ENTRY 16
ABBY:
As Aunty ended the call, not even giving me a chance to ask any questions, my boyfriend turned to me with a worried look on his face.
“Abby, honey… what was that about?”
I looked into his inquisitive eyes and tried to bluff. “Nothing,” I said, waving it off casually.
But he wasn’t buying it.
“What do you mean ‘nothing’? She just called you a liar and said you ruined her life. Abby, tell me what she meant.”
His voice was getting louder—agitated—and I knew if I didn’t give him something, he wouldn’t stop. So, I gave him a watered-down version. But even that didn’t convince him.
“Abby,” he said sharply, “we’ve been together for two years, and one thing I know is when you’re not telling me the truth. So, tell me now, or we end this relationship—right now.”
Needless to say, I didn’t tell him the truth. And just like that, it ended.
He stood up, walked out of the departure lounge where we’d been waiting to board, and left me sitting there—alone. I ended up going on that birthday trip to Egypt by myself.
When I returned, he had blocked my number, unfollowed me, and deleted all our pictures from his social media. Just like that. Gone.
The lies I told eleven years ago had come back to ruin my present.
Olumide wasn’t just any man. He was a doctor. He’d just secured a job in Dubai and was planning to relocate—with me.
Later, I found out from his sister that he was going to propose to me in Egypt. He had bought a ring and everything.
Choices. Every choice we make comes with consequences. And I was about to learn that in ways I couldn’t imagine.
Well, let me tell you how it all unfolded…
Hmmm…
CHRIS:
ED took me to meet Felix—the owner of Trust God Transports. He was young, early thirties, and surprisingly humble for someone so successful.
He welcomed us warmly and offered snacks. I declined—I was there for destiny, not biscuits. ED accepted though, as usual.
Felix leaned forward and said, “Guys, this prophet—he’s the real deal. I heard about him from my uncle. The prophet told him who he’d marry, how many children he’d have, even what those children would do when they grew up. And everything happened just like he said.”
He paused, then added, “The prophet’s blind, but it’s like he sees with an inner eye.”
I raised an eyebrow but listened on.
“When I went to see him,” Felix continued, “he held my hand for a few minutes, looked up and said, ‘Son, your destiny is on the road. You will thrive if you stay on that path. Don’t deviate. Keep moving back and forth—and you’ll be wealthy.’”
“That’s all he said?” I asked.
Felix nodded. “Yeah. At the time, I was a frustrated bus driver earning peanuts. I was so close to quitting. I’d even started looking into online business—which, let’s be honest, mostly meant fraud these days.”
He chuckled, then continued.
“But the way he said ‘the road’, I knew he meant transport. So I went to a cooperative and used my father’s land as collateral to get a small loan. I bought an old, rundown van, fixed it up gradually, and within a year, I started my own road transport business—moving between nearby towns.”
He leaned back proudly.
“Then I bought another van… and another. I started running longer routes. Now I have ten luxury buses and twenty-five smaller ones that go between Lagos and Ibadan every day.”
He smiled. “The road really was my destiny.”
Hmmm…
