Overflow Books

ANNOUNCEMENT

I have not posted since the beginning of the week. I am so sorry about the inconsistency. I had to settle some things offline. I will be posting next week.

By the way, an important announcement is coming on this page🤗😊. I have mixed feelings as regards it, but yeah it drops soon.

UNTAMED
Episode 13

Tamilore was deeply bothered. A restraining order. Her mother had gotten her friends in the court to place a restraining order on her father. No wonder he never reached out. No wonder he was never present. Her father had not abandoned her. Her mum had pushed him away.

A soft relief washed through her chest, but it quickly dissolved into a heavier ache. It felt as though someone had reopened an old wound she had managed to live with. Why had her mother separated their family? Why had she hurt the man she loved so deeply? Why go so far just to wound him?

Her heart was full of questions. Still, she found herself trying to understand her mother, even though the answers were nowhere in sight. What could have driven her to that point?

"Tamilore, I’m back". She heard Lydia’s voice ring from outside. She blinked, jolted out of her thoughts. She opened the door to find Lydia looking like someone who had fought a long battle with hospital stress. She smelled of disinfectant, tiredness, and one stubborn patient’s complaint.

"How was your day?" Tamilore asked as Lydia stepped in and dropped her bag with the kind of dramatic exhaustion only Lydia could pull off.

"How will a doctor’s day in a public hospital be like? Stressful, my dear. Stressful. But today was special. I prayed for one of my patients", Lydia said excited. She sat down on the bare floor.

Tamilore raised a brow and smiled knowingly. Trust Lydia to start a full documentary the moment she crossed the door. It was always surprising to remember that the same girl could act shy outside. Inside, she was a complete talkative.

"So what happened when you prayed for this patient?" She asked her friend.

"He got healed. Instantly." Lydia was still in shock. "I had been sensing for some days that his case was peculiar. Today, I felt the leading to lay hands on him. I did, and God healed him immediately."

"Wow, that’s amazing!" She exclaimed.

"I’m telling you, my sister. When God does a miracle and it shocks even you. When God told me He had a healing ministry for me, I thought He meant healing with medicine, not with holy hands. God is amazing".

"I love what God is doing with you, my sister," Tamilore said, smiling.

As she spoke, she felt a quiet stirring in her spirit. A small hunger. A gentle pull. What would God have her do? As she and Lydia continued talking, she could sense a new burden finding a resting place in her heart.

```

"I got a job, Mama. I got a job," Tamilore screamed happily into the phone. She was sharing the good news with her mentor, barely able to keep from dancing.

"I am so happy for you, Tamilore. I knew God would provide a new job for you", her mentor responded on the call. Her voice sounded like she was laughing. "More big wins in Jesus' name".

"Amen!"

~~~~

"Hello Daddy, this is Tamilore and Oluwaseun. We got your number from Dr Lydia. Please reach out to us if you listen to this."

Daniel Raphael listened to the voice note for the fifth time. His girls. His girls had reached out to him.

For the first time in a long while, something warm broke inside his chest.

© Deborah Oluwasegun

As Inspired By The Revealer of Secrets

Overflow Books

Untamed

Episode Twelve

Tamilore thought about the conversation she had with her mentor earlier that morning as she sent out job applications. Her mentor had collected the book where she wrote all the offences she felt she had committed against God, looked through it briefly, and burnt it the same way she had burnt the previous one. Watching the book go up in flames felt strangely freeing, like watching emotional baggage turn to ash.

Her mentor had then handed her a scripture from the book of Isaiah.
He blots out our transgressions, the chastisement of our peace was upon Him, and by His stripes we are healed.

Tamilore held on to that scripture as though it was the last thread tying her sanity together. Healing… she needed that desperately.

```

Later that day, Tamilore attended her sister’s introduction ceremony. The moment she stepped into her mother’s compound, she transformed into a certified firstborn daughter: carrying trays, ensuring the cooler of jollof didn’t mysteriously disappear, settling unnecessary quarrels between aunties, and smiling for pictures she didn’t want to take.

By the end of the ceremony, she was thoroughly exhausted. Her feet were aching, her cheeks hurt from forced smiles, and her head throbbed from the chorus of nosy aunties.

And of course, the famous question came repeatedly like a national anthem.

"When are you bringing your own man home?"

Some said it with genuine concern. Others said it with the kind of curiosity that deserved a fine from the federal government. One aunty even whispered, “You are next in Jesus' name,” the way someone might whisper a curse. Tamilore had simply smiled and nodded, praying internally for strength not to roll her eyes.

Seyi walked up to her later, smiling widely. "Sista mi, thank you for today. I really appreciate all you do for me."

Tamilore smiled back. Her sister looked so happy. Radiant even. Nothing like the nervous bride-to-be she had calmed down that morning when Seyi almost cried because her gele wasn’t sitting properly.

"Today would have been perfect if daddy and Muyiwa were present," Seyi added, her voice dropping into sadness.

Tamilore felt her chest tighten. There was something about the way Seyi said “daddy” that tugged at the part of her heart she kept sealed.

"I actually heard about daddy from my friend," she said slowly. "He is not in Nigeria and was very sick years ago."

Seyi’s eyes widened. "Really? Why did you not tell me?"

Tamilore swallowed. Her tongue suddenly felt heavy. "I wanted you to have your big day without drama," she lied lightly.

The lie tasted bitter.

Lord… forgive me, she prayed in her heart. This lie is small but my conscience is loud.

Seyi nodded thoughtfully, but Tamilore saw the slight confusion in her sister’s eyes. Seyi was forgetful, yes, but she wasn’t foolish. Memories came and went with her like the wind. One minute she remembered their father leaving; the next she could barely recall what caused the quarrel between their parents.

Tamilore’s mind drifted to the little burnt books—pages of anger, accusations, and hurt. She remembered how her mentor had placed the scripture of forgiveness in her hands. She had nodded that day. But forgiveness was easier in theory than in practice. Especially when pain had settled in her bones for twelve years.

"I lied," Tamilore confessed suddenly.

Seyi blinked. "Lied about what?"

"It wasn’t about your big day," she said, biting her lower lip. "I was not ready to let go of the past." She exhaled deeply, as though her heart was finally letting air out after a long time. "Lydia actually offered to give me his contact, but I refused. I even made her promise not to give him mine."

Seyi stared at her for a moment, then sighed. "Oh, sista mi... I know he hurt us, but I think there might be things we don’t know about why daddy left."

Tamilore looked at her sharply. "We both know why daddy left. He left because of mummy."

"Yes, because of mummy," Seyi said softly, twisting the end of her wrapper absentmindedly, "but it was more than the domestic abuse he suffered."

Tamilore’s forehead creased. "What are you talking about?"

Seyi hesitated, looking around as though the walls had ears. She leaned closer and whispered, "There were things mummy hid. Things daddy went through that we didn’t know."

Her voice trembled. Tamilore had never seen her sister look so unsure, almost guilty, as though she knew something she wasn’t sure she was ready to say.

Tamilore felt her heart thump harder. She suddenly wasn’t sure she wanted the answer, yet she needed it.

```

Far away, Daniel Raphael stared at the pictures from his daughter’s introduction ceremony on Instagram. He zoomed in on every picture, trying to catch a glimpse of Tamilore’s face—her real face, not the smiling one she put on for cameras. She had grown. Both of them had. Twelve years had changed a lot.

What would he not give to restore the relationship he once shared with his girls?

Twelve long years.

One year of refusing to sign divorce papers.
One year in jail, untried, accused of attempting to kidnap his own daughter.
Six years battling cancer and fighting for his life while thinking of two girls who probably thought he no longer loved them.
Four years rebuilding his life, gathering strength, and gathering wealth by the grace of God.

And now, just a few months to wait before he could finally see them again.

He sighed.

His wife, Eniola… she had hurt him badly. Very badly.
Sometimes he wondered if things would have been different, less broken, if he had simply signed the divorce papers when she asked.

He rested his head against the chair and whispered, "God, help me. Help us. Let me fix what is left of my family."

The pictures on his phone glowed softly, showing the two daughters he had prayed for every day since he left.

He hoped they would forgive him.
He hoped they would understand the truth someday.
He hoped… they would let him be their father again.

© Deborah Oluwasegun

As Inspired By The Revealer of Secrets

Overflow Books

Chapter eleven is not quite ready. I will send it in tomorrow

Untamed Episode 7💔

The speck in your friend’s eye. Oluwatamilore opened her Bible as that line of scripture dropped into her heart. New Testament. She flipped to Matthew and read from the beginning until she found it. “Here it is. Matthew chapter seven.” She read silently, And why do you look at the speck in your brother’s eye, but do not consider the plank in your own eye?

The verses spoke about hypocrisy. Lord, how does this relate to me? she asked quietly. She closed her eyes and began to pray.

```

Tamilore resumed work a little late and caught a sharp glare from HR. She slipped into her seat at the reception desk and whispered a quick prayer.

Then the office door opened. Emeka walked in.

Her body froze.
“Why… are you… here?” she stuttered. She wasn’t a stammerer, but lately her nerves always seemed ready to betray her. Her palms became sweaty. She stood up out of courtesy.

“How dare you call this off!” he bellowed. His anger filled the entire reception area. Heads turned. His anger felt like heat against her skin.

“Again, I’m sorry, but it is for the best. I…”

“Keep your useless apology to yourself. A bad tempered woman like you that I decided to tame.” His eyes flashed. “Oh yes, you think I don’t know you have been pretending to be a good person? You are a hypocrite. A big one.”

Her knees weakened. She gripped the desk and slowly sat down. *Hypocrite?*

“Remember your birthday? When you ordered a ride? I was that driver. The one you insulted. The one who saw you screaming obscenities at other drivers.” He laughed bitterly. “That same day I saw you at a restaurant behaving even worse. You embarrassed that poor waiter. It was then I decided I would teach you a lesson you would never forget.

“And so far, all this while, you have pretended. But I guess today you decided to show your true colors. Fake church girl that cannot keep a man.” He hissed. “Just know, there is no break. The relationship is over.”

He turned sharply and walked out.

Tamilore glanced around. Clients and colleagues were staring. Their faces held questions and judgment. She fled to the restroom and broke down in tears.

By the end of the day, she had lost more than her relationship. She lost her job too. Clients had complained for years about her attitude, and even though she had changed, the consequences of her past came knocking loud and clear.

```
An hour after Emeka walked out, Tamilore received a message from HR asking her to come to Mrs. Badejo’s office. Her palms went damp instantly. She tried to steady her breath as she walked down the hallway, praying she wasn’t about to face what her instincts already sensed.

Mrs. Badejo didn’t smile when Tamilore stepped in. She gestured to the chair opposite her desk.

“Tamilore, please sit.”

The tone was enough. Formal. Stripped of every softness the woman usually carried.

“As you are aware,” the HR manager began, “the organisation has been reviewing several internal concerns. After careful consideration, management has decided to discontinue your employment.”

For a moment, Tamilore felt the words hover in the air like smoke.

Mrs. Badejo slid an envelope across the table. “This is your employment termination letter. Your benefits and final salary will be processed within the next few days. You’re also required to return your ID card and any company property before close of work today.”

Tamilore swallowed, hard. “May I know the reason for this decision?”

Mrs. Badejo drew in a short breath. “The letter states it clearly. It’s a management directive, and my role is to communicate it.”

The events of day had Tamilore lying on the couch in the sitting room. She had been crying.
Saying, she had been stunned was an understatement. She had expected a query not a termination letter. She heard someone knock on the door breaking her reverie. Her mother must be back. She stood up from the couch and opened the door. Her sister, Seyi had gone for a business trip outside the country and would not be at home till weekend.

“Welcome back mummy,” she greeted weakly.

Mrs Eniola Raphael looked her over and frowned. “Tamilore, are you sick?”

“No ma,” she replied, though her pounding headache made her shut her eyes briefly. She prayed her mother would not become dramatic.

“Then why do you look like this? Wait. Don’t tell me you could not keep Emeka too?”

Tamilore’s throat tightened. Tears gathered again.

“He broke up with you.” Her mother scoffed. “That is to be expected. You cannot keep a man. Look at your younger sister, Seun. That good girl. By next week Saturday we will be doing her introduction. But you? Useless.”

Tamilore snapped. “I am not Seun!” she screamed before she could stop herself. As long as she can remember, her mother had always compared her with her younger sister. “Stop comparing me to Seun. Yes, she is getting married. So? Yes, she has a better job. So?”

Her mother’s eyes widened. “You have finally gone mad. You are shouting at me? Me? Tamilore? You are shouting at your own mother. Everybody come and see. This useless girl is shouting at me.” She could not believe her daughter will confront her this way. The same child she laboured over for years. The same child she has been praying for.

“Mummy, please stop shouting. Everyone in the community will hear,” she pleaded.

That made her mother angrier. “In my house? First you shout at me, then you tell me to keep quiet. What next? You will beat me? You want to beat me, abi?”

“Mummy, it is not like that. I am just going through a lot right now.”

“I am not interested in what you are going through. You have grown wings, abi? Following that stupid divorcee around…”

“My mentor is not stupid ma,” Tamilore said sharply.

“That is it!” her mother exploded. “I cannot take this anymore. Go into your room, pack every single thing you bought with your money, and get out of my house.”

“Ah mummy. I am sorry.”

“Jade nile mi!” she shouted in Yoruba.

“Mummy, please…”

“Get out!"

© Deborah Oluwasegun

As Inspired By The Revealer of Secrets

Overflow Books