Abby:
Back to Lagos.
Oh my gosh, I was elated as I jumped into the car.
“Where are your bags?” Uncle asked, laughing.
“Oh, sorry, Uncle! I’ll be right back—don’t go anywhere!” I shouted, dashing back into the house.
When I came out again, my dad and Uncle were still laughing, but my mum…
She wasn’t.
Her face was solemn, and before I could get into the car, she pulled me aside.
“Abby, are we so bad that you can’t wait to leave us?” she asked, her voice tight with emotion. “I love you and miss you. Why don’t you tell your dad and uncle that you want to stay with me?”
Oh, dear Lord.
The anguish in her eyes hit me hard. My heart was screaming, Okay, Mum, I’ll stay! But my head? My head was reminding me of the life waiting for me in Lagos—the soft bed, the nice food, the fancy school, the beautiful clothes… everything.
Love for Mum or not, who in their right mind would choose to stay in the village?
So I looked straight at her and said, “Mum, come on, don’t cry. Your prayers have been answered.”
She frowned. “What prayers?”
“Every night, when we pray, you ask God to make my life better than yours. You always say I should never suffer like you, never be poor like you. Now, God has answered your prayers by letting me leave this village and go to Lagos. So why are you trying to undo God’s blessing?”
I didn’t realise the weight of my words until I saw the tears spill down her cheeks. She turned and ran back into the house, leaving me standing there.
It wasn’t until years later—actually, not so long ago—when I sat down to write this diary that I finally understood what she must have felt that day.
The shame of my childish words still lingers, especially because I never got the chance to apologise.
She passed away before I could.
But we’ll get to that later.
On that day, as Uncle drove me out of the village, I thought he would finally tell me why he had come back for me.
Instead, all he said was, “Abby, your aunty made a mistake bringing you back. Don’t worry—she will apologise when you get home.”
It sounded unbelievable, but my mind was already elsewhere.
As we drove past the dusty roads, I made a silent vow:
I would do everything in my power never to return.
I would stay in Lagos forever.
Did I get my wish?
Well… let’s wait and see.
Hmmm…
Chris
Mr Sam’s words saved me from making the biggest mistake of my life.
“Don’t believe everything you think.”
That phrase became my mantra.
When self-doubt crept in, I repeated it.
When I feared I would never be better than my father, I held onto it.
When Paul and his gang tried to break me, those words became my shield.
And then… came Bisi.
By my third year, Paul was gone.
He had been transferred to another university because his gang activities got all his friends rusticated. I heard his father quickly arranged for his transfer to Lagos University before the Senate could make an official announcement.
Good riddance to bad rubbish.
I was in the library one afternoon when I heard a soft, melodic voice.
“Hello, could you help me, please?”
I looked up—and there she was.
The most beautiful girl I had ever seen.
She had big brown eyes, short boyish hair, and a smile that could melt ice.
I stuttered as I asked how I could help.
That day marked the beginning of our friendship.
I say friendship, but a few weeks later, I was walking to the cafeteria when I saw her coming out with her friends.
They stopped, and—right in front of everyone—she said, “Guys, meet my boyfriend I’ve been telling you about.”
Wait. What?!
Blushing and completely perplexed, I mumbled, “Hi, guys.”
That was the first time I heard that I was her boyfriend.
She simply walked away, giggling with her friends.
That evening, she came to my room and asked, “Don’t you want to be my boyfriend?”
I didn’t know what to say.
But in hindsight, I should have said, No way! and taken to my heels.
Oh, dear Lord, what a mess I got myself into…
Hmmm…
