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Mama, can you see me?

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Mama, can you hear me? Mama, can you hear me? I asked myself as I watched her from across the room, flirting with him. He looked over at me and smirked, his eyes traveling down my frame, and even in my wheelchair, I felt tiny. I felt dirty. I felt disgusting. The memories of all the horrible things that he had done to me in this same holy building rushing back to me as his gaze intensified. I opened my mouth to speak, in an attempt to call my mother’s attention to the bastard she called her priest but no words came out. I croaked like a frog, hiding my face in embarrassment as the other kids around me laughed. I looked up again to see that he had joined in the laughter, and that had caught my mother’s attention. She turned around to look at me disapprovingly, her honey brown eyes piercing me like sharp needles and hoping I disappeared into the shadows. I was her curse. Her punishment. Her only child, and one
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What is love?

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What is love? What is love? I stared down in irritation at the disgusting little body of my week old baby screaming at the top of her lungs. She had a healthy pair, I'd give her that. With each passing second, her cries rose harder, threatening to bring down the roof of the shack where we lived in with her useless father. My hands balled into fists at my sides, my fingers digging into my palm as i resisted the urge to wrap said fingers around her throat and snuff life out of her. All through pregnancy, everyone had gushed about how much I would love her. About how her birth would bring my life meaning, and fill it with rainbow and sunshine. That the pains of the pregnancy that almost killed me would translate to immence joy and blessing and peace. And yet here I stood...waiting for those promises to be fulfilled... I couldn't even bring myself to love what I created. Maybe this was it? Love? W
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The Dream

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I smiled in pure joy and happiness as I watched are Adeyinka grovel at my feet, with his eyeballs in my hands begging for mercy. I threw my head back and laughed, he thought he escaped me. He thought I would forget what he did. “Please. I already said I was sorry!!!” “But sorry isn’t enough, is it? You killed my sister.” “I didn’t kill her. She died in during childbirth.” “True. But your actions pushed her to it.” Yinka laughed, and the sight of him laughing with blood pouring out of his sockets seemed comedic to me and I began to laugh too. “You didn’t remember she was your sister when you were happily bouncing on my cock, did you?” I stopped laughing, and a tear rolled down my cheek. “I’m wrong too, and that is a mistake I will pay for with my life. I’ll make sure of it. But before that, you’ll pay first.” I grabbed the half-full gallon of fuel I had kept in the corner of the room, and began to pour it
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Dear Journal: Would I end up like my mother?

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Dear journal, Would I end up like my mother? Angry, desolate, single in my marriage, emotionally and physically abused, hopeless, sick and waiting on some divine power to turn back the hands of the clock so I can re-write my past. Waiting on some divine power to heal me… make me whole. Would I end up like my mother? In a performative marriage, with performative children who I would try to mould their lives to fit who I had planned to be. Would I end up like my mother trying to live through my children rather than let them forge their own path…let them be architects of their own destiny? Would I end up like my mother? Angry at the world and blaming everyone and everything but myself for decisions and sacrifices that I was solely responsible for making? Would I end up like her wishing I had kept contact with certain people and wondering what had become of them? Would I remember the “good old days” that were characterize
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The wife, the mistress and the baby.

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I grimaced at the ugly, disgusting and dirty little brat that lay in my arms and sucked at my breasts. It was just an hour old and I was seconds away from throwing it across the room. Why? It was a physical representation of my pain, of the void that lay in my heart and the empty flat I would be returning to. I looked down at the unfortunate twat and had the urge to hurt it. I wanted to run my finger nails across its face severally until it became a bleeding mess and unrecognizable. Much like my life. I wanted to bend its palm backwards until it’s wrist snapped and broke. I wanted to hurt it as bad as it had hurt me. I smiled at the mental image that it created in my head, it was satisfying. But more than I wanted to kill this baby, I wanted to kill his father. I wondered if he was with his mistress right now. His wife just pushed out his baby and not a single second could be spared for her. My eyes bl
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My man: My sister’s husband.

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What’s better than fucking your sister’s boyfriend?Fucking your sister’s husband. What’s better than fucking your sister’s husband? Fucking him on his wedding night. What’s better than fucking him on his wedding night? Fucking him on his matrimonial bed while his brand new wife is knocked out from an overdose of sleeping pills. She’ll be fine. Would probably wake up very dizzy and disoriented, but it was a small price to pay for the pleasure that was coursing through me. I and Tunji developed a connection the very first time we laid eyes on each other. My sister had finally brought him home and introduced us. I stared into his chocolate eyes and felt every part of me come to life. I felt my nipples harden, juices flooded my cunt. And in that moment, I just knew that I had to have him. Fuck the consequences. The way his eyes had dropped down to my very full chest, and was fixated on my hardened
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You never truly forget your first.

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I guess it’s true what they say. You never truly forget your first love. I sighed and dug my feet deeper into the sand of Elegushi beach where it had all began. The place where we met. The place where we fell in love…and made that stupid promise. “Let’s come back here in 20 years…regardless of where we are, who we’re with, regardless of consequences. Let’s make it back to where it began.” I had said to him. “We’re going to be together forever. We will have three beautiful girls that would look just like you.” “Even though. Promise me, no matter what, we’ll both be standing here together, at this same time, same date in 20 years…” “I promise…” That was what he had said to me, but he left six months later after I had found out I was pregnant with his child. He had promised. What was I doing here
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