Next thing, I was showered with squ!rt fluids. Damn!!!


My name is Alex Oluwatobi & I'm confused!

When I was in 200 level, I met Funke who joined my Dept through A-levels. One thing led to the other & we got talking. I started developing a special likeness for her.

She is a natural beauty, nerdy, well endowed (front & back 💯).
I summoned the courage to ask her out, but i was turned down. She said the best we could be is just friends as she is in a serious relationship.

Few months after, I tried again but still met a dead end. So I decided to drop it & agreed to be in the friendzone.
We were true friends with no strings attached. Though, we made out once but nothing after that. She was the complete package. She sleeps over in my room without things happening. We've seen ourselves more like brothers & sisters.


Her boyfriend was a very rich Lagos boy.
His family is affiliated to one of the strong Lagos politicians, not jagaban. He comes visiting with lots of goodies which Funke always share with me.

He'll always threaten me subtly, "if you touch my babe, I'll cut off your thing" he'll say.

I wasn't thinking of having...

...a GF as I was getting all the necessary attention and care from Funke. I've never been a sex freak, so sex wasn't my priority at all. I just wanted to always talk to Funke, sleep, eat & make sure I read so as to make the 2.1 (2nd class upper) I promised my uncle(sponsor).

Luckily, I made the 2.1 in Computer science as promised. I immediately got a job after NYSC, so I'd to move to Lagos from IB.

By this time, Funke & I barely see but we talk virtually everyday.

The gidi struggle was real, I was living in Ikorodu while my office was in Ajah.

By this time, Funke has started working with one of the new generation banks in VI.

We were still keeping up but not like we used to. Lagos palava!

Funke always flaunt her BF on every social media platform. I loved their love life, but a part of me still likes her...

...so much.

Old flames die hard they say.

Earlier this year, I was invited by one of our clients to a gala night, that was were I met Chiamaka.

Pretty, yellow, curvy, clean from head to toe!

Chiamaka is the Head of Digital Comms. in her company.

She's a BIG GIRL!
I don't know what came over me, maybe it was the Jameson whiskey I was sipping because on a normal day, I wouldn't have the effontery to have a nat with this lady, as she seems way out of my league.

We got talking & damn she's very cool. Her smile keeps blowing me away.


We exchanged contacts & talk every blessed day

I got a little raise at work so I moved to a nice apartment in Ogudu. I also got some new stuff for the house. Chiamaka was like the lucky charm I needed in my life, as things started falling into places.

I gisted Funke..

...about everything and she seems very happy for me.

I have visited Chiamaka once in her apartment but she has never been to mine, no issues.

Sometimes in February, Funke was posted to the Ketu branch of the bank she works with. She called to tell me, & also...
... asked If she could stay in my place for the one week training.

It's Funke nah, so no wàhálà!

That night, she came & we'd to catch up about everything.

I told her I was going to ask Chiamaka out on Valentine's day. She screamed and hugged me, I hugged her right back.
The hug & her sweet smell brought back memories, but I'd quickly shook myself to reality.

I asked about her BF & their plans for the future. She just waved it off with a smile.

For the 5 days, she slept in the room while I slept in the sitting room. It's a mini flat.


I asked Chiamaka out on Valentine's day, got her cake from @TheCakeChancery, sneakers from @Danny_Walterr, airpod from @thepodshop_ng, 2 expensive wines & lots of chocolates

She loved it!

She also got me shirts, chinos, clipper, cake & Jameson whiskey. I was blown away!
On the 22nd February was my birthday, I wasn't really expecting anything from her after all she did on Valentine's day. But guys, I never knew the val gift was just a tip of the iceberg.

Just name it, the only thing she didn't buy for me was a house and a car.
For the first time in my life, I flaunted her and the gifts on all my social media platforms. I was overwhelmed with joy!

By this time, Funke was done with her one week training, so she is back to her place on the island.

That weekend, I invited Chiamaka to my apartment.

Immediately she stepped inside, I lifted her up gently, she dropped her bags & flung her slippers, she locked her legs round my waist & we started kissing.

Carried her to the couch, gently removed her top while I caress her soft body. Her skin is like fresh hot bread.
Brought out lots of ice cubes & one cold Jameson. Placed some of the cubes on her nipples & navel, some in my mouth, some in her mouth & some inside the glass of whiskey.


Bed by Jholiday was playing quietly from the woofer.

We exchanged cubes till it melted into our soul.
Her lips tasted like raspberry, I can't get enough of it. I went down on her with new set of few cubes in my mouth, her coochie was clean, pink & soft, dripping like erin ijesha water fall.

To cut the long story short, we didn't have sex that night, we made sweet LOVE.
She left the next day.

While I was basking in the euphoria of what just went down, I checked my phone and saw 18missed calls.

15 from Funke, 3 from Mum.

Called mum back twice, she wasn't picking, so I called Funke. Immediately she picked and started para-ing.
Ha... Egbámi!!! 🙆‍♂️

Funke, "what did I do?" I asked.

She started saying stuff like "you don't care about me, is it because she is a rich girl? You don't even look at me, you don't talk to me, you just treat me like I don't exist, you don't pick my calls."

I was surprised!
Very confused 😕😕!


She continued, "I was on the mainland yesterday to drop what I got for you for your birthday. I called and called and you didn't pick up... blablabla"

I apologised and asked where she was, she said she is back to the island. I apologised again...
and I promised I would see her before the week runs out.

I called her the next day, she wasn't picking. Sent her a text, she didn't respond. So I concluded she was still pissed then I decided not to bug her again.

I got back from work, only to meet her at my gate. 😲

"Funke, what are you doing here?" I asked.

She said she needed to drop my gifts and also apologize for acting up; besides, she has another training the next day and she will be willing to crash over.

I also apologised and told her "no problem" regarding crashing over.

I was...already asleep on the couch as usual when I noticed a white towel dropped on my face, I removed it & opened my eyes and there she was, stark naked.


"WTF!" I mumbled, she shushhed me, then gently pulled down my boxers, removed my top & started with my nipples...
CONTINUATION

...and i lost control, I became weak, I started saying meaningless stuff. I never knew that nipple sucking could be that heavenly.

Wait, is that the way you ladies feel when we...? Well, that's a question for another day.

She took the game down to the meaty mic...

...and she sang till I feel my soul drain out of my body.

"Goddd, what's happening?" I whispered. She looked me in the eyes, smiled & placed one of her breast in my mouth.

I instantly STFU & in mins D is up.

I'm more of a love making guy, but that night she fvckeddd meee...

I tried to stop it but I was too weak to do shit.

She sat on my dick right on the couch and rode me like a spartan army taking his horse to war.

She didn't allow me do a thing, she was the one in charge of the whole gig. While this was going on, she whispered into my ear...
"I want to fuck Chiamaka out of your system"

😲

Then she continues, "I want you, Alex I want you. You are the best thing to ever happened to me since we became friends. Just say the word and I am all yours..."

"Tobi, we are the best for each other"

"Just say the word"
I said the "WORD" and she held me tight and suddenly bursted into tears, her whole body was vibrating.

Next thing, I was showered with squirt fluids. Damn!!!

So apparently, the boyfriend's parent does not like her as they already have a politician's daughter they've been...
... packaging for him.


Infact, the guy seems to be currently dating the babe so he pays attention to Funke no more.

I've been shuttling btw the 2 ladies for over a month before the lockdown & here are my observations.

-Funke is very neat, but Chiamaka is extremely neater.

-Funke is all about investing in businesses and being your own boss while Chiamaka is all about Canada residency.
-Both can cook but Chi knows more about varieties and food art.
-Funke has met my parents several times but Chiamaka said its not yet time.
Let me introduce myself all over again!

My name is Alex Oluwatobi and I am really really confused.

Let's talk, matured responses only!

My husband thinks he can cheat


Joro I laugh in Spanish at those wives who allow thEir husband rape them. Women take your power back. I stan . I have been fucking everyday day since quarantine started here and he doesn't know it.


Hello Joro I'm writing you somewhere in the world. Keep me confidential. Before this quarantine I found out my husband is a dog. In his mind he felt he was a slick Nigga.

I go out everyday to a guy who lives close. 2/2 This guy has been on my case. I finally fuxked him. This guy fuxks me well and raw no CD and cums inside me. He fingers my anus while giving me doggy.


When I get home i wash my vaggy in my hubby's food. he has to taste my side nigga sperm. 41 The most enjoyable part is watching him eat it 1--ktt it is like orgasm I FaceTime my sister in Nigeria today and her husband cheats. She needs to follow my tips.


Good Wife Good wife it will end it tears las las. I am so freaking happy. Litty litty vaggy vaggy spicy spicy

Aye and Eiye Cultists Clash; take over Ijebu-Ode as residents flee


It is now becoming a norm; shootings, killings, and maiming! Currently there is tension in Ijebu-Ode area of Ogun State as members of Eiye and Aiye cult groups are taking turns to carry out reprisal attacks and killings of their members.



Residents of Epe garage area of Ijebu-Ode are fleeing the area as these cultists continue to terrorise the town.

The recent clash between the two groups started last weekend at Epe area in Ijebu-Ode.


A young man who was said to be a member of the Aiye cult group was butchered by members of Eiye Confraternity.


A resident of Ijebu-Ode, who pleaded anonymity said “That night I was even fortunate to run for my life because, I was around that place when the crisis started.



“A guy belonging to Aiye, was killed that night by Eiye guys. Before they could rush the guy to hospital, he gave up.”

According to our source, members of the Aiye Confraternity retaliated their member's death by killing one Eiye member before daybreak.

It was gathered that the killings had been increasing at an alarming rate as it has now become a source of worry to members of the public, who have been blaming the police for not doing enough to nip same in the bud.

How Fart Is Your Love?


I see myself as a reserved person. I don’t go out, I don’t make friends easily and I don’t call people friends just because I know them. It’s an advice I got from my mother. She said,  “Just because you know her doesn’t make her your friend. You know her and that’s all. Friendship is deeper.”

There was some truth in that so I carried it along as the gospel.

At the university I had a roommate who was everything that I was not. Benedicta. She liked talking, I didn’t like to talk or be talked to for so long. She liked going out at the times I loved to stay in. She had so many friends, I had none. She mistakenly thought I was her friend just because I was in the same room with her. She was my roommate and that was all. But there was something about Benedicta I found very enchanting.

She’s exactly what she tells you she is, no lies and no flavor. To date, anytime I think of authenticity, I think of her. She won’t tell you A and do B, never. Or she won’t ask you to go where she wouldn’t go with you. She thought me how to be a human in a world where everyone is trying to be a perfect plastic.

One morning I was awakened by this loud noise that sounded like a burst balloon. She was standing by the bed, naked and polishing her nails. I asked her, “What was that?” She said calmly, “I did. It was the sound of my fart.” I thought it was one of her crazy jokes. I just turned over and continued sleeping. The next four or so minutes, she did it again. I was awake. I heard it and I knew it was true. But how could she do that?

“Benedicta, I’m sleeping here.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Can you do it outside?”

“No, I can’t.”

For the next several minutes, all I heard were a lot of farting sounds. Some loud, some not so loud. She unapologetically shot it all out. I covered my head with my cloth so I could stay safe. I should have been angry but hey, that’s Bene for you.

That day’s topic for discussion was farting.

She said, “I’ve never heard you fart since we’ve been here together. What do you use your anus for?” “Villager!” I screamed. She responded, “Don’t make a mistake. To fart is human. To do it in front of someone makes you a real human. Who are you shy of?” I bragged, “Not that I’m shy of anybody. I’m a lady. I respect myself enough to know where and when to fa…” She screamed excitedly, “Yes! That’s what I’m talking about. Where and when to fart includes here. It’s just you and I. If you can’t fart in front of me how would you do it in front of your boyfriend?”

“Fart in front of my boyfriend? Are you for real?”

“You don’t fart in front of your boyfriend? So all the while you are together, what do you do when it comes?”


I wasn’t going to answer that and as far as I was concerned, farting topic was over. Too much fart for a day but Bene wasn’t going to stop and what she said finally sounded like philosophy from the books of Aristotle. She said, “You date with forever in mind. What it means is forever without farting. That’s a struggle. That’s painful. If you can’t fart in front of the one you’re going to spend forever with then you’re good at hiding who you are.”

Read that again but this time, put Aristotle’s name beneath it and everyone will believe it’s from him.

All day I thought about that statement and the more I thought of it the more it made sense but I wanted to know how others think about it so I started asking friends…

“Akos do you fart in front of your boyfriend?”

“We haven’t dated for long so we haven’t gotten to that stage yet.”

“Mavis, how long will you date a boyfriend before you start farting in front of him?”

“Hmmm…it depends on how close we are during dating but six months intensive dating will get me farting in front of him.”

“Rose, the first time you fart in front of him what did he say?”

“Hahaha, I was dozing off in his car and I accidentally let it rip. He immediately lowered the car window and I apologized. He kept spitting out of the window throughout the journey and that made me feel bad.”

I wanted to be sure. None of them said it was bad but they all cautioned that it should happen when one is comfortable with whom she’s dating.


I was comfortable with Alex. We had dated for two years and never did it cross my mind that it was a good idea to fart in front of him. “Are we pretending that we are perfect in all ways and are not capable of a good mess?”

So one day it came up in a conversation between me and Benedicta. I told her, “I would never do that in front of him. It’s not healthy for our relationship. She responded, “I’ve had a lot of boyfriends leave my life. Some even left because I was too good to them but trust me, none of these boyfriends left me because I farted in front of them. Your boyfriend knows you fart anyway so why hide?”

One evening, we were both seated watching a movie. It was intense like that so both of us were quiet and concentrating. Then I felt the urge. I didn’t waste time at all. I just lifted one side of my butt and let it slip slowly in its royal loudness. He turned his head quickly and asked, “Is that an accident or intentional?” I responded, “It’s an accident, I’m sorry.”


He burst out laughing and jumping in the room as though he’d won a lottery. He said, “Wonders, so you too you dey fart?” He paused the movie and laughed and teased me till I left the room. It felt like I’d opened some fresh gateway in our relationship. He never stopped teasing me. He would bring it up at the least chance he had.

One day, not too long afterward, we were walking towards his house when he grabbed my hand. He had this mischievous grin on his face. Just when I was about to ask him why, he pulled my hand quickly to his ass and farted on my hand. He then left my hand and quickly ran from me, all the while laughing hysterically. When he stopped he said, “I’m sorry it was an accident.” I told him, “I won’t let this go unavenged.”

When I narrated the story to Benedicta, she said, “Now you guys are legends. You have nothing to hide now.”

READ ALSO: The Miles We Travel Before We Meet Our Soulmate


A week or so ago, a friend of mine shared her relationship story with me. She said, “I don’t think that guy takes me seriously. He doesn’t have any respect for me. He even farts in front of me. Maybe, it’s time to walk away before he begins shitting on me.” She wouldn’t listen to anything I say because her mind was made up and ready to leave the relationship.

What works for others doesn’t work for other people when it comes to relationship but I think leaving a relationship because of a fart is extreme. What do I know? Maybe I’m wrong but you reading this, what do you say?   

—Sally, Ghana

Supreme Eiye Gyration Download

This is a thread for airlord jojo; eiye confraternity slangs; list of eiye nest in nigeria; habakraya OT.
On the 15th June 1969 the “Aro Metta” came together under the Araba tree, to develop what will be recognized as the first constitution of the Supreme Eiye Confraternity any years later


The Supreme Eiye confraternity is not a CULT group but a PURE BROTHERHOOD association that was formed to promote, build a better personality and mental development; plus correct the ills of the society.

Listen and download Eiye Jojo Akoko (Supreme Eiye Confraternity Songs) eiye below


I WENT THROUGH THE BLUE SEA WITH THE LINKING BOAT............I WENT THROUGH THE RED SEA WITH OUT NO BAILING...............I WENT THROUGH THE YELLOW SEA WITHOUT NO PARDLE..............AND I STILL CROSS MY PANAMA AND STILL SHOUT HYBARKRIER..........AIRLORD......WE SHALL ALWAY FLY TO OUR LIMIT....ATAH.TO ALL FLYERS.RUGGED.

True Love Comes In Sizes


The first person who drew my attention to my size was my mom. My name is Akua and I had a cousin who lived with us who was also called Akua. To differentiate between the two of us, My mom called me Akua Obolobo. That was it.

The whole neighborhood started calling me Akua Obolobo until one day, the Akua became silent and Obolobo was shortened to Obolo. I grew up knowing I was fat. I accepted it in good faith and lived life as fat people do.

In senior high school, I had my first kiss. It was so good I wanted to do it again and again and again. Maybe it wasn’t the kiss that was good but to have someone loved me to the extent that he would kiss my lips made my heart spin like a carousel. That kiss became my first and also my last from that boy. I did nothing wrong but he started distancing himself from me. He wouldn’t talk to me and he wouldn’t see me even when I’d gone to look for him.


When I asked him why he said, “My friends laugh at me these days because of you. They say when you sit on me my intestines will spill out. They tease me every day and I think staying away from you will save us from the tease and name-calling.” I told him, “You didn’t love me. If you did, you would have defended me.” He was just a boy and I was placing in his hands too much responsibility than a boy could handle. I wanted him to kiss me again but he never did and that was the end of us.

I never had a boyfriend again until I completed senior high school. My friend Matilda, she received a proposal each day from the cutest guys on campus. She said a lot of no and said a lot of yes too. One day she said, “If a guy proposes to me and I don’t like him, can I give him to you?” I said, “Yes, I’m always available but make sure he likes obolo girls.”

That’s how miserable I was.

And then I grew up.

Twenty-five, no boyfriend. At twenty-eight, I had a boy who said he loved me with all his heart. I believed him because it showed in the things he did and how he treated me. He held my hands everywhere we went like he was proud of me and ready to show me off to the world. I had my second kiss, third kiss, and several others from him. In my mind, he was my husband. He was my soul mate and the reason why I’d stayed single until I was twenty-eight. I had planned our wedding in my mind and booked the hotel for our honeymoon in my heart. Our first kid was a girl and the second a boy and the third a girl.


A girl in love can plan her whole life in her head and live it accordingly.

At some point he started complaining about my size, “Akua, it seems you’ve added on weight.” “Really, I haven’t checked my weight recently.” That evening, I checked and everything was the same. I hadn’t added even air to my weight. But he kept complaining. I asked him, “You don’t like the way I am again?” He said, “It’s not about that. You keep adding on flesh as if you don’t have it already. All I’m saying is, do something about it before it gets out of hand.”

From then on it became law; “Thou shall lose weight no matter what or I’ll nag and nag and nag.”

I loved him with all I have. When everyone rejected me, it was he who accepted me for who I was so I decided to lose some weight for him. I started jogging. I started jumping over skips, I ate less and ate lean. Two months later, I added more weight. He said, “Exercise properly for thirty minutes every morning, fast for some hours and take some slim tea. I did everything and yet didn’t see any improvement.


He saw my effort. He knew I was trying but my body wasn’t ready to yield. He never stopped giving me pressure. We argued a lot and fought so many times. Love was waning and we didn’t do so much to stop it. We said our goodbyes and moved on with our lives. I tried, God knows I tried but he kept asking for more than I could give. I’m not my body and one cannot die in the name of love so I let go.

This break up really got to me. It wasn’t only my heart that got broken, the whole me was broken. I was like a bird with broken wings. I couldn’t fly and I was always scared my pursuers will finally find me. A simple whistle from the pine got me shivering. I cried for days and thought that was the end of the road for me.

I closed my mind on everything love and decided to live my life. I made new friends and enjoyed their company. I joined girl groups and made myself busy. There was something happening in my life every day, so much so that I forgot about love. Life was good especially life without broken hearts.

I met Ken.


He was a fine gentleman. So refined in his ways and polished in his manners. He looked like someone who has four girlfriends and still looking for more. When he started making advances towards me I said in my head, “You devil, go away from me.” He kept saying all the things I loved to hear. I asked myself, “Doesn’t he see that I’m fat?” When finally he proposed, I wanted to say yes but I hesitated. I asked him, “Are you very sure it’s me you want?” He said, “I’m old enough to know what I want.”

I only nodded.

Because of what I’d been through I didn’t think I deserved such a guy. I didn’t trust him that much. I wanted to believe him anytime he said he truly loved me but I couldn’t. He was too good to be true. He wanted to take me out on several occasions, but I said no. People would see us together and they’ll begin to tease him out of the relationship. I’ve had it before and didn’t want to risk it, at least not at that early stage of our relationship.

He went out alone and I stayed home minding my own business but at some point, he saw through me and my feeling of inadequacies. He tried encouraging me to get out of my own way and be happy but I was an old dog. He couldn’t teach me a new trick. I insisted on staying in so the world won’t be on our case. I was doing it for him.


I remember one afternoon, he came for me. He gave me all the assurances in this world before I could agree to step out with him. I didn’t know where we were going but I trusted he was taking me to a restaurant or the mall or somewhere the two of us can sit and talk. We both ended up at the gathering of his old school mates. The screams and the boos as we walked in was deafening. I got frozen. That was when all the fears I’ve ever had started kicking in. I couldn’t walk and I couldn’t stand straight but he held my hand, walked me through the middle and introduced me to all his friends.

When we finally sat down, everyone was looking at us. I started getting uneasy. I had the feeling we would be over before we got home. He was having fun with old mates while I sat there attracting stares from people who couldn’t believe there was someone as fat as I am. When we got home that day he said, “You care too much about what people think or say. How about me? Don’t you care how I feel about you? You’re not disabled, you only have more skin than others.”


That was the day I started warming up to the relationship. It was so sweet the way he said it and I felt guilty for not giving him my all because of fears. We’ve been two years in the relationship now. July 25th, 2020 would be my birthday and also my wedding day. It would be joy unlimited not because I’ve had it easy with Ken but because all the struggles and shame and pain have led me to a place where it all makes sense.

Whether big or fat, there’s a hand I fit in and there’s an embrace tailored just for me. This is it.

—Akua Obolo, Ghana

A Letter To My Boyfriend’s Wife


Hello, Wife of my boyfriend,

I first learned about your existence seven months into my relationship with your husband. I didn’t know he was married. He didn’t mention it and I didn’t ask. That was my mistake. I assumed he was not married because he was not wearing a ring when I found him. Little did I know that Kojo walks around with his ring tucked into his wallet.

The fact that he didn’t live with you made it very difficult for me to know about you. I lived with him in his house as though he was my husband. I had my first kiss with him in the hall, closer to the Jesus piece on the wall. I had my first sex with him in that same bed you two were sleeping on when you were around. He told me he loved me and I told him I loved him too. It was in that same bed he promised to love me until death do us part.

I believed him.

Some months into our relationship, I saw your photo on his phone with a new kid in your arms. He told me, “That’s my senior sister in Holland. She recently had a baby boy and she sends photos to me every now and then.” I trusted him because why not? Not too long afterward, I saw a photo frame of a little girl in one of his drawers. “Cute little princess,” I said. “Is she also the daughter of your senior sister?” He answered, “Yeah, that’s the first child of my senior sister. She’s Amanda and she’s my favorite of the kids.”


I kept staring at the photo. There was something in the eyes of that little girl that screamed for attention. Amanda has the nose of Kojo and if you look deep in her eyes, you’ll see a striking resemblance with Kojo. When I asked about it he said, “Oh the nose, it’s a family thing. Didn’t you see the nose of my sister? she has it and my junior brother also has it.”



“How about the eyes?” I should have asked but I couldn’t. He whisked me off in his arms and led me away to the bedroom. He kissed my neck and kissed my ears. He said, “Leave my sister’s daughter alone and let’s get jiggy.” Jiggy is how he called sex. I was carried away and forgot everything about the girl in the photo frame.

I got pregnant for him. Not once and not twice. But he always had the same reason for not making us have the baby. I didn’t mind that we were not married. I wanted to have his babies and I didn’t mind if the babies came before marriage or the marriage came before babies. In the end, all that mattered was us and our plans to stay forever in love. But Kojo had this to say, “Love is beautiful when the white gown comes first before the white Kaba and slit.” White gown for wedding and white Kaba for the child’s naming ceremony.



Through it all, I trusted him. Maybe I was blinded by the love I had for him or I was simply not looking hard enough for evidence of his past. Don’t call me stupid. I’m not. I lived in his house, slept in the same bed with him and went wherever he went. What else would make me look for evidence about his marital status?

But one evening, we came from town late and hungry. He needed some tea but we didn’t have it in the house, so he told me, “Take money from my wallet and get us some tea from outside.” I was in the room when he quickly rushed inside to tell me to stop going through his wallet because he had some money in his pocket to give me. It was too late to prevent what he wanted to prevent. I’d already seen his wedding ring tucked at the corner of his wallet.”


He stood there looking at me. I stood there shaking with anger, disappointment, and embarrassment.

For some seconds we said no word to each other. His ring was in the palm of my hand and we both stood still like statues. I kept nodding my head. Then the image of you with the little boy in your hands kept flashing through my eyes. The eyes of Amanda came back staring so hard at me. I kept repeating in my head, “I should have asked good questions instead of allowing him to answer for things I didn’t ask.”

I asked him, “So it’s true. You’re married. Amanda is your daughter? That woman you said was your senior sister, she’s your wife right?” I let my self down on the bed and started crying. I was totally broken and he was so ashamed to even say a word to me. Deep down I wanted him to lie to me. I wanted him to say something like, “That’s not my ring. I picked it along the street thinking I might meet the owner someday.” Any lie at all could do but he sat next to me and said, “I loved you too much I didn’t know how to tell you the truth.”



I asked him, “You lie to all the people you love?” He said, “Tell me the truth, If I told you I was married, would you have looked my way even once?” I started ranting, “This hurt, Kojo. This really hurts me to the core. All these months for nothing? All these months in bed with someone’s husband? I feel like dying because there’s nothing left for me.” He tried calming me down but I was inconsolable. I cried until I slept.

I left the house the next morning and told him never to call or look for me again. He tried stopping me but I shoved him off and left the house.

He kept calling to apologize to me. He would come to my place after work and tell me how much he loved me and how much he wanted me in his life. At some point, he cried but I stood my grounds and sent him away.

I tried every means to heal but it was difficult. I barely survived the first month without him. Some days I wanted to call him. Somedays I wanted to run back into his arms. It was hard and confusing. I didn’t even know myself any longer. How could I still have some desires left for a man who lied to me and wasted so many days of my life?

I survived the second month without him but in the third month, I walked to his house to pick the rest of my clothes and shoes I left in his house. When he saw me he smiled. I smiled too. I walked into the bedroom and he followed. He held me from behind and tried to kiss me. I fought and resisted. I left the bedroom and went to the hall. He followed, pulled me close to himself and tried to kiss me again. I fought him. Just when we got to the Jesus piece on the wall, his lips touched on mine and I gave it all away. He hurt me but I missed him. We kissed, had sex and we were back together again.


I had accepted my fate and my role in his life. I was the official side chick.

It’s very embarrassing to admit but there seemed to be nothing I could do about it. He put all the images of you and the children back at where they used to be before he hid them. A frame of you was placed next to the TV. What it meant was I saw you every day because every day when I was in the house, I watched the TV. I thought about you oftentimes and thought of how you will feel when you get to know about me. I was sorry for you. You married the wrong guy.

Kojo is the devil with the face of an angel. I was there often when you called him at night. Some times he would have his legs on me while telling you you were the love of his life. When you called him on video, I was there with him. When the kids came on the screen to say “hello daddy to him” I was there too, hidden from view. He’ll then hang up, turn to me and speak ill of you. Your man knows how to play this game. He’s a master of deception.

He told me one day that you were returning from abroad. It only meant I had to stay away for as long as you were in. He promised he’ll find time for us to be together. He promised he’ll make you leave as soon as possible so we could own our world again.

I trusted him.

I didn’t hear from him for two weeks. He never answered my calls or messages. I started getting worried. Worried turned to anger; “So this guy thinks he can thrash me just because his wife is in?” I sent him an angry message one evening, “I hope your wife sees you for who you are and abandon you the way you’ve abandoned me.” The message was read. No response.

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The next morning, I hurried off to his house. I didn’t know what I was going to do there but I knew one thing for sure; I needed to give him a piece of my mind. I knocked, no one responded. I knocked again, there was no response. I knew how the house works. It’s hard to hear someone knocking when you were in the bedroom. I sat at the doorstep waiting to see him. Soon I heard a lady’s voice. I thought, “That might be the wife.” I knocked and the door got opened…

There she was…

Another woman. Someone who wasn’t you. You’re fair, she’s dark. You’re slim, she’s chubby. You’re beautiful, she’s beautiful too. We both stood there looking at each other. She asked, “How may I help you?” I said, “Tell Kojo Jennifer is here.” He rushed to meet me outside and closed the door behind us. I asked him, “So how many of us do you have?” He responded, “I don’t even know how to explain this to you. It’s not the way you think.” I told him, “Take me to her and let me tell her you’re a married man. Would you?” He blinked ceaselessly like a baby doll. He couldn’t.

If Kojo was my husband, I would have left him that day. But then again, why did I stick with him when I found out he was married? I don’t have an answer for that. Maybe, I needed proper closure. Finding out he was married was too sudden. That day, in front of his door, was all the closure I needed. I left him and didn’t bother to go back for my dress and shoes.

Why am I writing you this letter?

This letter isn’t for you, though it’s written for you. You might never read it because I’m never going to send it. This is a letter written by me to me to give me a channel to spew out all the hurt I’ve harbored inside. It’s a way of giving myself a clean slate to be able to begin again. I’ve made a mistake. I’ve learned. I’ve shared. Now, I look forward to a better tomorrow, without another woman’s husband.

PS: I miss the Jesus piece on the wall.