Connect with us


BN Prose: Whip of Fate by Tomilola Aderibigbe



A confused and tired Kazie arrived Ibadan one hour later than her scheduled time of arrival. The journey had seemed short but physically, she had been exhausted for a long time.

It was not her fault. She had been closing late from her office for the past three weeks. The night before she was supposed to travel, she had left the office by 9.30pm. Thankfully, Kola her colleague had waited to take her home. He lived some few streets away from hers.

Travelling was not part of Kazie’s favourite activities but this time, she felt she needed a break. She had heard Ibadan was a peaceful city. It was surprising she had never visited. All her life, she had shuttled between Lagos and Enugu.

From Challenge car-park where the bus she boarded from Lagos had dropped her off, she took a cab straight to the branch she was supposed to report.

Kazie was actually surprised by how early the Ibadan branch closed. She had worked at various Branches of the new generation banks all around the country and this was the earliest she had ever closed. “Life is getting better, why did I not ever like to travel”, she happily thought to herself as she packed her files and shutdown her lap top.

She began humming Obiwon’s “Obi mo” as she swung her well rounded hips towards the door of her office.  “Aunty, are you ready to leave now?” Femi the driver asked as he took both her handbag and laptop bag. He had been waiting outside her office.

“Yes, I am” Kazie replied as she hurriedly tried to squeeze some papers in a small compartment of her laptop bag. She had been having many surprises. This driver not only spoke very good English but was also quite good looking. She had expected to see some elderly man with a thick Ibadan accent, but this was a very welcomed surprise.

Kazie stepped out to the carpark with Femi, they had been walking together, taking same steps like they were walking down the aisle like a bride and her groom. She stole a glance at Femi and observed him from head to toe; he was juggling the car keys with his long, well manicured -looking fingers as he strode along. “This guy is not bad looking sha,” she mused, a silent cheeky smile stretching out the corners of her mouth. In his well fitted tailored suit, slightly afro haircut and about 5”9 frame, he looked every inch like a real banker.

“Aunty,” Femi was saying, “Have you ever visited Ibadan? He asked.

“Ibadan? Mbanu,”  Kazie replied. “This is my first time and I am glad I came around. This city is so peaceful, a perfect get-away from the hustle and bustle of Lagos.”

Five minutes later, Femi was driving out of the premises. Kazie had settled in the passenger seat beside Femi with her seatbelt securely strapped. It had rained that afternoon; and she wound down her glass and breathed in deeply. She enjoyed the fresh and clean smell of rain; it was like a tranquilizer for her.

The roads were quite free from the bank to her hotel in Challenge, despite the fact that it had just rained. The rain had also washed the roads free of the brown, rocky soil which was dominant in the city. Some parts were even eroded. Not typical of Lagos, Kazie observed.

“Where is this place called?” She asked Femi.

“Oke-Ado,” he replied. “I want to drive through to Molete then we go straight on to Challenge where your hotel is.”

In 10 minutes, they were at the hotel. Femi conveyed Kazie’s luggage to the reception and left immediately with a promise to pick her early enough for work the next day.

The Hotel receptionist was extremely nice.  Even though they spoke Yoruba to her until they noticed the blank expression on her face. Unfortunately despite spending nearly half her life in Lagos, Kazie’s Igbo upbringing had not allowed her to pick up on any Yoruba whatsoever. Kazie paid her deposit and was shown to her clean and tastefully decorated room.

“These Yoruba’s surely have good taste”`. She thought as she switched on the 42inch LCD TV mounted on the wall.  Just as she settled on a channel to watch her phone rang. It was her sister.

“Nneoma, ke kwanu” she started off and spent the next 20 minutes on the phone with her sister.


A few days later, Kazie was on her way to the bank with Femi.  Both were silent, the only distraction in the car was Omawumi’s “Today na Today” which was playing softly from a Radio Station.  Kazie could not still define the attraction she felt towards Femi, and of course he was aware of it also.

She replayed the previous day’s events. Femi had dropped her at the hotel, she suggested he come upstairs to her room, she was quite lonely and needed the company, although she wasn’t quite sure the exact sort of company Femi would be.

Her room was on the first floor so Kazie suggested they use the stairs instead of the lift. An awkward silence enveloped them both as they took each step towards her room. Kazie really did feel uneasy about asking a driver up to her room but Femi didn’t seem like any ordinary driver. She could feel his gaze on her all the way up the stairs, an electric energy building as they took each step. She reached into her bag to bring out her room keys, her hands seemed to have developed a mind of their own as they kept shaking anytime she tried to put the keys into the keyhole.

“Kazie, let me help”. Femi offered. He was wondering why she was acting like she had never been with a man before. Kazie noticed He no longer called her “Aunty”.

It seemed like ages before the door finally swung open. Kazie managed to place her things on the chair while she rummaged round her room looking for nothing in particular. Femi was resting on the door, his legs crossed and his arms folded. He continued to observe her as she rummaged around the room like a headless chicken. At first he thought this was a bad idea. What could he possibly be doing in his ‘madam’s’ hotel room? But the tight skirt she was wearing gave him other ideas. Kazie finally settled on the edge of the bed looking at him. She must be crazy. A driver! This is one secret that she would have to carry to her grave. Femi finally came towards her, “should we order something to drink”, he asked. He was trying to put her at ease. He really was a sweet guy. “No, I have some drinks in the fridge”. Kazie made to get up only to find herself standing face to face with Femi. He kissed her then. His kiss was soft, simple and sweet. She put all common sense aside and kissed him back. Their lips locked in the madness of their union. He ran his finger through her hair as he begun burying kisses at the nape of her neck.  Kazie slowly began to forget who and where she was.

A soft tap on the door brought her firmly back to her senses as she pushed Femi aside and answered the door.  “Who is it” she said half annoyed by the interruption. “Aunty, I don bring your clothes o.” Kazie had forgotten all about the laundry man in the hotel. He had promised to get them back to her that day by 7pm. She checked her wristwatch, it was ten minutes past seven. Hurriedly, she smoothed her clothes and hair, and began searching for her wallet.

Barley five minutes later after she had dismissed the laundry man, she turned back into the room, Femi was still in the position she had left him, patiently waiting for her so they could continue what had been started earlier.

Kazie shocked him and even herself.

“Femi, please leave my room and don’t forget to come back for me tomorrow morning”.

Femi looked surprised only for a second. He picked up his car keys from the bed and made for the door. ‘Goodnight Kazie’ he said in an almost mocking tone.

Kazie didn’t reply. She shut the door firmly behind him. Later that night as she went to bed she wondered why she felt so disturbed about the night’s events. Was it the guilt of being with a driver or was it the fact that she hadn’t allowed things progress further? What ever the case she needed to return to Lagos quickly! She had clearly left all her senses there!

This morning, she had behaved as if nothing had happened. Thankfully, she was leaving for Lagos the next day and she could quickly put the whole sordid events behind her and go on like nothing ever happened.

Femi was making a telephone call. He was obviously talking to a woman. She wondered who it was. She felt a tiny jolt of jealousy. “What is wrong with me, God!!!”.

Kazie decided to engage Femi in a chat.  This might clear the situation and perhaps, they would both go on like nothing happened.

“Femi, I was just wondering, you are a graduate, why are you doing this for a living?” Kazie asked carefully hoping she would not hurt his feelings.  Femi was surprised. He wondered why she had not asked him until now, besides he felt they ought to talk about what happened the previous night.

“I graduated five years ago but I couldn’t get a job, this is the only job I could get. So I decided it was better than nothing”. He replied matter of factly. He was about to end the story there when he glanced at her from his rearview mirror. She really did look beautiful this morning. She had packed up her hair and was wearing a different shade of lipstick.

“Maybe you should try moving to Lagos, there are more jobs there”. She replied. “I wish it were that simple Kazie”, Femi continued. “My predicament started a long time ago, I am the most successful of my siblings.  I have never believed in karma but I can say, mine is a clear example if people believe or not.”

Kazie was intrigued. Femi paused for some seconds.  “I don’t know why I am telling you this.”

“Never mind, Yes, yes, what happened? A very curious Kazie stared at Femi. She was twirling the loop of her right earring, a habit she did when she was engrossed in something.

“My Father got a job as Security guard in Lagos about twenty years ago with an Igbo family living somewhere in Ojota. The job did not last. He was sent out dishonorably ten months after. My mother died two weeks after he came back because of what he did.” Femi exhaled deeply.

“Ewo, sorry o, what really happened,” Kazie was becoming impatient. They were close to the bank and she wanted the full gist.

“My father did a very bad thing”. Femi let out a deep sigh and continued with his story. “The family he worked with in Lagos had three children, all girls. My father once sent a letter home describing the hospitality of his boss. He also commented on how beautiful his daughters were. At first we thought nothing of it”

Femi suddenly realized he was about to say a bit to much. Why was he telling his family story to a woman he barley even knew. Sensing his hesitation to continue with his story, Kazie reached out and touched his shoulder from the back seat of the car. “Its okay Femi, you can tell me. Sometimes it helps to talk about things”. Femi was unsure how discussing his family would help, but he continued.

“After a few months, my father’s letters stopped coming. My mother was very worried and so sent my fathers older brother to go and check on him. When he came back he told my mother that my father had been arrested”.

“Arrested? What for”? Asked Kazie? “Did he steal his Oga’s car”? Femi’s grip on the steering tightened. “No, for rape. He raped his Oga’s three children. They were all less than 10 years old”. Even though he couldn’t see her, Femi could feel Kazie’s eyes burning a whole at the back of his neck.

“Jesus.” Kazie finally said. She could feel her head spinning. Her brain told her that the car had now stopped in front of the bank but her body felt like she was moving in various directions.

“My father died four years ago’ he always said he knew a curse had been placed on his family.” Femi added.

Kazie suddenly wished she had never asked Femi any questions. In fact she wished she had never met him. She wished she wasn’t in Ibadan seating in the same car with him. Despite all her wishes, she had one vital question to ask.  Femi was looking at her from the rearview mirror.

“Femi, is your surname Oni”? Kazie finally asked, her voice a hushed whisper

“Yes”. Femi replied. He had now turned to face her.

“Was your father ever called “Baba Today”?. Kazie asked again, this time closing her eyes.

“Yes, that was my father. How did you know?”

Tears suddenly began to roll down Kazie’s face. Her eyes were still shut. She could not bear to open them. “Kazie what’s wrong, why are you crying”. Femi asked. He knew his story was sad, but not that sad. He reached out to hold her.

“Don’t touch me”. Kazie replied. “Don’t lay a finger on me”.

“But why are you crying”, Femi asked now more confused than ever. He really wished he hadn’t said anything

Kazie swallowed what seemed like a fist full of saliva. Her mind contemplating what her lips were about to say. “Your father raped me and my sisters”. Kazie replied. She was looking at him now. Her eyes burning with the fire of past memories.

“What”? Femi replied. His hands instinctively reaching for his head. No, this had to be a joke! But the look on Kazie’s face, told him otherwise.

Kazie grabbed her things and opened the door. Walking towards the road, she stopped a bike, “airport” she said. She had had more than enough of Ibadan.

Photo credit:

Tomilola is a hopeless romantic, lover of Fashion, Style and Beauty. She portrays this through her blog- You can also reach her via:- Facebook:- tomiscolourpavilion Instagram:- tomiscolourpavilion Twitter:- tomiscolour


  1. JPrat

    August 31, 2010 at 9:54 am

    I enjoyed reading that 🙂

  2. Moi

    August 31, 2010 at 10:12 am

    Oh wow… How sad… the Femi seemed like a really nice guy… 🙁

  3. urfavoritenigerianchic

    August 31, 2010 at 10:30 am

    i didnt like the story; i am not sure what the point of it is.

  4. jojo

    August 31, 2010 at 10:47 am


  5. Alero

    August 31, 2010 at 10:56 am

    Interesting read Tomi,What an irony.

  6. hardeyeancah

    August 31, 2010 at 11:08 am

    ops…… this is a sad story…………. and expeting more 4rm u thankx……….lolz

  7. Taciturn Turned Talkative

    August 31, 2010 at 11:14 am

    Fancy Kezie and Femi meeting. Really small world!
    I enjoyed reading this. Is there is sequel?

    Free roads are certainly rare in Lagos.

    Taciturn Turned Talkative

  8. olufunmi

    August 31, 2010 at 11:24 am

    @tomilola….what a nice read!! happy ur work is being published on bella naija. really proud of a fellow fegoite.u go girl!

  9. fokasibe

    August 31, 2010 at 11:25 am

    Sad. touching. gripping. Tomilola Aderibigbe make one feel a myriad of emotions all at once with her latest prose Whip of Fate. Go grab your copy now!!!

    • fokasibe

      August 31, 2010 at 11:25 am


  10. coop

    August 31, 2010 at 11:33 am

    he must be baba today`s son

  11. Ty

    August 31, 2010 at 11:34 am

    A very funny story…….but not sure abt d way it ended…

  12. Laura

    August 31, 2010 at 11:36 am

    Nicely written but a bit exaggerated. I am trying to decipher a situation where a well learned ,upwardly mobile,pretty young Igbo lady could mix her native language with English while conversing with a non-Igbo. Expressions like “Ewoo,sorry o” and “Mbanu” should not have come up in this write up. Good work though.

    • Geekgirl

      September 1, 2010 at 4:49 am


    • Geekgirl

      September 1, 2010 at 4:52 am

      er? i am yoruba and i say “shebi, abi, pele,Ki lo so, kilode, bawo ni” and the likes to non Yoruba folks.

    • a

      September 1, 2010 at 2:17 pm

      very common occurrence

    • Ogo

      September 1, 2010 at 2:50 pm

      Its very possible biko!! i am an igbo over-educated chic…lol and i say all of that and more sef,so biko, e di kwa very wrong!!!

  13. Cutie

    August 31, 2010 at 11:41 am

    wow……wot an interesting story, d world indeed is a small one. am lovin dis.

  14. bcgeorge

    August 31, 2010 at 11:44 am

    quite an intriguing story but ofcos not impossible….dis is fatal attraction @ it’s best..women and their uncontrollable emotions sumtyms scares me…….One mustn’t criticize other people on grounds where he can’t stand perpendicular himself

  15. Adooshe

    August 31, 2010 at 12:15 pm

    @ Laura – on the contrary, I think it autheticates the character. I have lots of ibo friends and they do that all the time. And i see educated, not well learned, as in the story doesnt tell us that much.

  16. fatimah

    August 31, 2010 at 12:46 pm

    wow!well scripted…………………..small world and the laws of karma

  17. Ronnie

    August 31, 2010 at 1:25 pm

    Jeez!What a story. Didn’t quite like how it started though but i love how it evolves.Well done!

  18. tos!

    August 31, 2010 at 1:51 pm

    Wow!! Love it..

  19. Mummy S

    August 31, 2010 at 2:22 pm

    Nice story!!! Not sure about the end though. A person should not be judged by the sins of his father.

  20. anu

    August 31, 2010 at 2:25 pm


  21. tblaiz

    August 31, 2010 at 2:37 pm

    intriguing story please how do i get 2read up d rest…i’ld love 2follow this story

  22. kofo DAVIES

    August 31, 2010 at 2:38 pm

    they would eventually get married……………………..the end. Nigeria Film.

    bellenaija, u must post my comment oh, cos i have noticed u don’t post unfavorable comments

  23. nonye

    August 31, 2010 at 2:39 pm

    I quite agree with Laura. An igbo lady of that social status would only use those terms assuming she were talkin with family or close friends not a non igbo speaking stranger

  24. Adebisi

    August 31, 2010 at 2:43 pm

    waooo.this is interesting.what an ironic experience.

  25. pweery babie

    August 31, 2010 at 2:52 pm

    This is super story……

  26. dija

    August 31, 2010 at 2:53 pm

    that`s life we should always think of the future b4 we do anything in lyfe, his dad is gone but his family bares burden

  27. crackhead

    August 31, 2010 at 3:41 pm

    Na wa o..nice write up sha…although some parts were kinda cheeky…it was still a good story…

  28. D.O.T.M.H.

    August 31, 2010 at 3:57 pm


  29. Oyinlola

    August 31, 2010 at 4:08 pm

    nice story Tomi….

  30. Newborn

    August 31, 2010 at 5:00 pm

    Woah! Cool story. Wot a lucky driver to have gained access to a madam with such ” well rounded hips “. Lol.
    sad ending though but I just hope the pilot of the plane in Ibadan(?) doesn’t also try his luck.

  31. Nneka

    August 31, 2010 at 7:19 pm

    @ Laura: Quite contrary to your assumptions, mixing Igbo or Yoruba or whatever with English is very normal. You should hear my Yoruba friends totally go off speaking Yoruba to me 3/4 of the time. When they realize it , they say, “Sorry jere, mo ti gbabge kpe omo Ibo nie sha”
    … Yoruba (again)

    I like the story line Tomilola. Work more on your delivery and be sure to proof read your work for grammatical errors and phrasing. Some sentences could have been phrased better phrased. Get a friend or two to proof read it. They’ll catch something you missed. Well done.

  32. Oluchi

    August 31, 2010 at 7:21 pm

    Story started great. I didn’t like how it ended.

  33. shola

    August 31, 2010 at 9:01 pm

    close 2 sucks………is dere a [email protected] totally agree wit u

  34. Lola

    August 31, 2010 at 9:53 pm

    Nahhhh…..too predictable..HONESTLY while reading i KNEW how it was going to end.
    Nice try though.

  35. sisi

    August 31, 2010 at 10:54 pm

    Femi’s father couldn’t control himself years ago…… now the once raped /abused victim grows up and she too is having problems controlling herself…. what would Oprah say??? this is real super story…. and i like it

  36. Newborn

    September 1, 2010 at 12:11 am

    @Lola, I read through again cos of ur comment. I agree the story aint perfect (personally, I’d have preferred if the she & the driver had spent the night together) but I don’t agree wit ur calling it “predictable”. Haba!
    The end is quite unusual cos its not just that she got physical wit a driver, but a driver with that sort of historical link to her family…that’s just deep.

  37. Omada

    September 1, 2010 at 12:20 am

    dis one nah real ‘whip of fate’.

  38. Omada

    September 1, 2010 at 12:46 am

    but this Femi guy sef, telling a secret like dis to someone you barely know?

  39. Ounje Mi

    September 1, 2010 at 6:36 am

    its kinda weirdd…. but i want to know what happens next..awww menn. thats so sad

  40. Nefertity

    September 1, 2010 at 8:23 am

    Ill wids of fate, is all I can say!

  41. lola

    September 1, 2010 at 12:19 pm

    Dont like the way it ended and no major suspense… doesnt make me want more

  42. more'deenah

    September 1, 2010 at 3:20 pm

    same ol’ same ol’

  43. medina

    September 1, 2010 at 9:03 pm

    hmmm what more can i say? d end was a bit clumsy- failed rapist father so what? it wasnt Femi who commited the crime- he proved himself the night b4 by not forcing himself, unrealistic ending……..if dy had spent d night 2gether then, it would have served Kazie right for sleeping with a stranger who turned out to be d son of d man who raped her. thus, the ending wld have been appropriate

  44. mariaah

    September 2, 2010 at 1:00 am

    As per the language thing I speak naija slangs (Igbo, yoruba, Hausa, Igala, Idoma) to my friends including a Ugandan, Asian…Its almost the norm with Nigerians I guess..
    The story didn’t quite start well for me dunno know why? mayb because I have read a few of such recently and you always kinda knew what was next! BTW Baba today reminded me of one of my neighbours “Baba nation” (well, nt that he did anything like this)..

  45. Akluv

    September 17, 2010 at 5:21 pm

    its so sad dt she had smtn 2 do wt d femi guy,d poor guy is suffering from wat his dad did.God help us n d actions we take

  46. Tomi Ola

    November 10, 2010 at 9:45 pm

    WOW! Tomi, this is a story that held me bound from top – bottom, and the twist at the end was superb.
    For people who do not agree with how the story ended, it is the same way we do not agree with loads of things life throws at us. But all in all, as long as there is life, there is hope.

    Tomi I am going to be on serious look out for your stories. Brilliant one dear!

  47. ToluLope

    November 11, 2010 at 9:41 am

    Tomi nice one…guess the world is such a small place afterall.

  48. Ms. Jayee

    November 25, 2010 at 3:48 pm

    Not particularly blown away! disgusted more like it!

  49. Es Tee

    November 29, 2010 at 6:30 am

    I’m originally from IB and it’s nice to hear all these places in IB. Good old Challenge was nothing but peaceful, back in those days but then I suppose in comparison to Lagos…it is.
    Quite an interesting twist…but err, which airport is she going to in Ibadan? I know there’s a local airport in IB but isn’t it in disuse at the mo?

  50. Deji Sokeye

    October 21, 2011 at 3:37 am

    wat a tale of faith,quite partethic & sorrowful.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Tangerine Africa
Sign up on Netflix

Star Features