I Say your best friend is eighteen years older than you are. He’s a lot older, but he’s very relatable. The truth? You see yourself in him; becoming him. You met him at an ICAN conference twenty-four years ago and it’s been bliss. Being the president, he had requested that you see him after your…


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Say your best friend is eighteen years older than you are. He’s a lot older, but he’s very relatable. The truth? You see yourself in him; becoming him. You met him at an ICAN conference twenty-four years ago and it’s been bliss. Being the president, he had requested that you see him after your one hour presentation at the conference. Till today, you can’t fathom why your presentation was selected for special attention despite all the other presentations which you feel were better than yours.

But that’s all history.

Say sixteen years ago you slept with your best friends’ wife. Yes, you had sex with her, and in their home too. Hell, you even did it on their bed.

Your best friend left the country the previous day. He had an argument with his wife the morning he did. You show up that evening to drop off his own copy of the survey of the land the two of you just acquired. You knew the couple had quarreled the day before. You saw it on your best friends face when you drove him to the airport. You don’t know the reason for the argument. Anyway, she’s moody and she’s alone. They have no children. She offers to bring you juice. You say you’ll fix yourself a drink, after all, you’re like family here. It rains. It’s cold out. You pick up your keys, it’s time to go home. She hugs you at the door as you say good night. You can’t explain it but you love the feeling; She likes the feeling. It’s a rainy night after all. So you say you’ll just stay over. You pretend to watch TV downstairs when she tells you she’s off to bed. “I’ll retire later”, you say. You know the house well; you’ve passed many nights here. It’s 12:23am. You know this because you’re still awake even though it’s been two hours since you tucked yourself in. There’s loud thundering. She screams from her room with fear. The scream is sustained. You have to protect her, comfort her. You rush towards her room. Like the scriptures you read before you left home, things are working together for your good. You open the door to discover she has recently acquired the new habit of sleeping naked when her husband is away. Things happen. Things have a way of happening.

Your best friend is away for four months. His wife is four months pregnant when he gets back. You don’t fret much, his wife assured you they had sex the night prior to his leaving. His joy is boundless, they’d expected for so long. For a moment, you convince yourself you’ve done a good thing. What good is a friend if they cannot cause joy for one another?

It’s a girl. She looks like her mother. Once again, you’re saved. Past the merriment, you demand a paternity test from your best friends’ wife. It reveals you’re the father. There’s happiness in your gut because your wife cannot conceive and you won’t take another. You love her too much. You agree to keep quiet. It’s more of a suggestion than an agreement really.

But that’s all history.

Say you’ve kept this secret all the while and it’s been sixteen years. The kid is fifteen and is going to have to make the choice of which university to attend. The kid likes you, but not a lot. She often wonders why you always have something to say when there’s a decision to be made about her and even wonders more often why her father obliges you. She likes you all the same because you buy her expensive gifts and you say yes when her father has said no.

Occasionally your best friend refers to her as ‘your daughter’ when he’s reporting her to you. Your heart leaps each time. You’re reassured by the innocent smile that follows.

Say your best friend agrees on her suggestion to send her to a private university. You intervene and argue brilliantly that a federal university is better, that she could even rent an apartment outside campus with her friend if she doesn’t like the housing facilities on campus. You suggest your alma mater. Your best friend agrees. All this happens right in front of the kid. She storms out and stomps her feet all the way up to her room. She’s muttering. You listen well enough to hear her say, “If he had his own children, he’ll know how it feels”. You’re hurt. You’re hurt deeply. You look at you best friends’ wife. She looks at you too and then her eyes meet the floor. Your best friend is too busy analyzing the just concluded football match to notice. A moment or two passes.

Your best friend is sixty, you’re eighteen years shy of that. You know you have to wait till he’s gone to assume paternity. You value your friendship. You love him. It’s worth it.

But that’s your own story.


Say you were a randy teenager. You got a girl knocked up when you were just seventeen. You denied it. She died in child birth. Her single mother raised the kid.

You leave the country on scholarship; you’re as brilliant as you’re randy. You return to the country a Christian accountant; you try to right your wrongs. You run into an old girlfriend; you try to apologize. She’s having none of it. She’s says she cannot have kids because of an abortion you cajoled her into having; she’s still very bitter. You try some more to apologize but you begin to feel pain. She has you by the balls and she’s bearing down. She squeezes, you scream. The doctor says you can’t have kids anymore; there’s too much damage. You take this suffering in good faith; you’re paying for past sins.

Say you move on with life, you fall in love, you get married. You can’t have kids though, but your wife doesn’t know. When she frets, you tell her it doesn’t matter to you, and indeed it doesn’t. You’re good husband, the best actually.

Say you are finally able to track down the kid you’d denied. He’s a young man now and he’s doing well. Graduated youngest and top in his class. Like you, he’s a chartered accountant. He looks like his mother. You’re reminded of your past sins.

Say you use your influence as president of the society to get him to present at the annual conference against recommendations from the planning committee. It goes well and you ask him to join you for dinner afterwards. He’s your son, but you don’t let him know. You make sure you become best friends to guarantee your presence in his life. You become very fond of him. You see your young self in him.

Say you leave the country for four months and your wife is pregnant by the time you’re back. You know he did it because you can’t get a woman pregnant and you pressured the gateman into snitching. You’re not sad. You’re not angry. Now you have a grandkid. A granddaughter. She’s beautiful, like her mother. You allow your best friend have input in decisions concerning her. She’s after all his daughter. Sometimes you say no, just so he can say yes.

You’re sixty years old. The young girl is about to go off to university. You agree with your best friend on what school to send her to. She’s annoyed and says some hurtful words. Your best friend is hurt. You pretend not to notice and continue analyzing the just finished football match. You’ll soon be gone, and he’ll finally be able to father his child.

Life’s not so bad.


Say it’s been twenty one years since you last attended the ICAN conference. The last time you did, you were the chairman of the planning committee. The president had imposed a speaker on you. You had refused. He got angry; you got angry. There was name calling and exchange of words. You make up your mind to never attend a conference again. You’re a man of words.

Say you see in the papers today that he passed on. He was a brilliant man; you finally forgive him.

It’s now in the past.


Say your best friend passed on three years ago. He had a terminal illness he never told anyone about. Testicular cancer. Even his widow did not know. It’s been three years and you’re finally able to open up to your best friends’ supposed daughter with the help of her mother that you’re actually her father. She’s upset. She’s angry. She’s enraged. She hates you. She hates her mother more.

You’ll be forty eight years old in a month. You reflect on your life. You never knew your mother; you only saw her in pictures. She died in childbirth. You never knew your father; he has no identity, he fled at your conception. The daughter you fathered has rejected your paternal claims. Your best friends’ widow assures you she’s young and will eventually come around. You know it’s a lie but you hope to God that you’re wrong so you…

Say nothing.


About the author


Akintola Akindamola is a young physiotherapist and graphics designer who over years of reading and writing has come to fall in love with words.



      1. Nedoux
        Hi Akindamola.

        Wow! This is easily the best piece of writing that I have read in a while, you have a true gift for “circular drafting”- a writing style where the plot unfolds like a coil. The beginning becomes the end, and the end becomes the beginning. Lol

        Well done. 🙂

    1. Onepowerwoman
      My God! I couldn’t agree less!! EXCELLENT 100!! Did his bio read …”has come to fall in love with words?!!!”.. Nah bro! Words came to fall in love with you!:D hehe… Fantastic piece, Adigun! Looking forward to the next! 😉
    1. Joe
      The son is also a victim, Tho he cancelled it sha sleeping with his “best friend” wife.

      The Real victim is Tokunbo – The daughter.

  1. Adesina David

    Whoever cooked this article is a genius and deserves a Nobel Prize. Amazing twists and turns that is sure to keep you glued till the end… Dami… Thumbs up and up again to you… Hope to see more from you soon…
  2. chioma
    Wow!!! Welkdone , It’s a beautifully crafted story, , it was d woman’s choice, and d son ddnt know, so it wasn’t like she was played.
      1. chioma
        The son should also be labelled a victim since he was also not aware that he slept with his father’s wife. Its very messed up sha.
  3. Joe
    You people with twisted mind, how do you do it?
    An apple can’t just fall from a tree you will call it gravity.

    Is it cannabis or what? pls teach me if it’s teachable.

  4. Engoz
    I read everything, which is not always the case with fictional attempts. Don’t mind me my attention span is like that of a shoe lace…lol. Good job.
  5. QT
    This is a captivating story. I was seated, laid back with my feet on a colleague’s chair when i started reading this story. Now I’m leaning into my desk with my face literally “in” my screen. Weldone!
  6. GBS
    Say I saved this piece after reading it twice. Say I want to read it over and over again. Say the Author is brilliant. Say he’s a badass writer.
  7. Sly
    Damn right I’m saving this piece.
    Awesome writeup; a detailed and straight forward interpretation of what actually happens in life

    Posted from TNC Mobile

  8. BlackPearl
    I have not commented on this blog in a very long time but this was, simply put, phenomenal! This is how I would love to write. The story is already amazing on its own but then the way you told it, that made it even better than it already was. I am very impressed. Kudos!
  9. Anita
    Chineke! I am not even Igbo but that’s the word that came out after I read it.

    See ehn, the story is sweet! Can one say that abt a story!? I don’t care but it is SWEET!


  10. Twisted
    I hated it!

    I just hate that it wasn’t me who came up with suçh a beautiful write up.
    Well-done damola.
    It was really good.

  11. woyi_oc
    *Say you’re supposed to read for a paper you have in a few hours and are browsing through articles you can use to flesh out your answers. Then you decide to procrastinate and read a post on tnc titled SAY.
    Now imagine it being so well written you are rendered speechless and the only thing you can do is


  12. Ayotola
    I Love the Personal reported speech format in which you wrote this Coz! Through the characters eyes… simpe tenses and lovely plot! It’s just Life as it is, calling your dad Best friend because u didn’t knw, his wife sleeping with her hubby’s son cos she didn’t know, he keeping all this Truths from the parties involved, you being a passive active Onlooker in the raising of your child! They are all Victims! But I don’t like the silent Lies trails he used to shroud truths… nice Write Damola
  13. Ucheya
    This is amazing! The style employed in this write up is something else. You got me glued to my computer till the end. Write more and we would read more. The fiction is indeed thrilling. And the rasta men would say; “More Fire Style!”
  14. Queen
    I don’t usually comment, but damn! My jaw literally dropped! Brilliant piece! The writing style, the twists…teach me Master!
  15. Ifunanya
    Say I’m not having these ideas in my head.. Say the father died but not after telling his son-cum-bestfriend the truth… Say the wife goes off after hearing the truths..Say the daughter goes after her mum… Say father and son keeps staring. endlessly at themselves not trusting themselves to speak again…
    Say you continue this story…
  16. Raymond
    I loved this.. Nicely written bro.


    Looks like I am the only one struggling with III. Is the Planning Committee chairman Akintola Akindamola and he is telling us this story or who is he exactly and what is his relevance to the plot besides letting us know ICAN president has died?

    And if your 60yrd old friend died 3 years ago and he was 18yrs older than you.. can you really be turning 48 next month or isn’t it atleast 3 years too early for that?

  17. Kemi

    This is more than Fantastic… plot twist all over. Incredible!! i love immersing myself in write ups like ds cos my imaginations are powerful.👍
  18. mustiloquent
    Oh my..that was really beautiful..I like d twist n turns in each chapter..Like they say “what goes arnd comes arnd”..It was more like a vicious cycle albeit this seemed a bit fortuitous one..Nice read bro..This is my first time of seeing dis sort of new dimension to writing,,kudos
  19. MPDchic
    Against all odds I must post a comment, *in olamide’s voice* o my God! I love dis!! (dnt know why I chose dat voice). Beautiful!!!
  20. titolu
    mehn….say this is a hotter version of Oedipus Rex or ‘The gods are not to be blamed’ or whatever….
    Great read!
  21. chiotis
    This is simply brilliant. Ve read it ova 5 times and I still plan on reading it ova n ova again. Its intriguing and also a master piece. Kudos to u Akin.
  22. Valentine
    Awesome read. Captivating, through and through.

    Am I the only one, however.

    What part does Story III have in this inter-twisted narrative?

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