Life Uncut is a series dedicated to sharing the stories and real-life experiences of women, each as unique as the women who share them. We talk about the things you whisper to your group chat, the drama you swore you would never repeat, and the lessons you only learn the hard way. From the good to the messy to the emotional, this is where women tell it exactly as it is.
In this story *Ann, a 22-year-old student, shares her experience living with a single mother whose dating choices have left her in a predicament. She opens up about discovering these relationships, the questions and doubts in her mind, and how it impacts her outlook on dating.
Where it all started
I live in Lagos with my mother and Aunt as I’m currently looking for a job. My dad died very early when I was just five. I have very vague memories of him, and any knowledge I have of him was passed down from my aunt.
My mom never speaks of him. From what I’ve been able to piece together, their marriage wasn’t the best. He was controlling. She had a terrific job offer from a major corporation in the 2000s after giving birth to me, but he didn’t allow her to take it and forced her to be a stay-at-home mom, threatening divorce if she took it.
What I find so funny is that shortly after she refused the job, he died, leaving us penniless. His brothers came and shared what was left of his property. With my mom broke and with no job, we were forced to move in with her younger sister, hoping we could figure things out soon.
We’ve been there ever since.
Finding Out About Her Dating Choice
When I was younger, she always had male friends. There were “uncles” who used to come visit us every once in a while. Some are still in our lives even as of now.
The first I can remember was Uncle Obi. He used to work in a big media station, and they were always talking on the phone whenever she got back from work. One thing I’d say is that he was always nice to me. My earliest memory of him was the day he came over and drafted a weekly meal plan for me because my mom complained I was a picky eater. He took the time to get to know me, and I remember times when I’d wish my mom were just as nice to me. I always wondered why she never married him.
One day, I went through my mom’s BlackBerry looking for a game to play and found their text messages. I was still too young to comprehend this, but they were talking about his wife and children.
Maybe she felt guilt, perhaps he felt shame, I’m not sure who felt bad, but shortly after, I stopped seeing him around. But his name popped up now and then. When I got back to Lagos after school last year, he called me out and took me to dinner. They are still in touch.
Married Man #2
The second married man I discovered she was dating was called Mr. Bayo. I remember meeting him very clearly. We were all at my grandmother’s house for a birthday party when he came. Everyone was excited to see him, and I was confused. I was maybe 12 then. He got me snacks and a new dress and carried me on his lap while they talked. It felt too familiar, and I hated every moment of it.
What made it even worse was when he said that he had a daughter my age. I remember this very clearly because in my head I was like, “Who is this one?” Later, I overheard my aunt and mom talking about it. I got to understand that he wanted to marry my mom when they were younger, but my grandfather wouldn’t agree because of his tribe. He eventually found a rebound and married her shortly after.
After that day, I started hearing his name more. If money were tight, I’d see his name pop up on her phone. I never got full-blown confirmation like with Uncle Obi. But somehow, deep inside me, I just knew.
Another confirmation of their affair was his poor attempt to step into my late father’s shoes by giving me advice that did not concern him. After my WAEC results came out and I was thinking of writing JAMB the following year, he had the effrontery to call me and give me advice. Like?!
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The Worst Of The Three
This one is, to me, the worst one of all because it hit too close to home.
My mom works as a counselor at one of the popular Lagos legacy colleges. I’ve had several friends who passed through that particular school, so they know her. Based on the nature of her job, she knows the parents of these children as well.
Once again, I was going through her phone to send data to my phone (don’t judge), and I saw a name pop up on WhatsApp—it was my distant friend’s last name. He had graduated from the school where my mom worked, along with his siblings, so my mom knew them very well. We used to hang out a lot after secondary school because my best friend dated his friend.
I knew what I was going to find, but somehow, I still found the courage to open the message. This was very recent. The messages started off innocent with “Have you gotten home?” and then talks about how much “fun” they had the last time they met. He spoke about how she blew his mind and how much he missed her. All that rubbish. He even had the mind to text her “muah“. A married man with three grown children.
I remember throwing the phone away in shock, and luckily, it didn’t crack. When I had regained composure, I opened it again and wiped all traces that I was there. My mom came into the room shortly after, and I acted like I didn’t see anything. We spoke normally, or I mean, what was I supposed to say? She’s the girl in the relationship. If anyone’s at fault, it’s the married man taking out his time to send virtual kisses to a woman who’s not his wife.
Since then, I stopped talking to the friend because I couldn’t bear the way I felt. I felt guilty, after all, I was eating from the side chick’s portion of his father’s money. But I just felt weird and somehow inside.
One day, this distant friend posted his parents looking loved up on their anniversary. It made me feel like throwing up, so I blocked him, and since then, I’ve moved on.
Honestly, this just showed me that men are truly scum.
Do I Disapprove of Her Choices?
I have never confronted my mom, and I don’t think I ever will, to be honest. The closest I’ve ever come is wishing for people in church to know who she really is, and even then, I felt bad.
So, the thing is, my mom is a minister in the Church. If the truth about what she was doing, especially with her holier-than-thou attitude, came out, she’d be ruined. Sometimes I want to take up that mic and just expose her. But I can’t because I love her. And I wouldn’t want her to experience that. Everyone has their secrets.
I’m a chronic supporter of women’s rights and wrongs, and this extends to my mom. I think everyone has their sins and shortcomings, and this is just merely one of hers.
I wouldn’t say I disapproved of her; that’s a strong word. The better way to put it would be reluctantly tolerating them. Even with the situation with my friend, I was more shocked by the hilarity of it than by my disapproval.
Also, no one in my family knows of her relationships. She isn’t close enough with my aunt for her to be asking those kinds of questions. She’s an adult; no one precisely monitors her movements.
Plus, even if they did, I don’t think they would address it. It seems too wild even to consider. Imagine hosting a family meeting over a daughter who sleeps with married men.
Does it change how I see or love men?
I want to come across as nonchalant, but that would be a lie. Yes, it has, but not in any concrete ways I can pinpoint. The entire way she raised me has shaped how I see men and love. My first and only relationship to date helped me move past some things, but looking back, I can still see the subtle influences of my upbringing, her actions, and the lack of a father in my life.
One thing I will say, though, is I don’t fully trust in the concept of marriage. It would be nice to have a partner and children, but there’s something about the foreverness of it all that makes me feel anxious. Even in my last relationship, I never thought that far, and when the subject was raised, I tried so hard to change it.
I also don’t believe in dating for marriage, especially when young. I think people change and grow, and no matter how much I love someone, my husband could easily be one of those men.
And no, there’s nothing like a fear of ending up like her; in fact, my capacity for judging women in this scenario is zero. The blame always, always, lies with the man.
Do I want to sleep with a married man? No.
Would I kill myself if I started doing that? Also no.
Have I promised myself I won’t sleep with a married man? I haven’t even considered doing that.
There are so many more things about my mother that are flawed. I honestly don’t find myself thinking about this often, but I love her.
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