Eeny Meeny Miny Moe, Stepmother or Father Mine?

I really can’t say at what point my dad married my stepmother into our home,  I was still too young to comprehend what was happening at that stage. I only remembered coming back from school one afternoon to see a woman with a heavy stomach smiling at me that way visitors smile at kids, I smiled back, there was something about her smile that makes you think she was your best friend, like the both of you share some secrets. Later that afternoon, my mum came to my room to make sure i was doing my homework, the fact that I was her last-born and her only son didn’t change anything, she treated me same way she treated my 3 elder sisters.

That day, she told me that the pregnant woman would be staying with us and that I was to be respectful and nice to her. I remembered asking my mum for how long and her eyes were suspiciously wet when she replied “please go and eat your food and stop asking questions” So we left it at that.


Over the years, my stepmother had 3 children for my dad. Initially, she was like any other Aunt and that was what I even called her…”Aunty”, life was still good, I was yet to experience what real polygamy was all about.

Then something happened one day,  I was around 15 then, I and my younger brother had some sort of disagreement which eventually led to some sort of mock fight…me dragging his shirt and he mine, when all of a sudden my stepmother barged out from the kitchen with a pestle still hot from the yam she was pounding, she yanked me away from my brother pointing the pestle at me and yelled “if you ever touch this boy in your life, I will kill you! Idiot”, and then proceeded to nudge me in the face with the pestle before dragging my younger brother with her back to the kitchen. I was so shocked from the outburst I didn’t feel the pain on my face until later that evening. That was the first of many bad experiences to come.


As time went on, she started manifesting her true self in little ways and as expected, my dad could see no wrong in her. My mum is gentle by natural, hates confrontations, she was always telling us to ignore her and my stepmother used this to her advantage.


I am a youth Corper now, serving in Ogun state. I now understand what polygamy is, many things had happen to reveal it to me. I had grown up to realise that the reason I didn’t understand sooner was because my older siblings and mother did a good job of shielding me from the realities  of it all.

But now I have seen the favouritism. When my father buys a car for my mother – it’s a car but for my step mum, it’s a jeep and usually comes with some lame explanation/excuse… “it was a second hand so it was very cheap” or “I collected it from some guy owing me” and such.

I and my immediate siblings went to a public school, while my step siblings did not only schooled in a private university abroad but were all provided with a car as they turned 20.

Ok,  these are all some painful shii but is that why I want to kill My stepmother? No, just wait for it.  We now know my step mother is devious, and that she was just bidding her time all the while we thought she was a good person, we now know she was behind all disappointing and foolish decisions my father took, and we already know when eventually my dad dies – I hope that is soon – we won’t be inheriting anything but truthfully I and my sibling don’t care.

More reasons to make our own money. We already resolved that if in the end the whole money and property go to her we would not even raise a finger.

Six months ago my elder sister had an accident, a hit and run that barely left her alive, she was rushed to the hospital and placed in the emergency ward, her right leg was badly crushed.

The doctor said it could be saved but she would need an urgent operation which would cost almost 2million Naira. None of us had that kind of money, I was still a youth corper and my sisters were just starting up in life.  We called our dad, he has moved with my stepmother and they were both living in Abuja while we stayed in Lagos, he was alarmed and concerned, told us to ask the doctor to start the operation immediately that he was going to transfer the money as soon as possible, he then asked for the doctor’s number. We were so relieved! My dad called the doctor and convinced him that money was indeed on it’s way.

My sister was wheeled into the theater and the doctor told us to wait at the waiting area, or even go home and refresh ourselves because it would be a while. My mum asked us to go and refresh while she stays and we all refused, we were still arguing about it 5mins later when my sister was wheeled right out of the theatre.

What happened? Is the operation over? What’s going on?

These were the questions we bombarded the doctor with,  he looked at us with pity and said – I will never forget – “your dad told us to cancel the procedure, he said he doesn’t have the money”

I couldn’t believe my ears, my sisters were as stunned as I was. I will always remember the look on our mum’s face, it was a look of resignation, like she knew what was gonna happen. Without uttering a word, she placed both hands on her face and cried bitterly.


That day, my sister did not only lose one leg, she lost her life. The sister that came back from the hospital few weeks later with one leg wasn’t the lively sister we were all used to.  Waking up in the hospital to one leg was a harsh reality she never recovered from, she pushed everyone away, had no tolerance for anyone, everyone was a harsh reminder of what she lost.

She hated my dad so much she would send him a hateful, spiteful and very insulting texts, making sure she includes my stepmother, they never visited once.  My mum did everything possible to help her but my sister sank deeper into depression, she lost her job, her boyfriend, and most of her friends, only true ones stayed.


I was in Ogun state, where I was posted, and we had just returned from CDS, I and my friends – when the call came…

…my sister is dead

She died of depression. My mum went to her room in the morning to help her with her morning business and she wasn’t breathing. Just like that.

Her funeral was a month ago, my dad didn’t come for the funeral because custom forbids it. He however came to the house to mourn, can you imagine that? He came to mourn someone he killed!  I almost killed him myself,  such was my rage that I was locked in my mum’s room. My stepmum didn’t come, relatives were shocked and called it pure wickedness, well,  to me,  that might have been the wisest decision she would make this year cos had she shown herself, all the padlocks in this world wouldn’t have saved her from me.

I’m a bit calm now, so I’m planning my revenge carefully, I don’t know how yet but one of them will surely pay, who knows… Might even be the both of them.