By Yetunde Arabi

Hi!

“At what point does a man decide to risk it all, his marriage, children and the love and respect of all those who depend on him, to embark on a mission that may turn his world upside down?

The man you are about to read his story travelled this lane when he found himself captivated by the lure of young flesh. It turned out to be an adventure he would forever regret. Three years later, Uncle D is yet to get over what he described as his shameful experience in the hands of a little girl. He shares his story with us in this two part edition. Cheers!

Let me share an experience that forced me into reviewing my position about these little girls prancing about the streets in search of older men to prey on. I now consider it sheer waste of time and useful resources. It is something I doubt I want to ever engage in again. Even if the girl were to offer herself for free, I will not fall for it. Not because I am now born again as they say oh! I am not one to hide under such guise, besides, I still date them. However, I have reached a level where having  tested the waters so many times, it has become too easy to predict how deep the river runs merely by watching the flow. Most of these young girls are only good for the fun of it. Do not take them too seriously.

I met Bimbola, a 23 year old young undergraduate about three years ago. I started dating her almost as soon as I set my eyes on her. She was a very pretty sight to look at. As for the sexual part of it, she fared well, because I have had better experienced young lovers than she was at the time. But I found her somewhat different, a mixture of innocence and naughtiness. If you understand the psychology of men, you will know that the sexual part of a relationship is not really the defining factor. A few other things go into it. I enjoyed her company very much as she was never short of words. She was very intelligent, witty and very calculating too. I always found our discussions very stimulating. She did not really come from a regular average family.

Hubby may get away with affairs, but not the wife!(Opens in a new browser tab)

Though her father owns the house they lived in, he is a polygamist and it was evident that he did not really invest in his children. Her mother took care of Bimbola and her other children from the meagre proceeds from her little shop in front of their house. It was evident that her hopes of a better future were on her first child, Bimbola and she was happy about our relationship. It did not really take me a long time to fall in love with. I wanted to be her saviour, the one to turn things around for them for the better. I don’t know how she did it, but she really got into my head. I was ready to risk everything for their sake. I knew it would not be easy, but my wife would have no other choice but to accept the situation. After all, I would not be bringing her to our matrimonial home.

My wife and I had been married for about 18 years and she had become more like a sister to me. Not that we did not make love any more, but it had become more like a routine, not much excitement. Mind you, this has nothing to do with love. I love my wife and children and service year, I could not bear the thought of her leaving Lagos. Besides, all my investments might go to waste. So, I got a friend in Abuja to help influence her posting to a neighbouring State where she could shuttle with minimum difficulty. Though she was posted to Ogun, then, we got one of the guys over there to take care of things for half of her allowance. I rented an apartment for Bimbola so that she would not have to return home. It was tastily furnished to my standards because it was also somewhere I could be proud to invite my friends over to visit. The way she lapped up the attention and care    I showered on her and her level of response assured me that I was not wasting my time. She was very caring and loving too. Always confessing how much she loved and desired me. What she would do if I ever left her. How I was just perfect for her. Such that at some point, I also concluded that it would be callous of me to leave her when she had become so dependent on me.

Initially, I had assumed that her parents would object to the relationship as I was closer to their age than hers. But they did not really mind. All they wanted from me was a promise that I would always take care of her and by extension, them.    Still, there was bound to be some moments of doubt. A friend whom I had confided in about my intentions to marry Bimbola was against it and would not allow me rest. Of our group of friends, he is the most reserved. He does everything with moderation, so his reaction to my plan was not surprising.

He would always tell me I was wasting my time and money. That Bimola was never going to be faithful to me. He was sure that she had some hidden agenda and was merely prodding me on for what she could get out of the relationship. He even expressed surprise at my intense feelings for her, suggesting that I had been laced  with juju. But if she had, I wouldn’t know, would I? And in my stupidity, I told him it could only mean that she loved me and was prepared to preserve that love at all cost. However, my friend’s constant bickering forced me to accept the possibilities that the relationship could still hit the rock despite all I’d invested to secure it.

If she was cheating on me, there was virtually nothing I could do about it, unless she was caught in the act. I could only let her know my feelings. So I called her for a serious discussion. I told her I was not unaware of her youthfulness and that she would have friends of her age group. However, I would not like to visit her and meet any of them in the apartment. That any day it happened, would mean the end of the relationship. Initially she tried to stage a fickle protest, accusing me of trying to cage her and run her life.

But when she saw that I was unrelenting, she piped down. I got her a job at a bank with the help of another friend. The job was as good as a permanent one. I believe it was here that she made up her mind that she could make it through on her own, from then on. When I look back, it seemed that Bimbola had planned out all she would do long in advance.

No sooner had the service year ended and her appointment confirmed at the bank, Bimbola began to display strange traits like someone under great pressure. Though she still attended to me perfectly whenever I was at the apartment, she was becoming less responsive when it came to intimacy. She never used to turn me down. Sex was always served when I visited, unless I said no, which might even be impossible as she would whine and complain that it was the only thing she held on to in the night when I would have gone home to my wife.

Bimbola’s seeming withdrawal towards intimacy was a bit strange as we had agreed to start planning for a baby after her service year, but when I brought up the subject, she told me she needed more time at the bank before she could get pregnant. That the bank had made her sign an agreement that she would not have a child in the first two years. She had not informed me of this before signing the letter. I knew if she had, I would have found a way around it with the help of my friend who got her the job. However, she said it did not matter as two years would soon be over. It was here that I first suspected something terrible might be going on. So, I shouldn’t have been surprised when she told me about a certain young man that had been troubling her for a date at the office.

Why mothers shouldn’t teach their children the facts of life!(Opens in a new browser tab)

Jokingly, I had asked her to tell the guy that she was no food for restless young lads and that she had been given over to the elders. Though we both laughed over it, my suspicion had somehow been aroused. I only reminded her of my warning that she should not bring anyone to the apartment. But not too long after that again, she told me that some people at her office had been calling her the wife of the guy she had once discussed with me. I realised then that the whole thing was more serious than I had earlier imagined”.

So, how did Uncle D cut his loses? What happened to Busola and her family? Let’s meet here again next Saturday for the concluding part of this story. Do have a wonderful weekend!!

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