MY HUSBAND KILLED ME TO REPLACE HIS LIFE BUT MY GHOST WILL HUNT HIM TO DEATH
Episode 1
#walexstories
FOLLOW ME Walex's Stories BEFORE YOU MISS ANOTHER EPISODE
My name was Chinyere, and I came from a small, peaceful village called Umueze. Life in the village was not rich in money, but we were rich in laughter, songs, and stories. I was raised by my grandmother who taught me how to cook, farm, and pray. Everyone knew me as the girl who smiled even when the rain fell too hard on her cassava farm.
When I turned twenty-three, I married Obinna, the man who had stolen my heart with his words and good looks. He was tall, muscular, and charming. He could talk like a preacher and sing like a bird. My friends were jealous. They said, “Chinyere, you have found a husband from heaven.”
At first, I believed them.
Obinna treated me like gold. He helped me in the farm, bought me wrappers, and called me sweet names like my queen, my sunshine, the air I breathe. I felt like the happiest woman in the whole world.
But after a few months, everything began to change.
The man who once smiled at me every morning now looked at me with cold eyes. He no longer called me sweet names. He would come home late and sleep facing the wall. I would ask, “Obinna, are you okay?” and he would say, “I’m tired.”
That was just the beginning.
One night, I woke up to drink water. As I passed by the window, I saw a strange light behind our hut. I looked closely and saw Obinna kneeling beside a small fire. He was holding something in his hand and talking to himself. I couldn’t hear everything, but I heard him say:
“Spirits of the dark... I have kept my promise. Just wait, she will be ready soon.”
My heart nearly stopped.
Who was he talking to? What promise?
I quickly returned to the bed and pretended to sleep. My mind was racing like a drum at a village festival. That whole night, I did not close my eyes again.
The next day, I tried to act normal. I cooked his food, greeted him kindly, and washed his clothes. But fear had already moved into my heart like a thief in the night.
The next strange thing happened three days later.
While sweeping the backyard, I noticed a patch of loose soil behind our hut. Something told me to dig it. I used a stick and carefully removed the sand. What I saw made my blood turn to ice.
Inside a small clay pot, wrapped in red cloth, I found:
A piece of my wrapper
My old comb
A dried lizard
And a red feather soaked in something like blood
I screamed and threw the pot away. My hands were shaking. My knees became weak. What kind of wickedness was this? What kind of evil charm used my belongings?
That night, I confronted Obinna.
“Obinna, what is going on? Why is my wrapper and comb buried in a pot behind our house?”
He looked at me for a long time—too long—and then smiled. But it wasn’t a smile of love. It was a cold, dry smile like someone who knew something I didn’t.
“Chinyere,” he said, “You ask too many questions. Some things are better left alone.”
I stepped back. My heart was pounding. I wanted to run, but I was too scared. I couldn’t believe this was the man I married.
For the next few days, Obinna changed completely. He hardly spoke. He would stay up at night walking around the house, talking to himself in a strange language I didn’t understand.
Then, the stranger came.
It was a stormy evening. Thunder was cracking the sky open. Obinna told me to stay inside while he went outside to meet someone.
Through the window, I saw the man.
He had one eye, a long scar across his neck, and wore a black cloak. He didn’t even look human. The man handed Obinna something small, and they both whispered. I could hear only one thing clearly:
“Tonight is the night. Make sure she eats it all.”
Eat what?
My body began to shake. I locked myself in the kitchen and prayed. Something terrible was coming.
That evening, Obinna acted sweet again—for the first time in weeks. He brought home my favorite food: pounded yam and bitterleaf soup. He even brought me palm wine and said, “My queen, eat. You deserve to rest tonight.”
But the moment I tasted the soup, I knew something was wrong.
It had a strange bitter taste, not like normal bitterleaf. I dropped the spoon and looked into his eyes. They were shining—too shiny, like someone hiding a deep secret.
He smiled. “Eat more, Chinyere. You need strength.”
I stood up and said I was full. He frowned but said nothing.
Later that night, I felt dizzy. My head was spinning. My legs were weak. I tried to call for help, but no sound came out. Everything went dark.
---
When I opened my eyes, I was no longer in my body.
I was floating above it.
Below me, I saw my lifeless body lying on the bed, and Obinna kneeling beside it with a small red knife in his hand.
He was not crying. He was smiling.
He kissed my forehead and whispered:
“Thank you, Chinyere. Your spirit has given me.
Episode 1
#walexstories
FOLLOW ME Walex's Stories BEFORE YOU MISS ANOTHER EPISODE
My name was Chinyere, and I came from a small, peaceful village called Umueze. Life in the village was not rich in money, but we were rich in laughter, songs, and stories. I was raised by my grandmother who taught me how to cook, farm, and pray. Everyone knew me as the girl who smiled even when the rain fell too hard on her cassava farm.
When I turned twenty-three, I married Obinna, the man who had stolen my heart with his words and good looks. He was tall, muscular, and charming. He could talk like a preacher and sing like a bird. My friends were jealous. They said, “Chinyere, you have found a husband from heaven.”
At first, I believed them.
Obinna treated me like gold. He helped me in the farm, bought me wrappers, and called me sweet names like my queen, my sunshine, the air I breathe. I felt like the happiest woman in the whole world.
But after a few months, everything began to change.
The man who once smiled at me every morning now looked at me with cold eyes. He no longer called me sweet names. He would come home late and sleep facing the wall. I would ask, “Obinna, are you okay?” and he would say, “I’m tired.”
That was just the beginning.
One night, I woke up to drink water. As I passed by the window, I saw a strange light behind our hut. I looked closely and saw Obinna kneeling beside a small fire. He was holding something in his hand and talking to himself. I couldn’t hear everything, but I heard him say:
“Spirits of the dark... I have kept my promise. Just wait, she will be ready soon.”
My heart nearly stopped.
Who was he talking to? What promise?
I quickly returned to the bed and pretended to sleep. My mind was racing like a drum at a village festival. That whole night, I did not close my eyes again.
The next day, I tried to act normal. I cooked his food, greeted him kindly, and washed his clothes. But fear had already moved into my heart like a thief in the night.
The next strange thing happened three days later.
While sweeping the backyard, I noticed a patch of loose soil behind our hut. Something told me to dig it. I used a stick and carefully removed the sand. What I saw made my blood turn to ice.
Inside a small clay pot, wrapped in red cloth, I found:
A piece of my wrapper
My old comb
A dried lizard
And a red feather soaked in something like blood
I screamed and threw the pot away. My hands were shaking. My knees became weak. What kind of wickedness was this? What kind of evil charm used my belongings?
That night, I confronted Obinna.
“Obinna, what is going on? Why is my wrapper and comb buried in a pot behind our house?”
He looked at me for a long time—too long—and then smiled. But it wasn’t a smile of love. It was a cold, dry smile like someone who knew something I didn’t.
“Chinyere,” he said, “You ask too many questions. Some things are better left alone.”
I stepped back. My heart was pounding. I wanted to run, but I was too scared. I couldn’t believe this was the man I married.
For the next few days, Obinna changed completely. He hardly spoke. He would stay up at night walking around the house, talking to himself in a strange language I didn’t understand.
Then, the stranger came.
It was a stormy evening. Thunder was cracking the sky open. Obinna told me to stay inside while he went outside to meet someone.
Through the window, I saw the man.
He had one eye, a long scar across his neck, and wore a black cloak. He didn’t even look human. The man handed Obinna something small, and they both whispered. I could hear only one thing clearly:
“Tonight is the night. Make sure she eats it all.”
Eat what?
My body began to shake. I locked myself in the kitchen and prayed. Something terrible was coming.
That evening, Obinna acted sweet again—for the first time in weeks. He brought home my favorite food: pounded yam and bitterleaf soup. He even brought me palm wine and said, “My queen, eat. You deserve to rest tonight.”
But the moment I tasted the soup, I knew something was wrong.
It had a strange bitter taste, not like normal bitterleaf. I dropped the spoon and looked into his eyes. They were shining—too shiny, like someone hiding a deep secret.
He smiled. “Eat more, Chinyere. You need strength.”
I stood up and said I was full. He frowned but said nothing.
Later that night, I felt dizzy. My head was spinning. My legs were weak. I tried to call for help, but no sound came out. Everything went dark.
---
When I opened my eyes, I was no longer in my body.
I was floating above it.
Below me, I saw my lifeless body lying on the bed, and Obinna kneeling beside it with a small red knife in his hand.
He was not crying. He was smiling.
He kissed my forehead and whispered:
“Thank you, Chinyere. Your spirit has given me.
MY HUSBAND KILLED ME TO REPLACE HIS LIFE BUT MY GHOST WILL HUNT HIM TO DEATH
Episode 1
#walexstories
FOLLOW ME Walex's Stories BEFORE YOU MISS ANOTHER EPISODE
My name was Chinyere, and I came from a small, peaceful village called Umueze. Life in the village was not rich in money, but we were rich in laughter, songs, and stories. I was raised by my grandmother who taught me how to cook, farm, and pray. Everyone knew me as the girl who smiled even when the rain fell too hard on her cassava farm.
When I turned twenty-three, I married Obinna, the man who had stolen my heart with his words and good looks. He was tall, muscular, and charming. He could talk like a preacher and sing like a bird. My friends were jealous. They said, “Chinyere, you have found a husband from heaven.”
At first, I believed them.
Obinna treated me like gold. He helped me in the farm, bought me wrappers, and called me sweet names like my queen, my sunshine, the air I breathe. I felt like the happiest woman in the whole world.
But after a few months, everything began to change.
The man who once smiled at me every morning now looked at me with cold eyes. He no longer called me sweet names. He would come home late and sleep facing the wall. I would ask, “Obinna, are you okay?” and he would say, “I’m tired.”
That was just the beginning.
One night, I woke up to drink water. As I passed by the window, I saw a strange light behind our hut. I looked closely and saw Obinna kneeling beside a small fire. He was holding something in his hand and talking to himself. I couldn’t hear everything, but I heard him say:
“Spirits of the dark... I have kept my promise. Just wait, she will be ready soon.”
My heart nearly stopped.
Who was he talking to? What promise?
I quickly returned to the bed and pretended to sleep. My mind was racing like a drum at a village festival. That whole night, I did not close my eyes again.
The next day, I tried to act normal. I cooked his food, greeted him kindly, and washed his clothes. But fear had already moved into my heart like a thief in the night.
The next strange thing happened three days later.
While sweeping the backyard, I noticed a patch of loose soil behind our hut. Something told me to dig it. I used a stick and carefully removed the sand. What I saw made my blood turn to ice.
Inside a small clay pot, wrapped in red cloth, I found:
A piece of my wrapper
My old comb
A dried lizard
And a red feather soaked in something like blood
I screamed and threw the pot away. My hands were shaking. My knees became weak. What kind of wickedness was this? What kind of evil charm used my belongings?
That night, I confronted Obinna.
“Obinna, what is going on? Why is my wrapper and comb buried in a pot behind our house?”
He looked at me for a long time—too long—and then smiled. But it wasn’t a smile of love. It was a cold, dry smile like someone who knew something I didn’t.
“Chinyere,” he said, “You ask too many questions. Some things are better left alone.”
I stepped back. My heart was pounding. I wanted to run, but I was too scared. I couldn’t believe this was the man I married.
For the next few days, Obinna changed completely. He hardly spoke. He would stay up at night walking around the house, talking to himself in a strange language I didn’t understand.
Then, the stranger came.
It was a stormy evening. Thunder was cracking the sky open. Obinna told me to stay inside while he went outside to meet someone.
Through the window, I saw the man.
He had one eye, a long scar across his neck, and wore a black cloak. He didn’t even look human. The man handed Obinna something small, and they both whispered. I could hear only one thing clearly:
“Tonight is the night. Make sure she eats it all.”
Eat what?
My body began to shake. I locked myself in the kitchen and prayed. Something terrible was coming.
That evening, Obinna acted sweet again—for the first time in weeks. He brought home my favorite food: pounded yam and bitterleaf soup. He even brought me palm wine and said, “My queen, eat. You deserve to rest tonight.”
But the moment I tasted the soup, I knew something was wrong.
It had a strange bitter taste, not like normal bitterleaf. I dropped the spoon and looked into his eyes. They were shining—too shiny, like someone hiding a deep secret.
He smiled. “Eat more, Chinyere. You need strength.”
I stood up and said I was full. He frowned but said nothing.
Later that night, I felt dizzy. My head was spinning. My legs were weak. I tried to call for help, but no sound came out. Everything went dark.
---
When I opened my eyes, I was no longer in my body.
I was floating above it.
Below me, I saw my lifeless body lying on the bed, and Obinna kneeling beside it with a small red knife in his hand.
He was not crying. He was smiling.
He kissed my forehead and whispered:
“Thank you, Chinyere. Your spirit has given me.
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