From the very first day I met Mama Tunde, I felt it, that sharp, cold look that pierced through me. She didn’t hide her dislike. I wasn’t from her tribe, and in her own words, “My son deserves a wife from his people.”
But Tunde loved me, and I believed nothing could tear us apart. I was wrong. Barely months into our marriage, Mama’s visits became frequent.
Every time she came, there was something to criticize, my cooking, my dressing, even the way I greeted her. Then, one Sunday, she told i must. Click now to read every detail—don’t be left wondering!
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