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BN Prose: Faderera by Olusola Roberts



Mmphmmmm…Mmphmm…” he groaned as he thrust back and forth into an almost lifeless form, making a rhythmic sound with the creaking bed, squeaky jarring notes that pleasantly annoyed the neighbours.

Baba Taju, the palm wine tapper, could no longer stand the noise. He was soon at the entrance to bang on the roofing-sheet door that led to their dingy room. When she eventually managed to tilt him off her, after he was done and was now snoring, she opened the door to meet a committee of angered neighbours. The spokesman, Baba Taju, stated that they could not tolerate the nuisance the couple caused every night – all the children now sang along whenever the couple moaned in the throes of late night passion. Iya Alapere, the basket weaver, even mimicked the trademark sound, angrily cutting Baba Taju’s speech short.

“We all know empty barrels make the most noise; we whose homes are filled with children, did people know when we produced them?” she blared to the nodding approval of the others.

“You people make so much noise, yet in five years you have nothing to show for it. Tell your husband to buy a mat, if he cannot fix your creaking bed!” She hissed and walked away, hurling insults at the children who had gathered in a corner chanting the accustomed rhythm.

“Only a man who loves his wife wants sex from her everyday”, her mother had said when Faderera had gone to complain the umpteenth time of the sexual abuse and maltreatment she received from Folarin. “He will kill me one day maami; it was when I tried to tell him I was tired that he hit me in the face with a bricklayer’s basin”, she responded in tears.

“See my face.”

“Rub some palm oil on it” maami replied, he eyes still fixed on the vegetable she was plucking.

“He is your husband and you should not have refused him. Your father would have done the same had I refused him. Now you will go back and beg him.”

maami… okay, I want to stay here just for this night” Faderera, managed to say.

“There is nowhere for you to sleep; your old room is now a pen for the goats. The rains have been disturbing them so I have moved them there. The fowls sleep in there as well”. She continued plucking the leaves and turned her back to her daughter. Hot tears beclouded Faderera’s eyes as she stumbled back to her home on that cold night. The throbbing pain in her head worsened. Now, the painkillers wouldn’t even work for her anymore.

“Where did it all go wrong?” She thought to herself. She had been the village belle who refused every desirable suitor in the village – those who came hunting all the way from the city also left empty handed. Was she wrong to have married for love? Folarin had meant the world to her. He showered her with affection and promised to take her to places that existed only in dreams. But those dreams did not last a long time. After a perennial tussle for the land on which Folarin’s new shop had been built, the Arowolo family won the suit. This broke him totally. It was the same tussle that had taken his father’s life. But Folarin swore to hold on to his inherited property and had, after several strings of advice from friends, put a structure on it. He had loaned some money from the local thrift collector to build his tailoring shop on the land.

Chief Arowolo, on the pronouncement that he was he rightful owner of the land, locked the shop and demanded rent in arrears from Folarin. He seized Folarin’s equipment and other property pending full payment. Now, Folarin had to pay the thrift collector and his customers demanded their clothes. That was when Folarin changed. He became a hireling to his friend, Kolade, a bricklayer. He began to return home late and drunk; he beat his wife at the slightest provocation, often pointing accusing fingers at her for his condition. When she tried to neglect her wifely duty, in a bid to put him in check, she incurred more wrath from him. He raped her…

One day, her best friend, Sade, who had followed the firewood merchant’s lorry to the city returned home in a new car – her own car – and she even had a driver! She told Faderera how easy life was in the city by just doing ‘runs’. She told her how men doted over her and ridiculed her friend’s state of helplessness. She gave her some of her old clothes and shoes with some money in case she changed her mind.

Faderera had kept all these from Folarin, for the explanation of the benefactor would have brought her more beating? Faderera cried some more as she tied her bundle. In despair, she remembered the beatings over nothing she had received from a man whose once professed love and bought her heart with his tongue. She was just his sex thing now. A depressant, she had caused his present predicament.

He came home drunk as expected, pushed her roughly as she opened the door to let him in. Now she knew better than refuse him. As soon as he started to loosen the cords of his trousers, she reached for the bowl of oil under the bed. In a practised movement of fingers, she quickly lubricated herself as he yanked off her wrapper from her waist. Reeking of the putrid smell of cheap local gin mingled with the staleness of his sweat, he blindly guided himself devoid of passion into her. His mocking silhouette shoved in the poorly lit room. Faderera stared blankly into the deep night from the holes in the roof trying to keep her mind off the jangling.

“It will soon be over”, she thought to herself as a drop of tear hurried down a swollen battered eye onto her left cheek. Fifty kilometers away, a lorry honked as it approached it approached the village.

Photo Credit:


Olusola Roberts is an accomplished actor and director. He has starred in the production of The God’s are not to Blame, Death and the Kings Horsemen, and that Scoundrel Suberu. He also starred in the critically acclaimed production “The V Monologues Vs The Tarzan Monologues”.


  1. Tiki

    April 19, 2011 at 11:07 am


    • dewowo

      April 19, 2011 at 11:18 am

      clapping 4 Tiki…not Q!

    • Tiki

      April 19, 2011 at 12:27 pm

      Thank you, you’re far too kind! *bowing*

  2. cathy

    April 19, 2011 at 11:08 am

    interesting piece

    • Soniya

      April 19, 2011 at 4:04 pm

      I can see that the author added photo credits. But I’m positive the owner of that picture would not like to see her image used to represent such a malcontent character.

  3. Tiki

    April 19, 2011 at 11:15 am

    It’s a gripping, provocative storyline that begs to be developed and enjoyed, but I was quite put-off by what seemed to be a sub-standard grasp of the English language. I mean, ‘…and after several advise from friends to put a structure on it therefore having an edge over the other party…’? really?

    • Sisi

      April 19, 2011 at 11:41 am

      My thoughts exactly

  4. butterfly!

    April 19, 2011 at 11:16 am


  5. bigtimi

    April 19, 2011 at 11:25 am

    wowwwwwwwwwww! dis is interesting!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1 i love ds.. please bella naija , we want more of dssssssssssssssssss

  6. Lil miss sunshine

    April 19, 2011 at 11:30 am

    Wat a sad story, fictious but so many women are going through this ordeal on a daily basis.

  7. ugbaby

    April 19, 2011 at 11:35 am

    yep! interesting piece!

  8. dewowo

    April 19, 2011 at 11:37 am

    don’t understand why women stands to pay for a man’s failure/incompetence/mediocrity?
    any Folarin in da house?

  9. Berry Feistypen

    April 19, 2011 at 11:39 am

    Great writing. Needs more editing.

  10. Damola

    April 19, 2011 at 12:15 pm

    make we hear word jo.. same old, same old story..

  11. Babyluv

    April 19, 2011 at 12:15 pm

    This piece reminds me of “second class citizen” by Buchi Emecheta. Touching!

  12. stella

    April 19, 2011 at 12:16 pm

    Sad story though but interesting

  13. jessy

    April 19, 2011 at 12:27 pm

    Nice one………..

  14. African Queen

    April 19, 2011 at 12:31 pm

    Bravo! This is a good start.

  15. Atoke

    April 19, 2011 at 12:56 pm

    Oil as a lubricant? o_O Lol

  16. Adiya

    April 19, 2011 at 12:57 pm

    Awww mehn!!! God forbid we meet this situation. Nicely written. Well done

  17. Iya2

    April 19, 2011 at 1:47 pm


  18. ify

    April 19, 2011 at 2:06 pm

    beautiful piece, very catching and leaves room for imagination.

  19. gwen

    April 19, 2011 at 2:07 pm

    No woman deserves a life such as what this prose depicts……..

  20. fokasibe

    April 19, 2011 at 2:22 pm

    I liked the plot…

  21. nonny

    April 19, 2011 at 2:49 pm

    mmhmm..not feeling the story**

  22. Shola Donald

    April 19, 2011 at 3:05 pm

    A well written prose by an acclaimed and seasoned actor… nice build-up, strong use of language to go with good syntax… weldone my brother… i know you have it in you

  23. vee

    April 19, 2011 at 3:08 pm

    …. nice piece …. well written

  24. akudo

    April 19, 2011 at 3:50 pm

    nice work and aptly captures the everyday challenges that some married women experience in their homes, being turned into sex objects for their depressed spouses……………

  25. lancelot

    April 19, 2011 at 4:25 pm

    fantastic yarn! he didnt get a pay off! abi you never finish?????

  26. Oma

    April 19, 2011 at 4:43 pm

    touching,very touching. i know it is fiction but even today,many women are treated as sex toys by their husbands.

  27. Tyna

    April 19, 2011 at 4:50 pm

    God help us women !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! nice piece and very touching

  28. veev

    April 19, 2011 at 9:03 pm

    nice story.

  29. vW

    April 19, 2011 at 9:04 pm

    Moving story! I was lookin forward to a happy ending sort of.
    Sad for Faderera.
    In real world, u berra do sthg abt ur situatn n deal wit the weiisstttt of a husband :p

  30. soulspice

    April 19, 2011 at 9:57 pm

    this is wonderful but what happened @the end i really need to know so pls bellanaija n shola roberts should finish this so that my mind can be at rest else all i’ll keep in mind would be faderera.kudos to u shola may ur sense of creativity never turn out like that of fadereras husband after he lost his land n shop.I REALLY WANT MORE

  31. Bettie

    April 19, 2011 at 10:17 pm

    Nice one…

  32. Omada

    April 19, 2011 at 11:25 pm

    the girl in that picture is beautiful! nice story btw. hope we get a second part.

  33. ogefierce

    April 20, 2011 at 9:55 am

    “a rhythmic sound with the creaking bed” hmmm,sounds erotic… ;-),nice work though !!

  34. Adanne

    April 20, 2011 at 12:42 pm

    Nice Work Sola…Love the theme and the message you”re trying to convey as i’m sure wuite a number of women go through this reality on a daily basis and for them, it’s not fiction. Waiting for the plot to thicken as i’m sure this is not the end of
    ps- Your editing needs more effort though so as to improve the overall quality of the piece..xx

  35. Allenworld

    April 20, 2011 at 3:49 pm

    Depicts what most going causing imbroglio.

  36. Nomy

    May 5, 2011 at 4:52 pm

    Touching! Especially the Mother’s lack of sympathy, obviously not the modern working woman or the marriage would have been long over!

  37. Thobela

    September 21, 2011 at 3:35 pm

    i LOVE IT.

  38. ayeniola oladele

    March 27, 2012 at 4:21 pm

    dis as shown we have leaders of tomorrow someone to replace prof wole soyinka, prof j.p. clark. you are a hallmark of good writer and a producer, don’t be surprise if i have to call you emeritus prof.olusola robert the descendants of literature icon. GOOD JOB!

  39. EFOSA

    June 20, 2013 at 12:47 pm


  40. Victor-okhai debra

    September 18, 2017 at 10:41 pm

    This is an amazing writeup
    keep up the good work

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