THE MAN SLEEPING BESIDE MUMMY EVERY NIGHT

CHAPTER 2

When I finally opened the door that night, nobody was there. The corridor was empty, but I could still feel the weight of that voice, the way it called my name slowly like it wanted to come inside. I didn’t sleep till morning. I just stayed under my bed till the sky turned pale and the sound of birds started.

By afternoon, Mummy was sweeping the compound when a car horn sounded outside. She looked up, dropped her broom, and ran to open the gate. I followed her quietly, thinking maybe it was one of Daddy’s friends. But the moment the gate opened, my legs went weak. Daddy stepped out of the car, carrying his black travelling bag — the same one he used whenever he went to Port Harcourt.

Mummy froze, the broom still in her hand.

“Darling,” Daddy said, smiling like nothing was wrong. “I’m back.”

“Back from where?” she asked, her face changing small-small.

He frowned a bit. “From Port Harcourt now. I told you I was going for that training at the branch office.”

She blinked and dropped the broom slowly. “But… you’ve been here since last week. You didn’t travel anywhere.”

I looked at both of them, confused. The Daddy standing there was wearing the same shirt I saw by the gate that night. The same shoes with red mud. He even smelled like dust and fuel. But the Daddy inside had been home all week.

I waited for Mummy to laugh, to say it was a joke, but she didn’t. She just kept staring like she didn’t know which one to believe.

Inside the house, the other Daddy came out from the sitting room. The two of them stood there, facing each other. The same height. The same voice. The same smile that never reached their eyes.

“What’s going on here?” the one with the bag asked.

“I should be asking you that,” the other one replied calmly. “Who are you?”

Mummy started shaking. “Both of you stop it! Stop it right now!”

But the two men didn’t stop. They looked at each other like twins that didn’t want to exist in the same world. Their eyes carried the same anger, the same pain. Even I could feel it. I wanted to run, but my feet didn’t move.

Neighbours began coming out. Some peeped from their windows, some gathered by the fence. Everybody was whispering. I heard one woman say, “Isn’t that Madam Chioma’s husband? Why are there two of him?” Another one said, “I saw that man last week. He doesn’t greet anybody.”

Before long, one of them shouted, “Call the police!”

That evening, the compound was full. Police siren blaring, neighbours murmuring, Mummy crying quietly in a corner. The two men stood near the gate, both saying they were the real husband. The officers checked their IDs — same name, same photo, same everything. One officer wiped his face and said, “I don’t understand. How is this possible?”

They asked Mummy to point at her real husband. She opened her mouth but nothing came out.

“Madam, talk now!” one officer said.

She looked at both of them. One of them reached for her hand. The other called her pet name softly — the same way Daddy used to. I saw her chest move fast like someone who wanted to run but didn’t know where.

In the end, the police took one away. I don’t even know which one. The other one just stood by the gate, watching as the car drove off with the man that looked exactly like him.

Mummy fell on her knees, crying. Her wrapper came loose, and she didn’t even care. I wanted to hold her, but I couldn’t move.

The man who remained turned slowly and looked at me. His face was calm, but something in his eyes wasn’t right.

He smiled, the same smile that never reached his eyes, and said, “Adaora, go and tell your mummy to stop crying. I’m home now.”

But as he spoke, I noticed something strange — his shadow wasn’t touching the ground.

THE MAN SLEEPING BESIDE MUMMY EVERY NIGHT

CHAPTER 3

The man standing by the gate smiled at me that night, but something about that smile stayed in my head for days. Every time I tried to forget, the picture of his shadow refusing to touch the ground would come back like it was following me around.

After that day, Mummy changed. She no longer laughed the way she used to. She started locking her door when she wanted to make calls. Sometimes I would hear her whispering softly at midnight, her voice trembling like someone begging. At first, I thought she was praying, but one night, when I woke up to drink water, I heard her clearly.

“I did what you asked,” she said. “Now stop threatening me. Please, I beg you.”

I froze at the door, holding my cup tight. Who was she talking to? Her voice was so low and shaky, like she was hiding from someone inside the same house. When she ended the call, she sat on the bed quietly, pressing her phone to her chest like it was something sacred. Then she started crying without sound, just her shoulders moving slowly up and down.

The next morning, she acted normal again. She even cooked rice and plantain and called me “my baby” like nothing happened. But she kept glancing at the gate as if expecting somebody to walk in. The new Daddy, the one who stayed, started behaving differently too. He would ask strange questions about my school — things he already knew before.

“What’s your teacher’s name again?” he asked one evening while I was doing homework.

I looked at him. “You know my teacher, Daddy. You even met her during Open Day.”

He smiled, scratching his head. “Ah, yes, yes. I was just testing you.”

But his eyes didn’t match the smile. They were watching me too closely, like he was studying my reactions. Even the way he walked was different now — slower, more careful, like someone learning to pretend to be another person.

Days passed, and the house started feeling heavy. I noticed Mummy counting money one evening, then later that night, I saw her open Daddy’s drawer and take something out quietly. She didn’t know I was watching from the corridor. The next day, Daddy’s voice echoed through the house, angry.

“Who took my envelope?”

Mummy came out from the room, tying her wrapper. “Which envelope?” she asked.

“The one in my drawer. Important papers and cash were inside!”

She raised her eyebrows, pretending not to know, but her hands were shaking slightly.

“Maybe you misplaced it,” she said.

Daddy just stared at her for a long time before walking out. I could feel the air between them — cold, tense, like something invisible was growing.

That night, Mummy locked herself in the bathroom and made another call. I stood close to the door, pretending to look for my toothbrush.

“Seyi, I’ve done everything,” she whispered. “Please stop calling me like this. He’s here now, watching me every minute. If he finds out—”

She paused suddenly, as if someone entered her mind. I ran quietly to my room, my heart beating fast. Uncle Seyi — Daddy’s business partner. I remembered his name from the stories Daddy used to tell before all this madness began.

The next morning, Mummy avoided eye contact with everyone. She barely spoke, just washed clothes and cleaned the house endlessly. I tried to tell her about the whisper I heard that night by the window, but she didn’t let me talk.

“Don’t say things like that again,” she said sharply, her voice trembling. “Do you hear me, Adaora? Don’t ever say it again.”

She touched my cheek and forced a smile, but I could see her eyes glistening.

That night, the compound felt too quiet. Even the crickets sounded far away. I couldn’t sleep, so I turned to the window to look at the moon. Then I heard it — three soft knocks, like someone testing if I was awake.

“Tok tok tok.”

My body went stiff. I didn’t move. I just stared at the curtain.

Then the voice came — the same calm voice I heard before everything changed.

“Adaora,” it whispered. “Open the curtain. I need your help.”

The voice was gentle, almost kind. But I already knew that voice. It was my other Daddy. The one the police took away.

And when I looked closely at the curtain, I saw a shadow standing outside — this time, it was touching the ground.

THE MAN SLEEPING BESIDE MUMMY EVERY NIGHT

CHAPTER 4

The voice came again, quiet but firm. “Adaora, please. I’m not here to hurt you.”

I didn’t move at first. My heart was making noise inside my chest, but something in that voice sounded tired, almost like pain. I went closer to the window, slowly pulled the curtain, and what I saw made my breath stop. It was him — Daddy. Or at least, the one the police took away. His shirt was torn, one side of his face bruised, and his lips were cracked white like someone who hadn’t eaten in days. He looked weak, but his eyes were clear.

“Don’t shout,” he said softly. “They will hear you.”

I wanted to run to Mummy’s room, but my legs refused to move. The way he was looking at me — like someone begging for his own life — kept me standing there. “Daddy,” I whispered. “But they said—”

He shook his head. “Don’t believe what they said. That man inside is not me. I’m your real father.”

The way he said it made something twist inside my stomach. I wanted to believe him, but everything around me had become confusing. “How do I know?” I asked, my voice shaking.

He smiled faintly. “Because I remember things nobody else can. You used to hide your biscuits under the bed so your cousins wouldn’t steal it. And your favourite colour is yellow. Not blue like your mummy thinks.”

My throat tightened. He was right. I never told anyone that. I looked behind me, afraid the other Daddy might walk in. “What do you want?” I asked.

“I just need water,” he said. “Please, my daughter. Just small water.”

I tiptoed to the kitchen, careful not to wake Mummy. I poured water into a bottle and returned to the window. The night air was cold, carrying the smell of wet grass. “Promise you won’t hurt anybody,” I whispered.

“I promise,” he said. “But Adaora, listen to me carefully. Something bad is happening. Before the accident, that man—Seyi—forced me to sign some papers. He said it was for business, but I later found out it was to take everything from me. Your mummy was scared. She didn’t want to be part of it, but he threatened her. That’s why she’s acting strange.”

I felt tears burn my eyes. “But why is there another you inside?”

He sighed deeply, rubbing his face. “I don’t know what they did, Adaora. I woke up in the hospital two days after the police took me, but nobody believed me. They said I was mad, that my wife already had her husband at home. But that thing inside your house — it’s not human.”

My breath caught. “What do you mean?”

He looked around nervously. “You won’t understand now. Just don’t tell your mummy I’m here. If that man finds out, he’ll finish me.”

He reached out a shaky hand through the small space under the gate. His fingers looked pale and dirty, trembling as they touched the iron bar. I knelt down slowly and pushed the bottle of water through the gap. He took it quickly and drank like someone who had been walking in the desert.

“Thank you,” he said. “You’re my only hope now. Just act normal in the house. Pretend you don’t know I’m here.”

I nodded, but my head was full of noise. I could hear the clock ticking from the sitting room, the wind brushing against the banana leaves, the sound of crickets calling. I turned back to look at him again, but his face had changed — harder now, eyes darker. “Go before he wakes,” he said sharply.

I ran quietly inside, my bare feet brushing the cold tiles. I went straight to my room and covered myself with the bedsheet, pretending to sleep. But I could still hear Mummy’s voice from her room — low and trembling again, as if she was on another secret call.

“I told you, he’s gone,” she whispered. “Stop calling me, please. You’re scaring me.”

The door creaked, and I heard footsteps in the passage. It was Daddy — the one inside. His shadow passed my door slowly, stopping for a few seconds before moving on. The next sound I heard was Mummy gasping, then silence.

Morning came heavy and strange. Daddy changed all the gate keys that day. He told Mummy it was for security reasons, but his eyes stayed fixed on her, watching every move she made. He also started locking his phone, even taking it to the bathroom when bathing. Mummy stopped sleeping well. Her eyes always red, her smile forced.

Each day, I watched both of them like a secret camera. Nobody trusted anybody anymore. Even the house itself felt like it was holding its breath.

That night, when everyone was asleep, I sneaked back to the window. The moonlight fell across the compound like a quiet lamp. I crawled close to the gate again. He was there — sitting on the floor, looking weak but alive.

“Daddy,” I whispered.

He looked up slowly, his eyes soft again.

“I brought you another bottle,” I said, sliding it through the small space under the bars.

He smiled faintly and reached for it. His fingers brushed mine — cold, too cold for someone alive.

And that was when I noticed something behind him in the darkness — another shadow, moving slowly toward the gate.

The water bottle slipped from my hand before I could even breathe.

THE MAN SLEEPING BESIDE MUMMY EVERY NIGHT

CHAPTER 5

The bottle slipped from my hand, rolled under the gate, and stopped beside his leg. My breath almost left me. There was another shadow behind him, tall and quiet, moving slowly like smoke. I wanted to shout but my voice didn’t come out. By the time I blinked again, both shadows were gone — Daddy, and the one behind him. Only the bottle of water remained on the ground, still rolling from side to side.

The next morning, the house carried a strange silence. Mummy didn’t speak much during breakfast, just kept stirring her tea long after the sugar had melted. The man we called Daddy sat opposite her, pretending to read something on his phone. I watched both of them carefully, my spoon hanging in midair. His eyes were dull, but every time Mummy’s hand moved, he followed it, like someone expecting an attack.

When Mummy went to bathe, I tiptoed to his briefcase. He always kept it close to his chair, like it was full of secrets. I opened it slowly, praying the zipper wouldn’t make noise. Inside were files, one brown envelope, and a wallet that smelled of old paper. I pulled out an ID card, and my heart skipped. It was his face, but not really. The picture looked blurred around the edges, like it was copied or printed twice. I turned it around — something didn’t sit right. The name printed there had the same surname, but a different middle name.

I stared at it for long, my hands sweating. Who was he really?

Before I could put it back, a voice shouted behind me, sharp like thunder. “Adaora!”

I jumped. The ID card slipped from my hand. Mummy was standing by the door, her towel tied around her chest, water dripping from her hair. Her eyes were wide, like she had seen a ghost. “Who told you to touch that?” she asked.

“Mummy, I just wanted to—”

Her hand landed on my cheek before I finished. It wasn’t too hard, but it carried fear. “Don’t ever go near his things again, do you hear me?”

I nodded, tears burning my eyes. I ran into my room and shut the door. My heart was beating too fast. Through the thin wall, I could hear them arguing outside.

“What did you tell her?” Mummy asked. Her voice was trembling.

“I didn’t tell her anything,” he replied. “But you should control that girl before she ruins everything.”

“Ruins what?” she shouted. “You promised this would end quietly!”

There was a short silence, then I heard his voice again — lower now, but heavy. “If anyone finds out I’m not him, you’re going down with me.”

Mummy started crying. I pressed my ear against the wall, trying to make sure I heard right. Not him? What did that mean?

They kept arguing for a while, throwing words I couldn’t understand — things like “papers,” “signature,” “money,” and “agreement.” Then I heard the sound of something breaking, followed by footsteps leaving the sitting room.

I sat on the floor, hugging my knees. Everything that used to feel normal in this house was now strange. The laughter, the smell of food, even the sound of the clock ticking — everything felt like lies.

When the noise finally stopped, I opened my small album. It was the one that had Daddy’s old pictures — the real Daddy. I flipped through until I saw the one from my eighth birthday. He was smiling there, his teeth slightly uneven, a tiny scar under his left eye. The man living in our house didn’t have that scar.

I held the photo beside the ID card I had hidden in my dress pocket before Mummy slapped me. I compared them carefully. The difference was small, but it was there. The jawline, the eyes, even the smile — they didn’t match.

That moment, I realized something that made my stomach turn cold.

The man who slept beside Mummy every night was not my father.

And the real one — the one who begged me for water — might not be alive anymore.

But before I could think further, I heard footsteps outside my room again. They stopped right by the door. A faint knock followed, then that same calm voice.

“Adaora,” he said. “Open the door. I want to talk to you.”

I hid the picture under my pillow, my breath caught in my throat.

Because the voice that called me wasn’t Mummy’s — and it wasn’t the man inside either.

It was the same voice I heard from the gate.

THE MAN SLEEPING BESIDE MUMMY EVERY NIGHT

CHAPTER 6

The voice came again, soft and familiar. “Adaora, open the door. I just want to talk.”

I sat still on the bed, my breath shallow. That was Dãdd¥’s voice — not the man inside, not Mummy’s — but the real Dãdd¥ I saw by the gate. My whole body felt cold. I didn’t move. I waited and listened. The knocking stopped after a while, and everything went quiet again. I stayed that way until the morning light crept into my room.

When I woke up properly, mümm¥was already dressed for work. Her eyes were swollen, and her hair looked rough, like she hadn’t slept. She tried to smile when I greeted her, but her lips only trembled. The man was in the sitting room, wearing his wristwatch and pretending to read the newspaper. Their silence was heavy — like when thunder hides behind the clouds, waiting to strike.

At school, I couldn’t concentrate. My heart was not in class. The teacher was talking about fractions, but all I could think of was the voice from last night and the photo under my pillow. I told myself I would tell my teacher everything. Maybe she would help. Maybe she would believe me.

When the closing bell rang, I packed my books slowly, rehearsing how I would say it. But before I could leave, I heard a familiar horn outside. I looked through the window — it was Dãdd¥’s car. My stomach tightened. He hardly came to pick me. It was always mümm¥or the driver.

The teacher came out of the staff room, surprised. “Ah, Adaora, is that your Dãdd¥?”

I nodded slowly. “Yes, ma.”

He waved at me to come quickly. His face carried that same forced smile he always used when people were watching. I followed him quietly, my legs heavy. As soon as I entered the car, he locked the doors and started the engine.

“Where’s Mūmm¥?” I asked.

He looked straight ahead. “She said I should bring you to her. She’s waiting somewhere.”

“Where?”

He paused for a moment, then said, “At a guest house. She went to meet somebody about work.”

Something didn’t feel right. mümm¥ never mentioned anything like that in the morning. I looked at his face — he was sweating even though the air conditioner was on. He kept touching his phone, making short calls and cutting them before anyone answered. Once, I heard him whisper, “Yes, Boss, I’m almost there.”

My heart started beating fast. I pressed my hands together on my lap, trying to keep calm.

The road we followed wasn’t the usual one home. I knew that road — it led to a quiet area where there were few houses and no children playing. I wanted to speak, but my voice got lost. He kept driving and humming a strange tune under his breath.

When we finally stopped, I saw the signboard of a small guest house in front. My chest grew tight. He turned to me and said, “Don’t be scared. Your mümm¥is inside. Just come down.”

I shook my head. “Let’s call her first.”

He frowned. “I said come down.”

His voice changed. It sounded like something else was speaking through him. His eyes didn’t blink. I reached for the door, but it was locked from his side.

That moment, I saw a taxi pulling up from the corner. The door opened fast, and mümm¥ jumped out. Her wrapper was half-t!ed, and she wasn’t even wearing slippers properly. “Adaora!” she shouted. “Come here now!”

The man’s hand froze on the steering. Mümm¥ ran to my side, banging on the car window. “Open this door!” she cr!ed. “L£ãve my dãūghter al0ne!”

He hesitated, then unlocked the door. mümm¥ dragged me out before he could even turn his face. She held me so tight that my head pressed into her chest. Her whole body was shaking.

“What’s going on?” I asked, my voice breaking.

She didn’t answer. She opened the taxi door and pushed me inside. The driver, a tired-looking man with grey hair, just started driving without waiting for instructions. I turned back to look — the man was still standing by his car, his face dark and calm like nothing just happened. Then, without warning, he entered his car and drove off fast, almost hitting the pavement.

Inside the taxi, Mūmm¥’s hands were shak!ng. She kept looking through the back window like she was expecting to be followed. Her breathing was loud.

“Mūmm¥, what’s happening?” I asked again.

She turned to me slowly, her eyes full of tears. “Adaora,” she said, her voice cracking. “He’s not your father.”

I froze. “What?”

She wiped her eyes roughly. “I made a mistake. I thought he would help us. I didn’t know it would turn out like this.”

I couldn’t speak. The air in the taxi suddenly felt heavy. The driver looked at us through the mirror but didn’t say a word.

I finally whispered, “Then who is he?”

mümm¥looked away, covering her face with her hand. “Someone dangerous,” she said quietly. “Someone who knows too much about your father. Adaora, we need to run.”

The taxi passed a bend, the road stretching into the distance. mümm¥held my hand tighter, her fingers cold. I turned my head toward the window — and that was when I saw it.

A black car, the same one from before, was following us closely.

The driver noticed too. He muttered something under his breath and pressed the accelerator.

Mūmm¥’s grip on my hand became even stronger. “Don’t look back,” she whispered. “Just keep your head down.”

But I couldn’t stop myself. I turned slightly and saw the man behind the wheel. He was smiling — that same empty smile he always used when people were watching.

And this time, I knew he wasn’t going to stop.

THE MAN SLEEPING BESIDE MUMMY EVERY NIGHT

CHAPTER 7

The black car was still following us when the road curved into the bush path. I could see its lights flashing faintly in the side mirror, like it was waiting for the right moment to come closer. Mūmm¥’s fingers held mine tight, her eyes never leaving the back window. She told the driver to keep going straight, not to stop no matter what. The man just nodded and pressed the pedal harder. Dust rose behind us as the taxi rattled through the rough road.

We didn’t stop until we reached Mūmm¥’s village, a quiet place surrounded by tall trees and old mud fences. Her uncle, who everyone called Pa Sunday, was standing outside his compound when we arrived. He was an old retired soldier with a voice that sounded like stone scraping metal. The moment he saw Mūmm¥, he didn’t ask questions. He just opened the gate and told us to come inside quickly.

Inside the house, the air smelled of kerosene and old wood. Pa Sunday locked the gate with a thick chain and looked at Mūmm¥ with suspicion. “Tina, wetin you do?” he asked. His voice carried both worry and disappointment. Mūmm¥ sat down slowly and covered her face with her scarf. For a long time, nobody spoke. The only sound was the ticking of the wall clock.

When she finally raised her head, her eyes were red. “Uncle,” she said quietly, “I made a mistake. I trusted the wrong man.”

Pa Sunday’s face tightened. “You mean that man wey claim say na your husband? The one you say na Dãdd¥ to Adaora?”

Mūmm¥ nodded slowly. “His name is Seyi. He worked with my husband before he fell sick. He was always helping with documents, bank things… anything we needed. I didn’t know he was planning something.”

I sat quietly, hugging my knees, trying to understand. The name Seyi sounded strange on her lips, like something she didn’t want to remember.

She continued, “When your Dãdd¥ took ill, we had money problems. Hospital bills, business money missing — everything was falling apart. I panicked. Seyi came to me one night and said he could help me take a small amount from your father’s company account, just to settle the bills. He said nobody would know. He said he would fix the papers himself. I was desperate. I agreed.”

Pa Sunday hissed under his breath and looked away. “Tina, you don fall for old trick.”

“I know,” she said, her voice shaking. “But that small lie grew into something I couldn’t control. After your Dãdd¥ died, Seyi told me he needed me to sign one last paper to close the account. He came with a document that already had my husband’s signature on it. I asked him how he got it, and he said it was just to help me move on. Before I knew it, he started coming to the house often — bringing food, helping Adaora with homework, acting like family.”

Her words were heavy. I could see her chest rising and falling fast, like she was carrying a load inside.

“One day,” she continued, “he told me to marry him secretly. He said we would make it look like I was still with my husband, so nobody would question how the money left the account. He even showed me an ID card with your father’s face — same eyes, same smile, everything. That was when I realized he had been planning it all along.”

Pa Sunday frowned. “You mean say the man look exactly like your husband? How?”

She swallowed hard. “Uncle, Seyi used to work as an IT specialist. He had access to your Dãdd¥’s passport photos, company database, even his medical records. He took those pictures and changed his face — surgery, makeup, and one of those photo tricks. He said it was for protection, but it was all a lie. He made himself look like my husband so he could use the identity to access more money.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I remembered the man’s face clearly — his voice, his smell, his laughter. Everything felt real. I whispered, “So all this time, he was pretending?”

Mūmm¥ nodded slowly, tears rolling down her cheek. “Yes, Adaora. He fooled everyone. Even me.”

Pa Sunday stood up and walked to the window. “If he can go that far, then he won’t stop till he finish what he start. You and this girl go stay here till I figure out how to handle him.”

That night, we didn’t eat. Mūmm¥ lay beside me on the small mat, staring at the ceiling, her mind clearly far away. I could hear Pa Sunday outside, pacing and talking softly on the phone to someone he called “Major.”

Around midnight, the power went out. The only light came from the moon through the cracked window. I could hear frogs croaking and the sound of a distant engine passing the main road.

I tried to close my eyes, but I kept remembering the man’s smile — that fake calmness he wore like a mask. I turned to Mūmm¥ and asked, “Will he find us here?”

She brushed my hair with her hand and said, “Not here, my child. Not with your uncle around.” But her voice trembled as she said it.

Just as I was about to drift into sleep, a strange sound came from outside — the soft crunch of tyres on gravel. Pa Sunday’s footsteps stopped. I heard the gate chain rattle slightly, like someone was touching it carefully.

Then the low hum of an engine came again, very close. I sat up and looked through the small hole in the curtain. A black car was parked by the road, its headlights off, its engine running quietly.

Pa Sunday slowly reached for his torchlight and switched it off. He stood behind the window, watching. The car didn’t move. It just stayed there, humming like a living thing waiting to strike.

Mūmm¥ pulled me close to her chest, whispering, “Don’t make a sound.”

We stayed that way, holding our breath, as the car’s door opened slowly and a shadow stepped out.