Feature
My boss slept with my wife, her sister and their mother
My boss slept with my wife, her sister and their mother
I’m not sure I truly want to tell this story.
Every time I think about it, something in me starts to spiral.
My mind begins to churn, everything all at once.
I search for understanding, hoping to grasp what drives a man to do certain things. But I come up blank.
And in that void, I feel like I’m losing my grip.
The chaos I’m talking about, the trouble it might’ve stayed hidden, it might’ve never surfaced if I hadn’t gone drinking with some friends.
We were just passing time. Laughing, toasting and ranting until one of them, drunk and loose-lipped, let something slip.
I thought it was the babble of a man too far gone. Turns out, it was the truth. The kind of truth that rearranges your life. You want me to start from the beginning?
Where is the beginning, exactly? I don’t know. But maybe if I keep talking, you’ll be able to find it for me.
Caught stealing
So, yes, I was caught stealing. I’m not proud of it. It’s a chapter I carry with shame.
But I was young. Hungry. And hopeless. My friends convinced me to join them on a warehouse job.
The plan was reckless: we’d blend in with the hired off-loaders while goods were being moved, get ourselves locked inside, and then sneak out at midnight with as much as we could carry.
It sounded brilliant at the time. We pulled it off, got inside, fooled everyone. We got locked in, just as planned.
But the part they didn’t tell me? There were dogs. Fierce, trained ones. And night guards. Real ones. Not the sleepy kind.
We couldn’t get out.
The dogs barked like they were announcing our sins to heaven, all night long.
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By morning, the guards found us and held us—not for the police, but for their boss. The one they called ‘Chairman.’
They wanted him to see us first.
And that’s when everything changed.
Chairman arrived mid-morning, flanked by two senior staff and the kind of quiet authority that makes grown men straighten their backs. We were lined up like cattle—myself and the two other boys who’d been caught—and I was bracing myself to be marched straight to the police.
But Chairman didn’t yell.
He simply looked at us and asked, “Why steal when you could work?” I was stunned.
Nobody talks to a thief like that. But I told him the truth: I was a driver, had lost my job, and was desperate.
He paused, looked me in the eye, then turned to the guards. “Let him drive for us. And give his friends offloading work,” he said.
Rescued
Just like that, we were rescued. Not punished. Given a second chance.
And from that moment, Chairman became something close to sacred in my life.
If he hadn’t stepped in, I might have ended up in jail or worse. You don’t forget people who pull you from the pit.
I worked with him for almost five years: First as a truck driver, moving goods across Nigeria from company to warehouse.
Then, after his personal driver died in a car accident, I took over that role. I became his shadow. Wherever Chairman went, I followed.
And I never forgot what he did for me. I was loyal. Fiercely so.
Now Chairman had a ‘woman friend’ everyone knew about her. Her name was Alhaja.
And though Chairman was married, his relationship with Alhaja went beyond business.
She was one of our suppliers, handled contracts, and frequently involved Chairman in her deals.
As his driver, I often took him to discreet guesthouses.
He and Alhaja would go in, stay a few hours, and emerge separately—each stepping into their own car like nothing happened.
We never spoke of it. Chairman never said a word about her, and I never asked.
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I kept my eyes front, stayed in my lane. Her driver and I would sometimes park beside each other, silent, waiting for our bosses to finish whatever business they were conducting. Then, one day, I saw her daughter. Muyi.
She was familiar.
Turned out, we went to CMS Grammar School together. I hadn’t seen her in years.
We reconnected. Laughs turned to calls. Calls turned into meet-ups. Before long, we were seeing each other.
Secretly.
Marrying daughter
Months in, I asked Chairman himself if he’d speak to Alhaja on my behalf. I wanted to marry her daughter. And that, right there, is where the next chapter begins. I knew my place. I was a driver. Muyi was the daughter of Alhaja, my Chairman’s woman friend.
It would’ve been considered out of line for someone like me to even speak to her romantically.
But Muyi wasn’t the type to shy away from what she wanted. And what she wanted, apparently… was me.
We didn’t even court for long. She got pregnant. And you can’t hide pregnancy.
So, I went to Chairman.
I told him, “Sir, this is the situation… Please help me speak to Alhaja. I want to marry her daughter.”
Everything happened quickly. Pa pa pa. We did the nikkai. Muyi became my wife officially.
Then, one evening after a long day driving Chairman around, I decided not to go straight home. I stopped at a joint with some colleagues from work. It was my usual thing, order pepper soup, take it home to Muyi. She was pregnant and often craved spicy soups.
I asked the service girl to prepare it, but she was slow. And I, three bottles in, was loud. “Abeg, hurry up. My wife is pregnant. I’m taking this home to her.”
Chairman’s head
That’s when my friend, equally drunk, laughed and said, “The baby will have Chairman’s head. The rest of the body will be yours.”
I froze.
“What did you say?” I asked.
He repeated it, casually.
I lost it. I lunged at him. We fought. We were separated, but what he said, that sentence, became the turning point for me.
When I got home, I told Muyi what had happened. I expected her to wave it off, maybe say drunk people talk nonsense. But she said nothing.
Nothing.
That silence lit a fire between us. Quarrels followed. I couldn’t shake the feeling, especially knowing her mother and Chairman were involved. When I confronted her about that, she claimed she didn’t know.
How could she not know?
Everyone knew.
Then much later, too late, she confessed.
Her mother had introduced her to Chairman. He had slept with her. And with her older sister, Aiyi.
She said it was before we met. Before we met, she said. As if that would clean the stain. Tell me. What kind of man sleeps with a mother and both of her daughters?
I was sick. I didn’t know what to do with myself.
And remember, I am still Chairman’s personal driver. Every time he asked after my wife, I wondered: Was he picturing her naked? Was he recalling what they did?
I was spiraling.
But what could I do? Leave my job—and go back to what? Back to stealing?
Leave my wife, and say what? That her past poisoned our present? I’m stuck.
I still don’t know what to do and a part of me thinks our new baby may not be mine.
My boss slept with my wife, her sister and their mother
Vanguard
Feature
Ooni most supreme traditional ruler in Yorubaland — Elebuibon
Ooni most supreme traditional ruler in Yorubaland — Elebuibon
Renowned Ifa priest, Araba Ifayemi Elebuibon, has spoken on rift between the Ooni of Ife, Oba Adeyeye Ogunwusi, the Alaafin of Oyo, Oba Abimbola Owoade.
According to him, the Ooni remains the most supreme traditional ruler in Yorubaland.
Speaking in an interview with Vanguard, Elebuibon said the current tussle between the Ooni and Alaafin had no basis in Yoruba tradition, stressing that colonial interference and modern politics were responsible for the division.
“The Ooni is the father of all Yoruba monarchs, including the Alaafin. Traditionally, the relationship is like that of a father and son. The supremacy battle never existed until the advent of colonialism and later, political manipulation,” he said.
He said while the Oyo Empire rose to prominence under Oranmiyan in the 16th and 17th centuries, it did not diminish the Ooni’s position as the spiritual head of the Yoruba race.
“Oranmiyan’s exploits outgrew those of his father, but that never made him superior. The origin of the Yoruba race is Ile-Ife, not Oyo,” Elebuibon declared.
Ge said the British colonial authorities deliberately created rivalries among Yoruba monarchs to strengthen their control, citing the signing of treaties with the Alaafin while still recognizing the Ooni’s spiritual authority.
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On the modern dimension of the dispute, Elebuibon said, “This tussle is more of politics than history. Successive Oonis and Alaafins, especially Oba Sijuwade Olubuse and Oba Lamidi Adeyemi, fought bitter battles that nearly divided the Yoruba Council of Obas. Today, loyalists close to the thrones are fueling the current disagreements.”
He appealed to Oba Ogunwusi and the current Alaafin, Oba Abimbola Owoade, to put unity above rivalry for the progress of Yorubaland.
“It is not in the interest of our people globally for this supremacy conflict to continue. The Yoruba nation’s development depends on their cooperation,” he warned.
The Ifa priest also urged groups such as the Oyo Legacy to avoid inflaming tensions, insisting that no Oba should contest supremacy with the Ooni.
On resolving the dispute, Elebuibon pointed to Ifa divination as a spiritual tool. “Ifa has always provided solutions in times of crisis. The Ooni will soon embark on the Olojo Festival, where he will pray for peace in Yorubaland. I am confident this issue will be part of his prayers.”
He concluded by reminding both monarchs of their responsibility: “They went through their rites properly; they know the right thing to do. Those instigating conflict around them must allow peace to reign.”
Ooni most supreme traditional ruler in Yorubaland — Elebuibon
Feature
What happens when someone dies without a Will – Lawyer
What happens when someone dies without a Will – Lawyer
When a person dies, it is often said that they live on through the legacy they leave behind. But in Nigeria, that legacy can quickly become a source of bitter family disputes, legal entanglements, and prolonged court battles, especially when the deceased fails to leave a written will.
The issue of intestacy—dying without a will—remains a common and complex problem in Nigerian society, often due to cultural beliefs, religious uncertainty, and lack of awareness.
Sometimes, the struggle for properties of deceased persons can linger for so many years, a problem that a will could have solved. In some cases, even with the presence of a will, some families engage in very prolonged disputes, where they begin to contest the will of the deceased.
Many still view the drafting of a will as an invitation to death, a myth that legal experts have consistently worked to debunk.
In a chat with THE WHISTLER, legal practitioner Barrister Nelson Ilebor Kebordih explained the consequences of dying without a will, how Nigerian law handles such cases, and the importance of proper estate planning.
According to him, dying without a will creates a problem, but said the law has a way of creating a solution to the problem in a way that it will benefit all parties.
“Once a person dies, in Nigerian law, the person can either die testate or intestate When the person dies testate, it means they left a testamentary disposition that expresses their wishes after they’re gone. That’s what we call a will,” Kebordih said.
However, he noted that many Nigerians avoid writing wills due to cultural superstitions.
“People tend not to write their will because of the fear of death. They believe once they write their will, it means they are going to die. This belief is a big problem.”
“There is what we call conflict of law. The courts have to determine how to express the person’s afflictory disposition—in other words, how their property and goodwill will be managed.”
This process, Kebordih said, involves determining which system of law applied to the deceased: customary law, Islamic law, or English law. He however noted that there is a possibility he is not inclined to any law.
“If he had more than one wife and didn’t go to church, for instance, that points to him living under traditional laws, so the inheritance customs of his community would apply. If he was a practicing Muslim, Islamic law would apply,” he explained.
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“He might have one wife, not go to church, and yet not follow tradition either. In such cases, the Administration of Estate Laws of the respective state comes in. For residents of Abuja, for instance, the Administration of Estate Act governs such matters. The distribution of the estate then follows a hierarchy of relationships.
“If he leaves behind a wife, she inherits the estate. If both spouses are dead, the next in line are the children. If there are no children, the court looks to the parents, first the man’s parents, then the woman’s. Then it moves to siblings and so on, until no family members are left. In that case, the estate goes to the Attorney-General’s office and is managed by the government.”
On whether a will can be challenged or overturned in favour of someone excluded from it, the lawyer said “Once a will is regular, it binds everyone connected to it.”
“But if a beneficiary or family member is dissatisfied, they can contest the will in court. The court will then assess the validity of the will,” he added.
Kebordih however stated that validity can be questioned on several grounds. According to him, a key requirement under Nigerian law is that the will must be signed by at least two adult witnesses.
He said, “If one of these witnesses is also a beneficiary of the will, the court may void that portion of the document.”
“Also, Mental capacity is another crucial factor. If there is sufficient evidence that the person who made the will lacked the mental capacity to understand what they were doing, the court can invalidate the will or parts of it,” Nelson added.
He also pointed out that customary laws in some Nigerian states reserve special rights for certain family members, particularly the first son.
“There are some state laws that reserve the father’s land or family compound for the first son. Even if the will says otherwise, the first son’s rights under customary law can override that. So that place they buried his father, it belongs to the first son—nobody can challenge it.”
The lawyer therefore urged Nigerians to rethink their aversion to writing wills, stating that the lack of proper estate planning has caused irreparable damage to many families.
He said, “This customary bias we have about death is very bad. Most families today are fighting because the father did not leave a clear-cut disposition,” “Making a will does not mean you’ll die tomorrow. It simply helps preserve your estate, protects your legacy, and prevents unnecessary conflict.”
Kebordih emphasized that a will is “a testamentary disposition of a person with respect to the administration of his estate upon death.” Without it, families are left to battle it out, sometimes for years over properties, money, and inheritance.
As Nigeria’s population grows and family structures become more complex, writing a will has never been more important.
The legal system offers clear processes for both testate and intestate deaths, but families suffer most when nothing is put in place. In the end, writing a will isn’t a curse, it’s a final act of care, foresight, and peace
What happens when someone dies without a Will – Lawyer
Feature
Does Tiv man offer his wife to a guest in the name of hospitality?
Does Tiv man offer his wife to a guest in the name of hospitality?
There is a dangerous lie slithering through the undergrowth of ignorance, coiling its venom around the noble image of the Tiv man.
It is whispered, smirked, sometimes even declared by those too lazy to learn and too eager to label. That a Tiv man, in the name of hospitality, offers his wife to a guest.
What an evil tale. What a tragic misreading of kindness. What a slap on the face of honour. We Feed Our Guests, Not Trade Our Brides. Let it be said clearly, for the avoidance of doubt.
Hospitality is not promiscuity. Tiv men serve meals, not their marriages. You see, in Tivland, we believe a guest is a gift, someone to be welcomed with warm water, warm food, and warmer hearts. It is not uncommon to find a host slaughtering a prized cock or offering his last tubers of yam just to honour a visitor. Our doors are open wide, our pots deep with generosity, and our laughter loud around the hearth. But.The Tiv kitchen is open to guests. Our bedrooms are not. Wherever this ugly notion started, it reeks of ignorance soaked in mischief. The Tiv man is a lover of strength and passion. Yes. But more than that, he is fiercely loyal, often jealous in love, like a lion guarding the pride he built with his bare hands.
He will give you his best wine, but never his woman. His goat, his last bowl of pounded yam? Perhaps. But his wife? Never. Not for anything. Not for anyone.
To misinterpret the kindness of a Tiv host as an invitation into his home’s sacred inner chambers is not only wrong. It is profane. It is to mistake a palm tree for a ladder to the moon.
Food, not flesh, is how the Tiv welcome visitors. And who started this nonsense anyway? Who found laughter in the dirt and passed it off as truth? Was it the one stranger who misunderstood a smile? Or the traveller who mistook our cheer for consent? Whatever the case, let them hear this now. Our wives are not gifts. They are queens. Respect our women. Respect our culture.
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The Tiv man builds his family with pride, protects his home with honour, and holds his wife with the reverence of an ancestral shrine. His hospitality is deep, yes, but it ends at the threshold of his wife’s honour. Tiv hospitality ends at the table, not in the bedroom. We are not a tribe that plays with the sacred. In our proverbs, in our songs, in our dance love is guarded, marriage is sacred, and dignity is non-negotiable. We feed the body with food. We feed the soul with song. But we do not feed lust with our wives. So the next time you visit Tivland and are welcomed with laughter and a steaming bowl of pounded yam, remember this
The Tiv spirit welcomes, feeds the hungry, not the lustful. And if you should hear someone whisper that old wicked lie, you must rise. Rise and correct it. For to let it go unchallenged is to let smoke cloud the sun. Misunderstand our generosity, if you must, but never insult our dignity.
Now, it is from this same falsely peddled narrative this tired, baseless distortion of Tiv culture that the Chief of Defence Staff found a convenient and lazy escape route. Rather than confront the hard truth of his own failures on insecurity, he reached for an old lie. He claimed the Tiv people not only housed terrorists but even gave their women to them.
Think about that. A man entrusted with national security, in a moment that demanded leadership, chose instead to recycle a cultural smear, weaponizing it to explain away a tragedy he could neither prevent nor manage. He did not offer facts. He offered folklore, twisted and false, as justification for failure.
Does Tiv man offer his wife to a guest in the name of hospitality?
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