Thandeka grew up in South Africa with her mother, Lerato. She never knew her father. All she had were fragments of a story, that he was a Yoruba man from Nigeria named Babs and that he had worked with a telecommunications company in the late ’80s. During his stay in South Africa, he and Lerato had a relationship that was never meant to go beyond friendship. He made it clear that he had a family waiting for him back home.
Lerato ran a small local restaurant known for food that was really good. Babs was a regular customer and over time their friendship grew into something deeper. When his job became more demanding and he no longer had time to stop by, Lerato often delivered his meals to his home. Those visits made them even closer and before long, their friendship crossed into intimacy. She was fully aware that he was above her social class and she had accepted that the relationship would lead nowhere.
By the time Babs completed his contract and returned to Nigeria, Lerato discovered she was pregnant. The pregnancy was the last thing she expected because he had always been more cautious than she was.
Every attempt to reach him failed. The only number she had was a work line that no longer belonged to him. The company refused to share any employee information. She was distraught.
Years passed. Lerato did her best as a single mother. Shortly before her death from COVID-19, she inherited a large sum of money from her late aunt, her mother’s only surviving sibling who had lived all her life in Portugal. Life finally shifted for mother and daughter but Lerato did not live long enough to enjoy the change.
By 2021, Thandeka decided it was time to search for her father. With her mother gone, she no longer had anyone discouraging her. She had a blurry photograph and the name “Babs Ajayi,” but she soon discovered how common the name was. Thousands of similarities, thousands of dead ends.
When she finally travelled to Lagos to trace him, she didn’t find her father but she found love. She met Osas and their connection was instant. They shared dreams, goals, ideas, laughter and hope. Their affection for each other grew but their relationship came with one heavy burden: his mother, Iye Osas.
From the beginning, Osas’ mother was determined to destroy the marriage. She believed Thandeka had come from South Africa to reap where she did not sow. She never hid her disdain and treated Thandeka like an intruder. Osas never defended his wife; instead, he constantly asked her to tolerate his mother’s behaviour. His siblings were no different. They walked into the house freely, took her belongings without asking and dismissed her complaints by reminding her that she only lived in their brother’s house. Their treatment was increasingly malicious.
Eventually, the suspicion that Osas was cheating on her was confirmed, and everything inside her broke. She had to be honest with herself. She asked what her true purpose in Nigeria was and how she had allowed herself to be distracted by a man who drained her emotionally and financially.
She realised her mother had been right; some things were better left buried. She had no reason to chase a man who never wanted to be found, and she had no reason to remain in a marriage that reduced her worth.
A plan was formed, and she was going to execute it quietly. It was Iye Osas’ birthday and Osas had planned a week long resort getaway for his mother and siblings. Thandeka was not invited because her presence would “upset” the celebrant. She was used to this form of exclusion, so she did not argue.
While they were away, she began her exit. She collected the car Osas drove to the resort under the guise of servicing it. Then she sold that car, the other two at home and the house itself. She packed their boxes and kept them safely in the gatehouse. When everything was complete, her lawyer delivered the divorce papers to Osas while she boarded the next available flight to South Africa, where her friends and her businesses waited for her.
She had loved Osas deeply, but it was clear he loved her wealth more than he loved her. He never told his family that everything they enjoyed was purchased with her money and registered in her name. Even the resort trip they were on was paid for by her. Yet he had the nerve to exclude her.
His family had called her a gold digger, but they were the ones digging and excavating with greed.
After she landed in South Africa, she turned on her phone. Calls and messages flooded in. Her in-laws hurled insults, but she responded only with proof of ownership, showing that everything she sold was hers. If Osas pretended to be wealthy, that was their problem, not hers.
In the days that followed, apologies poured in. Osas and his family begged and promised change. But she had heard enough. She blocked all their numbers and told Osas he would only hear from her lawyer going forward.
It was bad enough that her father abandoned her mother. She refused to let another Nigerian man treat her like she was worthless.
Thandeka returned home wiser, stronger, and ready to rebuild her life on her own terms.
