Title: How I KNACKERED my madam HUSBAND 💦❣️ 💦 🍆 🍆 😋
Episode 16: The Day the Roof Finally Caught Fire
It was a quiet Tuesday afternoon.
Madam Grace had come back early from school because of a teachers’ meeting that was cancelled. The children were still in school; the driver would bring them by 3 p.m. Oga was at the office. I thought I had the house to myself.
I had just finished bathing and was in my room, rubbing cream, wearing only panties and a small towel on my chest. Oga had sent me a message: “Leave your door open small. I’m coming by 2 p.m. to collect something sweet.” I was smiling at the phone when I heard the gate open.
I thought it was him coming early.
It was Madam.
She walked straight to the boys’ quarters without knocking (something she had never done before). The door to my room was half open. She pushed it and entered.
I froze.
She looked around slowly: the new iPhone on the bed, the Brazilian hair on the table, the expensive cream, the gold jewellery on the dresser, then her eyes fell on the small waste bin beside my bed.
Inside the bin was a used condom, still fresh, tied, with sperm inside. It was from the night before when Oga slept in my room.
The air left my lungs.
Madam picked it up with two fingers like it was poison. She looked at it, looked at me, looked at it again.
Everything happened in slow motion.
Then she screamed.
“Lovina! So it is true! You are the one! You are the strange woman sleeping with my husband!”
She started throwing things: my phone, my cream, my wig. She slapped me hard across the face. I fell on the bed.
“You small girl! You have been eating my husband in my own house! Under my roof! God will punish you!”
I was crying, kneeling, begging. “Mummy, please… it’s the devil… please…”
She ran out, shouting, “Pack your load now! This minute! I am calling your aunty! You are leaving this house today!”
I was shaking on the floor when Oga’s car drove in. He had come for his “something sweet.”
He heard the shouting and ran to the boys’ quarters.
Madam was dragging my box outside, throwing my clothes on the ground, still holding the used condom in one hand like evidence.
“Look at it, Emeka! Look at your work! This is what you have turned my marriage into!”
Oga looked at the condom, looked at me crying half-naked, looked at Madam.
Then something switched in his eyes.
Instead of calming her, instead of lying, instead of begging, he spoke with ice in his voice.
“Grace, lower your voice. You are embarrassing yourself.”
Madam stopped shouting and stared at him like he had slapped her.
“Emeka, did you just say I am embarrassing myself after catching you with the house-help?”
He stepped closer. “Yes. You are shouting like a mad woman because of one condom. Is that how low you have fallen?”
Madam started laughing, a bitter painful laugh.
“So you are defending her now? Openly?”
Oga looked at her up and down. “Grace, look at yourself. Look at how fat and old you have become. Look at your stomach after three children. Look at your dry skin. Who wants to touch that? Lovina is young, fresh, sweet. She gives me peace. You give me headache every day with your crying and visions and fasting.”
The compound went dead silent.
Even the security man at the gate disappeared inside his room.
Madam dropped the condom on the ground. Tears were falling but she wasn’t making a sound.
“So this is it,” she whispered. “Twelve years of marriage, three children, and you stand here and insult me because of a small girl.”
Oga didn’t blink. “If you don’t like what is happening in my house, pack your own load and leave. The children can stay or go with you. I don’t care. But Lovina is not going anywhere.”
Madam looked at him for a long time, then at me.
I was still on the floor, covering myself with the towel, crying silently.
She spoke very quietly. “Emeka, you will regret this day.”
Then she turned, walked inside the main house, and locked herself in the bedroom.
Oga came to me, helped me up, carried me inside my room, locked the door.
He held me while I cried.
“Stop crying,” he said. “Today is the day everything becomes clear. I am tired of pretending. You are my woman now. Openly.”
I was shaking. “But the children… your family… what will people say?”
He kissed my forehead. “Let them say. I have money. I have power. Nobody can touch us.”
That night Madam didn’t come out of the room. She didn’t cook. She didn’t eat. The children came back, knocked on her door, she sent them away gently.
Oga slept in my room openly. He bathed in my small bathroom, wore his boxers, lay on my bed watching football on my new television. Like it was normal.
The next morning Madam came out, eyes red, face hard.
She called the children, dressed them for school herself, and told the driver to take them.
Then she came to the parlour where Oga was eating the breakfast I made.
“Emeka,” she said calmly, “I am leaving today with my children. When you are ready to beg, you will know where to find us.”
Oga didn’t even look up from his phone. “Safe journey.”
Madam looked at me standing by the kitchen door.
“Lovina, enjoy. It will not last.”
She went upstairs, packed three bags, called her driver, and left with the children.
The gate closed behind them.
Oga turned to me, smiled, pulled me onto his lap.
“Now the house is truly ours, Madam Akachi.”
I smiled, but deep inside my stomach was turning.
Something told me this victory was too easy.
And that Madam Grace was not finished.
We thought we had won.
We had only opened the door for war.
And the real fight was just beginning.
Ime ✍️ To be continue... Please share to your Facebook groups 🙏🏽 #africanfolktales #storytelling #love #episode #storytime #story #goviral #fblifestyle #storyteller
Episode 16: The Day the Roof Finally Caught Fire
It was a quiet Tuesday afternoon.
Madam Grace had come back early from school because of a teachers’ meeting that was cancelled. The children were still in school; the driver would bring them by 3 p.m. Oga was at the office. I thought I had the house to myself.
I had just finished bathing and was in my room, rubbing cream, wearing only panties and a small towel on my chest. Oga had sent me a message: “Leave your door open small. I’m coming by 2 p.m. to collect something sweet.” I was smiling at the phone when I heard the gate open.
I thought it was him coming early.
It was Madam.
She walked straight to the boys’ quarters without knocking (something she had never done before). The door to my room was half open. She pushed it and entered.
I froze.
She looked around slowly: the new iPhone on the bed, the Brazilian hair on the table, the expensive cream, the gold jewellery on the dresser, then her eyes fell on the small waste bin beside my bed.
Inside the bin was a used condom, still fresh, tied, with sperm inside. It was from the night before when Oga slept in my room.
The air left my lungs.
Madam picked it up with two fingers like it was poison. She looked at it, looked at me, looked at it again.
Everything happened in slow motion.
Then she screamed.
“Lovina! So it is true! You are the one! You are the strange woman sleeping with my husband!”
She started throwing things: my phone, my cream, my wig. She slapped me hard across the face. I fell on the bed.
“You small girl! You have been eating my husband in my own house! Under my roof! God will punish you!”
I was crying, kneeling, begging. “Mummy, please… it’s the devil… please…”
She ran out, shouting, “Pack your load now! This minute! I am calling your aunty! You are leaving this house today!”
I was shaking on the floor when Oga’s car drove in. He had come for his “something sweet.”
He heard the shouting and ran to the boys’ quarters.
Madam was dragging my box outside, throwing my clothes on the ground, still holding the used condom in one hand like evidence.
“Look at it, Emeka! Look at your work! This is what you have turned my marriage into!”
Oga looked at the condom, looked at me crying half-naked, looked at Madam.
Then something switched in his eyes.
Instead of calming her, instead of lying, instead of begging, he spoke with ice in his voice.
“Grace, lower your voice. You are embarrassing yourself.”
Madam stopped shouting and stared at him like he had slapped her.
“Emeka, did you just say I am embarrassing myself after catching you with the house-help?”
He stepped closer. “Yes. You are shouting like a mad woman because of one condom. Is that how low you have fallen?”
Madam started laughing, a bitter painful laugh.
“So you are defending her now? Openly?”
Oga looked at her up and down. “Grace, look at yourself. Look at how fat and old you have become. Look at your stomach after three children. Look at your dry skin. Who wants to touch that? Lovina is young, fresh, sweet. She gives me peace. You give me headache every day with your crying and visions and fasting.”
The compound went dead silent.
Even the security man at the gate disappeared inside his room.
Madam dropped the condom on the ground. Tears were falling but she wasn’t making a sound.
“So this is it,” she whispered. “Twelve years of marriage, three children, and you stand here and insult me because of a small girl.”
Oga didn’t blink. “If you don’t like what is happening in my house, pack your own load and leave. The children can stay or go with you. I don’t care. But Lovina is not going anywhere.”
Madam looked at him for a long time, then at me.
I was still on the floor, covering myself with the towel, crying silently.
She spoke very quietly. “Emeka, you will regret this day.”
Then she turned, walked inside the main house, and locked herself in the bedroom.
Oga came to me, helped me up, carried me inside my room, locked the door.
He held me while I cried.
“Stop crying,” he said. “Today is the day everything becomes clear. I am tired of pretending. You are my woman now. Openly.”
I was shaking. “But the children… your family… what will people say?”
He kissed my forehead. “Let them say. I have money. I have power. Nobody can touch us.”
That night Madam didn’t come out of the room. She didn’t cook. She didn’t eat. The children came back, knocked on her door, she sent them away gently.
Oga slept in my room openly. He bathed in my small bathroom, wore his boxers, lay on my bed watching football on my new television. Like it was normal.
The next morning Madam came out, eyes red, face hard.
She called the children, dressed them for school herself, and told the driver to take them.
Then she came to the parlour where Oga was eating the breakfast I made.
“Emeka,” she said calmly, “I am leaving today with my children. When you are ready to beg, you will know where to find us.”
Oga didn’t even look up from his phone. “Safe journey.”
Madam looked at me standing by the kitchen door.
“Lovina, enjoy. It will not last.”
She went upstairs, packed three bags, called her driver, and left with the children.
The gate closed behind them.
Oga turned to me, smiled, pulled me onto his lap.
“Now the house is truly ours, Madam Akachi.”
I smiled, but deep inside my stomach was turning.
Something told me this victory was too easy.
And that Madam Grace was not finished.
We thought we had won.
We had only opened the door for war.
And the real fight was just beginning.
Ime ✍️ To be continue... Please share to your Facebook groups 🙏🏽 #africanfolktales #storytelling #love #episode #storytime #story #goviral #fblifestyle #storyteller
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