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THE UNFAITHFUL WIFE Story by Ebube Uwuze

Episode 10.

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It seemed the most natural thing to do. With my wife having cheated on me, and now the revelation that I was not the biological father of my children whom I so much loved, I felt there was nothing left in the world for me.

The thought that my children, Peter and Pamela were not mine biologically was killing me more than the fact that I caught my wedded wife in bed with another man. How could I accept that Peter and Pamela were not my children? I wept like a child while thinking of the best way to take my life. I didn’t have a gun. But if I had, could I shoot myself in the head as some other people do? I knew I couldn’t. Then I thought of committing suicide by hanging but I knew I couldn’t do that too. All the methods of committing suicide I had heard others use did not appeal to me. I wanted a painless death.

It was unbelievable that I was thinking about suicide. I could remember the many times I had described those who took their own lives as stupid people. I had boasted time and again that nothing will ever make me take my own life. I could also remember the many times I had counselled people against committing suicide. Yet, there I was contemplating suicide.

Suddenly, my thoughts were rudely interrupted by a knock on the door. I knew immediately who it was. “Who is it?” I asked “It is me” I heard my house-help reply. It had to be either her or my driver. They were the only people around me now. “What do you want?” I asked. “Sir! We want to talk to you” “About what?” I asked again “Sir, we have come to submit over resignation letters to you,” I heard her say.

“You are quitting?” I asked, shocked. “Yes sir. There is nothing more for us to do here so we are quitting,” I heard my driver, John, say.


Suddenly, I felt calmness fall upon me. I felt it was okay if my driver and house- help want to leave. I did not see it as a betrayal. I saw it as a logical conclusion of events. My wife had left me. My children had been taken away from me – no, the children were not mine after all. It was therefore natural for those who are not that close to me as my wife and children who have left, to want to leave too.

“Leave the resignation letters on the table,” I said. “Okay sir,” I heard them both say. Then they added, “bye”. “Bye” I said back.

After a while, I knew I was now truly all alone. I did not feel sorry for myself. I felt empty. I felt I had never lived and there was nothing to live for.

As a staunch Christian, it was amazing how I forgot to pray as I had counselled countless others to do. The last thing on my mind was prayer. I was not thinking about God. And, when I finally started thinking about Him, I started asking questions.

How could He have allowed me to live the lie all this while that Peter and Pamela were my children? How could He have looked on while my wife got herself screwed by another man on my marital bed? Why did He create me infertile, as the test at the hospital showed? Suddenly, He didn’t seem to be the God I knew. I was not angry with Him. I simply felt empty too.

Thirty minutes or so after my driver and my house-help were gone, I decided to go find out what they had written down for me in their resignation letters. I got up, went to the bathroom to wash my face. But, I didn’t. What the hell—why should I be bothered about how my face looks, more so when I was the only person in the house.

However, I was startled by my image in the bathroom mirror. I did not look like myself. To me, I looked like a junkie. I smiled. The smile looked like a sneer. I burst out laughing at myself and crying at the same time as I went to my bedroom door. I opened it. All was quiet. Then I stepped outside. As soon as I did that, I saw them.


To be continued…..

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