http://www.ofunneceo.blogspot.com/

Ajebo Writer, Ikeja, Lagos (2025)

21/12/2025

For six years of marriage, I never suspected my wife of cheating

Not once

Then, a few weeks ago, something changed

My wife started hiding her phone. She even put a password on it.

This is a woman who, for six years even while we were dating, never used a PIN. Her phone was always open. I had unrestricted access

Now, I find her whispering on calls
Stepping outside to talk on the phone, even hiding and chatting on the phone

I wanted to confront her. But I didn’t want to tip her off. I needed proof

I wanted to catch my wife cheating red handed so I can deal with her ruthlessly

Infidelity is my one and only deal breaker. We discussed it while dating. I told her about my past, about how betrayal broke something in me that never fully healed.

You can do anything to me, lie, steal, whatever but never ever cheat on me. I can unalive you. I told her how my ex cheated on me and I never could trust again

So when I noticed the signs, my mind went to one place.

How could she do this after six years?
After three children?
After everything I provide, everything I give?

I don’t deny her anything. I don’t mistreat her. She lacks nothing.

So I waited patiently and planned carefully.

One day, she entered her password without knowing I was watching. I memorized it.

Now I just needed time to check her phone

That was the hardest part.

She’s always on her phone. Cooking, in the restroom, even when we’re sleeping, it’s under her pillow and she’s a light sleeper. The bad thing is I’m not. I sleep before her and I sleep deep.

Opportunity never came…

Until it did.

She went for vigil one night. Came back exhausted and fell into a deep sleep.

That was my moment.

I picked up her phone, my heart pounding, ready to finally confirm my fears

I wasn’t prepared for what I found out

There was no evidence of her cheating

Instead, there was evidence of me!

All the noods I’ve been sending to different girls here on IG and TikTok, receipts of money I’ve sent for transport and hotel lodgings…

Even the segz videos I made and locked in my phone, she had them all!

This woman had quietly built a full CIA and FBI standard investigation on me!

And the most frightening part?

She never confronted me

Not once

She still smiles, still cooks, still laughs, and even makes love to me anytime I want. As if nothing is wrong

Like what kind of a woman is this? Isn’t she a psycho cos no normal human being will do this

I deleted everything I found. I don’t know why — panic, or maybe fear

She woke up later.
And I know she knows that I know.

I’m waiting for her to confront me, instead she is cooking Jollof rice everyday and egusi soup for me

I’ve stopped eating her food
I barely sleep
I’ve lost weight
I’m not at peace in my own house again

I’m tired

And now I don’t know what scares me more —
what I did…
or the silence of a woman who knows everything and chooses to say nothing

Should I confess?
Should I apologize?
Or should I keep waiting for a confrontation that may never come?

I’m tired

Please advise me

The End

Ajebo Writer

©️Kingdavid Chinaeke Ofunne

20/12/2025

My wife ties wrapper too much.
Wrapper in the morning.
Wrapper in the afternoon.
Wrapper at night! 😭

Before we got married, this same woman was a certified baddie. Always hot, dangerously hot and intentional

In fact the first time I saw her, she was at the mall… she wore bum shorts and crop top. I was staring at her body until she turned and caught me red handed

That was the moment I knew that this one will scatter my destiny… beautifully o.

I stopped and gave her a lift and couldn’t stop staring at her thighs and cleavage.

But few years after marriage?
She retired from hotness and baddie status.

Now, all the things I loved about her she intentionally stopped doing them. Makeup is now “stress.” Looking good is now “not necessary.” Dressing sexy is now “I’m tired.” She doesn’t even make any effort

Before we got married, my wife used to dress up for no reason. Now she ties wrapper to go and take her bath, brush her teeth, even to go outside the house and buy something, my wife will tie wrapper!!!

We’re only three years in this marriage and I swear she’s not the woman I used to know. She has become a shadow of herself.

At night she doesn’t even arouse me anymore. If I’m in the mood and I see her tying wrapper… I lose er****on immediately

I’ve complained, nagged and even fought over it, but she won’t change. Once I start complaining, she’ll say she’s now a mother and her priorities have changed. Is she not seeing other mothers?

Is Tiwa Savage not a mother? T**e Makinwa too, even Anne Idibia and wait… Iyabo Ojo, who’s even a grandmother yet they look very hot!!!

Yet she’ll give flimsy excuses like, “I can’t live like a single slay queen. What sort of example am I setting for our daughter?”

But I’m not complaining. I love you skimpy and wild, is that too much to ask?

I’ve tried to do things to irritate and blackmail her into changing. So I started pooping without flushing but I couldn’t sustain it cos I’m a clean guy.

And besides she didn’t even mind, she flushed it for me like it’s normal and didn’t even bring it up

Then last week…
My colleague invited me to a club for his birthday.
I told my wife: “Dress sexy, and meet me there!”

After work I drove there straight.
All my guys’ wives came with mini skirts and segzy clothes

After about an hour, my wife arrived with wrapper and T-shirt.
TO CLUB!!!

People were staring.
I almost fainted.
I was so embarrassed, I left immediately with her.

It’s a miracle we didn’t trend because people were already bringing out their phones to record before I rushed her out.

I’ve not spoken to her since then and I’ve been the laughing stock in my office since that day.

She said she did it on purpose.
That I can’t force her to be who she’s not.

Now I’m thinking deeply…
Should I just burn all the wrappers in this house?
Or maybe…
I should start cheating on her with someone who does all these things so she’ll learn, and learn the hard way!

Please advise me because I love my wife but this her love and obsession for wrapper will d3stroy our marriage.

The End

Ajebo Writer

©️Kingdavid Chinaeke Ofunne

18/12/2025

My girlfriend wants me to give her father 20 million!!!

My girlfriend called me, crying hysterically. She said her father had been kidnapped, and the kidnappers were demanding a 50 million naira ransom or they’d unalive him. She begged me to help, saying they had already raised 30 million but still needed 20 million more.

“Where will I get 20 million from in this economy?”

She was desperate, suggesting I borrow from the bank, friends, or business partners. She even asked if I could put up my house and business as collateral—anything to save her father.

I told her I’d see what I could do, but after she hung up, I sat down and thought about it

Her father never liked me. From the first day he saw me, he looked at me like I was trash, a no-good nobody. He said I wasn’t good enough for his daughter, always called me useless and wretched. He even told me to my face that I came from nothing and had nothing to offer his daughter. He accused me of being a gold digger

But I know my worth. My father may not have been rich, but he was a man I loved and respected. He worked hard to make sure I got an education, and I became the first graduate in our family

Now, I run a large, successful fish pond and poultry farm, I own my own house and car, and I support my younger siblings. What more could this man want from me?

If I took a loan and put everything I owned on the line, what would happen if they unalived him? Who would pay back the loan? His family wouldn’t be able to, and I’d be left with nothing

Even worse, after all that, his daughter might break up with me anyway—either out of grief or because I’d become exactly what her father always said I was, poor and wretched

She called again, begging, crying, saying I was her last hope

How could I be her last hope? Didn’t her rich father have wealthy friends or family to help raise the money?

She kept calling, so I finally switched off my phone. I needed sleep after the long operation I’d been through the night before

Later that night, I drove to my “poultry,” deep in the bush, where my guys were waiting. We laughed and hugged, then I walked into the room where my girlfriend’s father was tied up and blindfolded

I looked at him with disgust. This was the same man who had belittled me, the so-called powerful, rich man who treated everyone like they were beneath him. Now, he was at my mercy, crying and shaking like a little b***h

Without a word, I picked up a long cane and gave him the beating of his life. He screamed and begged, but I felt nothing but satisfaction. Afterward, I made sure his blindfold was still secure, then I unzipped my trousers, brought out my long preeq I used in fvcking his daughter and pi**ed on him

I made sure it splashed inside his mouth, I would have loved to p*e inside his eyes but I didn’t want to remove the blindfold and expose myself.

I spat on him when I was done and stepped outside to speak to my guys. “If they don’t pay the ransom by tomorrow, cut off one of his fingers and send it to the address I gave you. That should motivate them.”

The next day at 11 a.m., my girlfriend called, crying uncontrollably. The kidnappers had sent one of her father’s fingers in an envelope

I screamed and cried with her, pretending to share her pain, and promised to make more calls to raise the money

Now, I’m on my way to her house to sympathize with the family. Hopefully, I can squeeze out a few tears to make it look convincing.

The End

Ajebo Writer

©️Kingdavid Chinaeke Ofunne

16/12/2025

It’s 1 p.m., and I’m watching him

I’ve been watching him since 2 a.m.—tossing and turning on the bed, sweating despite the air conditioner. But this afternoon is different. This afternoon, I’m ready to meet him

The tall, dark, chocolate-skinned, handsome man who stole my heart with his dimples and diastema

The first time I noticed him, I had gone to the boutique in our area to buy panties and a new pair of slippers

“Hi,” he said softly. “I’m trying to buy a dress for the most beautiful and special lady in my life. Which color do you think would suit her skin better—red or black? She’s fair in complexion… just like you.”

He smiled as he held up two dresses from the rack

Chai. God when will somebody’s son find me, oh? I said in my mind.

“The red,” I replied, smiling back

“Thank you so much.” He smiled again, revealing the gap-toothed grin that took my breath away.

As I turned toward the cashier, he stepped up behind me and, with one swift move, paid for my items.

“You didn’t have to,” I said, while doing backflips in my head. If I had known, I would have picked more underwear—maybe even jeans.

“I want to,” he replied.

Then he handed me a branded paper bag.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“You helped me choose a beautiful dress for the most beautiful girl in the world,” he said calmly. “They’re for you, baby—because you’re the most beautiful girl in my world.”

“Oh my God.” I almost screamed. “You’re so sweet.”

“My name is Peller.” He stretched out his hand

“I’m Jarvis,” I replied, blushing

We exchanged numbers. That was the beginning of our love story

Now, today, dressed in the black gown—his favorite, the one I wore the last time we saw—I put my hands behind my back and watch him silently

He walks like a ghost now. No longer bold. No longer confident

I move closer, tracking every step, following him everywhere without raising suspicion

He stops abruptly. I think he senses me

He turns around, startled

He doesn’t see me. He quickens his pace toward his car

The wicked runneth when no man pursueth, I smile, quoting the scripture

He opens the door of his latest Benz G-Wagon—and slips inside quickly

He turns the ignition

Then he looks into the rearview mirror

He sees me

I smile

He screams

He bolts out of the car, running like a madman, faster than fear itself. He doesn’t stop until he’s nearly a hundred yards away

Panting… Gasping for air

He stops

I give him a few seconds—just enough to give him the illusion of freedom

Then I tap him

“Jesus!” he screams

The slap lands first

Then my cane rises and falls, again and again, tearing through his flesh and into his soul. I whip him all over his body

“Jesus! Jesus! Jesus, save me!”

“Shut up,” I laugh. “Jesus won’t save you, ritualist. I’ve come to give you your daily dose of flogging.”

“Jarvis, please! Forgive me! I’m sorry!” he screams

“In ur next life, u won’t use any woman for money rituals,” I say coldly. “Oya. Off off ur clothes. Now.”

I keep flogging him while I laugh mercilessly

The whole street fills within seconds. Doors fling open, Phones come out, pointed at us... well, at him, as people record and talk animatedly

“Chai! See this fine boy. See how he just park car begin run mad!” someone says.

“Na yahoo boy be this o. He just park his benz down the road come begin run mad. E be like say dem dey even flog am,” another adds.

“Na village people don use am. All this fine small boys, eh. Dem don use his destiny,” a third voice concludes.

I pay them no attention

I keep flogging Peller

I keep laughing

I keep enjoying the pain I’m inflicting on him as he enjoyed mine…

Because this is the same man who put a knife to my throat…
the same man who cut off my head for money rituals
after five months of love.

I keep flogging him and thanking my father for burying my headless body with a cane and asking me to avenge my death.

The End

Ajebo Writer

©️Kingdavid Chinaeke Ofunne

15/12/2025

I live in a very rough neighborhood

If you’re new, naïve, or don’t know your way around, anything can happen to you—especially during the festive season.

In fact, my neighborhood is so rough that if any fine chick strolls in alone, the guys won’t let her rest until she’s taken.

So one day, a ravishing, succulent, sumptuous Black beauty moved into the area

She was thick. Full laps. Robust and solid. Every time she walked past, I licked my lips and whistled loud. I’ve always loved them thick—full laps, fat behind—and she had it all

Naturally, we all wondered if she belonged to anyone we knew

All my guys watched her for days

Me? I activated my investigative prowess

I stylishly asked around, carefully, without raising suspicion—trying to find out if she’d been seen with anyone in the neighborhood. No one had answers

That was when I swore to myself that this one would be mine this December

After all, harmattan was coming. A man needs something to hold body

Every day, I watched her like a hawk—walking around like she owned the world. She moved her round, fat yansh everywhere, shaking it left and right, somehow looking rounder and finer with each passing day

Soon enough, I realized I wasn’t the only one eyeing her

I had to act fast before these criminals beat me to it and got a taste

Then I noticed something important

She loved food

A proper foodie—just like me. Anytime she entered our street, she was either eating something or searching for what to eat

That was when I set my trap

I waited for the time she usually showed up—between 5 and 6 in the evening

That day, I started cooking. I made sure my kitchen window was wide open so the aroma could travel freely and go outside

Like clockwork, she arrived by 5 p.m. sharp

I p*eped through the window and saw her walk in as usual. She stopped. Turned. Then—just as I hoped—started walking toward my room

Yes. The plan was working

Sharp sharp, I opened my door. Like a zombie, she walked in as if she had rented the place for me

The moment she entered, I jumped on her—and missed

I had failed to imagine how fast she could be, especially with her size. She ran off, screaming at the top of her lungs

I quickly increased the volume of my speakers

Nobody would save her from me today. The music swallowed her screams

She ran from the sitting room into the bedroom. I shut the door with her inside, rushed to the kitchen, and grabbed my new kitchen knife

Then I entered the room, locked the door, removed my clothes and left only my boxers—and the chase began

Within seconds, with nowhere left to run, I caught her by the throat. I was all sweaty and panting

I carried her into the kitchen. The pot was already boiling
I set her down—and calmly cut off the head of the chicken I had been eyeing for days

I couldn’t do it outside. I didn’t want any evidence, in case her owner was one of us

I dipped the chicken into the boiling water. Once the feathers softened, I plucked them one by one

Some parts I boiled properly. The rest, I air-fried. I took my time with the laps—I’d been longing for them since the very first day she entered my street

That evening, I bought beer and invited my close guys—my accomplices in chicknapping

Together, we devoured the wings and laps, drank beer, and I narrated how I caught the latest chicken

I saw both envy… and admiration in their eyes

Christmas don set, and I still have some parts remaining in the fridge for new year that’s if I don’t get another chick before then.

So if there’s any fine chick in your neighborhood you desire but lack the guts—whether native, broiler, or hybrid—just call me.

I am the Chicknapper

We’ll share it 60/40

The End

Ajebo Writer

©️Kingdavid Chinaeke Ofunne

14/12/2025

My wife has been disturbing me to follow her to her friend’s church. According to her, the pastor sees and performs miracles.

I refused, and for days my wife started carrying face for me.

“Baby, what’s wrong with our church?” I asked her one day

She said the man would see something for us.

“Something like, what are we looking for?”

She told me to stop questioning her and just come along. For peace to reign, I finally agreed and followed her and her friend to the church

I was rocking the earrings my wife bought for me. A week earlier, she had also plaited my afro in one of those new styles young boys usually carry.

On our way to the church, I realized I had forgotten my wedding ring. I immediately started hiding my finger because I knew that if my wife noticed I forgot my ring but remembered my earrings, I was finished.

Luckily, she didn’t notice.

We got to the church and after a few hours of praise and worship, the pastor climbed the pulpit. After jumping up and down for some minutes, he suddenly looked straight at me, stared for some seconds, then pointed in my direction.

My wife’s and her friend’s eyes lit up with excitement. They nudged me up immediately and told me to go outside

“Go where? Did he ask me to come out?!” I asked them

They told me that’s how he operates. Once he points at you, you immediately run out because he has seen something for you

Reluctantly, I went out and stood at the altar where one of the ushers asked me to and everyone started clapping

The pastor left me standing there and continued preaching and shouting while I stood in front of the entire church, waiting.

After almost 30 minutes of standing, I turned and started walking back to my seat but I saw my wife and her friend frantically waving their hands at me to go back. One usher ran and asked me to please wait for the pastor to release me

“Release me? Am I under arrest?” I asked her

Next thing, the pastor turned to me and said I am possessed with a prideful spirit and I even have a spiritual wife and that’s why I am not married yet

I looked at him and said it’s a lie, that it’s actually my wife that invited me here. Then I pointed to my wife in the congregation

The pastor did not even flinch instead he smiled and said he knows I’m married physically, and if I don’t change my ways, cut my hair, remove my earrings, and start living a holy life, more girls will give birth for me

I told him my wife and I didn’t have kids yet because we had just gotten married, and no woman had given birth for me… yet.

He said he’s not talking about physical women or physical babies, that I have spiritual children from my spiritual wife, and if I don’t change I will have more

I told him as long as I’m not responsible for their upkeep and I’m not paying child support, then it’s fine.

Church scatter

That’s how my wife ran and came to carry me from the altar, and started apologizing for bringing me to the false prophet.

The End

Ajebo Writer

©️Kingdavid Chinaeke Ofunne

12/12/2025

The first time I ever slept over at my boyfriend’s place, I woke up to see him frowning at me like he failed JAMB. I asked if he was okay, he hissed and faced the wall.

I told myself, “Okay… maybe he’s just not a morning person.” Some people wake up with joy. Others wake up with violence. I ignored him.

The second night told me it wasn’t ordinary.

I opened my eyes around 3 a.m. and saw him sitting up… watching me.

Not smiling. Not admiring. Watching me with a scary look on his face

My heart nearly flew out of my chest. I jumped up immediately and started looking around, checking corners, checking shadows.

He asked, “What are you looking for?”

I didn’t even know the answer. I just knew something felt wrong. So I asked the only thing that made sense: “Why were you watching me like that? What happened?”

His reply shocked me.

“So you snore?”

I blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“So—you snore?”

I was confused. “I don’t know if I snore. I don’t monitor myself when I’m sleeping. How am I supposed to know?”

Then this man—my boyfriend—brought out his phone and pressed play.

Brothers and sisters… the sound that came out of that phone did not sound human. It was apocalypse.

It sounded like cassava grinding machine. The heavy industrial one they use to grind beans for akara.

I gasped. “Wh—What is that??”

He looked at me with an irritated and disgusting look and replied;
“Not what… who. That’s you. What kind of woman snores like an animal?”

I wanted the ground to open and swallow me. My shame was loud. I couldn’t even sleep again.

The next morning I quickly packed the bedsheets and his pyjamas and washed them as usual because my boyfriend bed-wets

When I finished, he sat me down and said my snoring is too loud that he had to lie to his neighbors and say he is the one snoring—just to protect my dignity, and that he’s sorry but he can’t continue this relationship again

“But I don’t complain about you p*eing on the bed. If I can overlook that why can’t you overlook my snoring?”

He said it’s not the same. At least we both sleep through his own vice but my snoring keeps him awake and he needs to sleep!

I’ve been begging and begging but he has refused to change his mind.

Please, what can I do to stop snoring?
I’m not fat. I don’t do stressful work. I work as a receptionist. It’s not tiredness.
I don’t even understand.

Somebody should help me, please before I lose my man completely.

The End

Ajebo Writer

© Kingdavid Chinaeke Ofunne

10/12/2025

I’m one of those guys who believes Nigerian girls are always hungry. Else, why is a first date always at a restaurant? Must you eat every time you meet a man?
Don’t you have food at home?

The worst are the ones who show up with their friends. Hungry bunch of shameless women.

One day, my babe woke up and said I should take her out and spoil her. I asked, “Where?” and she said, “A new restaurant just opened.”

Instant irritation. I was disgusted so I just left her on read and decided to entertain myself with some IG and TikTok girls. After chatting with about 13 girls, only one said something different about a first date.

Her name is Juliet and she said she didn’t like going out to eat. That she was unconventional and preferred spontaneity.

Omo my preeq stood!!! Could this be a sign from God? I asked myself while feeling like Romeo. “What do you mean by spontaneity?” I asked her

She said, “Pick me up, and I’ll surprise you.”

Say less. I jumped in my car and drove straight to her location. When I got there, she smiled and said, “Let’s go.”

Omo, this girl carried me to a spa for a manicure and pedicure. I was impressed. Anything but a restaurant!

As we entered, the staff greeted her like family. “Our madam!” “Our husband!” they said, looking at me.

Our husband ke? I smiled but kept my guard up cos e be like these girls wan guy guy man

“It’s like you come here often,” I said.

“Only with special people,” she replied with a sweet smile.

We sat down and they didn’t even ask her what she wanted they just went straight to work

After a few minutes, she turned to me and said, “Won’t you get your hands and legs done too?”

“How much?” I asked.

“₦80k per part,” she said casually.

I froze. “Sorry, what? Did you say 80k for private part?”

She laughed and said I’m funny then repeated what she said earlier. “₦80k for hands, ₦80k for legs.”

I burst out laughing, expecting her to join me, but everyone else was serious.

“Ajebo, what’s funny?” she asked.

“What’s funny is that hands and legs are now costlier than kidney,” I replied.

That’s their discount price because I’m a regular.”

Discount ke? I couldn’t believe it.
“So you mean you’re serious? But Juliet, how do you let your nails get so dirty they need ₦160k to clean?!”

She ignored me. “This energy you’re using to complain, use it to clean your nails. Honestly, they look tacky.”

“Tacky?” I looked at my nails.

“Yeah,” she said, stretching out her perfectly manicured fingers. “Can’t you see mine, looking demure?”

160k for hand and leg something Musa at the gate will use 500 naira to clean for me and still give me change. I was boiling inside

“So, how long will this take so we can head to my place afterward?” I asked

“Your place for what? Please, please please, I don’t follow men home on a first date,” she said with a serious face. “What kind of a girl do you think I am?”

I was shocked. It’s not like I wanted to do anything with her at home after-all I have a babe. I just wanted to get to know her on a deeper level. That’s all!

Anyways I smiled and said no problem, that’s how she missed her chance to get to know me on a deeper level because she assumed I wanted something more.

After a while, she added, “Babe, if you don’t clean your nails, I won’t let you even hold my hand.”

I laughed and said, “Okay, you win. I’ll do it. Just give me a second. Let me take off my
Shoes and put on my slippers inside the car.”

She smiled and said okay…

That was an hour ago.

She’s been calling me nonstop, but my phone is on silence because I’m on a date with the love of my life, my queen, my heartbeat.

We’re eaten chicken and Jollof rice at that new restaurant she mentioned. Lovely place, great food, amazing ambience. I no want different again. I’m okay with the devul I know.

The End

Ajebo Writer

©️Kingdavid Chinaeke Ofunne

09/12/2025

There’s this popular mart along my route that I stopped by on my way home from work

I just wanted to buy a few thing but then I got a call from my wife and ended up buying a lot more than I had intended to

As I got to my car outside, my hands were full and I was struggling to unlock the door with my keys

Out of nowhere, a woman RAN to my car and opened the door for me

“Thank you,” I blurted out in appreciation.

She smiled and said, “You can thank me by giving me a lift.”

“Where are you headed?”

“Ojota.”

“Okay, come in.”

Then she paused and said, “Can you wait for me to finish shopping?”

Women and audacity. Well, I was feeing generous besides she just helped me out.

So I said, “It’s fine. I’ll wait.”

She went back inside and started shopping. From my car, I watched her like a CCTV camera loading her cart.

She kept buying and buying and buying until it was very full.

She got to the cashier… She stood there for a while, then suddenly rushed back outside.

I assumed she was coming to ask me for more time or maybe to help her carry her things because her cart looked heavier than mine.

Being a gentleman, I stepped out of my car and walked towards her.

She looked me dead in the eyes and said:
“Please… my card is suddenly not working and there’s a queue. Can you come and pay for me?”

I looked at her bags from the transparent glass. Looked at my own. Everything I bought was around 75k, and her things were double of mine.

I did the math in my head. If mine was 75k, hers would be a 100k plus!

I smiled and said, “No problem at all. I’ll meet you inside. Let me just get my card from the car.”

She smiled, thanked me, and ran back inside.

That was when I entered my car, started my engine, reversed calmly, and disappeared from the scene of the crime.

Oleburuku.

The End

Ajebo Writer

©️Kingdavid Chinaeke Ofunne

08/12/2025

There’s a woman who lives across the street from my house with her daughter.

The girl looks no older than seven, though she should be twelve or thirteen but due to malnourishment and constant abuse from her mother she looks sick and fragile

I hat3 the woman… I hat3 her… I hat3 her… I hat3 her because of how she treats her daughter

That morning, I watched it happen again as I drove to the office. She was beating her daughter again, blaming her for the father who left. Just like my own mother blamed me.

I sat in my car and cried. I was shaking by the time I reached work.

I couldn’t concentrate at work. Even when Nancy called me a psycho, I kept smiling at her while she cursed me. I didn’t feel hurt by her insults. I was only thinking about how to help the poor girl.

After work, while driving home, I saw a small figure sitting a little farther down the road leading to my estate gate, sobbing openly.

Everywhere was dark and lonely. At first, I wanted to ignore her and drive off, but I took a second look — it was the poor child.

I quickly got out of my car and sat with her. Between sobs, she told me she was hungry. I ran to my car and brought out snacks.

Her eyes lit up, so I invited her in with the promise of more food. She followed me to my car, and I drove her to my house.

After eating, she wanted to leave, but I wouldn’t let her. I was going to save her from her bad mother, so I drugged her drink and she fell asleep.

The next day, she woke up crying and screaming. I couldn’t understand why. I was trying to help her.

Do you prefer your wicked mother to my kindness?

I locked her in the spare room and tied her up after forcing her to eat. I planned to return during my break to take her to the bathroom and feed her again, whether she liked it or not.

I was super excited at work. Finally, I was doing something good for someone.

I couldn’t wait to tell my mummy and prove her wrong. She always said I was good for nothing and would amount to nothing good like my father, but now I’m a superhero to a poor child.

I drove home early and untied her so she can use the bathroom, instead the ungrateful spoilt brat pounced on me and tried to escape

I overpowered her easily, poor malnourished child. I covered her mouth to stop her from screaming. After a few minutes, she stopped fighting and stayed still.

I laid her on the bed and tried to force-feed her, but she wouldn’t even open her eyes or move. She's not hungry, so I bind her mouth and her hands and leave.

I have to punish her so she won't fight me again, so I stay away from my house for two days. This will teach her not to reject my food again

Driving into the estate, I see her mother crying and being comforted by other women. I can already guess why she's shedding crocodile tears publicly

I park and walk closer and overhear the neighbors talking about how a child saw the girl following a man into his car and driving away

I smile and get back into my car. I can't wait to tell the poor child everything her mother is doing to seek attention. As soon as I enter the house a strong smell hits me

I open the door to her room, she's still lying exactly as I left her and smelling. I have to bathe her but I'll feed her first, so I open her mouth and force the food down, it doesn't work.

Her body is cold and stiff, maybe she misses her mother that's why she's not talking, eating or moving again.

Alright, I'll bring her mother next and reunite them so she'll be happy and maybe start eating again since that's what she wants

I get up and take her to the bathroom and wash her cold and stiff body just like I washed my mother's own after she called me a monster and I covered her mouth, and she too stopped talking and moving and started smelling

It’s time I showed her to my mother in the other room, where I have kept her hidden all these years. Maybe if my mother sees her, she’ll open her eyes again, start talking, and maybe even eat so she won’t look like a skeleton.

It will have to be tomorrow. I’m tired from carrying, bathing, and feeding people who wouldn’t do anything for themselves.

Maybe I’ll help Nancy too. God knows the trauma she went through to be so hostile and mean to me and others.

I can’t wait to save everyone.

The Psych0

Ajebo Writer

©️Kingdavid Chinaeke Ofunne

Ajebo Writer

21/12/2025

20/12/2025

18/12/2025

16/12/2025

15/12/2025

14/12/2025

12/12/2025

10/12/2025

09/12/2025

08/12/2025

Endereço

Telefone

Website

Notificações

Entre Em Contato Com O Negócio

Atalhos

Compartilhar

Categoria

True African Writer