Some Women Cheat Like It’s a Sport….


 Me I don’t do that kind of slow motion ooo. See these things are not that hard, you do what you have to do, clean up and go back home to cook for your husband. The thing no dey read meter my sister.”


The other day I was at a salon to make my hair and this woman came in all made up and pretty. She seemed to be a friend to the salon owner and it was apparent she didn’t come to make her hair as she had on a relatively new hairdo. I can’t remember how the conversation turned to cheating but the first thing that attracted my attention was;

“Iwo lo slack ooo….o smart rara. Me I don’t do that kind of slow motion ooo. See these things are not that hard, you do what you have to do, clean up and go back home to cook for your husband. The thing no dey read meter my sister.”

WHAT!!! I exclaimed inwardly at the “clean up and go back home to cook for your husband. The thing no dey read meter my sister.” I immediately paid rapt attention to the discussion.

“Hmm, ekun.” The owner of the salon hailed. “You know sey you get mind.”

“It’s not about mind. There is no big deal really. These men do these things too and who says we can’t get our own pleasures when we need to. All you need to do is be smart, ensure you are not caught. You are only guilty when you are caught.’’

“But me my reason for contemplating it is money ooo.”

“It’s not just about money. My dear. You know I don’t do it for money, it’s not like I don’t have more than I need but sometimes you need love more than money and most of these our men don’t know that. They rarely think of fulfilling our emotional needs so we have to be responsible for our happiness and grab it from wherever we can get it.’’


She moved towards the Salon owner and whispered something in her ear. It was hard to hear but I strained my ear, I did not want to miss any part of the gist.

“You know Raji now, ehn Raji.” she repeated at the look of surprise that came over the stylist. “He is the current one.” She added going back to her chair and laughing at the shocked look on her friend’s face.

“But I thought he was history.’’ The Salon owner said

“Yeah, that was until we met at Silverbird two months ago after over five years. See I’m chopping life ooo. Mo’n jaye ori mi. I am a young woman now; you want me to start gathering cob webs?”

 She stood up and checked herself out in the salon mirror making a mock parade. She was beautiful really with shining dark skin, you couldn’t say she was fat and you could not say she was slim either.

“My sister first love is important in a woman’s life. Even if you have not been cheating on your husband before, the day you meet your first love again it all changes ooo. I tell you.”

“Hmm”, the Salon owner replied.

“So me, I am just having fun ooo. Oga does his own and I do my own too. God no go vex.”

“But just be careful oo, so he doesn’t know.”

“How will he know? He trusts me so much. Even if someone tells him, he won’t believe. I have never given him any reason to doubt me, so he can’t.”

“Hmmm, ore sha connect me ehn, help your sister. I need to upgrade my shop. Don’t you want to see air conditioners here?”

“Na you dey slack na, when you are ready let me know. Meanwhile I have to leave soon to prepare Oga’s dinner, besides the school bus would have also dropped the children by now.”

There were two other ladies in the room; a lady whose hair was being relaxed and the apprentice working on her hair. The lady would shake her head in disgust from time to time spilling relaxer crème all over the arm of her chair. The apprentice however seemed to be enjoying the conversation and would hail the woman intermittently. Mummy Dolapo!!! Eyato si won jare. You are special.

I left the salon in deep thought; several thoughts and questions on my mind.

            i.   So I have been so naïve to believe women don’t really cheat 

            ii.  How hard is it to cheat really?

            iii.  How can one prevent a partner from cheating?


 Hmmmm….it is well.


My Wife is Another Woman by Kolade Gboyega @newnaija


                               This was written as a sequel to Some Men Make you Want to Hurt Them, see here


We got married ten years ago and the union had been blessed with three boys before the birth of our baby girl some six months ago. Ever since the birth of the baby girl my wife has turned into another person.

We are intimate strangers. Forever together always miles apart in our thoughts and priority! It was not like this from the beginning! What happened to us…?

We had the three boys in quick succession. Every other eighteen months there was an addition to the family via my ever loving and beautiful wife.  Um, after the third boy, we had to do a little re adjustment that would keep the babies at bay at least for the next four years or so.

After much nagging from my wife and serious complaints that she also needed someone of her gender I heeded the call to try another one though I promised her that it would be my last attempt. As God would have it, her desire was granted, we were blessed with our bouncing Morenikeji.

The blessing is what is turning my once adorable wife into another person. The boys as we are now referred to have to fend for ourselves. Dinner is out of it, we make do with restaurant meals because the “gals” are busy or too tired to see to us. In fact, the house help we agreed not to be part of our household now does nearly everything.

Six months after the birth of her daughter we are yet to be together in the way of a man and wife.

“I’m tired”, “tomorrow” “later” are some of the few excuses I’m given. To make matter worse, her BBM carries Morenikeji’s picture, twitter handle name bears “keji’s mum’, her bio reads a loving mother of a beautiful and adorable queen KJ. Even her details on the facebook read on column for work “full-time mum and proud mother of KJ”.

How long can I cope with this KJ stuff? She is my daughter and I’m not jealous but the transformation of my once loving wife is bringing stale air to our family environment.



The Mistress and Her Conscience





The voice had been clear as it always was and as it usually did, it came in her dreams; the one where she finds herself floating over a bush of tulips.  The message had been simple and clear delivered in a chorus of a thousand butterflies;  her rival was restless they said. Mofe didn’t need anything more than that to know what her action should be.

Standing in the red room later that morning she gathered her  robe with one hand and peered into the floor-to-ceiling high mirror, a sneer on her face.


“Some girls don’t spend their entire life preparing to be someone’s wife. Why is that so hard for some people to comprehend?” Mofe said aloud to herself hissing as she watched the woman cross the busy Ojota expressway.

“Hmm, it’s funny that you always say that Mofe. If you don’t really need a man why do you date them?”

“Mofetade leave me alone, I’m trying to concentrate here.” Mofe replied her inner voice. She didn’t believe in alter egos. She would always maintain that Mofetade wasn’t her alter ego. She was just her conscience, one she rarely listened to. To the world she was Mofe; fearless, wild and uncontrollable. But to herself, she was partly Mofetade and partly Mofe. Mofetade was gentler, upright and had the fear of God. The only thing was Mofe  ruled the body while Mofetade stayed in the background.


Mofe watched the woman wondering why she wouldn’t take the pedestrian bridge. She could never understand why anyone would choose to cross multiple lanes when there is a pedestrian bridge. It occurred to her that it was odd that the woman wasn’t driving and then she laughed as she watched her enter a Mercedes Benz jeep with tinted windows.

So the medical doctor’s wife decided to take my lover’s wife to a native doctor’s place. She thought, picking up the cup of tea on the side table.

“Some people never mind their business. It is true that their husbands are best friends and that the wives too are quite close. But I still don’t think she had a right to meddle in this.”

“If I decide to give her an illness to keep her busy, you will say I’m wicked ooo. Abi Mofetade won’t you?” She waited for her other self to talk but there was silence. Shrugging, she continued sipping her tea.


She knew the tea would break the connection but she felt she had seen enough.  She knew where her rival was going and who was taking her. She left the room and headed for her bedroom, she removed her red robe, the yellow turban on her head and the divination beads around her neck. She stepped into the Jacuzzi in her room; a luxury that came with dating Owonikoko.

It wasn’t that she had been poor before she met Owonikoko; she had been comfortable courtesy of Fowosere, the shipping magnate she was dating then. She had dumped Fowosere the moment she met Owonikoko.

 ‘‘Shipping money isn’t the same as oil money”

That was what she had told Fowosere when he dared to ask why she was breaking up with him. He ruined it all by saying he had been intending to marry her as a second wife. She had snorted and gifted him with a condescending look saying;

‘‘Who says I want to marry you Fowosere?

“You think I want to be a second wife or any one’s wife for that matter?

“You think I won’t be married if I had wanted to be?”

“Has it crossed your mind that perhaps I love being a mistress?”

“And why is your mouth open? You never thought I could do better?”

At that Fowosere had closed his mouth and left the apartment. He never came back neither did he contact her again. He never asked for the cars he had bought for her, the pent house that was registered in her name. Mofe knew he wouldn’t, when she was through with a man she made sure the man forgets she ever existed.


“It’s been two years now” she thought as she soaked in the cool scented water of the Jacuzzi. “Two years and I have no regrets”. Two houses in Ikeja G.R.A, two in her home town, Owonikoko had even made her a board member of his company. She had so much already and she wasn’t even through with Owonikoko. She thought of Owonikoko’s wife and her present preoccupation with destroying her relationship with Owonikoko.

“No one told that woman she didn’t need to bother”, she thought laughing heartily to herself. ‘‘Who wants her husband?” she asked aloud.

Mofe thought of how desperate the woman must be to have even thought of going to a native doctor’s place.

“You are dating her husband, why won’t she be jittery and desperate?” Mofetade said

“Mofetade wait”, I am easy going you know that. I have no desire to take their husbands.” “You know that also.” “I only render a service, make their husbands happy and I get to live a comfortable life in return.” “Why should that bother any woman but of course they just assume that I want to marry their husband, they are too narrow minded to realize that there are people like me whose life plan has no husband or children in it.” “Who says you are incomplete without both?”

“Mofe, that won’t make sense to any woman.” “They don’t care if you want to marry their husbands.” “That you are dating them is enough pain.”


She exclaimed raising her palms up as if there was an actual person in the room with her. “How can they find that painful?”

“I am only doing something that myself and their lecherous husbands find mutually beneficial. It’s not like I go out of my way to look for their husbands, do I? It’s not my fault that they find me irresistible. I am the ideal African woman their husbands have fantasized about all their lives. While they keep dieting to look slim, I stay voluptuous and only make sure my stomach is as flat as a milling stone.


“Hmm, Mofe it’s because of women like you that they do all that dieting o.” her inner voice countered.

“See, I maintain that it’s not my fault. I certainly know how to make a man happy better than those miserable wives who view lovemaking with their husbands as a chore. When they come to me, I make each session better than the last, I satisfy all their fantasies, no holds barred.”

“Well Mofe, your mind is made up that you are doing the right thing.”

“Yeah, I’m doing the right thing” Mofe replied herself.


 She got out of the Jacuzzi, dried her body. She selected another robe, tied a red turban with gold sequins and then put the Jigida beads back on her neck and waist. It was time to go back to the red room – her seeing room. She had furnished the room in fiery red. The couch, the cabinet that contained her divination tools, the rug on the floor, the wall papers even the curtains. She sat on her couch and applied the black eye powder.

As always, it took only a minute after she had murmured the name of the person she wanted to see for the image to appear in the mirror.

 A well furnished room. The native doctor dressed in a green damask agbada; sitting on a throne like chair. “Nollywood needs to see this’’ Mofe thought. She had always wondered where they got the notion that all native doctors lived in hovels and had divination rooms decorated with skulls and bones.

Owonikoko’s wife and her friend were seated on a settee directly opposite the man.

“What do you want us to do with her?”

 “Do you want her to die or go mad?”

 “No sir, I don’t.” Owonikoko’s wife replied in a shaky voice.

 “I just want her to leave my husband and never go back to him.”

 “I can do that”, he replied.

 Mofe stood up irritated; she walked to the wash hand basin and rinsed the eye powder off. She looked at the wooden figure and the toy car she had set aside that morning, trying to make a decision. She wondered if it was necessary to still knock them together.

“Show mercy”, Mofe her inner voice said. “She didn’t want to harm you, you shouldn’t harm her too.”

“Okay” she answered. I won’t harm her she said putting the effigy that represented Owonikoko’s wife and the toy car that represented her transportation back into the drawer.

“I won’t destroy it yet” she decided. “I might still need it later”. “But leaving Owonikoko, of course that’s not going to happen soon.”

“Shiorr.” Mofetade hissed

“Na you sabi.” Mofe said ignoring her conscience.

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