My story

What name do I call mine, sheer stupidity or a victim of circumstance? Once beaten twice shy they say but I wonder the perfect adage for my state. I was a fresher at the university when I met Gbola as he came for his weekend MSc lectures when he gave me a lift from the school gate. For the next 6 months he remained on my case, asking that I be his girl. I finally gave it a chance & explained my “no sex” condition to him and the reason was made clear, I was a virgin & I wasn’t ready to lose it. The rule wasn’t a problem and he adapted well. All we did were cuddles as I managed to stop him whenever he pushed far. He works in Ibadan, being a stone throw from Ife; he visited on weekends.

8 months into the relationship, I was in my 2nd year already and had moved to town (off-campus) for ease of life and more privacy as things went fine till 2 months ago. I was surprised to see him pull over on a Wednesday evening and he claimed to be on leave. Glad to have him around, we cuddled intimately but this time, he insisted for “more”. I was scared having heard loads of stories about men, sex & pregnancy. “I’m for real”, he said. “I don’t lack sex and could get it from call girls if I wanted. I just want you”, he whispered and after so much persistence, pleas, promises, reassurance & struggles, I couldn’t fight it no more because my heart beats for him as well. He wouldn’t stop cuddling so, I let go and we made love passionately. We kissed & cuddled afterwards. Few minutes later, I stood up to pee and asked to use his phone lights as torch to see since there was no power. It wasn’t a problem because he knew I’d never check his phone, read his messages nor pick his calls. I don’t know why I chose to break the jinx and browse through his phone while at it in the loo. His inbox was clean and I clicked on sent items, only to discover the shock of a lifetime. Gbola was getting married!

The next day was registry, Friday to be his engagement and Saturday the white wedding ceremony. I almost fainted and with my jaw wide open, I rushed back to the room, shaking and went further to show him the message hoping he’d tell me it was a joke. He went quiet for seconds and went on his knees, tears rolling down my cheeks with shame written all over my face, I managed to wear my cloth, picked my bag and headed for my friend’s. The rest of the story I was told as I woke on a hospital bed the next day. I just wish someone would wake me up and tell me it all wasn’t real and that it was all a dream.

2 months since the incident and I just found out I’m with a child. The thought of Gbola in my womb is frustrating, opening my yet-to-heal wound. How do I love a child whose occurrence kept haunting? A child whose father I despise so dearly?

I don’t know what to do.



A couple of times we’ve asked ourselves what LOVE is! Is it the cuddles before sex or the passion of loving making? The showers of exotic gifts, the roses or flowers, the sincerity behind the smiles, the sound of our laughter, the giggles of sweet memories, the gracious glow in the eyes of a lover or the ache of a hurting heart? The burning tears down the cheek, the grieve of a broken soul, the act of a jealous lover, the possessiveness, the obsession, the emotions? Little do we know that all above listed is what we call love.

Love is like a cute bottle of red wine; good for the heart but taste like herbs. Like the contents of a bottle of Baileys; with a sweet creamy taste and its tipsy aim. Like the well brewed champagne; groomed for all occasions but found in rare occasions, like the ‘Brandy’, ‘Alize’, ‘Moet’ and ‘Hennessy’; Love is like the classy alcohol. Something you could rely on when you need, could get you excited or sober, increase your self-confidence or reduce your self-esteem, comes with emotional instability, loss of critical judgement; making one subjective and mental confusion. Like alcohol, Love is a drug that has a widespread effect on the body with the effects varying from one person to another, very addictive and when abused without prescription, poses a long lasting threat and effect on the mind, body & soul.

Love is an art of compassion, an emotion that comes with a strong affection. It encompasses all sorts of feelings ranging from friendship to devotion to intimacy. It is intense, deep, massive and simple yet appears ambiguous. Highly intoxicating more in women than men, in adolescents than adults, in old than young.

Love is life, and just like the low response to stimulus that comes with being tipsy or drunk, when in love, nothing else matters, for Love is the joy we find in each breath.