Tag Archives: blame game

The blame game

Toyin opened the door of her room and the sight before her shocked her. She felt like she had been hit by a thunderbolt. Her eyes grew big and she opened her mouth to scream but no sound came out. Chike held his little member with one hand and stroke it like a pro while he caressed Chinwe’s bust with the other. He parted Chinwe’s legs and moved closer to her. A sharp pain spread across Toyin’s chest and she found her voice. She screamed and collapsed on the floor.

Chike and Chinwe were startled by the scream and looked towards the door. They had been so engrossed in their act that they had forgotten to lock the door. Chinwe stood up and got dressed in a hurry while Chike pulled up his boxers. They ran towards Toyin who was still unconscious and began to shake her.

“Bring water quick.” Chinwe commanded.

Chike ran to the bathroom and came back with a bowl of water. He stood before the two ladies as he put his hand on his head in lamentation. He ran to get a piece of paper and began to fan Toyin with it.

Chinwe rubbed Toyin’s face with water and she opened her eyes. Toyin looked at them and burst into tears.


“It’s important to discuss sex education with your kids.” Omolade said.

“Abeg, I don’t want to introduce my kids to what they shouldn’t know.” Toyin replied.

“Would you prefer they learn about it from outsiders. You need to let them hear it from you.”

“My mother never taught me anything on sex education and I turned out well. I don’t believe in exposing them. Chike is nine and Chinwe is twelve and you want me to start telling them what adults do.”

“I didn’t say you should tell them. I said educate them on what they need to know about their bodies; you know things like puberty and how to be conscious of sex predators.”

Wo o, Omolade, change the topic. Sex education is not happening in my house. If my mum had taught me, I would have been curious and eager to experiment. My kids are still too young to start putting ideas in their heads. So let sleeping dogs lie, abeg.”

Omolade shrugged.


As tears streamed down Toyin’s cheeks, she remembered the discussion with Omolade like it had happened yesterday. Two months ago, Omolade’s maid had told her six year old son, Jola to caress her bust. Jola had refused and told the maid that his mother asked him never to touch any lady there. Jola reported to his mother immediately she came back from work and that had ended the maid’s stay in Omolade’s house. Omolade had praised Jola and told him she was proud of him for speaking up and encouraged him to never keep quiet on sexual issues.

Omolade and Toyin had discussed about it the next day at work and Toyin had been adamant on not educating her kids.



“Where did you learn about….ermm…about…” Toyin stammered unable to complete her sentence as she wiped her cheeks.

Chike and Chinwe bowed their heads as they stood before their mother.

“About sex?” Chike asked without looking up.

Toyin took a deep breath. Her nine year old son wasn’t even ashamed to talk about it.

“Ehn…yes, about that.” She asked.

“From daddy’s phone.” Chinwe answered.

“What?” Toyin shouted.

“We saw the videos on daddy’s phone.” Chike said.

“Jesus! Emeka has killed me.” Toyin put her hands on her head as she burst into fresh tears.

“Is this your first time?”

Chinwe and Chike shook their heads.

“Ah…ah, mogbe! How many times have you done this?”

Toyin looked at her son as he counted six on his fingers. Toyin hit her hand on the bed and screamed in anguish.

What was she supposed to do? She was confused. She couldn’t talk to Omolade. She would say “but I told you”. She was also wary of exposing her irresponsible husband.

Her kids needed to see a doctor but right now, she wasn’t sure if she could bear to take them to a therapist. How much damage had been done to their minds? As she thought about it, her heart broke.

As she dismissed her kids to their rooms, she refused to take the blame. As far as she was concerned, Emeka was the culprit.

Who is to blame? Emeka or Toyin?

Please share your thoughts below.


Photo Credit: https://www.corporatecommunicationexperts.com.au

When the sun shines

The sun beat hard and we felt the heat in the air-conditioned vehicle. It seemed the sun was intent on unleashing on the occupants of the earth. The air-conditioner had little effect even though it was working at the lowest temperature. I wiped my brow and looked at my kids. I felt sorry for them but we were better off this way than with the air-conditioner switched off and the windows rolled down. The heat outside could be better imagined than felt.

As we were about to descend a slope, the car in front of me danced backwards trying to maneuver the edge of the slope. It was a red saloon car. I am very poor at brand of cars, so I would leave the brand to your imagination. Three men were seated at the back while the driver and a passenger sat in front. The car got stuck and its tyres rolled in the sand whipping up dust. I backed up a bit as I realized the car would need to do same and re-maneuver its way.

Why don’t the guys at the back just get out of the car so it makes it easier for the driver to maneuver the edge of the slope; I thought.

I stood still as there was no other way around unless I faced oncoming vehicles. I decided to wait it out till they got their act together. Besides, I wasn’t in a hurry. I moved back again to free up more space for the car. The car started to reverse and I waited for the driver to re-maneuver his tyres. Instead, the driver kept on reversing without looking backwards. I pressed on the horn continuously until it happened like lightning.

When the sun shines

I thought I was watching a movie where I happened to be the main actor. My jaw dropped as I saw glass shatter. The car had backed up till it hit my car. I was driving a four runner which had protective metal guard rails. The heat of the sun coupled with the force with which the car hit the metal guard rails caused the rear windshield to shatter into little pieces. The three men seated at the back seat looked at me. They got down from the car and it had a free ride down the slope. So what were they thinking before? I thought as I rolled my eyes.

I drove down the slope and the three guys were by my side in a jiffy. “Where do you think you are going?” One of them asked. “Excuse me!” I responded.

“Can’t you see what you have done to our car?”

“What I did to your car?” I asked in astonishment. “I am sure everyone who witnessed the accident is aware that you reversed into my car”.

“You can’t go away. You have to pay for it”. Another said.

I looked at them like they are speaking in another language. “Pay for what?” I asked. “I should be asking you to pay if my lights are broken”.

At this point, other drivers who witnessed the accident, got down from their vehicles to talk to the guys harassing me. “Leave her alone”. One shouted. “She kept on pressing her horn”. Another said. “How person go dey reverse and he no go look back?” “And all of you siddon for back, una no fit get down”. “Why all of you comot when the glass don break?” “Which driving school una go sef”. Different voices scolding the men.

The driver who was all along checking the extent of the damage to his car came to meet me. I waited expecting him to join his friends in the blame game. “I’m sorry madam for the harassment. You can go”. He said. “I am sorry about your vehicle”. I responded and drove off.

Photo Credit: http://www.jaguar-swansea.co.uk