Hey everyone my name is Ayla and I'll be telling you a quick short story about my life through A.A.Deville.
I was out of wedlock or so I call it. Into an African home. My mom and dad where both dating when they conceived me and my dad didn't take responsibility, not that he denied the pregnancy but he just wasn't there, after all they weren't married.
He's name is Peter and her's Jane. So my mom took up the responsibility of taking care of me in the womb till I was I born. She paid and went tco all the check up and antenatal. Only for him to come after I was born just to say "indeed this is my blood" for they say I looked like him alot. He said what he wanted and left without dropping a penny or even paying for the hospital bill, well putting all those aside, my mom trained me all by herself without any body's help.
I grew up in a single parent home not having dad, I couldn't say I have a dad because mine didn't take the responsibility of one, we didn't have that relationship, also I didn't leave with him, not that I don't hear from him or know how he looks. Sometimes I do talk to him on the phone and I remember visiting him a few times while I was still very young which was in another state, but after a while I stopped visiting him after he and my mom had a fight when we last visited him.
Years passed I was seven years old, and growing up in a African home was not easy at all, with all the shouts, beating, and punishment, well it was all part of training. My mom meant a man(Fred) online, an African man who lived in Japan on the app we call Facebook. So they started talking for a while and getting to know one another. About a year later he came to Nigeria and met my mom and they got married and both went back to Japan and I was left behind to stay with my aunt, her husband and her son.
Within this period of time I kept defend my so call dad who I now hardly hear from, anytime my mom, aunt of any of my relatives speaks bad of him I will always defend him and say he was a good man still being the kid that I was and knowing nothing
I was eight when I started staying with my aunt, my mom younger sister, who was staying with a rich man not that they were married but they did what we call introduction here in Africa. He's name is Monday, he was rich with lots of wives and my aunt, aunt bella was the last she had a child(Simeon) for another man outside before she meant Monday. She lived alone in a separate house outside Monday home with his 5 wives. So I was staying with them and trust me when I saying staying with that man wasn't fun at all. It was maltreatment after maltreatment, punishment after punishment, beatings after beating, not just me by my cousin brother Simeon who I was older than with five years, but he didn't show all this at first it started gradually.