My boss slept with my wife, her sister and their mother

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.