Part Five

I became a shadow of myself after the second encounter with Deji. Since then Deji practically turned me to his sex slave. He has since forgotten everything about Stella and her pregnancy. The will to say no to him died because I saw no need stopping him again. He has seen everything in me. At a time I began to enjoy it too. It grew from casual sex to an affair.
Deji relocated me from my house to a better accommodation around Ikeja. He got the house without discussing it with me. He called me one afternoon, Mercy where are you? At the office of course. He asked me to take a 30 minutes excuse to join him around Ojudu side, that he has a surprise for me. What could that be? I thought within me. I left office to meet him at the junction he promised to wait for me .”Enter the car”, he ordered me. I obeyed and he drove me straight into a compound and pointed at a two bedroom flat, “This is your new house”. He handed over the keys to me and asked me to enter the car again. He drove me back to the same junction and gave me N2,000 to take a cab back to the office. I watched the whole thing like drama. I was so surprised that I couldn’t utter a word to him.
For three days, I was still pondering on what happened. I didn’t step into the house until a week later. When I got to the house to do some clean up, I was shocked! Deji had furnished the house to a desirable taste. He bought everything I will ever need in the house including a set of foreign couch. He kept the spare keys with him so he could come anytime he chose. Deji was readily available like a man who is not married. Sometimes, I wondered what he tells his wife because he was always with me. My house became his second home. He pays my bills and even opened a savings account for me where he transfers N10,000 into every Monday. This was neither my pocket money nor my upkeep. He has never failed to make the transfer every Monday.
After sometimes, he moved me back to the headquarter church as the choir leader. I became so powerful in the church that I was the brain behind almost all the decisions of the church including local transfers. Deji knows how to play his game so well that nobody suspected anything between us. At the church, he’s very formal and official. He’s hardworking and you hardly see lapses in his work.
On the 13th of January, I began to feel feverish. I called Deji, I need to go to the hospital, I told him on phone. I have been feeling feverish and tired for some days. I have taken panadol but no relief at all. “I will come and take you there shortly”, he promised. “No, there won’t be need for that. I will be fine”, I assured him.
You are already guessing the reason for my sickness, wait till you read what happened in part six.


Part Six

I was pregnant for Deji, my senior pastor! Affliction has risen the second time. He impregnated my best friend five times, here am I again, pregnant for him. A pregnancy I cannot be proud of. A pregnancy of shame and reproach. Would I start the journey of abortion too like Stella? How did I get myself into this mess? Who will I confide in? My friend whom I could talk with had wandered into a land of the unknown. This was the worst time of my life.
What will happen to my pride? Who will I tell that my pastor who could not impregnate his wife for over ten years was responsible for my pregnancy? Who will believe me? He has sent away Stella to only God knows where. Now it is me. I was afraid to tell Deji I was pregnant because of fear of abortion. I know he will surely ask me to abort it. What will I do now? I won’t run away like Stella, I will face the consequences of my foolishness. For months I kept the pregnancy away from him. I didn’t let him know about it. I will inform the church elders when I am five months gone. The evidence of the pregnancy would have been obvious then. But Deji was smarter, he discovered my pregnancy and began to interrogate me. When it was clear I could no longer hide the pregnancy from him, I told him. I was expecting him to ask me what we will do next but I was disappointed. He began to rejoice, he danced around the house for close to thirty minutes.
What is the meaning of this? Why is he happy about a shameful pregnancy? Is he going to ask me to keep it? How will he tell the church council? What will he tell his wife? What will happen to his pastoral work? All these thoughts ran through my mind.
Deji had it all planned out. He wants me to keep the pregnancy. This time he doesn’t want an abortion, he wants the baby. He has been childless for more than ten years so I can relate. Does it mean you will marry me as your second wife or you will make me your baby mama and dump me? I asked him. Mercy, my people says “obirin toba bimo fun ni ni aya eni”….. “A woman who gives you a baby is your wife”. He took his phone and dialed his sister’s line who lives in Kabba town in Kogi state and they talked for almost an hour. Deji is from Odokoro Gbedde, a small village close to Kabba town.
Two days later, I got an alert of N100, 000 on my phone. It was from Deji. I called him immediately to know what the money was meant for? Has he changed his mind, does he now want an abortion? I was curious. “I will be with you today in the evening to explain”, he said. That evening, I waited till 10pm, I didn’t see him and that increased my agitation. He sent me a text at about 10:40, “sorry I won’t be able to come again tonight, I will see you tomorrow morning. Good night my love”
Who is his love? This is his first time of addressing me as “my love”.
Very early in the morning the following day, Deji drove in and looking excited. “Arrange your things, you are living for Kabba tomorrow”, he said. Initially I thought it was a joke, but he was damn serious. He started putting my things together without delay. I have spoken to my sister in Kabba and they’re anxious to receive you. My mum will join her in Kabba to take care of you and the baby when you put to bed. The money I sent to your account is for the baby things. It will be better if you can buy them here in Lagos before leaving and that’s why I am this early. I stood there starring at him like a robot. How will you make all these plans without carrying me along? You are too selfish Deji. “What do I tell them in my working place when you know I need to give them three months notice before leaving…” he broke in “…or you forfeit a month salary right?”. I will send N75,000 into your account by month end to make up for the salary for this month.
I left for Kabba the next day, it was a long and stressful journey, considering my condition. I left without informing anybody in church, not even my choir members. What will I even tell them? But soon they will start calling me to know my whereabout, so I decided to change my line. I removed my sim card from my phone and destroyed it. I got a new sim immediately and called Deji to let him know the new number. When I arrived Kabba, the reception was wow. I wouldn’t have ask for a better treatment. His sister was so happy seeing me. She speaks a little of Yoruba mixed with their dialect. Having stayed in Lagos for more than twenty years, I speak Yoruba like Oni of Ife but I had some problem understanding everything she says. She could understand everything I say but I have to use discretion to decode some of the words in Kabba language.
The treatment I got in Kabba began to wipe away my sorrows and pains. I don’t do anything than to eat, sleep, watch films and browse. Something kept telling me this treatment will be cut short when I put to bed but I disregarded the thought.

To be continued …..


Part Seven

At a time I became worried that nobody knew my whereabout. From Lagos to Kabba, a strange land for that matter. What if something bad happens to me? Nobody knows my new phone number except Deji and yet I have destroyed the old one. This is a big risk I am taking for a man who is callous, evil and promiscuous. A man who claimed to be a pastor but live an adulterous life. How am I sure he’s not doing same with other ladies? What would my parent be thinking now? Why must I put them under this stress for my action? My mother can understand but not my father.
If I tell my mother, someone else must hear it. My mother will never be at peace if she hears my predicament. I must go through this until I put to bed or else everything will blow up. The consequences will be enormous if people get to hear this. It will get to the church authority, Deji will surely loose his job. Who will take care of me and my baby? “No! No! No! I won’t tell anyone now, not even my mother. When I give birth, I will start a small business with the savings in my account”. I began to think of which business I could do in Kabba that will give me a reasonable return.
I gave birth to a bouncing baby boy on the 18th October. It was a moment of joy for Deji’s family as they all trooped in from Odokoro Gbedde to rejoice with my mother-in-law, sorry I mean Deji’s mother. I was not comfortable with the old women who came around to greet and carry the baby. Language barrier became another challenge as I hear each of them say some things in Kabba dialect that I didn’t understand. As they say those words that sound like incantations I also counter them in my mind pleading the blood of Jesus on my baby. The sound of joy from Deji’s voice when he called me on phone was indescribable. He was so happy and promised to come before the naming. I didn’t lack anything because he kept sending me money even without request. My joy was mixed with sadness because of the way the baby came. He’s a child out of wedlock, a bastard. A child I am not proud to tell people about. Instead of being happy, sadness crept in and stole away my happiness.
As the naming drew closer, I began to think of many things. What happens after weaning my baby? Where would I start from again? Deji will surely not divorce his wife because of me, neither will he marry me as his second wife. What will be my fate in two years time? Will I remain in Kabba or will I go back to Lagos? At this time I needed to talk to someone but nobody to talk with. I made up my mind that my mother must attend my son’s naming. I called her two days to the naming narrating all my ordeals to her. For 10 minutes my mother could not say a word as she sobbed loudly on the phone. I wept as she wept too. My heart was heavy, I have disappointed my mother who loves me dearly.
My mother has never been to Kogi state before but she left Gboko the following day for Kabba. Her journey was rough and characterized by many unplanned delays. They had flat tyre three times between Makurdi and Lafia and several other mechanical problems. At about 9pm, my mother was yet to arrive, the journey she started from 6am. I became extremely worried because her line went off and I could not reach her again. I was restless when I didn’t hear anything from my mother after 10pm.

The unthinkable is about to happened…

Part Eight

I didn’t sleep through out the night. How would I sleep when my mother is hanging between Gboko and Kabba. At about 8:12am my phone rang and I rushed to pick it. Hello, my name is inspector Tajudeen Adeyeye. I am calling from police divisional headquarters Gwagwalada, Abuja…. On hearing this I went blank and I couldn’t explain what happened thereafter.
When I regained consciousness at the hospital, I saw a lot of people gathered around me with long faces. Where is my mother? I asked angrily. A nurse came close and held me firmly, madam you must take it easy, she whispered. Take what easy? Where is my mother? I removed all the drips on me and went for Deji’s neck, Deji where is my mother? Everyone in the ward bursted into tears. My mother died in a ghastly accident that claimed four lives.
Another chapter of sorrow was opened for me. Everything I have been hiding must come to the open. My father is going to kill me for all I have done secretly and making my mother die for it. Who is going to break the news to my father? This time was really difficult for me. The naming was postponed due to my mother’s death. The family head in Deji’s clan called an emergency family meeting to address the issue. It was so complicated because my father is not aware I was in Kabba, neither is he aware of my secret affair with Deji. Worst of all, my mother did not tell my father the true reason for her journey. In fact she lied she was going to see me in Lagos and not in Kabba. How will my father take these sad news at the same time?
I haven’t breastfed my baby for three days because of my grieve. Deji’s mother seemed less concerned about the tragedy of my mother’s death and more concerned about her grandson. Her attitude began to make me hate my own son. She wanted me to give the boy full attention without mourning my mother. This was so irritating and annoying. Those who came around took more time to celebrate the baby than mourning my mother. They will spend so much time playing with the baby but greet me casually on my mother’s death. These people are wicked and heartless. I began to develop hatred for them.
After the family meeting, it was resolved that two elderly men will travel to Gboko to inform my father of all the tragedy. I insisted I will go with them but they refused. When they arrived Gboko, I was following up everything with calls. Series of meetings were held with my elders on what to do. On the third day, the two elders from Deji’s clan came back with loads of news. Come with me to part nine for the family resolutions.

To be continued!!!




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