IMPORTANT NOTICE

My hands shook as I opened the envelope containing the paternity tests I ordered on the child given birth to by my wife. I had ignored my mother's warning to find another apartment to my peril and my wife was delivered of a baby who looks exactly like my landlord.

My naive involvement with my “generous” landlord has eventually proved fatal. It didn't register early on me that my landlord might be setting me up for a fall when I first moved into his house. I first met Mr Bello Ajala while I was prospecting for a middle class apartment. I was just starting out in life when our paths crossed. I had gone to inspect a three bedroom flat in the Yaba area when the landlord subjected me to a curious interrogation.

More like a job interview, Mr Ajala wanted to know everything about my family and what I had been up to since I was a little boy. I found the landlord's conduct odd as he got annoyed and angry while I talked. Surprisingly, he offered me a fantastic deal on the apartment. He asked me to pay rents monthly as opposed to the two-year down payment practice by property owners. When I finally moved in, my relationship with Mr Ajala blossomed to that between father and son. I do not enjoy a very cordial relationship with my father, and so Mr Ajala had me thinking I was a boy again; having a different experience with a loving father. The man was lavish with counsel and financial support such that he even encouraged me to get married. When I took his advice, the landlord offered to sponsor my nuptial event.

Tinu and I were heartthrobs and it was only fitting that we got hitched. The landlord was also unbelievably kind to my wife. He used to come in and out of our home and dined with us regularly. He didn't share the luxury of such special relationship with the other tenants except Tinu and I. The landlord had a wife who didn't seem to mind that the old man dined and wined with his young tenant and family.  His children, he told us, were grown and all lived abroad with their families.  However, our domestic hassles began when my mother first visited our home. Tinu was in her first trimester of pregnancy when my mother came calling.  She couldn't bear to see the “outrageous” spectacle of goodness and happiness around landlord and tenant. For one, Tinu who didn't hold a job would have the landlord around while I'm away at work. She entertained the old man with food and her cheery company. Tinu had also taken to Mr Ajala like he was her father-in-law. He actually made provisions for my family whenever he wanted to be in our company, but my mother thought the dalliance could compromise my marriage. An idle wife, she thought was an easy quarry for an overbearing landlord. To make amends, we found a temping job for Tinu in a shopping mall. Initially, I had reasoned with her but her apprehensions refused to abate. When it became obvious that our landlord would not be deterred by my mother's intervention, she insisted that we should leave the house.

The idea of leaving the convenience of my home for the unknown was something I could never consent to. My mother's influence looms large in my life and it was hard for me having to turn her down. We have really had it rough from my father. A polygamist, my father didn't really have love for us. He had openly denounced me as his biological son, but my mother's love and protection had been my stay. My father saw me through school but didn't show any special interest more than that. When I introduced Tinu before we got married, his indifference would have spoilt the show but for my landlord. Mr Ajala stood by me and seemed genuinely interested in my welfare like a father.  I didn't know any landlord who could fit into Mr Ajala's shoes in his dealings with tenants. After consulting with the landlord, I asked my mother to take her leave of my family. A heated argument ensued, but I needed time to sort out my predicament. Tinu's pregnancy term was healthy and I was doing well at my job. The thought of approaching fatherhood was all too great and our landlord was there to share my joy. We chatted endlessly about family life and he assured me that I'd be a proud father.

Things returned to normal in our household until the birth of “our” baby. My first contact with the new member of our family was greeted with a bolt from the blue. The baby swaddled in the cot in my living room bore a striking resemblance to my landlord. All my mother's warnings rushed to my head. Alas, she was right; Tinu had been having an affair with Mr Ajala. I wanted to storm the landlord’s apartment with a kitchen knife...

[To be continued]