This story is published in two parts. This is the first part. Link to Part Two at the end of the story.
Hi Eve,
I like to think about the first day I met him. It feels so different from the sort of man he turned out to be.
I was walking back home from work and as always, I greeted the security men at the gate with my poor, broken Hausa, which always made them laugh. Then I turned into the estate and headed toward my house.
I was already close to my gate when I heard a voice behind me. I screamed and spun around; he’d caught me by surprise. He had stopped walking when I screamed and took a few steps back. That was the first thing I noticed about him: how he instinctively stepped back, giving me space, trying not to scare me. He made me feel secure.
He introduced himself, said he’d seen me outside the estate gate and decided to follow me in, he wanted my number. I was just about to say no when the automated gate opened, and I gave him my number, then rushed in with a quick apology.
He would later joke about that moment with his friends, saying he felt so stupid when I did that.
We didn’t become friends right away, but he was consistent. He checked in often. One day, he asked why I hadn’t saved his number yet. I told him I needed to know what we were before doing that. He said he wanted me to be his.
I told him I didn’t like dating, especially not someone who lived in the same estate. He argued that his intentions were pure. “We’re both adults,” he said. “I won’t do anything to ruin your reputation.”
I told my sister about him. “Dating someone in your environment is risky,” I said. “If things go bad, I’ll see him everywhere. And worst of all, I’m the girl. People will laugh at me and say I was played. But he’ll be the conqueror.” I’ve seen things like this happen all the time, women are always seen as victims in situations like this, always the ones who get left behind.
My sister laughed the worries off. “You’re always too serious. Just observe him. See if he’s real.”
So, I watched him. He came to my workplace often, took me out to lunch. Whenever he brought me back, he bought gifts for my colleagues too.
Soon, everyone was saying, “Ah, this your man is so fine, and so respectful.” I smiled. Those were the same things I had noticed, he respected people. He was calm, soft-spoken, never invited me over to his house. Always came to see me.
One time, he brought me homemade food. An older colleague of mine, who always played the father figure, said, “This guy likes you o. He’s cooking and bringing it here?”
Eventually, I gave in, we started dating.
He wanted me to meet his sister and family. I laughed it off. “It’s too soon.”
When I asked about his past relationships, he said it was all in the past. I didn’t like how he said it, and I told him. He said he didn’t want to rehash who hurt who. But he added that he always apologized when he was wrong. I said, “Thank God you’re self-aware.”
There were butterflies. We didn’t rush into things, everything took a soft build, just like I like them. We used to take evening strolls around the estate, gisting and laughing under the streetlights. Once, he said, “You’re giving me an American type of love,” and smiled. For once, I was speechless.
Later on when things changed, I’d ask myself if that American kind of love was part of the problem.
By the time I saw the first crack, I already held him in such high regard. This fine man with the smoothest skin, I always joked about switching bodies with him.
We were watching something on his phone one day when he said: “There’s this family friend that helps my sister out at her new house. She came here the other day, and when I was escorting her out, the security men called her my wife, but I told them off.”
I just nodded. I don’t know why I didn’t ask questions. Maybe I was tired of being told I was too dramatic or blunt or uptight. If this man, who worships his sister, never brags about his wealth, and respects me, says she’s just a family friend, then she is. I was cool with it, until I found out that she stayed over at his place. For days.
I was upset, rightfully so. What kind of man in a serious relationship would have a family friend stay over at his place for days without informing his partner? I was very heartbroken, and went crying to my older boss at work, the one who was like a father to me.
“Why did he reduce me to this mockery?” I said. “In the same estate? I feel so ashamed.”
My boss tried to calm me. “I don’t think he’s that foolish. This is the time to go to his family’s house and find out the truth. Don’t block him yet. If he’s lying, it will show. Maybe there’s another part of the story we don’t know yet.”
My sister said the same thing when we talked about it some more. Visit his home, find out more.
So I did. It was during their end-of-year party. He picked me up. As I walked toward the car, I saw a lady standing beside him. My heart stopped. He opened the back door for me and said, “Babe, please forgive me. This is, ” then turned to her and added, “Meet my girlfriend.”
She smiled at me. “How are you?”
She was older. Much older. I didn’t want to be rude, and argue about the passenger sit privileges with her, so I sat at the back. From the car ride, I didn’t feel okay anymore, I just wanted to leave.
When we got to the house, I was uncomfortable the entire time. I just stayed for a short time and stood to leave.
He followed me out and asked what was wrong.
I was upset that he didn’t see the problem and asked him, “What do you mean? You brought another woman to pick me up. Why would you embarrass me like that?”
He called her to the gate to explain things, according to him. She came and said they were just friends, and she only came with him because they met along the way, and she asked him for a lift to the house for the party.
She even cracked a joke: “You can see that I’m too old to deny a man if we had something. But if you have a brother who’s ready to marry, I’m available.”
I accepted his explanations and moved past it, told myself, “She already said nothing’s happening. Believe him.” I convinced myself that I was just overthinking things.
But the doubts had planted roots, I couldn’t let go of the lingering feeling that there was more to the eyes, more that I did not know about him and her.
I told my friends and most of them empathized with me, even though I couldn’t point out a particular reason why I felt something was wrong, it just did. Most of said the same thing, ‘Don’t have sex with him. Hold on for a while.’
I wasn’t feeling pressured about sex from him, we had discussed intimacy before, and he made it clear that he wasn’t in a rush, he respected me and my time, he was ready to wait.
After the party, he kept inviting me to his family’s home. “So you won’t say I’m playing you. There’s no way my family would allow two girls in the picture and not call me to order.”
His family was warm. I relaxed, for a while.
But the thing about cracks, they spread.
One day, as I was preparing to visit him, he texted: She wants to come over. What do I tell her?
I was taken aback for a while. Since the fiasco with her at the house, she never came up in our conversations again. I’d totally forgotten about her, until he brought her up. I found the question silly, so I replied, “Do what you think is best.”
Later that day, while I was at his house, he said she was on her way. “To where, please?” I asked.
He said, “Here.” His house. A family friend was on her way to his house for no reason, while he had his girlfriend over and he was okay with it.
That was when everything spilled. I told him about my ex, the one who disappeared to the village and lied he was there to take a chieftaincy title but ended up with a wife without telling me. The one who said, ‘We never discussed marriage,’ like I had imagined the whole thing.
I told him about how long it took me to get over what he did to me, how it messed my thoughts up and had me struggling with self-esteem.
It wasn’t just about my ex. I told him I wasn’t ready to go through that sort of pain anymore, that if he was going to play me for a fool, he’d better let me know so I could move on with my life.
I let my insecurities bare themselves and some of the questions I’d always wondered about quietly, made their way out of my lips. “Why do you people keep choosing other women over me?” I asked. “Am I ugly? Too thin? Not smart enough?”
He held my hands. “I would never hurt you.” She was just a friend, he promised. There was nothing going on between them, I was the woman he loved, and respected.
He promised me he had nothing to hide and if he did, he would not have told me about her coming, and he was trying to be open and honest with me.
I forced myself to calm down and took a breather. She came, sat down and said hi, all natural and friendly but I could not reciprocate the energy. I could tell there was something going on between them, it was in the energy, but I couldn’t prove it and it felt like I was losing my mind. I stared at her, trying to compare the two of us.
What exactly is it about her that made my partner prioritize her? Was it the bum? The skin? In my mind, I yelled at her, I asked her to leave. But I controlled myself, packed my things, left the house, and headed home.
When I got home, I was mentally exhausted. I spent time reading up on my old posts, reminding myself that it wasn’t my fault the men I romantically got involved with played me, that I wasn’t to blame for their cruelty, that love could be kind and sweet.
Afterwards, I called one of my oldest friends, the one person I hadn’t told any of what was going on. Maybe because I knew she wasn’t going to shy away from telling me the truth, maybe because at the time, I wasn’t ready to hear the truth. But I was ready now, so I called.
To be continued…
This is Part One of this story. Click this link for the second part!
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