I hope you enjoyed the previous pathetic story, Sextape from the constable of Nkeiru Cosmos. This is another heart-touching story from her bosom
The story of my life is a lesson to mothers of our days. The title of my story would have been better if it was “The Carelessness Of My Mother”, but I chose this title for some reasons.
My mum told me to stop sleeping in her room since I was two years old neither will I sleep in the children’s room but my father’s room. At a time, everyone started calling me the wife of my father, “iyawo baba e”. I grew up to understand what love was all about because my father showed me unreserved love. Sometimes I wouldn’t sleep except I slept on my father’s chest; his chest became my comfort and bed. My father could not withstand anyone beating me, not even my mother. The major quarrels I witnessed between my father and my mother were because my mother beat me and my father was not happy about it. There were times they kept malice for days just because of me.
My father was a successful engineer, a tall handsome man with charming voice. He used to sing in the choir. He was such a nice man that all and sundry will love to be with because he was also caring. He was tender-hearted and jovial. He gives me virtually everything I had ever wanted: including those that were detrimental to my growth as a girl child. There were many things he bought for me without my mother’s knowledge. He had packets of chocolate under his bed that my mother wasn’t aware of for many years. He served me two or three chocolate every night before sleep.
I loved playing with my father’s beards because they were well laid around his jaw. I sat on his lap and played with his beards anytime I was angry; it had a way of pacifying my anger. When I turned six, I realized that anytime I sat on my father’s laps he always had erection. As a child, I never knew what erection was or what it meant because we never had a brother neither did anybody tell us anything about erection. I loved it when I see his manhood struggling around his boxers. Then I began to play with his manhood anytime I see it rise. My father loved it when I played with it but he never allow me do it whenever my mother was around. My father’s manhood became my toy and any day I didn’t play with it, he reminded me, “Nike, you’ve not played with daddy’s toy”. When he noticed my mother may get to know one day, we restricted the toy play only to bedtime.
Fast forwarding, when I became ten, my father always instructed me to suck his manhood until he ejaculated. That continued until I was thirteen. It became an everyday affair, no suking, no chocolate. I became so addicted and inseparable to my father. Nobody ever educated me that what I was doing with my father was wrong. He kept assuring me of his love towards me. Of course, I had no doubt because he showed it. Anytime my father traveled, I seldom became sick all through and get well as soon as he arrived. My love for my father was exceptional. He could tolerate my excesses to a fault. My father was a good man I knew.
My father became my magical being; I almost could not do without him. I trusted him so much because he never hurt me. He tried to keep tears from dropping from my eyes. He was the friend I knew; he was close and listening. He was something different from my mother who was harsh, inconsiderate, unloving and hot-tempered. I wasn’t worried about anything because my father was also nice to my siblings alike. Grace and I took after my father in everything but Faith and Christy took after mum. They were unfriendly and difficult.
My bond and intimacy with my father continued until I finished my Junior Secondary School Education and my mother began to nurse the idea of changing my day school to boarding. From the onset, I knew that won’t work because my dad would not part with me neither will I ever want to stay away from dad for such a long time. So, it was going to be one against two. It became a serious battle between dad and mum for a long time. Grandma had to intervene but all to no avail. Our pastor intervened too on several occasions but my dad would not shift grounds. “I will not take any of my daughters to boarding school and allow anyone to initiate them into witchcraft”, my dad had said several times.
My dad was the first to know when I started menstruating. I had menstruated twice before my mum knew. Before mum could teach me what I needed to know about a woman’s circle, my dad already did. Mum’s lecture on womanhood was a revision. Dad already taught me everything I needed to know. My dad got to know a minute after I fell sick. My dad was readily available for us, unlike mum who gave so much time to her career. I would rather confide in my dad than waste my time with mum. She rarely had time to listen to you. If she does, she won’t act until something bad happens.
My mum was a successful banker, an occupation she held with high esteem. Her job meant so much to her because she worked hard to rise to the position she occupied in her bank. Even when mum was sick, she would manage to go to work.
The first lesson I learnt from my mum was; the danger of making your career a priority over your family. She gave her best to her career but little attention to us. Her intention sounded genuine but her mistakes could not justify her intention.
Dad was a nominal Christian but mum was a born again Christian with proofs of right standing with God. Dad still sneaked to smoke even though he was a prominent member of the choir. Mum was a prayer warrior and Sunday school teacher. Her fluent English and good communication skills made her one of the best Sunday school teachers in our church. Everyone liked her class because you will always learn a new vocabulary after her teaching. Dad was not a bad person but he was not as serious with God like mum.
They couldn’t stay in the same room because mum would not let dad have a smooth night with her unending prayers and vigils. Mum was not tolerant, she saw dad as an unbeliever, hence she nagged and yelled at dad almost every day. As I began to grow up, I realized that mum and dad hardly spent time together. Mum was just too busy with office and church work. Dad would have been lonely without us. We became his close confidants while mum was unavailable.
My dad understood my circle so well and he planned for it ahead of time. He bought my pads ahead of my monthly periods without my knowledge. After the first lecture mum gave to me on womanhood, she never did any follow up again. She left me with my fate. I would have got into lots of troubles if not for my dad who was available for me. This was why I couldn’t leave him for boarding school. Who will give me such attention? Who will be as friendly as my dad? Who will understand and tolerate me like him? These and more questions ran through my mind daily.
The journey to my woe started on the 2nd of June when my dad became sick and my mum wasn’t available to take good care of him. As young as I was then, I played the role of a mother and a wife all together. I filled in the vacuum my mum created because of her busy schedules. Three days after, my dad recuperated and bounced back. At this time, our bond for each other had grown beyond daughter and father relationship. On several occasions, I had noticed my dad starring at me lustfully and forgetting himself.
On the 2nd of June, my dad came into my room. I had stopped sleeping in his room because we could no longer justify why I should continue sleeping there, considering my age. He let me move into the other room to avoid suspicion.
“How are you Nike?”, he asked, looking straight into my eyes. I felt an unusual sensat!on all over me when he looked into my eyes. “I am okay dad”, I replied. He sat on my bed and began to massage my hair. Of course, that wasn’t the first time he was doing that. He did it to my other sisters too even in the presence of mum. But the feeling that day was quite different. He left after five minutes but that visit was what broke the camel’s back.
He came back after thirty minutes. “Nike, I hope you are okay?” Dad why are you worried about me? I am okay”. “Alright, come and give daddy a hug”. I moved closer and hugged my dad like other times but daddy seems to have ulterior motive this time from his look. “Nike, do you know how much I love you?”, he asked. “Yes daddy, I know you love me so well, I love you too.” He kissed my forehead and said, “That’s daddy’s baby.” I stopped playing with his manhood when I knew that wasn’t right to do with one’s father. He stopped asking me to suck too because he began to notice I was getting mature and I could let the cat out of the bag someday. But this day, he reminded me of those days. He sang my childhood favourite song to me again. His eyes were changed and this time I was grown enough to know. These eyes were sexy. I had so much confidence in my dad, so I had no fear for anything.
He held me so tightly and began to unbutton my blouse in a way that suggested he wanted to have canal knowledge of me. Before I could say Daddy, he grabbed my two boobs firmly. “Give me this one chance and I will prove to you how much I love you”, my dad begged me as his face was full of pity. I had never argued with or denied my dad anything but this was a cross road for me. How will I give my dad a chance to deflower me? I couldn’t look at my dad’s face as he continued to beg me for sex.
“But why do you want to do this to me daddy?” I asked, as tears began to run down my cheeks. “You are a beautiful girl with irresistible body. I want to do this because I haven’t done it with your mother for a long time. She practically denies me anytime I make advances. I am starved and I know you won’t let daddy to starve forever when you have the answer in between your legs.”
Mum was promoted to the position of a Branch Manager and was transferred to Ibadan to head a new branch. This was what she had worked for all these years. Becoming a Branch Manager was her utmost dream for many years. Mum was so happy with her new position but the transfer did not go well with dad and all of us. She never gave dad opportunity to protest her transfer when she started making out her plans. Within two weeks, mum had contacted an agent in Ibadan through a colleague who got her a two bedroom flat in the outskirts of Ibadan. When mum left for Ibadan I knew it was a journey to marital desolation for dad.
“I don’t want to say anything because you may think I don’t want your progress but leaving your family at this time is not healthy”, my dad protested. “So what should I had done? Resign the job or reject the offer? The position I have laboured for all through the years? This is God’s open door and I can’t afford to throw it away. Instead of you to rejoice with me, you are here talking about family. All our children are all grown and Nike can take care of her sisters well. I will always come home for weekend.” My mum replied as she ordered Faith and Christy to move her things into the waiting van outside. We were surely not going to miss mum because her temporary exit from the house would give us a level of freedom and peace. We would be free from her nagging and troubles.
That night mum left for Ibadan, my dad came into my room like the other times. From his eyes you could see lust and determination to get what he wanted. “Please daddy, don’t do this to me. I thought you said you love me? Why will you be the one to take away my virginity? Please daddy! Please daddy!! Please daddy!!!” All my beggings fell on deaf ears as my dad forced himself into me. It was really painful going through this evil act. He left my room without saying a word to me after.
Mum could not fulfil her promise to come home every weekend. Some months, she only came once and sometimes twice. I became hostile in the house and everyone knew something was wrong but no one among my sisters was mature enough to investigate further.
I perfected my plans to poison my dad but that was not easy. On two occasions, I had planned to put the poison in his food but I always discarded it. Seeing him got me irritated. I wished he could die of accident or one mysterious thing but none of these happened.
For three months, I rarely talked to my dad even though he lived under the same roof with me. All the time mum visited, she never suspected anything because I put up pretentious attitudes that looked like all was well. I would enter my shell again as soon as she returned back to Ibadan.
My dad became depressed because of the happenings around. Nike that used to be his close friend became his archenemy. My sisters started withdrawing from him because they saw me withdrew too. My dad became an addicted drunkard. He started going to club houses just to suppress his depression. I pitied him and talked to him casually. Life returned back to him and he began to pick up again. But our relationship had gone sour. He was buying me different gifts just to pacify me but all that was nothing. My desire to take his life got stronger by the day. I was loosing concentration in school because of what my dad did to me.
On Sunday, our pastor gave a powerful sermon on “forgiveness”. He highlighted seven reasons why forgiveness will do you good than whom you are forgiving. The sermon was so touching that I had no option than to drop my murderous plan. Pastor made an altar call for those who need grace to forgive those who had hurt them. I jumped out and he prayed for us. The prayer was like lifting a heavy rock off my chest. I became light and free. I wished I could die that moment and just go to heaven straight to rest from the trouble of this world. I got home that day and prepared my dad’s favourite food just to communicate my forgiveness to him. “Nike, I am grateful you have forgiven me”. He held my hand as I served him his food to whisper to my ear.
On Monday, my dad bought me a big phone he ordered from the UK. He knew how much I desired to own a phone but mum would not allow him buy me one. “This girl is too young to own a phone”, mum had warned dad several times. “If you buy her a phone I will smash it on the floor”, mum threatened. She insisted none of us would own a phone until we were eighteen. But all my friends in school had phones yet they concentrated on their studies. It was never a distraction like mum painted. I loved the phone dad bought for me because all my friends in school who had intimidated me with theirs began to respect me when they saw mine.
I was enjoying my phone for three months and mum didn’t know I owned a phone. When she’s around I put it off, remove the battery and hid it all through until she had gone.
As I was gaining my dad’s confidence, he struck again. This time he drugged me and raped me. In my sleep I had a dream a man came and forced himself into me. He beat me up after he raped me and warned me never to tell anybody again or else he would kill me with his machete. In the dream, I cried in pain until I woke up and noticed the pain all over my body. I couldn’t lift my hands nor legs. My dad did it again
It became a regular occurrence that my dad regularly took advantage of me. He did it almost every night. His act exposed me to spiritual husband. The man always came to molest me in the dream. My dad will do his physically, while the man will do his own spiritually. In no time, I lost the will to resist my dad. He destroyed my self esteem and pride. My academic performance started dropping. My position in class moved from 2nd and 3rd to 37th. I began to lose interest in my studies; my mind was clouded with sexual filthiness. At seventeen, I had turned to a sex addict. My dad could no longer meet my sexual needs so I arrange for my school boys and teachers to have sex with me when the urge comes.
I was caught with Ahmed having sex in the toilet and the matter was reported to the vice principal. He invited both of us to his office to investigate the matter but he was caught in the web of the seducing spirit in me. I slept with him three times and the case was closed. When the urge comes upon me, I can sleep with any guy available.
It was time to write WAEC and my vice principal had assured me of success if I continued giving him sex. I grabbed the opportunity and made use of it to clear all my papers. I didn’t bother to read my books because the vice principal had arranged everything in my favour. When our results were out, I had distinction in all my papers.
Mum was happy about my result and began to persuade my dad to let them send me abroad for my university education. My dad and mum began another quarrel over my university education. My dad’s business had almost collapsed so he only managed to feed us. Mum was the one responsible for our school fees and other major family bills.
On the 8th of March, I was feverish so I went to the nearest chemist in our neighbourhood to get some drugs for myself. After taking the drugs, I wasn’t getting better then I decided to go to Oxford clinic to run some tests. “Young lady, you are six weeks pregnant,” the lab attendant announced to me as he handed the tests result to me. I collected it without saying a word. When I got home I dropped the test result on dad’s bed and locked up the room so my sisters won’t barge into his room and see the result. Dad hardly lock his room, so he was surprised when he came back and found his room locked. He looked at me and Grace who were both in the living room when he arrived but I pretended I didn’t notice him. He seemed to understand there must be something fishy, so he removed his key and opened the door. Five minutes later he rushed out and invited me to his room. What is the meaning of this? He pointed the test result to me. I was angry and felt like slapping him. How can he ask me the meaning of the test result in his hand. Did he not know that having unprotected sex, would result to pregnancy? I looked at him with disdain.
“Nobody must hear this, let it be between me and you”, my dad pleaded. “We will get rid of it before anyone notices it”. He did not allow me go out for one week until he came with a taxi driver that morning. He drove us for a long journey. He took me to a small hospital between Lagos and Ogun state. A place very difficult to find anybody who knew us. An abortion was carried out on me. My first sexual encounter was with my dad, my first pregnancy was for my dad, my first abortion was by my dad.
It wasn’t easy hiding my affairs with dad from my siblings again. They became so curious and suspicious. They asked me many questions I had no answers to. I was running out of my mind after the abortion. My spiritual husband will also not give me breathing space. He used me every night with serious beating after having sex with me in the dream. One day I asked him, “Why do you always beat me after having sex with me?” “You are a cheat, you have been giving others what belongs to me. If you don’t stop sleeping with your father, I will kill him one day”, he replied. Intentionally, I continued to have sex with my dad so the spiritual man could kill him. I wanted to be free from him. I wanted his death desperately to be free from his prison. My loving dad was then a heartless man.
Getting admission into the higher institution became very difficult. Since the spiritual man had been having sex with me, nothing was moving for me and dad anymore. Everything I did always ended up in failure.
Everything around my family went upside down. Grace fell ill and was diagnosed of a terrible heart condition that required an emergency surgical operation in India. The cost of transportation and medication were in thousands of dollars. Dad had no money anywhere because his business had practically stopped. Mum had to empty her account and borrow more money to fund Grace’s medical bills.
Grace and mum fled to India for the surgery. Everything was not as planned. The surgery was not successful, so they had to stay three extra weeks to carry out another operation. Mum’s leave elapsed and she couldn’t come back from India because of the three weeks extra they needed to stay back for another operation. After series of operations to save Grace’s life, she died while in India. It was a tough time for the family. Mum came back without Grace. Her job was at stake but she had huge loan in the office to offset. On her arrival she couldn’t resume work immediately until after one week. Mum would have gone back to work on Tuesday if not for our pastor who insisted she needed to stay back at home to mourn her daughter. While at home, mum could be on a call for hours.
Mum’s position was given to another person before she resumed. She was moved to the cash department as the cash officer while Mr. Paul was made the new branch manager. These new developments really brought darkness to Fowogbade’s family. My pursuit for admission was put on hold. Christy had to drop from school because of accumulated unpaid school fees. Faith had few months to write WAEC so her fee was paramount. Everywhere we turned to for help, there wasn’t any. Three days for Faith to start her WAEC she took ill and was rushed to the hospital. It was like hell was let loose on Fowogbade’s family. From one calamity to the other.
As if that was not enough. Mum lost her job. A job she held in high esteem. All the bank did, was to let her finish her loan before sacking her. The blow was too much. I had to engage in mini prostitution to help raise money for Faith’s medical bills. I slept with any man who could give me money. Our former vice principal became my main client. At a time, he gave me just a thousand naira after a round of sex. It was this bad. My parent knew I was not working but they had no effrontery to ask where the money was coming from.
I was much afraid of nemesis catching up with me some day, considering the number of men I had unprotected sex with. The threats and assaults from my spirit husband kept me in fear. Even when I was sick, I couldn’t talk to anyone about it in order not to compound my family’s problem. We began to live a beggarly life. The church was our lifeline. Dad had sold everything we had just to keep us going. Faith had practically missed her WAEC that year. Everything was against us. My tears of agony and pain were no more friendly. Our landlord was the only one who seemed to understand with us. But his understanding did not last for eternity. He came pleading that we should forget the outstanding and just vacate his house in three months. The man was kind-hearted but he needed to make the decision to recover his property. I had to sleep with our landlord five times for him to extend our stay for another six months. My parents were not aware of what I did that made the landlord give us six months extension.
Out of curiosity, I insisted I must know what was wrong with Faith since I was the major financier of her medical bills. No one was telling me until I stopped bringing money for anything. My mum reluctantly told me she did an abortion and it was not well managed and she had complications. “As I talk to you now, your sister’s womb has to be removed to save her life”. Immediately I heard this I went blank. After some minutes I asked mum if she revealed who impregnated her. “No, she said she doesn’t know who was responsible. Meanwhile the doctor advised we don’t bother her for now until she’s out of the hospital”.
I was mad in my spirit, “let it not be what I was thinking”, I mustered some words to myself. Could it be that dad had also been sleeping with Faith without my knowledge? Faith was a decent girl and she had never told me she had a boyfriend. We talked a lot and I would have known if she was seeing any guy.
My reaction got my mum worried but I couldn’t tell her what was going on in my mind. “If daddy is responsible for Faith’s pregnancy, I will kill him and kill myself”, I assured myself.
My heart was heavy and weak: “Why are all these things happening to us alone? O God have mercy on Fowogbade’s family. Grace was gone, mum lost her job, Faith is laying helpless in the hospital, dad’s business had totally collapsed, landlord had given us ultimatum to leave the house, I have become a sex addict, everyone had abandoned us, eating regular food and living a good life is elusive, Christy is at home because of school fees. What is our offense? Why are all these things happening to us at the same time? Who did we offend? What happened to those prayers mum did for the family? God, are you in existence?”
When I was left alone with Faith I hugged her passionately to my heart. “Dear, I love you and you will live to testify of God’s goodness”, I spoke many words of hope to her.
‘Faith, I know who is responsible for your pregnancy,” I said and looked straight into her eyes for a long time. “Is he the one?” She bent her head and tears rolled down uncontrollably. I looked at those tears and saw betrayal, disappointment, dashed hope, hatred and unexpressed agony. Without a word, I understood those tears. They were tears that spoke volume more than words. Dad had been doing it with Faith too. “But why would dad be this wicked? Why did dad wear the garment of an angel but a heart of a monster?” We held ourselves for minutes as we both sobbed bitterly in each other’s arms. (this is a case of a dad’s involvement, there were instances where an elder brother subjected the younger sisters to sucking his penis until he cums. Hmmm, things are happening – story for another day. They knew it was wrong but couldn’t talk as kids, but today as adults, the whole childhood early experience has contributed to the hatred meted out to him.)
Faith narrated what she has been through in dad’s prison. I thought my case was pathetic but Faith’s own was more terrible. Faith spent two hours telling me how it all started. Dad started sleeping with Faith at age 11. A time she was yet to menstruate. “He started by putting his finger in my pant, then he would tell me never to tell anybody. He told me he would kill me if I ever tell anybody.” “At a times, I couldn’t stand to hear the atrocities my dad had done to us. Mum was the genesis of our problems. She was never available for us when we needed her. Dad played the role of a father and a mother. Mum made dad’s life miserable because she saw him as an unbeliever. Dad never enjoyed mum’s intimacy hence he found solace in his daughters’ laps. If dad must die, mum should die first. I will take vengeance as I live”, I promised myself. I can no longer wait for God’s judgment or the threats of my spiritual husband. Their judgment is too slow.
Faith’s womb was damaged because dad had done abortion for her three times. But how manage I didn’t know all these when it was happening right under my nose? If I accused mum of carelessness, I think I was more careless than her. How can my sister be pregnant for my dad three times without me knowing? She did three abortions and I was not aware? “Adenike you’re very stupid and useless”, I insulted myself.
I had sat down to weigh the consequences of exposing dad and killing him. Killing him seemed better. It will clean the mess and save the family name from shame and disgrace. Exposing him would drag the family name to the mud and leave everlasting stigma on our generation. The stain will haunt us all: our lives and our unborn children. Who knows if he had done it with Christy and Grace too? That will be the worst of the blow. Grace was gone but I can find out from Christy if she had been abused by dad too.
I was deep in this though when I slept off. In my brief sleep I had a long dream. In my dream, I sent thugs to kidnap my spiritual husband who had been abusing me. They brought him into a thick forest where he was tied hands and foot. The leader of the gang gave me a gun to shoot him. I took the gun and pulled the trigger and blew his head off. As soon as I killed him, some police officers surrounded us and took us away. We were thrown behind bars with serious torture. Still in my dream we were charged to court and when the court clerk called my case she said “I hereby call up the case between Miss Adenike Fowogbade and the state”. The judge looked into the file before him and looked at my face, Miss Adenike Fowogbade, you were accused of the murder of Mr Temitayo Fowogbade on the 17th of September; are you guilty or not?” I had not said a word when the judge pronounced his judgment.
Having been found guilty of this offense of murder, you are hereby sentenced to death by……. That was the last thing I heard and the next I saw was that I was thrown into a dark bottomless pit and I was going down endlessly then I woke up. I was so frightened and my body was shaking uncontrollably for minutes. I became restless because I understood the dream. All messages I ever heard on hell fire flashed back in a jiffy.
I tried to pray but no single word came out of my mouth. I tried crying but my tears were held back. My knees were hitting each other. I lied on the floor for 25 minutes without knowing what to do. The earth was so empty as if rapture had taken place. I looked right and left nobody to talk to. I looked down, the fear of hell gripped me. So I decided to look up to God for help. I felt an invisible presence at my back saying “The prayer of a sinner is an abomination before God”. I picked my Bible but the pages were blank. O God have mercy on me! I know I had gone far away from you but please remember the blood of your Son, Jesus Christ. I wept in bitterness.
The fear and terror of hell made me suspend my plans to kill dad. As much as I wanted vengeance against him, the experience of hell I had in my dream was so scary and frightening. Hell is not a place to be for a minute talk more of eternity. I rather swallow the venom of vengeance than go to that terrible place. But why would someone I am related with or any human creature in God’s image consciously or unconsciously be the one to make me go to hell? Your end will be terrible and full of regrets.
The few minutes I spent in the bottomless pit cannot be described with man’s language. If you are reading this story I beg you never to go to hell. Some persons have sworn to take you to hell through the manipulation of their master the devil, please do not allow their plot to prevail over you. Please! Live a life that heaven would be happy with you for.
Faith’s womb was removed but mum never knew what the real problem was.
After Faith was discharged from the hospital, dad fell sick. He started losing his memory and his thoughts. He was transferred to the psychiatric hospital for more investigation. Dad spent two weeks at the psychiatric hospital before he was discharged. He began to gain his memory and thoughts back.
Our six months ultimatum given to us by our landlord would expire in some few weeks. He expected me to renew the rent like I did before, but it was late. I had made up my mind never to do evil again. I will keep my body for the Lord henceforth. I could not see what I saw in my dream and continue living a careless life.
My refusal to warm his bed got him angry so much that he gave us seven days to move out as against three weeks left from the original arrangement. I was not bothered this time because I had rather sleep on the street than offer him my body again.
We began to plan to move out before the seven days elapsed but had no money anywhere to even pay for a two-room apartment. I did not go back to those men again neither did I allow anyone to use me for a price again. Our pastor was contemplating we bringing our loads into the old children hall in the church. Our burden was just too heavy for the church at this time. Our uncles all abandoned us like they never existed. Leaving our house would generate lots of embarrassment because of the debts we are owing in the neighbourhood.
We eventually moved our things to the old children hall in our Church. We also slept in the hall for two days before dad went to scout with his friend. Mum, myself and Faith put up with a church member. The frustrations and humiliations was unbearable but we had no option at the moment. I went to a program with a friend in their church and the pastor made an altar call for those who wanted to give their lives to Christ. I was the first to walk out. The sermon was too powerful to resist a follow up call to give ones life to Christ. I rededicated my life to Christ and my peace began to come back again.
Dad became sick again so much that he was stinking. Taking care of him was really a big sacrifice. We had no money to give him good care. The church tried their best but couldn’t solve all our problems. I became a regular member in God’s People Church where I gave my life to Christ. I don’t miss their hour of visitations that usually take place every Friday.
Dad’s health deteriorated so badly. Deliverance was conducted on me and the spiritual husband left but the pastor said my deliverance and that of my family would only be complete if my dad confessed all his atrocities — For anyone who must have sexually molested anyone, please go and look for him or her and confess, apologize and be delivered for the curse to be broken over you and your generation. After my deliverance, the spiritual husband came into my dream to molest me like the other times but I resisted. He attempted raping me but we fought dirty and he sustained a big injury on his head and lost so much of blood. His men who used to be with him during other visits didn’t come with him this time. He laid down helplessly and that was his last visit.
Pastor Rotkam began to visit dad to persuade him to confess his sins and be free but dad was adamant for months until he became blind and his heart was failing.
On the 16th December my dad asked me to invite Pastor Rotkam and our pastor. I pleaded with Pastor Rotkam to please come and see my dad. He was reluctant because he seemed to have lost hope on my dad and resolved that he would let my dad die in his sins since he refused to confess his sins. He finally agreed and a meeting date was agreed upon.
“I am making this confession not because I want God to heal me, but so that my family can be free from what I caused them as a result of my atrocities. Pastor, please, I want more mothers to be invited to listen to my confession”, my dad requested. Our pastor called the women leader of our church and within thirty minutes the room was filled to capacity.
“First I want to plead for mercy from my beloved daughter, Adenike and her sisters for all I did to them. All that happened was caused by my wife: She placed her career above her family and left the care of the children to me. She was never available for us so I took over her role as a mother. I was my children’s father and mother. My wife starved me of sex all through our thirty years of marriage. Sometimes we could stay for eight months without meeting each other as husband and wife. She said I have evil spirit and she doesn’t want me to infect her with my evil spirit.
I found comfort in my children, the comfort I never find in my wife. They became my wife I never had and were so close to me. I threatened my wife with getting sexual satisfaction elsewhere if she will not give me and she gave me the go ahead and that was the beginning of evil in my family.
I have slept with all my daughters. I have aborted their pregnancies times severally except for Grace. I molested my daughters for over two decades and my wife was not aware. I did a charm on them to stop them from telling anyone about what I was doing to them. I know I may not live because the day I confesses, I will die, according to the juju man. I alsooooo………, dad could not complete that statement when he was attacked with hiccup and gave up the ghost.
The women in the room could not hold back their tears. It was a festival of tears. Everyone in the room wept bitterly not because my dad passed on but for the emotional confession. God forgave us but every member of the family was left with a scar. Faith lost her womb, I was tested HIV positive, mum went into comma and became paralyzed partially, Christy dropped out of school and Grace died.
Look at what the sin of one man caused my family. Mothers who are reading my story should remember that they will face God one day to give account of their role as mothers.
Fathers, no matter how much you love your female children, know when to set the boundary. Ladies and children who are going through what I and my sisters went through should speak up and be free. I may be HIV positive but I am free and happy especially with the hope of eternal life in Christ Jesus.
Who really caused the atrocities?
Should you be allowed to judge, do you think the career driven wife
should have resigned from her job for family sake?