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MY DAD HAS BEEN SLEEPING WITH ME SINCE I WAS A CHILD - NIGERIAN MOVIES 2018
Whatsapp My brothers started recording as soon as they hit the parking lot. I never noticed how dark his windows were tinted, but now it made sense. He flashed his headlights twice. Was that something you did when you were meeting a teenager for sex in the alley behind a sporting goods store? They drove closer, unsure of what would happen next. Dad had sent the time and location for the meet-up, expecting a quickie. When he realized it was his two sons in the car, and not the guy who had responded to his personal ad, he hit the gas and his tires screeched as he took off in the opposite direction. They pulled up to him like they were waiting at a stoplight. The camera recorded its own reflection in the dark glass as they waited. After years of trying, we had finally caught my father soliciting sex from strangers. This was not the way my father would have written our story. In the Christian parenting books he authored, we were always the perfect family. We had the big house in the country, five happy kids, and an American flag flying on the front porch. Mom had graduated with a degree in home economics and thought it was cruel when other families allowed their kids to eat dinner in front of the TV. She had a lot of opinions on how other people should raise their children and had been outraged when our church opened a daycare center. It was a symptom of feminism and put everyone in jeopardy by enabling women to go back to work. Dad was equally passionate about promoting family values and lobbied against gay marriage at the state capitol. He also served as an elder at our Southern Baptist church while running the PR department of a Fortune company. Most days he would be gone before we woke up and arrive home shortly before dinner. Mom would rush to greet him, tearing off her oven mitts so she could take his briefcase. Dad had a secret. Once he finished, I pretended I wanted to get on Instant Messenger. Instead, I downloaded a hacker program that secretly logged all encrypted keystrokes on our family computer. There were hundreds of emails from men with equally sexual screen names. Addresses and photos were being exchanged. Some of the boys looked my age. I was completely out of my depth. I was sitting in our family room with sunlight streaming through the windows and my childhood artwork decorating the walls, but I felt like a dark part of myself had been exposed. I was no longer living in a world where some of us were entitled to wag a finger of judgment. It took hours, but I read every single email. When I was done I logged out of the account, deleted the hacker program and decided to pretend like it had never happened. I needed to believe the lie and continue being the smiling daughter of a godly man. The years passed and I never said a word. I hid the secret inside of me but it began to take a toll. Mom took me to a doctor and he told me I had migraines. The next year I began to suffer from excruciating stomach pain that left me unable to eat. Mom took me to a doctor and he told me I had ulcers. After that, my hair began to fall out. My body turned against me and refused to give me my period. She eventually took me to another doctor and he told me I had depression. We stopped going to doctors. Mom was busy at a church fundraiser so Dad came to rescue me. We were rarely alone together but he was in a good mood and told jokes as we followed the tow truck. I remember feeling confused by how easily I could laugh aloud while simultaneously despising him. I decided I would tell my Mom that night. I was the only one of my siblings still living at home. My brothers were either engaged or married, and starting their own families. I told her it would take longer than a commercial. I told her it was something that would ruin her life. Half an hour later she walked in and sat on my bed. She swore she hated him and planned to leave after my brother got married in a few months. Then she told me I could never tell anyone about it. She suggested I delay my college enrollment and go stay with her cousin in Seattle. I was too numb to even think about it. That next day I packed everything into my repaired Honda Civic and moved into the college dorms. Mom told him everything and he demanded to speak with me. My phone would not stop ringing. We sat on opposite sides of a vinyl booth while my Dad explained it all away. I still pray for the courage to go through with it. He stayed quiet until I told him what he wanted to hear. I am not…that way. My Mom leaned forward like a Girl Scout closing a cookie sale. Then autumn passed and a miracle occurred. I asked what word better described a man who snuck off to have sex with men while his wife and kids thought he was at work. This only made her angry. I began coming home to sleep in my old bed. I was always careful to charge the laptop back to the same percentage it had been before I slid it back into his briefcase. I showed it to my Mom, confident she would finally believe me. They decided to change the locks to their house. I spent the entire afternoon listening to her lecture me on the importance of forgiveness. She said their marriage was stronger than ever. While she was in the bathroom I snuck into my old bedroom and cracked a window. It was just enough to keep it from latching but not enough for her to notice. Later that night I parked at the end of their gravel road and walked the rest of the way in darkness. The house was silent as I slid the screen off the window and climbed through. I wonder if that offended him. I pictured him with two computer screens open — one for looking up scripture, and another to Mapquest the location of his next bathroom rendezvous. We were never going to have the cool kind of gay dad. Every time he denied my accusations, I became more motivated to dig deeper. It angered me that a man like him could so easily hide within the walls of a church or a seemingly happy home. I promptly failed my classes because I was too busy scouring homosexual hookup sites in search of my father. I decided to drop out of college but I was too ashamed to tell my roommates, so I kept leaving my house at the same time every day. I decided my new reason for existing was so I could rescue my mom. His generous Christianity came across in his willingness to give blowjobs without need for reciprocity. To prove it was him, I responded to the ad. I told him I was a seventeen-year-old named Rex who was looking to hook up with an older man. He responded almost immediately. I wondered whether he was e-mailing from the couch while my Mom folded his laundry. Either way, I was going to bust him. This was going to be my smoking gun. Shortly after five p. I shrunk back on the couch, watching it vibrate on my coffee table. The room was painfully silent until the phone buzzed with a notification. I was scheduled to work so I called my two oldest brothers. They decided to show up and record everything. He bolted, they followed him, and he finally stopped, ready for the confrontation. The camera rolled as they waited for something to happen. The low rumble of their car engines filled the silence until my dad finally rolled his window down. His face was calm and smug.
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