Understanding Girlfriend [mu-mu]

Noun {English, Nigerian slang}

A woman who has no boundaries in her relationship. “Suffer” is her middle name.




“Yes, pastor Bolaji?” I answered, looking around me before a smile formed on my lips.

Pastor Bolaji and 7 other white garment church members stood over me, with grunting faces and long whips the length of a mango tree squeezed in between their palms.

“Do you know why you’re here?” Pastor Bolaji asked me.

My smile grew wider, “Yes. For deliverance.”

“You killed a father, mother and their unborn child.” He recalled, “And you were dancing Zazu over their dead bodies.” 

Aradugbo (Zehh). Tun tun ti de oh. ZaZu (Zehh). Opoleti.” I hummed my favourite jam.

“She is speaking the demon language.” One of women whispered in agony.

Pastor Bolaji squatted in front of me and moved closer to study me.

“Arike, before we beat this demon out of you.” He said, “Tell us one thing. Why did you kill pastor Kayode and his family?”


Kayode Olajide was my first boyfriend.

The love of my life.

My needle in a haystack. 

The husband of my destiny.

Kayode had lived in London for the past 10 years and only came back to Abuja for his uncle’s funeral. But when he met me at the funeral, he had a change of heart and stayed in Abuja longer than he anticipated.

I moved into Kayode’s apartment a week after I met him. I was his nurse, cook, dishwasher, washing machine and first class ashewo

Kayode’s uncle was like a father to him and all he needed in this season was comfort and love. He said my love was the only thing that cured his grief.

Kayode did not have a job in Abuja, so I paid for everything. After all, it became my house too.

Anything he wanted, my lover must get.

Fridays were his favourite days. I would wake up in the morning to wash his clothes before going to work. After work, I would run to Wuse market to buy food stuffs for his Friday night house parties and cook for his friends.

After all, your girl was the only good cook he knew in Abuja. Nobody else’s food tasted like home.

After a long evening of toiling and sweating in the kitchen alone, I would sit in the corner of the parlour and watch Kayode and his friends play loud music, smoke weed, play card games, play truth or dare and drink alcohol till their bodies couldn’t function any longer. 

Some nights, Kayode’s friends would dare the runz girls they invited to give “the host” a lap dance or enter his room to do Seven Minutes in Heaven.

Never once did I stop Kayode from having his fun time. After all, he was the host, so who was I to interfere with his best nights?

There was even a time he locked himself up with one of the girls in our room all night till daybreak. I didn’t want to interrupt his fun time, so I slept on the parlour floor that night and cried myself to sleep.

“He is still in mourning, you hear?” I would console myself over and over again, “Complaining will only hurt him more.”

Time healed wounds. When Kayode would heal from his uncle’s grief, I would still stand next to him and he would finally see my worth.

He would see I was not one of those scatter-scatter mouth girls on Twitter who shouted, “Good girl no dey pay!”. The ones who nagged too much. The ones who asked for money. The ones who demanded fancy chinko food. The ones who demanded for iPhone, designer bags, Dubai trips and all those expensive rubbish. Why would I run my man’s pocket dry?

I was a simple girl. A lover girl for life.

Men love peace.

And I, Arike Olufunke Bamidele, was my baby’s peace.

I was the perfect 100 yards wife material he has always dreamed of. Even his friends called me “our favourite wife”. No woman pass my level.

No woman.


One day, Kayode came back home from a house visit. But this time, he was not alone.

A pregnant woman and 2 boxes stood next to him.

“Arike, meet the mother of my unborn child- Eniola.” He pointed at the young dark-skinned woman with giant belly next to him, “She gonna be staying with us till our baby arrives. You feel me?”

The world came to a halt.

This must be a joke.

My unborn child.

Our baby?

Live in my- our- house?!

I thought I was going to collapse. I could feel my heart racing uncontrollably and my lungs about to explode.

“You aiit, fam?” He asked me, his eyes looking at me in concern.

I could see it in his eyes. Worry. Not for me, but his baby. This baby meant so much to him. 

I remained silent for a moment before I let out a loud laughter.

Who am I? Who am I to take away his precious baby from him?

He was being a good father after all.

“Yes, sweetheart.” I smiled, “She can stay as long as she needs.”

At least, before the wedding.

“Sweetheart?” Eniola looked at us in confusion.

Kayode glanced at both of us and let out a nervous chuckle.

“Arike is my blud.” He lied to her.

Blud, gini? 

Eh me, your bro?

Before I could react, Kayode dragged me into the kitchen, leaving Eniola behind.

“Who is your bro?!” I yelled at him.

“Keep your voice down, woman!” Kayode tried to cover my mouth, “That’s ma baby mama, innit. How can I tell her I have a girlfriend. Wanna kill ma baby?”

“What about me? Do you want to kill me too?”

He laughed and looked at me in surprise, “Since when you have mouth to talk, Arike? Just stick to being a robot. It suits you more.”

My mouth gaped open, “Kayode-”

“Enough bants, bruv. No baby is gonna die in my crib.” He began walking away, “You feel me. That’s ma child, innit?”

Innit your ass.

Kayode, you do me like this? Ahh.

6 months I have toiled and sweated with you. I never caused you trouble. Not even once. 

I have stayed by your side when no one else was there. I have wiped your tears when no one else was looking. I have washed your boxers to the very last stain.

How can you do this to me? Choose your baby over me? Baby that doesn’t even know you exist.

Kayode came back into the kitchen and I looked at him with tears in my eyes.

Unbothered, he said, “Arike, you gonna be sleeping on the couch tonight.”


Kayode became a completely different person when Eniola moved in. He was more attentive and caring to her needs than he had ever been with me.

Every morning, Kayode and Eniola would do devotion together. They would go out for dinners and events together. He would borrow money from me for her upkeep. He would give me her clothes to wash. Made me cook all their meals. Wash their toilets and clean the room. 

Even his fun Fridays became spiritual Fridays. Games night turned bible study.

It turned out that Kayode was a youth pastor in London.

When Kayode got tired of Eniola’s pregnancy rants, he would sneak into the parlour to join me in the middle of the night. We would make love on the couch and it was in those moments that I was reminded of why I couldn’t let him go. His dick pass manpower. A fire I could not resist. Which other man would make love to me this hard?

He would always tell me, “I miss when it was just you and me. You brought out the fun side of me.”

My heart would flutter in those moments. Like I said, no woman sabi pass my level.

Eniola, it is only a matter of time. After you born that baby, you will disappear from our lives forever. I am Kayode’s one and only. You are only just a squatter and waste of space.

One hot afternoon, Kayode had asked me to prepare Efo Riro soup and Pounded Yam. To the point he even bought wooden mortar and pestle for me to pound the yam the traditional way.

His parents were in town and he needed to make an impression.

This was my time. My time to make a mark as the future Mrs Arike Olufunke Olajide.

Kayode’s parents arrived in time for the dinner. His father was a reverend in a Pentecostal church in London. The same church Kayode was the youth pastor.

To make my mark as the perfect daughter-in-law, I did everything to help them. Served the food, fetched water, washed the dishes and just about everything every mother’s dream daughter would do.

When I returned to the kitchen with the last set of dishes, I felt a sharp pain on my back, causing the plates to fall on the ground.

Kayode’s mother rushed to the kitchen to help pick up the plates.

“Take it easy, my dear.” She consoled me as I winced from the pain, “I’ve always told Kayode to take it easy with the house girls.”

House girl?

I frowned at her, “Mummy, I am not Kayode’s house girl.”

She looked at me in confusion, “You’re not? His wife just told me you’re the house girl.”

My body froze that instant. What the fuck is this woman talking about? Wife-

Eniola ran into the kitchen, “Mummy, is everything okay?”

“Eniola, kiloshele? Why did you lie to me that Arike is your house help?” 

Then it dawned on me.

Eniola was Kayode Olajide’s wife.

The entire fucking time.

I dropped the tray from my hand. 

I rushed to the parlour to meet Kayode, sitting next to his father. I cannot believe my ears.


Before I could start my sentence, I found something shiny on Kayode’s left hand that I had never seen before. A silver ring. A wedding ring.

Ah! Ah! Kayode has finished me.

Kayode has finished me oh!

That was the height of it. I no go do understanding girlfriend again. I no go do wife material again. Kayode has used me finish. 

All I wanted to do in that moment was carry knife and stab everybody in that house. Be it reverend or prophet. Everybody here must die.

“You aiit, fam?” Kayode asked me, coming to stand in front of me.

I imagined the 100 things I could do to him right now. Slit his throat, strangle him, pluck his eyes, break his head with the mortar stick.

But I did what I did best.

I smiled, “Yes, everything is okay, sir.”

I played along.


All night, I thought about everything I did for Kayode. All the smelly boxers I washed, the hours I stood to cook, the sores on my body from overworking, the sleepless nights, the money I spent on his upkeep and his house, and sacrificing my whole self just to be called Mrs Olajide. 

I felt suffocated all through the night. My heart felt like it was sinking into a deep dark hole.

Kayode… Kayode… Ah.

It took me all night to decide what I was going to do with Kayode and Eniola next. And there was only one thing left to do.

That morning, I woke up very early to prepare Ewa Agoyin with fried plantain. Kayode’s favourite. 

For the first time, I joined Kayode and Eniola to eat breakfast in the parlour. I watched as they devoured the food like it was the last meal they would ever eat in their lives.

I smiled.

Maybe it was.

Kayode began to choke first. He sensed something was off as he squeezed his neck, trying to gag out the food from his throat. But it was too late.

He fell to the ground, shaking violently and releasing white foam from his mouth.

Then his body froze like biscuit. No movement, no breathing.

“Kayode!” Eniola screamed and stood up. Before she could reach him, blood gushed out from under her nightgown. 

She looked down at her bleeding legs and screamed at the top of her lungs.

“My baby-”

She began choking too.

Her eyes widened in agony and she turned her body to me, beckoning for help.

I sat on the couch, my legs crossed as I sipped my tea in the corner.

I watched as she fell to the floor and began shaking violently till she could no longer move.

After a brief moment of silence, I got up and stood over Kayode and Eniola’s dead bodies lying on a pool of their baby’s blood on the floor.

A wave of peace swept over my chest. For the first time in a long time, I could finally breathe. 

“Kayode Olajide.” I whispered his name one last time, “Greet the devil in hell for me.”

With that, I moved over to turn on the TV. My favorite jam, Zazu Zeh by Portable began playing on Soundcity channel.

I exhaled in relief. 

Indeed, this was truly my time to shine.

Aradugbo (Zehh). Tun tun ti de oh (Zehh).” I broke into legwork dance, “ZaZu (Zehh). Opoleti (Zehh). Oyękętimagbo.”

And that, pastor Bolaji, was the end of my wife material tenure.

Beat me now.

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. All characters, locations, organizations and incidents appearing in this blog are fictitious.

Follow my Instagram page @hjthestoryteller for more updates on my blog.

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  • Mr Green Shirt
    Posted August 15, 2023 3:35 pm 0Likes

    Incredible 🔥

    • Husseina Jafiya
      Posted August 28, 2023 11:36 am 0Likes

      Thank you! ❤️

  • Wendy.
    Posted September 19, 2023 12:17 pm 0Likes

    So interesting😂.

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