Lesson Teacher By Fisayo Talabi

Onyeka had gotten married faster than any of her friends had. She had been only twenty and in her final year at the University. 

She'd made plans...

• To graduate with a first class degree in      
   her department. 

• To build a career in Chartered              
   accounting and finance before age 25.

 ....and a lot more. 

She hadn't been married off by force or by pre-planned arrangements by her parents. No. It was a wilful decision. She had met her husband when she was only eighteen. She had been in the executive team of her department and they had planned a career programme which needed sponsorship and the involvement of finance organizations. 

The moment she had walked into his office and started to discuss the department executives' proposal, he had fallen in love with her, so he claimed. He had said he loved that she was so young and ambitious, and that he loved intellectually strong women. 

Fast forward eight years later. 

Onyeka sat in living room of her matrimonial home, watching on CNN the woman she had always wanted to be; Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala. Her three year old was crying and wailing loudly, because her five year old had wrecked her doll. Her seven year old was eating his lunch, filling the floor with orange grains of jollof rice. Their voices drowned every word Ngozi was saying on Tv. 

Her husband had promised she could pursue a career after they got married and after she had graduated. He had promised to get her a good place of primary assignment for NYSC, but she had gotten pregnant and he made her stay at home. After the second year, she still didn't have a job. He always said he was working on it. Then, one day, he said he wanted her to nurse all the kids first. 

Now, it was eight years gone, and time had passed her by. Graduate trainee programmes had an age cap of age 27. She was 28. 

Her husband was never home. He was at the peak of his career, receiving this or that award, for financial excellence. At first, he used to take her along to those award dinners. But after she had started to add on weight, and for some other reasons, he stopped inviting her. 

This day, he was away again, at Ghana. She looked at her kids. Her husband had said he didn't want househelps, so she was alone in taking care of the home. She had screamed and yelled at them, but nothing seemed to change. She sighed. She looked at herself in the oval antique mirror in the living room. She looked plain, with strands of due african hair falling over her face. Her boobs sagged already, and her tummy followed suit. Onyeaka knew she had lost her self. 

The door bell rang. She knew it was her son's lesson teacher. She brushed her hair with her hands and went to get the door. They exchanged pleasantries and the twenty nine year old lesson teacher called her "Ma". 

The following day, Onyeaka decided to change her looks. She needed for someone to call her beautiful. And the only man available, was lesson teacher. 

After days of changing looks and wearing   push up bras and lower necked tops, lesson teacher finally started to call her Onyeka, although on her request. 


Her husband had been at South Africa. She had planned everything. She would take the kids to her neigbours, and then sneak into the house. She did just that, and as she walked back into the house, lesson teacher was waiting. She smiled, pulling him along, inside the house. 

Lesson teacher started to teach her many many lessons she hadn't learnt in a  really long time, in the bedroom. 

She had gone to the bathroom to wash up, and in a few minutes, she was back on the bed with him. He had fallen asleep. She lay beside him and kissed him but he didn't move. She placed her head on his chest, breathing in his scent with fulfilment and satisfaction. Her head had been on his chest for about five minutes when she noticed there was no movement, and no heartbeat. 
She jolted up and slapped his face. He didn't wake up. She felt his pulse. There was no pulse. 

The only pulse she heard was the constant knock on the door of the bedroom. Her conscience had made her lock it before the intimacy even if no one was home. 

She heard her husband's voice. He was knocking, and then, slowly, she heard him insert the key hole, and turn the door knob. 

*for more short stories please visit


  1. Madam fisayo, d suspense killer, am waitin 4 d rest ooooo. Good job u re doing. God bless u

  2. liltee6/27/2014

    well done Fisayo!!!

  3. Anonymous6/27/2014


  4. OMG...... i was left hanging.
    this is an awesome piece
    The Beautiful Eagle

  5. kemisola6/27/2014

    abeg con finish wetin you start o... and babe what's wrong with our story na THICK-thin lines, for the past two days no show... abeg dis suspense is killing.... WELL DONE FISSY

  6. biaaa fisayo i no like this kin thing ooooo i hate suspence bikonu come back and finish it oo........lovely writeup

  7. Anonymous6/27/2014

    See suspense. Nice write up. Meanwhile av finally shared my own experience on d post of "trying 2 connect wit d woman dt ws raped by her bubby". I pray sm1 is encouraged.

  8. Olufunmi6/27/2014

    wowwww. my heart was banging faster than usual......nice writeup ma

  9. Anonymous6/28/2014

    e don shele

  10. Sayo,I love ur writes up but it is high time u stop giving me sleepless night trying to calculate what later happen and u never care to finish it up, lolz

  11. Anonymous12/18/2016


    what kind of explanation does she want to give??????????


Post a Comment

Feel free to email us with comments, suggestions, recipe ideas, or pretty much anything!
Contact Email:

Most comments are by other blog readers. Always seek Professional Help First.
“As an Amazon Associate I earn a little commission when you shop from links placed on this blog.”