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

Ajebo Writer, Ikeja, Lagos (2025)

31/10/2025

MY MOTHER-IN-LAW IS A WITCH

My wife comes from a very traditional family, so I wasn’t shocked when my mother-in-law casually asked when we’d be circumcising our newborn daughter.

I expected my wife to immediately reject such diabolical idea. Instead, she smiled and said she’d “talk to me about it.”

“Talk to me bawo?” I snapped. Right there, I told her mother that over my dead body would anyone lay a blade on my baby girl.

That statement started a war. My mother-in-law stopped speaking to me. If I greet her she won’t respond so I stopped greeting her.

My wife begged me to apologize, saying her mom was elderly and meant no harm. But I refused — until her father, siblings, and even my own parents got involved. Everyone was asking the same thing: ‘Do you want to beat your mother-in-law?’

To make peace, I apologized. That’s when Mama said, “In our village, we circumcise our girls, that’s why they remain pure. That’s why you met your wife a virgin and all her sisters got married as virgins too.”

She didn’t know how much that statement broke me. Because what she called purity, my wife lives as pain.

I wish my wife wasn’t a virgin. I wish I knew she was circumcised before we got married. I love her but I swear I wouldn’t have married her

Since our marriage, Intimacy between us has been a nightmare — constant pain, bleeding, numbness. She was circumcised as a child, and it has scarred every part of her womanhood.

It doesn’t matter how long I finger or svck my wife, sometimes she’s just d3ad down there. It’s not even appealing to the eyes to look. Whenever I see her pvssy, I lose er****on. I have to pretend and imagine my ex’es to stay erect.

Three months later, Mama was still with us for omugwo. One day we left the house for a movie date — just a few hours out cos we haven’t really gone out since our baby was born.

When we returned, my baby was running a high temperature. Something felt off so I asked mama hope all is well this one baby is running temperature. She got defensive and said why won’t all be well? that it’s just small cold cos we’re always using AC

The next morning, as my wife and her mother bathed our daughter, I walked in — and my world stopped.

Our baby had been circumcised.

I froze. I couldn’t breathe. I was shaking, tears were dropping from my eyes. I felt something inside me shatter.

Mama was laughing and said it was “normal.” She said, “Your daughter won’t spoil. All the girls in our family are pure women. She herself was circumcised, her mother too and all her daughters and their daughters will be too”

That day changed everything.
It broke my trust, my peace, and my heart.

I told my wife to dress my baby up so we can take her to the hospital and as we were about to leave, mama held me, I pushed her, she held on tight, saying nothing is wrong.

Out of anger I punched her. My wife screamed and I pushed her into the car with our baby and drove to the hospital.

My daughter was admitted and my wife stayed with her. I came back with police and met my father-in-law, my wife’s brothers and sisters. Thank God the police was with me cos apparently they came to fight me

I arrested all of them. It took my own parents almost kneeling and crying for me to release them.

Months passed, but I could never forgive her for what she did to my child, and the trauma she forced on my wife.

One year later my wife took in again. I was overjoyed. We went for scan and it showed it was a girl.

When mama came again to visit us, I overheard her planning with my wife to “make arrangements” once the baby was born and to do it quickly before I found out.

That was the day I decided: never again.
No one will ever hurt my children in the name of culture and tradition

Mama only eats wheat because she has diabetes. She’s the only that eats it. Every other person eats semo or eba. I always buy whenever she visits. So, the night before she was to leave, I injected sniper inside the pack, shook it & kept it inside her bag

Two days later mama was rushed to the hospital. By the time we got there she was on oxygen. When my wife and I entered and saw her, my wife burst into tears and stepped out with our daughter leaving just me and her mom

I acted quickly. I removed the oxygen, placed the pill0w ova her face. She struggled weakly for what seemed like an eternity but it was just a minute or so and then she stopped. I quickly removed the pillow and put the oxygen back

When my wife returned, I held her and then prayed for mama for a second then led her out. We got the call before we got home that she passed shortly after we left.

Till today nobody knows what I did, and I don’t feel guilty.

I share this story because some traditions are not sacred — they are evil.
Female Ge***al Mutilation
(FGM) is not purity. It’s pain. It’s trauma. It destroys marriages, intimacy, and lives.

A real man protects his own — even from “tradition, religion or their family.”

Today, I have no regrets and now I can sleep peacefully knowing I avenged my first daughter and protected the second from that monster, that witch who birthed my wife.

Say NO to Female Ge***al Mutilation or one day a real man like me will come for you too!

The End

Ajebo Writer

©️Kingdavid Chinaeke Ofunne

30/10/2025

(Inspired by a true story)

I loved her. God knows I did.

She was everything I ever prayed for in a woman. She never argued, never nagged, never questioned my movements. The kind of woman that made me want to do better.

I made sure she never lacked anything. Even when she didn’t ask, I sent her money. I’d surprise her with gifts, flowers, food…anything that could make her smile.
She trusted me completely, and that trust was something I wore like a crown.

Until Anita moved in.

She was my new neighbor… moved into the next flat. Anita was loud, funny, unpredictable. The total opposite of my girlfriend. She’s the kind of woman who’d insult you one minute and make you laugh the next.

Then we started talking. Just small talk at first as friends, then longer, personal conversations.

She’d drop by my place after work to gist. Sometimes she’d cook, and we’d eat together while watching movies. It became routine… a dangerous one.

At first, I convinced myself it was just friendship. But soon she was coming every evening, until one night she asked if she could stay over. I should have said no, but I didn’t.

That night, everything fell apart. We knacked. It was a deep, wild, and mind-blowing f**k. From that moment, the dynamics of our friendship changed.

She started giving my girlfriend attitude — and worse, when my babe was around, that’s when she’d want to come and borrow salt or Maggi, which I knew she had in surplus.

Thank God for the kind of babe I had. Very innocent. She still didn’t suspect anything. I should have stopped sleeping with Anita, but mehn, she could svck and ride, so we kept f**king.

Until that weekend. My babe had told me earlier in the week that she was traveling, so when I heard the knock that evening, I didn’t even bother putting on a shirt.
When I opened the door, my heart stopped.

It was her… my girlfriend.

Her face lit up for a second until she saw mine.

“Babe… what’s wrong?” she asked, scanning me from head to toe like she was trying to understand why I looked so guilty.

And before I could say anything, before I could come up with a lie, Anita, who was wearing a gown just seconds before I opened the door, appeared, wearing nothing but a bra and my boxers.

“Baby, who’s that at the door?” she asked with a wicked smile.

Everything stopped.

Then she hissed and walked back in slowly.

My girlfriend just stood there… eyes wide, lips trembling, like she wanted to say something but couldn’t. She didn’t scream, didn’t even cry. She just looked at me long enough for me to feel every ounce of shame

And me? I just stood there too… shamelessly. When I finally spoke, the words were stupid.
“You made me do this. You never try new things. Never want to go out. Always serious. No spark, no adventure. Just boring love.”
I said it out loud, convincing myself it was her fault.

Then she turned around and started walking away.

I didn’t stop her. I didn’t chase her.
I just stood there like a fool, watching her go. Each step she took away from me felt like a nail being driven deeper into my chest.

When I closed the door, the silence was heavier than guilt. Anita was talking, but I couldn’t hear her. I just kept seeing my girlfriend’s face… that look of betrayal mixed with disbelief.

And in that moment, I realized something no man ever admits…
We don’t cheat because it’s our nature.
We cheat because we’re weak.
Because we mistake peace for boredom, and chaos for excitement.

Now, sometimes I look at myself in the mirror and wonder what kind of man ruins the best thing he ever had and still finds a way to justify it.

I realize it was easier to blame her than face the truth… that I was weak.

I’m not a bad guy.
I’m just weak.

The End

Ajebo Writer

©️Kingdavid Chinaeke Ofunne

27/10/2025

A friend posted on her WhatsApp status that she's feeling sad and frustrated with everything around her then put a crying emoji

Out of compassion, I went and asked her what the problem is

Few minutes later I checked and realized she read and ignored

I placed a call across but she didn't answer

So, I left it at that

An hour later I was just scrolling through my WhatsApp status when I saw that she had uploaded more status

Lo and behold

She posted a screenshot of all the people that asked her what the problem is, and if she's okay

Including me!!!

I was shocked

And then she wrote on the status, "thanks so much guys for your love and care, I really appreciate."

I was pained that she didn't reply privately but had to chase clout like this but what even pained me more was the fact that she replied some of the people that asked her if she's okay but ignored mine.

I quickly went and deleted my message to her

Immediately she replied me asking why I deleted my chat, and if I don't care about her feelings?

I ignored her

Instead, I took a screenshot and posted on my WhatsApp status

Then I captioned it

"I don't waste time on clout chasers."

Two can play the game

The End

Ajebo Writer

©️Kingdavid Chinaeke Ofunne

26/10/2025

My wife came home one evening talking about a colleague’s friend who had just lost her husband.

According to her, the man had an accident, and when they got to the hospital, his wife couldn’t use his phone to contact anyone because she didn’t know the password. The man died before help could come.

As she narrated it, I already knew where the conversation was heading.
It was a trap.

We’ve been married for two years now, and from the beginning, she has always preached that “a real couple should have no secrets.”

It started with us having a joint account—her idea. Then came knowing each other’s salaries, which I reluctantly agreed to. But when she brought up sharing phone passwords, I drew the line.

I told her, “We can be one and still have some personal space. Privacy is not the same as secrecy.”
But she didn’t see it that way. To her, withholding a password meant I had something to hide.

That night, she dropped her phone on the table and said,
“Here, this is mine. You can open it anytime you want. That’s what love looks like.”

I smiled and said, “Love isn’t measured by passwords. If you want assurance, open your eyes and see love in how I provide, protect, and care for you and the kids. That’s proof of love. My phone won’t prove anything new.”

She got angry. “It’s men like you that die and leave their wives helpless because she doesn’t have your phone password. God forbid I’ll ever be that woman!”

I laughed softly. “Are you praying for me to have an accident? Don’t worry, If anything happens to me, your phone will still work perfectly. You can use it to call for help.”

She didn’t find it funny.
She folded her arms and said, “You’re cheating. That’s why you’re afraid to give me access.”
I asked, “And if I’m not cheating?”
“Then prove it,” she fired back.
“By giving you my password?”
“Yes. If you love me and I’m the only one you love, open your phone and hand it to me.”

I looked at her for a long moment, and all I could think of was how trust had become something she wanted to verify instead of something she chose to believe.

Since that day, there’s been a quiet tension between us.
She still brings up stories about “transparent couples,” and I still stand my ground.
To her, I’m hiding something.
To me, she’s trying to control everything.

Sometimes I wonder if love these days now needs evidence—screenshots, passwords, and access—before it’s considered real.
Maybe one day she’ll understand that trust isn’t built by opening phones.
It’s built by locking hearts.

The End

Ajebo Writer

©️Kingdavid Chinaeke Ofunne

24/10/2025

I was at work when my wife called.

I picked up, and she said she just wanted to know how I was doing.

I paused. My wife? Checking up on me? I was surprised. My wife never calls to just check in on me. It’s either gas has finished, DSTV sub has expired or I should buy milk and Milo on my way back

So I became suspicious.

Still, I replied, “I’m fine, just a bit stressed.”

Then she said, “Okay. I love you.”

😳 Ah! I love you ke?

At that point, I knew she was up to something. My guard went up immediately.

I didn’t reply, and she didn’t hang up. She repeated it again.

“Honey, I said I love you.”

I said, “Okay. Thank you.”

“What is okay thank you? Is that how people reply to ‘I love you’?” she asked.

“Woman, what do you want?”

She said, “Ah! What do you mean what do I want? I just called to say I love you.”

“Okay nah, I’ve heard you. Thank you.”

She hissed and hung up.

A few hours later, I got home. Before I could even drop my bag, she was already shouting.

“You made me lose 100k!”

“Lose 100k ke? When? How nau?”

She said she was with one guy called Asherkine — a popular content creator — and he was doing a challenge.

The task was simple:
Call your spouse, tell them ‘I love you,’ and if they say it back, you win ₦100,000.

She said, “Very simple task. Ordinary ‘I love you too’—and we’d have won 100k! But no, you had to say ‘Okay, thank you.’”

Now she said the video will go viral and her friends will laugh at her because she’s always posting our lovey-dovey pictures on WhatsApp.

Then she added, “You made me lose 100k and you must give me back!”

I got upset. “So, are you telling me you love me because of 100k, or you love me because you love me?”

She said I was trying to twist it. That if anyone should be angry, it’s her.
That I disgraced her nationally today.

“Disgrace you nationally ke?” I asked. “Would you blame me? I’ve been married to you for six years, and I can’t remember the last time you said you love me without an agenda.”

Next thing she started crying.
She said, “You don’t love me anymore. Maybe you’re telling someone else ‘I love you,’ because which husband says ‘Okay’ when his wife says ‘I love you’?”

After a while, I now calm down and apologized. I said, “I’m sorry, love. I was just having a bad day. I love you too.”

She replied, “Oh really? You’ve been having a bad day for years abi?”

I tried to hug and kiss her. She shifted.
She said, “If you love me, prove it.” Then she walked away, leaving me standing there. I just knew no show for me in ‘za oda room’ that night

That night, while she was sleeping, I decided to prove it.

I messaged on Instagram — the best plug my friend told me about for classy women’s outfits for all occasions

You see my wife, she loves fashion more than food. Her hobby is attending one owambe or another, fully dressed to slay.

So I ordered three stunning designer ready-to-wear dresses from House of Kate, and they delivered fast.
(You can also DM them on WhatsApp 👉 +234 816 778 1985 — they deliver anywhere in Nigeria.)

When I got home from work with the clothes, her eyes lit up instantly.

“Do you believe me now that I love you?” I asked.

She smiled. “Not completely.”

I sighed. “Ah! What again?”

She said, “Where’s my ₦100k?”

Women

⸻
DM on Instagram or WhatsApp +234 816 778 1985
for stunning ready-to-wear outfits that melt hearts and end arguments.
They deliver nationwide and worldwide.

The End

Ajebo Writer

©️Kingdavid Chinaeke Ofunne

23/10/2025

He walked away from privilege, from politics, from everything his last name represented.
He was tired of the stares, the fake respect, and the doors that opened too easily just because of who he was.

He wanted to build a life that was truly his — where love wasn’t a transaction, and success wasn’t inherited.

He knew he wasn’t gonna find that in Nigeria so he stopped dating home grown and home based and when he travelled out for his masters, he finally met the one!

Fatima…Beautiful, Intelligent, Fierce!
The kind of woman whose silence carried strength and whose laughter could end wars.

Ironically, she too had changed her last name.
Born into a powerful Muslim family, she’d grown tired of living under the weight of religion and tradition.
She wanted freedom, especially from the privilege her family enjoyed and the cage it represented and she found it in Billy.

She broke her family’s rules.
He broke his bloodline’s expectations.
Together, they built a love born from rebellion

Until the day they decided to go home.

Billy followed her home and at her family’s mansion in Abuja, over dinner, the conversation turned toward lineage.
And that’s when Billy’s world stopped as he found out a shocking truth about her background

Fatima’s great-grandfather was once the former Head of State of Nigeria and was rumored to have been unalived by Apple although the truth was not as grandeur as the claim

He looked on, unmoving while his eyes turned red & his pulse raced

“Billy, I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“I just wanted to be loved for me… not for my family’s name. Most people only want to date me because they believe my great-grandfather stole a fortune. Please, forgive me.”

But Billy couldn’t hear her.
It was like history had crawled out of the grave to mock him.
He left immediately. No goodbye, no explanation. Just ghosted her.

Finally after several weeks of searching, desperate and heartbroken, Fatima traced him to his family home.
His mother answered the door.

“It’s not you, Fatima,” the woman said softly, her voice trembling.
“It’s your blood. Your great-grandfather sent a letter bomb that ki||ed Billy’s great-grandfather. That one act destroyed this family. Every man born since was raised to hate yours.”

Fatima’s knees gave way.

“I’m sorry,” the mother continued, “but if his brothers come home and find you here, you might not make it out.”

That was the day Fatima ran — tears staining her face, her heart heavy with the cruel irony of it all.

Both of them had changed their names to escape the past… somehow it still found a way to ruin them

The End

Ajebo Writer

©️Kingdavid Chinaeke Ofunne

21/10/2025

I wasn’t even supposed to see the video, honestly.
I was just scrolling through my feed, minding my own business — laughing at skits and flirting with babes when my girlfriend’s face popped up.

She was laughing with two of her friends, doing one of those trending TikTok challenges.
The caption read:
“Who’s most likely to poison a cheating boyfriend?”

Before I could even blink, all of them pointed at her.
Even she pointed at herself — proudly.
And they were all laughing like it was the funniest thing ever.

But me? I just froze. Instead my chest tightened because deep down… I didn’t find it funny at all.

At first, I told myself, “Guy relax, it’s TikTok. Everything is just content.”
But later that night, while I was trying to sleep, I kept hearing their laughter echoing in my head like three witches

Why did everyone point at her? Why did she point at herself?

I couldn’t sleep that night so very early the next day, I asked her about it.
She laughed and said, “Babe, it was just for content. We planned it before recording. Don’t take it seriously… or are you cheating on me?”

Omo. I no even fit answer.
Because this kind of question is a trap.
I just smiled and changed topic.

But since that day, something changed. I suddenly catch myself questioning and observing things I never used to question.

Whenever she cooks, she suddenly says she’s not hungry.
If she buys me food, she’ll always want to feed me herself but won’t let me feed her.
Even yogurt that we used to share, she now pours it in a cup inside the kitchen and brings it out

And recently, I’ve been getting small-small headaches and stomach pains.
Maybe it’s stress… or maybe it’s vitamin P — poison.

Now my spirit is telling me two things:
One, to forget about it. It’s not that deep.

And two, what if she knows? What if she has realized that she’s not even the side chic but probably number 5 or 6. The one I call when I’m broke because she’s cheap.

What if she is already taking revenge quietly by poisoning me

See ehn, sometimes the things people laugh about tell you who they really are.
And once you see it… you can’t unsee it.

So call me paranoid if you want but I think it’s time I repent and stay faithful to my main girlfriend and leave all these TikTok girls alone

The End

Ajebo Writer

©️Kingdavid Chinaeke Ofunne

20/10/2025

I woke up with a start!

The night was silent and dark. The only sound that pierced the stillness was the howling wind, rustling the trees and their branches.

Then I heard it again… that sound.

I jumped out of bed and hurried out of the room. Standing just outside the door, I listened carefully.

Yes… it was definitely the sound of someone sobbing.

Another nightmare.

I pushed the door open and walked in.
“It’s okay, love. It’s just another nightmare. Mummy’s here,” I whispered, hugging and soothing my child.

Soon, her breathing steadied, and I could hear the soft rhythm of her snores. I stood up quietly and tiptoed out, closing the door behind me.

As I walked back to my room, a voice startled me.
“Where are you coming from, love?” my husband asked.

“From our child’s room. I think she had a nightmare again,” I replied.

The look on his face froze me. His skin was pale, almost drained of blood or perhaps just the moonlight casting an eerie glow, but his eyes looked ghostly.

His eyes widened in anger, or was it fear, as he replied.

"You've got to stop this honey, stop doing this to us." He whispered, grinding his teeth to keep from shouting, a habit from his childhood.

The sound was laced with anger, fear, and pain.

"Stop doing what?" I asked, confused and trembling

“There’s no she. We don’t have a daughter. We never did.” He reached for my hand, gripping it hard.

“What? Don’t say that!” I pulled away sharply, hurt and frightened. “Of course we do! Who… who did I just hug and put to bed?” I stammered.

Just then, the door creaked open. Two thin, bony hands appeared around the edge.

From the shadows, something began to step forward.

I couldn’t see clearly, but I could hear the soft, steady footsteps. My eyes widened, trying to adjust to the dim light — and then I saw it.

Standing there, in a white, flowing gown that shimmered under the moonlight, was my baby.

“Mummy, I’m scared. I can’t sleep.”

“Nooooooooo!!!”

My husband screamed as he looked at the figure, his child… standing motionless in the middle of the room. It was a reflection that had haunted him for years, something he feared and despised more than anything else.

He leapt from the king-sized bed and grabbed his gun.

I dropped to my knees. “Please! Please, stop! Put the gun down!” I begged, trying to hold him.

“We do not have a daughter! We do not have a daughter!” he shouted, his voice cracking. “We have a son, a boy, and no son of mine will ever, ever become a girl or act like one! Stop this madness! Stop letting him think he’s a girl or I’ll k!ll him, and myself!”

He turned toward our child, fury in his eyes.
“Now, Richard, take that gown off immediately and put on your shorts!”

He pointed the gun at our 13-year-old son — the boy who had begun identifying as a girl since his holiday abroad with my husband’s younger sister.

Tears streamed down my face as I looked at Richard — or Rachel, as she now called herself. And I couldn’t help her.

I couldn’t… because deep down, I knew it was my fault.

Nobody else knew this, but I too preferred women.
Three years ago, he had found me in bed — naked — with his aunt, my husband’s sister.

Since that day… everything changed.

The End

Ajebo Writer

©️Kingdavid Chinaeke Ofunne

19/10/2025

In 2009, on my way back to my lodge from class, I spotted a wallet lying in the middle of the road. It was stuffed with cash, about 30k &also had ATM cards, ID cards, an international passport, and, of all things, five condoms.

I found a number on one of the complimentary cards and called the owner.

I had a test the next day, so I asked him if he wanted it that evening, or I could leave it at the school’s security post. It was already late & I wasn’t sure what my schedule would be like in the morning

He begged me not to leave it with security, for security reasons” (which made me laugh). He then begged that I bring it to him very early in the morning before my 7am test.

His deep baritone voice made him sound like a “big man or politician,” maybe this is how God wants to bless me.

I became excited. I asked my roommate to borrow me money for transport because from his description it would take about 500 naira to get to his place and back.

By 6am, I was already on my way. I arrived at the place at 6:20am, and discovered it was a hotel. I knocked on the door, and waited for what felt like forever.

Finally, a young, beautiful half naked girl, dressed in a see-through pink gown that left nothing to the imagination, opened the door. “Room service?” she asked.

Room service ke? “No, I’m here to see the owner of the room,” I replied while looking at her nipus

Her face changed immediately, she became rude and asked if I knew what time it was.

I mumbled something unintelligible as I was still distracted by her standing brezz and large nipu. I even noticed it was pierced.

She hissed and went back inside.

About 20 minutes later, a pot-bellied man appeared at the door, dressed in only his boxers. He looked me up and down like I was a thief and asked if I was sure the money was still complete.

I was confused. Would I steal ur money & then return ur wallet? I told him I hadn’t touched anything except the complimentary card

Then he asked me why I didn’t bring it yesterday & before I could speak, he said I should wait for him to count the money to be sure it’s complete

I just stood there thinking, “Oga, count fast and give me my reward.”

After counting the cash, he confirmed it was all there, muttered a quick “thank you,” and slammed the door so hard I almost got knocked over by the breeze.

Shock is an understatement. I was flabbergasted. I stood there, staring at the closed door, before knocking again.

“Yes, what is it now!?” he barked as he opened the door, clearly irritated. His preeq was fully erect, pushing against the boxers. It was a very small preeq for a very large man

“Sir, I don’t have transport fare

He looked at me for a few seconds, then burst out laughing. “I too don’t have money. Your girls,” he gestured inside with his head, “have finished both my money and my stamina.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. “But sir, I have a test this morning…” I began, only for him to cut me off with, “Then you better start trekking so you don’t miss it, because I have no money for you.”

With that, he shut the door again, leaving me standing there like a fool. I had no choice but to turn around and head back to school, using the little change I had borrowed from my roommate for transport.

I got to class 30 minutes past 7 and the useless lecturer refused to let me inside to take the test, so I missed the test.

Cash reward I no see, Test I no write!

Thank God I stole the 4 condoms from the 5 I saw in the wallet. That was my only consolation.

Baba wherever you are, I hope she gives you STD. Bascard!

The End

Ajebo Writer

©️Kingdavid Chinaeke Ofunne

18/10/2025

My wife returned from her weekend friend's hangout with a massive frown on her face

As soon as I opened the gate, she drove in with a fury, almost knocking me down in the process. I knew something was off immediately.

"What is it, you want to make yourself a widow?" I asked

"God forbid, you will never die in Jesus name. Whose money will I be spending if anything happens to you."

When we got inside, she sat me down and told me she was no longer friends with Lucy, her bestie

“She’s an enemy now,” my wife said.
“Don’t greet her. Don’t answer her greeting. Don’t even wave. It’ll be somehow if my husband is still friendly with my enemy.”

I nodded. I didn’t argue. I just wanted peace.

The next day, while walking home, I saw Lucy carrying a big bag that looked heavy. The moment she saw me, she smiled and greeted. Out of reflex, I smiled back and offered to help her.

As soon as I lifted the bag, my village people went to work. My wife drove past that exact moment.

Lucy looked at me and smiled that “you’re in trouble” smile.
I wanted to drop the bag and disappear, but it was too late. I walked her to her house anyway.

When I got home, my wife was already in the living room waiting for me

“Gentleman o! Good neighbor! Our husband. Welcome o,” she said, clapping her hands.

That night and two nights after, I didn’t sleep, eat or drink water well because my wife kept reminding me about how I’m on the side of her enemy.

The next weekend, we had a deal. Whoever went to the market, the other person would cook. I chose to go to the market because I wanted to play my PES5 in peace, not cook.

She gave me the list and I left.

At the market, guess who I met again?
Lucy, and this time with her husband. She helped me find everything on the list, even negotiated prices, and I came home with extra change.

I proudly gave my wife the items and the balance. She was shocked and impressed because she knows me I don’t know how to negotiate prices
“How? Tell me the truth,” she said.

And that’s how my village people whispered to me to be honest. So, I decided to confess. So, I told her.

Long story short, I ended up cooking the food myself.
And again, I didn’t sleep well for two nights.

She shouted, screamed, and asked if I had something going on with Lucy.
I apologized and promised never to talk to her again just for peace to reign.

Two days later, I came back from work and as soon as I entered the house, I saw my wife and Lucy laughing and giggling like two teenagers on the couch

I froze and watched them with my mouth open.

My wife stood up, hugged me, collected my bag, and went right back to join her “enemy.” Lucy smiled and greeted me, and the two of them continued talking like secondary school girls, ignoring me completely

After Lucy left, my wife was walking around like nothing happened. So, I asked, “What was that?” She said, “Oh, we’ve settled. That’s how friends are — we fight, we settle. Didn’t you want us to settle?“

I just nodded. Thank God I learned early enough not to get involved in women’s problems.

The End

Ajebo Writer

©️Kingdavid Chinaeke Ofunne

Ajebo Writer

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