Parenting: an unhappy mother shares her sorrow

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I got married at the age of 24 to my husband who was a medical practitioner just like me. We both focused on our careers. We were both successful in all we did except in the parenting of our own flesh and blood.

We had two children. Kunle was the first and Tola the second. Kunle was a very inquisitive boy and asked questions on everything. He was even nicknamed The Examiner. His father and I got so tired of his constant questions that we started locking up the door to our bedroom once we came back from work. How I wish I knew better! How I wish I read those posts of yours then!

By the time Kunle was four years old he was much more intelligent than his colleagues, and he was so lively too. You would never have a dull moment with him. He loved his sister so much and we were always proud of him. His father and I were so sure Kunle was also going to become a medical doctor just as we were.

We loved our children so much and had plans to give them the best of everything, although we were always busy and were not always at home because of the nature of our jobs. That made us hire a nanny, and we also had one of my brothers-in-law with us.

On day I came back from work very tired and my son ran into my room with me and asked, “Why do you always close your door anytime you and daddy are in the room? Do you like kissing my daddy? Why don’t you kiss me too?”

I got so upset with him that I beat him severely and reported him to his teacher the next day. We believed some of his friends were already exposed and may be watching bad movies at home. By the end of that term, we withdrew Kunle and Tola from the school.

We did not allow him and his sister watch the television at home and also stopped them from visiting their friends and neighbors. We did all those to preserve our children’s sanity but hardly did we know what was happening right under our roof.

Some two years later, I got home unusually early to pick up a document. I noticed the door was not shut and everywhere was quiet. I sneaked in to give my children a playful surprise only to realize that their uncle and nanny were in the sitting room with my children watching pornography. I hate remembering that day. Not only were they watching pornography, they were all naked, practicing what they were watching.

I drove out the nanny and my brother-in-law but the seed was already planted. When I was crying, my six-year-old son came to me and said, “Mummy, why are you crying? Uncle and aunty are only teaching us how to be good mummy and daddy.”

I was shocked as I never even knew that this had been going on for over two years and my children had been indoctrinated into this messy life style at their tender age. We never realized the impact that had had on their lives until we caught both of them having sexual intercourse on uncountable occasions. Tola and Kunle did not only continue with this but became obsessed with each other.

Their father and I kept that as our little secret as we were well known in our profession. We tried correcting them in love with tears streaming down our faces whenever we caught them in the act. They promised us they were going to change. We had done two abortions for our daughter, since we could not face the stigma of incest.

On a fateful day, Tola walked up to her father and I and told us she was pregnant for Kunle again. Her father insisted on an abortion as usual but this time we lost our 20-year-old daughter in the process. Kunle, on learning that Tola had died, never spoke to either his father or me again. He eventually left home.

Three months after Kunle left home, we received a call from a hospital telling us our son was in a terrible state in their ICU. When we got there, Kunle was lying unconscious. He had poisoned himself.

Finally, he got conscious and we were so happy. He looked at us as we sat by the bedside and told us how much he hated us for killing his sister. We pleaded with him and apologized. We got to the hospital the next day to see his corpse. He had suffocated himself by removing his oxygen mask.

I am now 74 years old and a widow. My husband could not forgive himself and died of depression three years ago. Every day I regret my years of ignorance, and wish I could start afresh.

I never opened up my family’s little secret till today. I don’t know if my story can be of help to other parents, but I am tired of carrying this burden without telling a soul.

I am happy I finally summoned the courage to open up to someone today. Oh, my life is a great mess.

Kindly do me the favor of posting this on your page for parents to learn how expensive their actions today could be tomorrow.


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