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Aunty Yolanda (Part I) By:- Anonymous

Aunty Yolanda (Part I) By:- Anonymous 

His parents always left him in the care of Aunty Yolanda, the amiable widow in the neighborhood.

Aunty Yolanda lost her husband after barely three years of marriage, and though approaching her late thirties had never remarried. Even though she had no kids of her own, her unabashed love for children was obvious to all and sundry.

As a tailor who worked from her house, it soon became the norm for parents going to work in the mornings to drop off their toddlers with her, and pick them up on their way back.

This informal Daycare-Creche arrangement was mutually beneficial to all concerned; middle class parents getting a child minder for free and Aunty Yolanda enjoying the company of the kids she loved so much while she worked.

Her popularity in the community grew and soon she had as many as thirty young children to watch over daily. Trust Nigerians to always want to take advantage of whatever free service s they could get hold of…the expensive fees demanded by daycare centers didn’t help matters.

Aunty Yolanda eventually got about two apprentices to assist in her tailoring business and they inadvertently became part of the tedious babysitting business.

The apprentices, a male and a female, didn’t share Aunty Yolanda’s passion for the little ones. The young woman, Esther, a grumpy secondary school dropout, was always quick to use her fists on them whenever they got on her nerves, which was often. Bruises and bite marks became a regular thing on the tender skins of her victims, but she explained them away with bare faced lies of the kids always fighting over biscuits.

Some parents weren’t comfortable with this and over time quietly withdrew their children from the Aunty Yolanda daycare. The trend continued till Esther was fired for stealing some lace from her Madam’s customers and the male apprentice Kareem heaved a secret sigh of relief. Her departure afforded him the much needed freedom to perpetuate his own evil acts on the helpless kids whenever his boss wasn’t around.

No single child there was spared of his salacious love for sodomy,but he took particular interest in George Junior, one of the few who never cried during the act. Kareem liked the child’s penchant for climbing onto his laps to watch TV, and unlike his restless peers wasn’t fussy when fondled underneath his clothes. Eventually Kareem ignored the others and focused on the four year old alone, and didn’t stop till George Jnr’s parents relocated to another state two years later.

Three year old Akin and his parents moved into the neighborhood, as a matter of fact taking over the apartment that George Jnr’s family used to live in.

They were soon introduced to the wonderful existence of the Aunty Yolanda daycare, and Akin’s mother eagerly joined the train. She was heavy with her second child and already hunting seriously for a maid. Her relief knew no bounds at the thought of trusted hands taking her gregarious toddler off her hands without her having to pay a kobo as part of the deal.

For some reason Aunty Yolanda developed a profound soft spot for Akin and she didn’t mind showing it. The other kids watched with envy as she showered the newcomer with far more attention than they, buying him more biscuits and toys and deferring to him in any of the usual childish spats.

Akin’s parents were bowled over when on his fourth birthday Aunty Yolanda presented him with a brand new bicycle and a big cake with his name on it. They showered her with prayers of gratitude and secretly wondered why she was yet to to remarry and have biological kids of her own or at least adopt some.

Thus was their perplexed reaction when a while later, Akin began to act withdrawn and cold at the mention of the same Aunty Yolanda’s name.
It got to the extent that he started to wail profusely when his parents had to leave for work and leave him at the widow’s house.

His mother wondered what had come over him and his less patient father wasted no time trashing him soundly and dragging him off to Aunty Yolanda’s, in no mood for getting stuck in the legendary Lagos traffic and getting late to work.

“But why don’t you want to stay and play with your friends at Aunty Yolanda’s place?”, Mama Akin tearfully had to ask one day as the boy writhed under his father’s merciless cane, by now a daily ritual.

“She always locks me up in her room”,wept her son inconsolably.

His father snorted. ” Why won’t she lock you away when you’re always this stubborn and naughty!”,he hissed dragging him out of the house. “Infact I should buy her a special horsewhip to help tame you!”

A few weeks later Akin stopped complaining and seemed resigned to his fate, and his parents became even more befuddled when he infact suddenly began to look forward to going to the babysitter’s. Sometimes he would even refuse to return home when his parents returned from work, insisting on sleeping over at Aunty Yolanda’s.

His Mom heaved a deep sigh of relief even as she wondered again at the change; his father shrugged it off to his disciplinary abilities and thought nothing of it. The neighbors began to jocularly refer to Akin as “Aunty Yolanda’s husband”

His mother put to bed soon after and the newborn took all her attention. Feeling rather neglected, Akin got even more attached to Aunty Yolanda.

February 9th every year marked the anniversary of Aunty Yolanda’s husband’s death. That particular year she sat crying profusely in her room with his framed picture in her hands. She never realized her door was open till Akin ran in chasing after a ball. He stood staring puzzled at the half naked weeping adult before him, and didn’t realize when his own tears started rolling down his cheeks.

Aunty Yolanda noticed him a few minutes later and hurriedly wiped her eyes,keeping the picture aside. Deeply touched that she had inadvertently scared the innocent child and caused him to cry as well, she held out her arms to him.

Akin toddled over and let her lift him into her warm embrace. She cuddled him against her bosom, cooing apologies into his ears for making him cry. A shudder rippled through her as the child reflexively latched onto her naked nipples and made sucking motions. As innocent as the gesture was, it awakened forgotten sexual cravings in the mourning widow….

Next Part:- Click Here For Part II

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Posted by:- on October 12, 2018.

Categories: Literature

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