Broken marriage
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.
Vanguard
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