The story of my life is a lesson to mothers of our days. The title of my story would have been better if it was “The Carelessness Of My Mother”, but I chose this title for some reasons.
My mum told me to stop sleeping in her room since I was two years old neither will I sleep in the children’s room but my father’s room. At a time, everyone started calling me the wife of my father, “iyawo baba e”. I grew up to understand what love is all about because my father showed me unreserved love. Sometimes I wouldn’t sleep except I sleep on my father’s chest; his chest became my comfort and bed. My father cannot withstand anyone beating me, not even my mother. The major quarrels I witnessed between my father and my mother were because my mother beat me and my father was not happy about it. There were times they kept malice for days just because of me.
My father wass a successful engineer, a tall handsome man with charming voice. He sings in the choir. He is such a nice man that all and sundry will love to be with because he is also caring. He is tender hearted and jovial. He gives me virtually everything I had ever wanted, including those that were detrimental to my growth as a girl child. There were many things he bought for me without my mother’s knowledge. He had packets of chocolate under his bed that my mother wasn’t aware of for many years. He served me two or three chocolate every night before sleep.
I love playing with my father’s beards because they were well la!d around his jaw. I sat on his lap and played with his beards anytime I was angry; it had a way of pacifying my anger. When I turned six, I realized that anytime I sat on my father’s laps he always had erection. As a child, I never knew what erection was or what it meant because we never had a brother neither did anybody told us anything about erection. I loved it when I see his manhood struggling around his boxer. Then I began to play with his manhood anytime I see it rise. My father loved it when I played with it but he will never allow me do it whenever my mother was around. My father’s manhood became my toy and any day I didn’t play with it, he reminds me. “Nike you’ve not played with daddy’s toy”. When he noticed my mother may get to know one day, we restricted the toy play only to bedtime.
Fast forwarding, when I became ten, my father will instruct me to sU-Ck his manhood until he e--------s. That continued until I was thirteen. It became an everyday affair, no sU-Cking, no chocolate. I became so addicted and inseparable to my father. Nobody ever educated me that what I was doing with my father was wrong. He kept assuring me of his love towards me. Of course, I had no doubt because he showed it. Anytime my father traveled, I will be sick all through and get well as soon as he arrived. My love for my father was exceptional. He could tolerate my excesses to a fault. My father was a good man I knew......