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Anusiem’s Daughter - Gloria Ashagwara, Haywards Heath (2025)

16/11/2025

MOM'S MASTER IS OUR DAD

EPISODE 19

By: Anusiem’s Daughter

Time was slowly crawling as everyone waited for the doctor to conduct the final test and return with the results. Those results were going to determine something bigger than any of them expected—whether one of the twin sisters would agree to be a donor and save Sir Danfodu’s life.

These were the same girls who had been mistreated in that house for years. The same girls who were ordered around, insulted, oppressed, and made to feel less than human. Meanwhile, the ones who grew up feeling entitled—Rahim and Amina—had just discovered that Sir Danfodu was not their biological father. He only fostered them. Now everything they believed was turning upside down.

What were they going to do when it finally became clear that the same girls they despised, the same ones they mocked as “servants,” were actually the real daughters of the man they had called father for years? Rahim and Amina had no idea what storm was coming. They were not even at the hospital that day.

The doctor hurried out of his office with the envelope containing the life-changing result. He moved quickly toward the VIP ward to inform one of the hospital’s richest patients, Sir Danfodu, of the outcome. The weight of the news made his heart heavy.

When he entered the room, Sir Danfodu’s wife was sitting beside his bed. Her face was pale—not because her husband was severely sick, but because she now knew he was not the biological father of her daughter and son. Everything she believed about her marriage and her family was collapsing before her eyes.

They both looked up anxiously as the doctor approached.

“I am excited to tell you this, sir,” the doctor began. The tone of his voice made Sir Danfodu grip his blanket tightly. His life was hanging in the balance, and he needed a miracle—even if the miracle came with pain.

“I hope it is good news, doctor?” he asked.

“There is good news,” the doctor said carefully, “and there is bad news.”

Sir Danfodu sighed. “I don’t care about the bad news. All I need is for the good news to be the miracle I’m waiting for.”

The doctor opened the record book in his hands, pretending to double-check what he already knew. Then he read aloud:

“The good news is that all the samples taken from the twin sisters were positive. They are one hundred percent compatible.”

Sir Danfodu finally smiled, relief washing over his tired face. “And the bad news?”

The doctor closed the book and looked at him directly. “The bad news is that we don’t know if either of them will agree to be a donor. Considering how they were treated in your house… it may be difficult.”

Sir Danfodu swallowed hard. “Does this mean… they are my children? I am their biological father?”

“Yes, sir,” the doctor confirmed.

Instead of celebrating, the wife looked away sadly. She could no longer rejoice over anything connected to that revelation.

“If there is someone they listen to,” the doctor continued, “someone they care about, someone who can convince one of them to help… you should send that person immediately. Is there anyone in your household they trust?”

“No one, doctor,” Sir Danfodu admitted.

The doctor nodded slowly. “Then, sir… your life is in their hands.”

That was the heavy reality he was facing. He needed a donor quickly, or it would be too late.

His wife returned home with the news boiling inside her. She called Rahim and Amina immediately, dragging them quietly into her room and shutting the door behind them.

“The table has turned,” she whispered. “There is bad news… although it’s good news for my husband.”

Her children exchanged confused looks. She couldn’t bring herself to call him “your father” anymore.

“What news, Mama?” Rahim asked.

“It’s about Rachel and Abigail.”

Rahim frowned. “How can Rachel and Abigail be both bad news and good news at the same time? Mama talk straight. Are you saying maybe one of them belongs to Sir Danfodu?”

He was curious and restless. Amina’s heart was beating fast too.

“Which of the twins is the good news,” Rahim asked, “and who is the bad news?”

“All of them,” their mother replied.

Amina raised her hand slightly, frustrated. “Mom, please. We have had enough shock in this house. Just go straight to the point.”

Their mother inhaled deeply. Then she dropped the bomb.

“The good news is that Rachel and Abigail are the biological children of the man you have called dad for years.”

Amina gasped. “It’s a lie. How come?”

“My husband—your foster father—had a relationship with their mother, Miss Ngozi. She was working in this house at that time.”

Rahim staggered back. “So… after everything… after all the stress and insults we poured on them… they are the legitimate ones in this house?”

“Yes,” their mother said quietly.

Silence filled the room. Heavy, painful silence.

Meanwhile, far away in the hospital, Sir Danfodu lay weak on the bed. His life was hanging by a thread. He had already told his wife to bring the twins to him so he could speak with them, beg them to forgive him, accept him as their father, and save his life.

Later, his wife finally approached Rachel and Abigail. For the first time in their lives, they heard her call them:

“My daughters…”

They froze.

If you were one of the twins…
Would you go to the hospital to see the man who treated you badly—before even deciding whether to help him?

To Be Continued..,,

15/11/2025

MOM'S MASTER IS OUR DAD

EPISODE 18

By: Anusiem’s Daughter

Rachel suddenly had an idea—one that even surprised Abigail. She felt the idea could convince Abigail and maybe even change everything for them. She wanted to use the whole situation as an opportunity to make their father finally accept them and allow them to marry Madu and Robert. So both of them agreed it was time. They would go to him and reveal the truth—they were his children.

The beautiful twin sisters already knew that Sir Danfudu’s wife was in the hospital, trying to defend herself. She had been shaken after the doctor showed a hospital report suggesting that the children she thought belonged to her husband were not biologically his. She had lived so many years confidently, never imagining such a twist could be waiting for her. But the report changed everything—turned her entire world sideways.

Sir Danfudu, a man who had always held onto his pride like it was part of his skin, immediately accused his wife of being unfaithful. He didn’t want to listen to anything she tried to explain. He was ready to take the matter as far as separation if necessary.

But truly, that was like a kettle calling a pot black.

Rachel and Abigail left the house without seeking anyone’s advice. Amina had tried to stop them, but they walked past her like people on a mission. Amina kept calling her mom, reporting everything as it happened.

“Mom, I tried stopping them o,” she said, her voice shaky. “But they told me they were going to the hospital.”

“Going to the hospital for what?” her mother asked sharply.

“I don’t know, mom. They just said they want to visit… dad.”
The way Amina dragged the word dad showed how heavy it felt in her mouth. She felt uncomfortable calling Sir Danfodu that, and it sounded strange even to her own ears.

Meanwhile, in the hospital, Sir Danfudu rested weakly on the bed while his wife sat beside him, trying to hold his hand, trying to speak sense into him. He stared at her quietly, without saying a word. His strength was fading, and though she was still talking, he barely responded.

Then the nurse walked in with the twins.

When his wife saw them, anger immediately shot into her eyes.
“Who told you people that we need extra hands in the hospital? What are you two doing here?” she demanded sharply.

Rachel stepped forward without fear. “We have something to tell your husband.”

“What is important now is saving his life, not whatever message you’re carrying,” the wife barked. “What can be more important than that?”

Abigail exchanged glances with her sister. Rachel spoke first, “That’s exactly why we’re here. But before we tell him the truth—truth that will help all of us—we want him to allow me to be with Madu, and allow my sister to be with Robert.”

“So this is what you came for?” the woman snapped. “Is this what you want? For him to be in danger and you’re here asking for last-minute wishes?”

Sir Danfudu slowly turned to them. His voice was calm, too calm, the type that came from weakness not peace. “Don’t you girls see that I’m not strong?” It was the first time they had ever heard him address them in such a soft tone.

Rachel moved closer. “Just accept our request, sir. If you do, we will tell you the truth that will set you free. The truth can even help save your life.”

“Are you a magician now?” the wife jumped in again, rolling her eyes.

“There is no magic here,” Rachel replied. “Only truth.”

Sir Danfudu sighed. “I don’t even have strength for all this. Just go ahead and marry whoever you want. Stop disturbing my head.”

“We have heard,” Abigail said gently. “But we can’t let you breathe your last without hearing the truth—without giving you a chance to correct the past. If we keep quiet, we are paying wrong for wrong.”

“Tell me the truth then,” he said weakly.

“Ask your wife to give us a moment,” Rachel said.

“I’m not leaving,” the wife insisted.

He turned to her. “Let them talk.”

“Go on,” she said impatiently.

Rachel took a deep breath. “Me and my sister… Abigail… we are your daughters.”

The words hit the room like thunder. Sir Danfudu’s eyes widened. He tried to sit up. His wife blinked rapidly, completely confused.

“Can you repeat that?” she asked, her voice cracking.

“Your husband… our boss… the man who was our late mother’s master… he is our father.”

Sir Danfudu stared at them, breathing heavily. “Are you serious?”

“Yes,” Rachel answered firmly. “Our mom told us everything. Before she passed, she left us a letter explaining who our real father is. And it is you.”

“How… how is that possible?” his wife exclaimed.

“There is no time for long discussions,” he said, tears forming in his tired eyes. “Call the doctor. Now.”

One twin rushed out and returned with the doctor. Sir Danfudu pointed at the girls.
“Doctor, they claim to be my biological children. Please run a test. Confirm it.”

The doctor nodded and immediately took them to the lab. The samples were collected, and he promised to do the tests as quickly and accurately as possible.

Back in the room, Sir Danfudu’s wife paced angrily. Every few seconds she muttered something under her breath.

“My husband will explain,” she kept saying. “How can someone who worked for us… how can her children…” She couldn’t even complete the sentence. Everything was too overwhelming.

But the truth had already begun its journey.

And the results, when they arrived, would change every single thing.

To be Continued….

14/11/2025

Goodnight lovelies❤️❤️❤️❤️
Next episode of our beautiful story drops first thing tomorrow morning. Stay tuned.

14/11/2025

MOM'S MASTER IS OUR DAD

EPISODE 17

By: Anusiem’s Daughter

So his wife and the children went back home that evening, heartbroken and speechless. The silence in the car was heavier than anything they had ever felt. Everyone was lost in thought, trying to process what they had just heard from the hospital.

The children felt betrayed. They couldn’t believe that the man they had called father all their lives was not their biological dad. And now, that same man needed a bone marrow transplant from a compatible donor — someone who shared his blo0d. But the tests had confirmed none of them were a match.

When they got home, their mother could no longer hold back her tears. She burst into loud sobs, her cries echoing through the house. Her voice was so heavy with pain that the sound drew the attention of everyone at home. The housemaids, her relatives, and even the neighbors who heard her rushed into the sitting room. They found her sitting on the floor, weeping uncontrollably.

Her eldest daughter, Amina, knelt beside her. “Mummy, please stop crying and tell us what really happened,” she begged.

Through her tears, their mother spoke, her words trembling with guilt.

“It was not entirely my fault… It was your father’s fault too. In those early years of our marriage, he was always angry. He used to beat me and insult me for every little mistake. Sometimes I would run away from the house in tears, and wander outside in the dark because I had nowhere else to go.”

The children listened quietly, shocked and confused.

“There was a man who once helped me,” she continued. “He found me crying one night and offered me shelter. He was kind to me, treated me well, and made me feel human again. I was weak and broken… and that was when everything happened. I didn’t plan it. I didn’t even know that what happened that night would follow me for the rest of my life.”

Her voice broke again. “That man… he was a cab driver.”

The children gasped.

“A taxi driver?” Amina asked, wide-eyed.

Their mother nodded slowly, unable to meet their eyes. Shame covered her face.

“Yes. I believe he’s your real father. Around that same time, my husband was already struggling with some personal health issues. He wasn’t well, and things were not working between us as a couple. I thought everything was fine after that night, but I later realized I was pregnant. I honestly believed the children were my husband’s. I never suspected otherwise.”

Amina stood up suddenly, pacing around the room. “So all these years, we’ve been calling another man father?” she cried. “And now that he needs us the most, we can’t even help him?”

Her mother buried her face in her hands. “I’m sorry, my children. I didn’t mean for things to be this way.”

The room was filled with silence. Even her own heart couldn’t forgive her.

Meanwhile, their father was still lying in the hospital bed, weak and pale. Time was running out for him. Every second that passed brought him closer to the edge.

Back home, the family was in confusion. Amina’s brother, Rahim, who was twenty-two, kept pacing back and forth. Amina herself was almost twenty-five. Their minds were spinning, trying to figure out what to do next.

Their mother suddenly remembered something important. “Wait,” she said quietly, “Rahim was born abroad. Maybe the hospital...”

But even she knew it was almost impossible to find their father. She didn’t even know where that man — the cab driver — was anymore. It had been more than two decades since she last saw him.

Everyone sat in silence again, deep in thought.

At that same moment, in another part of the house, Rachel and Abigail, the twin daughters from the man's servant, were whispering to each other.

Rachel pulled Abigail to a corner of their room. “You’ve heard what’s happening, right? The man we call master is about to lose his life.”

Abigail frowned. “He’s still our father, no matter what he did.”

Rachel scoffed. “Father? The same man who made life miserable for us and for Mom? You know how he treated her. Maybe this is just karma coming for him.”

“Don’t say that,” Abigail said quietly. “Even if he hurt us, we can’t wish him bad. You know what Mom always says — two wrongs don’t make a right.”

Rachel shook her head. “You’re too soft, Abigail. That man doesn’t deserve our pity. But…” she paused, lowering her voice, “…if he really needs a donor, this might be our only chance to change our lives. If we help him, he’ll owe us everything. Maybe he’ll finally see us as his real children.”

Abigail looked at her sister, confused. “So, you’re saying we should donate to save him… but only so we can get something out of it?”

Rachel sighed. “Look around you, Abigail. We’ve suffered enough. We’ve always been treated like outsiders. Amina and Rahim look down on us, their mother ignores us, and our own father barely noticed we existed. But now, we’re the only hope he has. If we play this right, maybe we can finally have a better life.”

Abigail bit her lip. “I don’t know, Rachel. This sounds risky. What if things go wrong?”

Rachel placed her hand on her sister’s shoulder. “If we don’t try, he’ll d1e… and we’ll lose everything. Think about it.”

Abigail stared at her sister for a long moment, torn between compassion and anger.

That night, the two sisters couldn’t sleep. Rachel believed fate had finally given them a chance to rewrite their story. But Abigail’s heart was heavy with guilt and confusion.

If you were Abigail, would you agree to donate your bone marrow to save the same man who once caused your family pain?

To Be Continued….

13/11/2025

MOM'S MASTER IS OUR DAD

EPISODE 16

By: Anusiem’s Daughter

No one had heard anything from Amina’s dad since morning. His phone had been unreachable, and tension was rising in the house. Everyone feared something was wrong.

His wife, worried and restless, sat down with the children and spoke softly, trying to hold back tears.

“Your dad hasn’t been feeling fine for some days now. He’s been complaining that his heart beats too fast, that he feels weak even when he’s resting. He said his mouth gets dry often, and sometimes he struggles to breathe, especially when he walks or tries to do anything stressful.”

The children listened quietly, their faces showing worry and confusion. Their mother rubbed her palms together nervously, glancing at the clock every few seconds.

As she was speaking, the owner of the small electronics shop close to where Amina’s father had parked his car earlier walked past them. He was opening his shop, humming to himself, unaware of their anxiety. Immediately, Amina’s mother stood up and ran toward him.

“Good afternoon, sir,” she greeted quickly, out of breath.

“Good afternoon, madam, I fit help you, you want buy,” he replied, in pidgin, surprised by her urgency.

“Please,” she said, pointing at the car parked by the roadside, “this is my husband’s car. We’ve been calling him since morning but his phone isn’t going through. Did you by any chance see when this car was parked here?”

The man nodded slowly. “Yes, I saw him,” he said.

Her eyes widened. “Please, what happened to him? Who parked the car?”

“I think he was the one,” the man explained. “He stepped out of the car, and as he tried to come towards my shop, he suddenly collapsed.”

“Collapsed!” she screamed, her voice shaking.

The children rushed closer. “Please, sir, where is he now?”

“He was taken to the nearby hospital,” the man said. “I believe it’s the General Hospital.”

Without wasting a second, she thanked the man and hurried to her car. The children followed, still in shock. She drove straight to the General Hospital, praying silently under her breath.

When they arrived, she ran to the reception, asking questions until she was finally directed to the ward where her husband had been admitted.

The doctor came out to meet them, his face calm but serious. “You must be his family?”

“Yes, doctor,” she said quickly. “What happened to my husband?”

The doctor sighed. “He’s been unconscious since he was brought in, but he just regained consciousness a few minutes ago. I was about to call you.”

“Will he be okay?” she asked desperately.

“We’re doing our best,” the doctor replied, “but there’s a serious issue.”

“Doctor, please don’t worry about money. Whatever it takes, we’ll pay,” she said quickly.

The doctor nodded. “Your husband actually made a deposit when he woke up. He told us to do everything possible to save his life.”

Her heart sank. “Is it that serious?”

“I’m afraid so,” the doctor said. “We have discovered that your husband is suffering from severe anemia. His body isn’t producing enough red blo0d cells, and he will need a bone marrow transplant to survive.”

She gasped. “How is that done, doctor?”

“It requires a compatible donor,” the doctor explained. “Usually, the best match is found among the patient’s biological children.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh no… not now.”

“I’m afraid that’s the only solution,” the doctor said gently.

She nodded slowly. There was no time to argue. Her husband had already instructed the doctor to run tests on the children to find a suitable match. Everyone was confident—after all, they were his kids.

But deep down, she looked worried, uneasy, her husband's situation was stressing her. She kept pacing around the hospital corridor as the tests were carried out.

Hours later, the doctor returned to the ward where her husband lay weakly on the bed. Instead of smiling, the doctor looked disturbed.

“Sir,” he began softly, “I think we have a problem.”

The man struggled to sit up. “What kind of problem, doctor?”

“Please, is the woman who was here earlier your wife?”

“Yes,” he replied slowly.

“And those children, are they hers?”

“Yes, of course,” he said, now frowning.

“Are you their stepfather?” the doctor asked carefully.

He shook his head. “No, doctor. I’m their biological father. She gave birth to them after our wedding, in my house.”

The doctor looked down, then back at him. “I’m sorry, sir, but the tests don’t agree with that. According to the medical report… those children are not biologically yours.”

The man blinked, stunned. “What? That can’t be true! Doctor, please, run the test again. There must be a mistake somewhere.”

“I ran the tests several times, sir,” the doctor said calmly. “The results were the same. None of the children share your DNA.”

The man’s mouth went dry. “Do you mean… my wife—”

The doctor cut in softly. “Maybe you should speak with her directly. She will be able to explain better.”

When his wife returned to the ward, she found him sitting up, staring blankly into space. His eyes were red, his lips trembling.

“Is everything okay?” she asked nervously.

He turned slowly toward her. “So… tell me. Whose children are they?”

She froze. The children, who had followed her in, stood silently at the door.

“Talk to me, woman!” he shouted weakly.

Tears filled her eyes. She knew there was no escaping it now. “Please forgive me,” she said in a trembling voice. “It’s true… they’re not your children.”

The room went silent. The man couldn’t believe his ears.

She continued, still crying. “You never made me feel loved. You were always angry, always in a hurry. You never cared if I was happy or not. You only thought about yourself. I was lonely, broken… and one day, I made a terrible mistake. I met someone who made me feel cared for, and I lost control.”

The man’s eyes filled with tears. “So while I was working hard for this family, another man was raising his children in my house?”

She fell to her knees, weeping. “I’m sorry… I never meant for things to go this way. I just wanted to feel alive again.”

He turned his face away, too weak to speak further. His heart ached—not just from the illness, but from betrayal.

The doctor quietly left the room, leaving them to face the storm they had both created.

And as the evening light faded outside the hospital window, one truth echoed in his mind:
Sometimes, the people closest to us hold the deepest secrets.

To be continued...

13/11/2025

MOM'S MASTER IS OUR DAD

EPISODE 15
By: Anusiem’s Daughter

Then Amina explained her secret plan to her father.

“Papa, if we allow her to go out one last time to meet Madu, we’ll know who exactly is seeing him. The trick is to mark one of them — the one who stays behind. We don’t need to tell them anything. It’ll be our little secret, and it will help us.”

Her father looked at her and nodded slowly.

“You are very smart, Amina. I see sense in what you are saying. I’ll come up with something to make it work.”

That was how their plan began — a plan to find out the real difference between the twin sisters, Abigail and Rachel. From the day the girls were born, their resemblance had been so strong that even their mother sometimes called one by the other’s name. Now that both of them were grown and a man had come between them, it was time to know who was who.

Amina wasn’t at ease, because she knew the plan meant letting Rachel go out again with Madu. She was scared that if Rachel met Madu one more time, the truth would come out. But she also needed that meeting to identify the twin he was truly dating.

So she decided to trick Rachel. One bright morning, Amina walked into the twins’ room pretending to be cheerful.

“Guess what, girls? Madu is coming to visit today. He said he wants to see my father about something important.”

She said it casually, but her eyes were watching closely to see which of the twins would react.

Rachel’s face instantly brightened. She hurried to the wardrobe and picked out her best gown — a soft, flowing one with bright colors. She brushed her hair carefully, sprayed perfume, and sat down pretending to scroll through her phone. She had no idea it was all a setup.

Amina smiled to herself. “Got you,” she whispered.

Later that afternoon, she went back to the girls and announced,

“Robert just called. He wants to speak with one of you.”

Immediately, Abigail jumped up excitedly.

“Please, let me talk to him! Daddy said we shouldn’t go out, so at least let me talk to him on the phone.”

That was all Amina needed to complete her plan. She secretly took note of what both twins were wearing — Rachel’s flowy gown and Abigail’s short floral dress — and rushed to tell her father.

Sir Don Danfodu didn’t waste time. He called a man who was known in the area for drawing small body marks — nothing serious, just simple initials used to identify people. When the man arrived, Sir Don gathered the twins in the sitting room.

“From today, I don’t want any confusion in this house again,” he said sternly. “I have decided to put your initials on your necks, so I can always tell who is who.”

Abigail’s eyes widened.

“Please, sir, I don’t like tattoos.”

But he raised his hand, signaling for silence.

“I am not asking. I’m telling you. It’s for your own good.”

So, just like bosses in those days who used marks to tell their workers apart, he had it done. Rachel was marked with a small ‘R’, and Abigail got ‘Abi’ — two small letters that carried the weight of control.

From that day, Sir Don could easily tell who was who, and it became easier to monitor their movements.

Weeks later, Madu finally went to see Sir Don to express his intention to marry Rachel. But the man was not pleased.

“You cannot marry her,” he said sharply. “When my own daughter is here? She likes you — even if she hasn’t told you. Go for my daughter, Amina. Forget the twins. If you agree, I’ll provide everything you need for your wedding.”

But Madu had already made up his mind. His heart belonged to Rachel. Sir Don saw that he couldn’t change it with words, so he decided to change it with action.

He ordered that Rachel should not go out again. No visits, no outings, no phone calls. He didn’t tell Madu the real reason. He just made his household obey strict instructions and warned them never to mention that the command came from him. Everyone in the house feared his authority and didn’t dare question him.

Days passed. Rachel kept trying to reach Madu through her phone. They still chatted secretly at night until one day — her phone went missing. No one saw it again. She suspected someone had taken it intentionally to stop their communication. Around the same time, Abigail also lost contact with Robert. Everything seemed like a plan — and it probably was.

Though they had succeeded in separating the lovers physically, they couldn’t stop what was already in their hearts. Both Rachel and Madu longed for each other.

Then, one morning, something strange happened. Sir Don went out alone as usual. He drove himself without his driver and didn’t tell anyone where he was going. By evening, he had not returned.

They called his phone, but it wasn’t going through. Everyone in the family became worried. It wasn’t the first time he went out alone, but this time felt different. Hours turned into a full day. Still, no sign of him.

By the next morning, rumors started spreading. Someone claimed to have seen his car parked near the general hospital, engine off, but no one inside. The doors were locked.

The family rushed there immediately, praying it wasn’t true. When they arrived, it was indeed his car. They tried calling him again — still nothing.

People around said they hadn’t seen anyone near the car the night before. It was as if he vanished into thin air. Some said maybe he was attacked, others thought he had an accident somewhere. No one knew for sure.

The whole family stood there, staring at the car in silence — fear and confusion written on every face.

What really happened to Sir Don Danfodu?
And how would Amina’s secret plan unfold now that her father had suddenly disappeared?

To Be Continued...

12/11/2025

MOM'S MASTER IS OUR DAD

EPISODE 14

By: Anusiem's Daughter

When Sir Don Danfodu returned from his business trip, he didn’t want to openly stop Rachel’s relationship with Madu. He preferred to act like a protective man who was only trying to prevent his house from being deceived by a young stranger, even though deep down he knew exactly what was going on. So he called Rachel to the living room and began to question her sharply.

“Who was that young man I heard came here to see you?” he asked.

“He was Madu, sir,” Rachel answered, trying to keep her voice steady.

“So you have been bringing a man into my house without my permission? You are here because you have no shelter and I thought it fair to let both of you help with the house chores instead of just lying around.” He sounded more like a judge than a man with a soft spot in his chest.

“He is not just any man, sir. He is serious and responsible and I wanted to introduce him to—” Rachel tried to explain, but Sir Don Danfodu snapped, “Shut up when I’m speaking.”

“Please sir, I am already old enough to know who—” she began.

This time he didn’t only shut her up with his furious voice; he delivered a very hard slap across her cheek, a slap that hit like a public rebuke.

“You don’t talk when I’m talking,” he barked.

It hurt Abigail to see her sister struck, and she couldn’t hold herself back. “Please sir, why are you slapping my sister? If you don’t want us here, we’d rather go suffer in the street than stay in a house where we are treated like outcasts. This is no home,” she said, her anger and pain trembling in every word.

She joined her elder sister and they clung to each other, sobbing.

“I don’t ever want to see you with that young man again.” Sir Don Danfodu’s voice had returned to its stern, commanding tone. Then he rang the bell and left them standing.

Hours later, in the evening, Sir Don Danfodu called both girls to him again and gave an ultimatum.

“As long as you are under my roof,” he said slowly, “I don’t want to see any man come to my house to take you out. Your late mother was a humble woman, and I don’t know where Abigail’s boldness comes from. It is because of your mother that I still allow both of you here. Your mother was meek and would never speak to me like that, even if she was angry.”

“I am sorry, sir,” Abigail replied, swallowing hard. “I might be acting like my father. It’s in my blood.”

“And who is your father that you are left homeless?” Sir Don Danfodu shot back. “Where was he when your mother single-handedly brought you up?”

“One day we will all find out, sir,” Abigail answered, but her words landed like a stone in the room. He couldn’t help but notice the defiance, the same stubborn pride he saw in himself—though he had no idea then that he was the man she hinted at.

Despite everything, he still allowed them to stay. No one had ever defied his authority and then remained under his roof overnight, but he felt a strange obligation to offer them shelter. It was a small soft spot in a heart that had learned to be hard.

Of course, this shelter came at a cost. He no longer needed full-time house staff; the two sisters were more than capable of keeping the house in order. He didn’t pay them a proper salary—only a small token for personal needs—so the girls worked every day to keep the semblance of peace.

Stopping them from seeing Madu became a serious issue. Abigail was ready to climb over the fence if that’s what it would take to meet Robert—her resolve was fierce. Meanwhile, Amina and her father were doing everything they could to turn Madu’s affections away from Rachel and toward Amina. They could not easily tell the twins apart, and so they decided the only way to keep Madu from visiting was to make a clear difference between Abigail and Rachel.

Amina, restless and cunning, started thinking out loud one evening. “Father, I think we can do something to mark them, so everyone will know who is who.”

“How? They might still find a way to fool us,” her father warned.

“I know,” Amina said, eyes bright with scheming. “But we need a mark—something people will notice. Not something to hurt them, but something permanent enough to show who is who. Maybe a henna mark, or a small tattoo—something that will stay.”

“How can we do that without causing trouble?” her father asked, anxious but intrigued by the plan.

“I have an idea,” Amina said, and she sounded very sure of herself.

They spoke in whispers after that, plotting the how and when. The house carried on its daily noise—dishes, footsteps, the low hum of the generator—but beneath that ordinary bustle a plan was growing, one that could change everything for Rachel and Abigail.

Rachel and Abigail kept to themselves, trying to rebuild some normalcy after the slap and the harsh words. They worked together, cooked together and cried together, leaning on memories of their mother. Sometimes Rachel would press her palm to her cheek where the sting of the slap still tingled and think about Madu—his laugh, his hand on hers—and a wave of longing would crash over her.

Abigail, fierce and proud, kept promising herself she would not bow to anyone who tried to break them. “Our mother wouldn’t have wanted it this way,” she whispered to Rachel one night. “We will survive. We always do.”

But Amina and her father were patient. They would wait for the right moment to make their move, and when they did, Rachel and Abigail would have to fight—not with fists, but with their wits and the strength their mother had given them.

To be Continued….

Anusiem’s Daughter - Gloria Ashagwara

16/11/2025

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