MY DAUGHTER, MY WIFE
Episode 1
I met my wife so many years ago. The spark had been undeniable, and a few months later, we were traditionally married.
While we dated, I hardly visited her because I am a very busy person, so I didn’t really get to know her siblings. I loved her from the time I met her, and really didn’t care to hear a thing about her past as she always wanted me hear.
For one, I didn’t want any information that is capable of making me troubled after our marriage, for I knew I must of a necessity marry Jane, I loved her too much not to.
After our traditional marriage, Jane was escorted to my house with her luggages and a beautiful little girl of about 12 years of age.
I was later to learn that the little girl, Madonna is my daughter. At first, I thought it was a joke, but the more the days passed, the more reality of my relationship with Madonna started unfolding.
My wife told me she had actually tried to let me know, but I didn’t allow her give me a full insight into what we were about to go into.
Jane told me she had given birth to Madonna while she was in her second year in secondary school. From what she told me, her neighbour, who was only in his third year then, had deflowered her, and continued to make love to her, until she took in for Jane.
“Okay Jane, so you wanted to tell me about this daughter of yours, but I didn’t pay attention. But how in God’s name does that make the child mine” I had asked Jane.
“You married me traditionally Andy, so automatically, the child has become yours” Jane told me.
“The child has become mine bawo(how)? How does the child whose father and roots I don’t know become mine because I married her mother?” I asked Jane, totally exasperated.
I was later to learn that by their culture, as long as I married her traditionally, any offspring that comes from her, whether before or after our marriage, irrespective of whose spêrm had made her pregnant, are all mine.
Now, all these wouldn’t have been a problem if Jane hadn’t began to complain of my long time absence from our home, and because I work into the night most days, and travel out of town for important business meetings sometimes, Jane my lovely wife started seeking attention in the hands of another man without my knowledge.
Seven years into our marriage, and we have been blessed with two children. We continued to have a rosy marriage, for after the initial few months into our marriage that my wife complained of missing me in her bed, she had accepted the reality that I am a busy man, or so I thought.
The problem now is, I came home one day after a two months journey and found out that Jane had been away from the house for three days.
One thing led to another, and I found out that her neighbour, whom she said impregnated her for the child that had been forcefully made my responsibility, had actually continued sleeping with my wife.
I was advised to get DNA tests for the other two kids she says are biologically mine, but it turned out none of them is mine. The ràscal is biologically their father.
She ran away from the house, and I was left with the children whom I have bonded with from birth, not knowing how to bring myself to chase them away. For though I am not their biological father, their culture says I am traditionally their father.
Madonna refused to leave my house because according to her, she is my daughter and had no where else to go to.
And so, she stayed back, taking care of her siblings and our home, and everything seemed okay, for though Jane had eloped with her lover, I didn’t have much issues with taking care of the children. Madonna was like a mother to them, so all I had to do was leave her with enough money to care for herself and her siblings.
Now, the problem is, I had returned home one night drunk, and met Madonna lying carelessly on the couch in the sitting room.
I don’t know if it’s because I haven’t had a woman for so long, but I lost control of my senses, and though she kept calling me father, asking me to stop, I made her a woman.
I became sober the next morning, apologized to her, promising never to try it again, but this little girl who I have always called daughter, says the only condition for not telling others what had happened is that we continue what we had started.
Afraid of what could happen if words got out, I continued with her, and just yesterday, she told me she was pregnant. And the little bràt wants me to marry her.
Now, how do I go about marrying a girl who is traditionally my daughter? Who am I paying the bride price to? And how is my grandchild going to turn out to be my child?
Please advise me on what to do, but don’t you dare ask me to stop sleeping with Madonna, because as I write this, I can no longer imagine a night without her on my bed. Call it whatever, but I can’t stay a day without playing with her firm and young brêast.
I don’t know if I can live on, if she stops having my entire length in her mouth, just before I begin the ride that ends with my progenies swimming inside her.
At my age, I do not have a biological child, and this is one of the reasons I know I can’t think of terminating the pregnancy. Madonna has given me a deadline to get her officially married to me, or I’ll lose her and the child.
What should I do?
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