Her Sister’s Plight


Modupe shook her leg furiously in her seat, eyes shooting daggers at her 14 year old younger sister, kneeling in the center of the room.

“…I warned you” their aged mother said to the 14 year old, “when you were going to live with Modupe, I advised you to pay attention to you studies, didn’t I tell you?”

The 14 year old nodded, tears cascading down her cheeks.

“Oho!” the mother exclaimed, spreading out her arms, “Yet it is man you went to follow”

“Mama,”  Modupe interjected, “My own is that Wumni cannot have this baby under my roof. Ah ahn! Junior is just two, I can’t accommodate her na.”

“I understand..”

“Since she has refused to tell us who is responsible, she’ll have to carry this alone. Jide and I spent almost an hour talking to her but for where? All our tactics to get her to talk didn’t work so,”

“Ah! Omowun-mi!” the mother interrupted, “you want to useless yourself abi? 14 years Wunmi, 14 years!!” she sprung towards the 14 year old and began hitting her with her hands

The girl wailed, trying effortlessly to dodge her mother’s slaps. Modupe looked on satisfyingly, she was not going to stop her mother, not after the embarrassment the 14 year old had brought upon their family and the manner in which she had wasted the efforts and sacrifices, she Modupe and her husband had made for her.


By the evening of that day, Modupe gave her mother some money and left Ibadan for Lagos.

“How did it go?” her husband Jide asked her as soon as she stepped into their living room.

Modupe who was still upset at her sister sank into the sofa and broke down into  frustrated tears.

“Ah ahn” Jide remarked, smiling understandably. He rose from his chair to her sofa and pulled her into his embrace. “It’s okay” he consoled her.

“After everything we did for her” Modupe complained in between sobs, “now it is as if I’m a bad person but she made me do this..” she insisted, “If she didn’t go messing around to the extent of getting pregnant, I would never return her back to Ibadan..”

“Honey no one thinks that you are a bad person” her ever loving supportive husband assured her. “It’s okay. We did our best for her, it’s unfortunate she chose this path. Wipe your tears,” he swiped his thumb over her cheeks.

“She is my only sister, my mother’s last born”

“I understand, but you can’t blame yourself for her actions. It will all be alright, hmn?”

She sniffed, and then nodded against his shoulder.

“Cheer up”.


Omowunmi remained in Ibadan with her widowed mother. The teenager cried sad tears day and night, heart broken by the unwanted situation she had found herself in. She knew who her perpetrator was, but she was too afraid to say his name. So she kept him a secret – and all that he did to her. She endured her mother’s scornful looks and long hisses, all the while breaking on the inside, feeling caged, scared and worthless. She didn’t want any of these more than her family did. Every night she went to bed, the night mares of all that had been, haunted her.

It felt like the world was against her – her family were disappointed in her, her neighbors pointed mocking fingers at her and while her mates woke up every day and went to school, she stayed home, carrying a 6 month old pregnancy.

She wished he had taken her for an abortion, just like he did thrice before. That would have been better than this shame she had to endure, if only her sister hadn’t found out about the pregnancy before she did.

She hated him – for every pain he ever caused her, and she wondered what must be so wrong with her to have deserved such fatal blows.

Her heart was heavy, with no one to talk to, with nothing to do but cry. So she prayed – every night and morning, to the God beyond the clouds…

“Dear God, punish uncle Jide for raping me times without number. Punish his friends too. Dear God make him die – kill all of them. Dear God, help me” she would cry and recite.

One day Modupe took her children to visit her mother in Ibadan. Night time fell and Omawunmi believing to be alone as the entire family had gone to bed, went on her knees to begin her usual prayers

Modupe who had forgotten her phone in the sitting room, left her room and began to stroll on the corridor that led to the sitting room when she overheard Omawunmi’s tearful prayer. She paused, pressed her ear to the 14 year old’s door to try to make sense of her murmurings…

“Dear God, punish Uncle Jide for raping me times without number. Punish his friends too. Dear God make him die – kill all of them. Dear God, help me”

Shock swept through her body. Instantly, she turned the door knob and pushed the door open, startling the 14 year old to her feet. Both women stood in silence, eyes locked with each other. The shock and anger that overwhelmed Modupe caused her chest to begin to rise and drop unsteadily, and the 14 year old dropped her head down to her fingers, twiddling nervously against her chest.

“My husband?”

She nodded, keeping her head down.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

She shook her head, “I was afraid”

Modupe stared on at her, let seconds roll by and then she asked her, “How many times did he do this to you?”

“Since I was in Jss 1” she answered and Modupe swallowed hard, tears welling up in her eyes. Her heart broke for her sister as the reality of what that must have been like broke her heart.

“What did his friends do to you?”

“They took turns on me..”

“Where, when?”

“In the house, Uncle Jide passed me to them….they even..t-they e-e-even, entered my, m-my anus..” she broke down, unable to speak any further.

Tears streaked down Modupe’s eyes. She took two strides to stand in front of the 14 year old, pulled her into her embrace and together, they wept.


Jide pulled up into Zenith bank’s premises. He shifted his gear into park, grinning happily to himself. Last night when he got the debit alert of $20,000 marking the success of the deal he had worked so hard on, he could not wait for the day to break. Now he was here, alighting from his car, strolling confidently, smiling his way through the security entrance door and into the bank.

His account officer was expecting him; he had called him from the house.

Inside the bank, Jide walked into the account manager’s office and sat down as the man provided him with a foreign currency withdrawal slip. He made his withdrawal and was provided with two stacks of $10,000 dollars. Not difficult to conceal, he dropped the cash into his briefcase and made his way out of the bank.

He strolled to his car. As he unlocked the door, a lanky rough looking male approached him. Jide looked up at the man questionably and the man moved his jacket to the side to reveal the gun tucked in his trouser waist, widening his eyes at Jide “Get into the car” he commanded.

Jide stepped into the car, the man stepped into the back seat and another man appeared and hurried into the front seat.

Now holding the gun to his waist, Jide was made to drive to a deserted location where they dragged him down from the car. Ignoring his pleas to take whatever they wanted and spare his life, both men picked up metals and began to hit him on his legs, spurring insults at him and chanting happily as blood gushed from his broken knees.

Jide yelped in pain until he became unconscious

Dropping the metals to the floor, the men collected his phone, picked up his briefcase and made away with it.


Modupe got the call while she was sitting at her desk at her office.

“Where? How?!” she cried. “Is he okay?”

“Calm down madam, he is okay. Come to general hospital in Ajah, to the Intensive care unit..”

“Intensive care? Jesus!! Okay, o-okay, I’ll be there”

She dropped the call, hurried to her feet, into her car and sped to the hospital.

When she saw Jide, she broke down into tears. His legs were bandaged and held up on stirrups while he slept away.

“I’m afraid he may not be able to walk again” the doctor said to her later that day.

Heart broken, Modupe called her mother to relay the sad news, her mother cried with her, promising to be on the first bus to Lagos the next day.


Jide was discharged two weeks later from the hospital, in a wheel chair – unable to feel his feet.

Modupe took him home, determined to stand by her husband of 8 years, the father of her children and the love of her life.

She bath him, nursed him, prayed for his healing and fed him day and night. Every day she stood by him unwavering and Jide knew that he couldn’t have married a better woman, for while his friends had abandoned him, his job lost, his mistress who had professed undying love now disappeared into thin air, Modupe stood firm, besides him. Jide appreciated his wife, more than he had ever done. He found himself loving her all over again, just like he did when he first met her.


On a warm Friday morning, over two weeks into Jide’s return home, Modupe who had resigned her job to properly care for him and sent the boys to Ibadan to spend their holiday with her mother, woke up, prayed with Jide, wheeled him to the bathroom to brush his teeth and take his bath, dressed him up all the while reassuring him of her love. She made him a cup of dark chocolate, just the way he liked it. Showered and picked up her favorite brown bag which she had been steadily using for the past two weeks and dashed to the market.

Thirty minutes into her being gone, Jide called her as he began to miss her. He had come to find it difficult to have her away from his sight.

“I’m already on my way back” she consoled him, chuckling at his impatience.

“Hurry please, I love you” he said.

“I love you too”

She got home, dropped her brown bag on the bed next to Jide, placed a kiss on his lips then hurried out to the kitchen.

Jide who was lying supine, watching a documentary on the flat screen TV hung on the wall unintentionally caught something sitting in Modupe’s brown bag. The bag was unzipped making the items lying within visible to him.

He frowned and drew the bag closer to himself to confirm his sight. He spread the bag wide open and his jaw dropped as his eyes met with his snatched phone and $20,000. Two bundles of $10,000, exactly the way he had withdrawn it from the bank.

Fear gripped his heart, confusion enveloped his every frame. With trembling fingers, he reached for his cellphone which still had the pouch he had fixed on it. Not wanting to believe his eyes, he powered it on and with a somersaulting chest and open mouth, inputted his password and watched as the phone came alive.

“Modupe” he managed to mutter, then with a louder voice and confused tears dropping down his eyes, he yelled, “Modupe!”

She ran from the kitchen into the bedroom. At the sight of Jide holding his phone and looking like he had just been visited by ghosts, she stopped at the door and exhaled heavily, “It took you long to find that”

“What is this?” Jide demanded, his fingers still trembling against the phone.

“I was wondering how much longer I would have to wait for this moment, whew!” she said, strolling towards his bed

Jide stared on at her, petrified as much as he was flabbergasted, “It was you?” he couldn’t believe his own words, “I don’t understand it..”

Modupe smirked. She lowered herself down to the sofa opposite his bed,  and she spread out her arms on the armrest “I can’t tell you how relieved I am that this moment has finally come”

“Modupe why?” Jide asked, tears running down his eyes, “This dosen’t make sense, I thought you loved me, what did I ever do to you?”

“You slept with my sister!” she yelled furiously. She sprung up and hunched over him, poking a finger at his face “my only sister! You raped her, time and time again, you even passed her unto your friends like she was some worthless item yet all the while she was my sister!” she cried, tears running down her cheeks “my baby sister, my mother’s last daughter” She slapped her chest, “You did this to me, to my mother, you ruined her life. Different abortions and now she has a baby, your baby!” she sniffed, swiping the back of her palm across her nose and then straightening up to her feet

“I’m so sorry” a tearful Jide said, “I didn’t know what I was doing, the devil must have gotten into me, I’m so sorry”

Modupe sniffed again, calming her nerves, “When I found out, I asked her not to tell our mother, it would have killed her. My bags are packed, all of our bags, the boys, Wunmi, my mum, our passports are ready..”

“No Modupe” Jide shook his head, reaching out his hands to touch her. She stepped away and he fell from the bed to the ground.

“You always cheated on me, covering your tracks by pretending to be a sweet husband, and I forgave you, even when you didn’t know that I knew, but you took it too far this time…”

“Modupe please” he pleaded from the floor.

She went around the bed and collected the money into her bag. She removed the sim cards in both his phones and broke them.   

“Modupe if you leave me I will die” he cried, “I don’t have anybody…”

Ignoring his pleas yet shedding tears herself, she collected what was left of the items she had purposely left unpacked, carried her bag and walked out of the room

To start a new life with her sons, her mother and her sister, away from the confines of Nigeria.

The End.

Written by Ishegh Terundu Joy.



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