The girl I never had Pt 23

The headmaster sat in his big chair with five teachers squeezed into the too-small office. The air felt like a cooking pot; everyone was sweating, JK included. He was soaked through and crying like I’d never seen before. Truthfully, seeing that ugly face tear up made me wince — pitiful, but satisfying after what he’d done to me.

There were no chairs for everyone, so I stood with the senior boys’ prefect. I didn’t enjoy being there. The memory of my last trip to that room rolled across my mind like an old film.

“Are you the senior on duty?” the headmaster asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“You’re in JK’s class. Tell me what you know about the theft.”

I swallowed. “Erm, sir—I didn’t see him take it. I was outside with the juniors and only came back when class started. It was during the lesson that the girl said her purse was missing, and later the purse was found in JK’s bag.”

“Do you think he stole it?” the headmaster pressed.

“Sir—well, I don’t know. People steal when times are hard. He could’ve.” I kept my answer vague. He stared for a beat, then dismissed me.

I stayed just outside the door to listen. From inside I heard the headmaster lash out at JK. I stood there, enjoying the sound a little too much, until a teacher’s voice called my name and I ran back to class.

By the time I got there, everyone crowded around me, hungry for details. I told the story, stretching the part about the caning a bit for effect. My mates vowed to make JK pay. The headmaster then walked into our classroom, flanked by the teacher from earlier and JK himself.

“Stay calm,” he told us. “We must finish our investigation.” He warned us not to jeer or call names—any conclusion would wait until the facts were in. I hated it. Why give JK the benefit of the doubt? If it were anyone else—would he be so patient?

The headmaster told JK to sit. He left the class, and tension broke loose. EK shouted, “How can we sit with a thief?” Support rose around him. JK couldn’t stand the insults; he rose and left, weeping.

“Now!” I hissed at my friends. “Teach him a lesson.” They ran out. I was about to follow when someone grabbed my shirt.

“Leave go,” I snapped.

“If you go out, I’ll let the cat out of the bag,” a girl hissed into my ear.

Her words hit me like ice. Had she seen the purse move? Was she the one who planted it? I sat down hard, fear cold in my gut.

The girl I never had Pt 22

Silence fell like a curtain. Nobody could believe JK had a girl’s purse in his bag. The teacher stared at him, stunned. JK screamed and protested at the top of his lungs, denying it all—but when I remembered the lies he spread about me (and the hospital bed), pity evaporated. He’d pushed me too far. Let him taste the fire I’d been saving.

The teacher grabbed JK’s shorts and marched him off to the headmaster’s office. I watched my partners’ faces. Relief flooded them. I shouldn’t have felt relief. I was still shaking from the morning’s inspection—still trying to work out who had moved the purse from under my desk into JK’s bag. I wanted to ask, but the classroom wasn’t the place, so I kept quiet until the break bell.

At break, I cornered the boys. “Which one of you put the purse in JK’s bag?” I asked.

Frank looked at me straight. “How did you do it?” he asked, voice small with suspicion.

“I didn’t,” I said. MA and EK echoed him emphatically: they hadn’t done it either. I wanted to believe them. If none of us had, then who had planted it?

Before we could untangle that knot, the bell rang and we went back in. JK still hadn’t come back from the headmaster. Word of the theft had spread like oil on water — by the time class resumed, the whole school was buzzing. Most teachers trooped to the headmaster’s office, and our classroom turned into a tribunal with JK as the main topic.

People chose sides fast. Some defended him; others accused. One girl swore she’d seen JK take the purse. The way rumours bloom in a small town is beautiful and dangerous all at once.

Then the senior boys’ prefect pushed into the room. Everyone fell silent. He pointed at me. “KD, come with me,” he said.

Not again, I thought. What now? Had someone named me as an accomplice? Or had whoever moved the purse into JK’s bag been seen?

We walked to the headmaster’s office and knocked. When we went in, JK was on his knees, hands up, eyes raw from crying. The sight hit all the air out of me. This was no longer a trick played in whispers. It had become a public unmasking.

THE GIRL I NEVERHAD, PART 21

When the girl announced her purse — money and all — missing, the whole class erupted. Voices rose, fingers pointed, and everyone suddenly remembered nothing. My friends joined the chorus of shock and denial. I stayed silent, drenched in sweat even though the classroom felt cool.

The teacher stood at the front and studied our faces like he was trying to read a map. Finally, he spoke. “If anyone took the purse, or saw someone take it, speak now. Confess and you’ll face no punishment. If I find out later you lied, the punishment will be severe.”

His words sent ice down my spine. I was trembling. Frank noticed me and tried to calm me with a look. He had no idea. If he’d stood in my shoes for even three seconds, he’d have crumpled. The purse lay hidden under my desk; my hand would not go near it. I’d never felt so trapped.

The search began. Pockets, bags, shoes—everywhere. My mind raced through desperate, stupid plans: slip the purse into my pocket, beg to be excused, drop it outside. No teacher would grant that. Throw it to another desk? I wasn’t Superman. The teacher was getting closer.

My legs felt unmanned. I almost wet myself. The teacher searched Frank thoroughly—nothing. Then he pointed at me. “Stand up.”

I rose, hands up like a criminal. He searched me, then my bag. Nothing. I breathed—briefly. “Not so fast,” he said. “Under your desk, too.”

My heart lurched. This was it. The trap was closing. I had built the trap; now I was about to be eaten by it. I decided to do the only brave thing left: confess.

“Erm, please sir—” I started.

“Stop wasting my time!” he barked.

He checked under my desk. Nothing. I stared at the empty floor, numb. The teacher told me to sit. JK would be the last to be searched.

He took JK’s bag, rifled through it—and then froze. He held up the purse. The class went silent as if someone had pressed pause on the world. How did the purse end up in JK’s bag?

I felt the air leave my lungs.

The girl I never had Pt 20

“You can’t use bare feet to search for thorns you saw in daylight.” I knew going back to Lucy’s house that evening would be risky, so I stayed away. Life’s cheap thrills weren’t worth a coffin. I went to church and prayed—about our plan, about Lucy, and even about that mischievous JK.

Afterwards I swung by Frank’s place to remind him we still had to execute the revenge. The sermon about forgiveness did not change my mind. I was still set on action. Loving Lucy didn’t make me less dangerous; if anything, it made me more determined. As the elders say, if you lie on the floor and beg people to walk over you, some will still say you’re not lying flat enough.

At 7:00 p.m. under the mango tree we—THE MEGA BRAINS—held our meeting. I sat in the leader’s chair while the others stood. We agreed to strike on Monday. If everything went well, JK would at least earn a week’s suspension. We broke, I walked them partway home, and then came back to polish the plan in my head.

Monday came. I was at the gate before it opened—a senior on duty, giving me the perfect view of the playground. EK and MA arrived; Frank showed up as our lookout. Everything had to be surgical.

When class started our target walked in. MA struck first: he made small talk and led her out of the room. EK moved in, grabbed her bag, rifled through it and pulled out her purse. He handed it to me like we were passing a baton. Frank kept watch at the gate.

Half the job was done. The hard part was still ahead: slipping that purse into JK’s bag before the girl discovered it.

IK (it’s JK, not IK—just keeping naming consistent) showed up late—unusual for him—and my chest started to tighten. The teacher began the lesson, and I sat with the purse hidden under my desk. Every minute felt like a drumbeat. What if she noticed? What if she screamed? What if a search started and my palms gave me away?

I kept stealing glances at her. Her face suddenly changed; the colour dropped out of it like someone had punched the air from her lungs. She started to cry. My mouth went dry. The teacher paused and asked what was wrong.

“She said her money’s been stolen,” the girl managed through tears.

The classroom froze.

THE GIRL I NEVER HAD PART 25

I was shocked when she suggested it. It felt like being asked to lance a boil between a woman’s thighs without her husband around — dangerous, painful, and downright wrong. A kiss? Behind a toilet? How could I? I told her flatly I wouldn’t do it.

She pouted, spun around, and started walking away. I panicked. With everything she knew about me, letting her slip off like that would be suicide. I grabbed her hand and pulled her back. For a second, my lips wanted to betray me, but I stopped. Sense kicked in. What nonsense was this? Kissing behind a toilet? Was I born for disgrace?

I cleared my throat and told her instead, “Let’s meet in the evening. We can talk… and maybe kiss.”

“Meet you where? I don’t have time, please. What will I tell my parents? That I need permission to go and kiss my classmate?” she shot back.

Her sarcasm nearly killed me with laughter, but I swallowed it and gave her a place and time. She promised she’d show up. We parted ways, though I knew deep down she was dragging me into another trap.

Back in class, my friends had left. I slung my bag over my shoulder and headed home, drowning in questions.

“All because of a girl — Lucy. Is she even worth this headache? Is this love, or lust, or just infatuation wearing church shoes? How do I escape this dirty game without ruining my reputation? Or is it that I don’t even understand love at all?”

The questions circled like mosquitoes around my ears, but no answers came.

By the time I got home, I was drained. I showered, ate, and collapsed on my bed. Sleep came quickly, but guilt came quicker. I remembered the promise I’d made to Lucy’s mum — to find out the guy Lucy was dating. I had even promised to visit her on Sunday. But Sunday came, and I didn’t. I sighed. Maybe instead of sneaking to meet my new “CID partner,” I should go make things right with Lucy’s mum. That thought rocked me to sleep.

When I opened my eyes again, it was 9:35 p.m. My heart sank. I had planned to meet her at 8:00. I was one hour and thirty-five minutes late. Could she still be waiting? I needed to find out.

I slipped into fresh clothes and tiptoed to the living room, but the door was locked. Mum had the keys. Worse, she was in her room. If she wasn’t asleep, my mission was dead on arrival. I searched everywhere like a burglar in my own house, but the keys had vanished. Defeated, I dragged myself back to bed.

The next morning, I overslept again but rushed to school. As a senior on duty, I needed to be there early to supervise the juniors. The first face I saw at the gate nearly froze me: my CID partner. She had been waiting.

The moment her eyes caught mine, her face turned into thunder. Trouble had come. I frowned too, out of defence, and brushed past her.

“Eh KD, didn’t you see me?” she snapped.

“Do I have business with you?” I shot back, pretending I was late for a UN summit.

She tilted her head, smirk sharp as a knife. “Maybe not with me. But you have business with a woman. She’s been here thirty minutes… waiting for you.”

A woman? My heart thudded. Which woman?

THE GIRL I NEVER HAD, PART 19

I was guided by a quote that evening: “Never go to bed angry. Stay awake and plot your revenge!” And that’s exactly what I planned to do. JK needed to know where power lay. I was furious, but I forced myself to stay calm. I didn’t want a repeat of what happened the last time I let anger lead me into trouble.

By then, my mum had returned from the funeral. She wanted to know how my day went. I was so tempted to confess everything—to pour out the mess I had dropped myself into. But I stopped. She already had her share of problems. Why add mine to her burden? So when she asked, I said, “It was fine.” She looked at me for a long time, clearly not convinced, but I stuck to my lie.

Later in my room, I picked up the envelope that had fallen from JK’s pocket. Curiosity was boiling in me. I tried to open it, but the guilt hit me—what if it was private? It felt wrong. I tossed it beside my pillow and tried to sleep.

At exactly 3:00 a.m., I woke up. My sleep had vanished, stolen by invisible hands. The envelope was still lying there, staring at me like it was daring me to open it. Before I could change my mind, I tore it open.

Inside was a neatly folded white sheet of paper. A sweet perfume oozed out as I unfolded it. A love letter.

But for whom?

I placed it on the bed, stepped out to urinate, then returned and finally sat down to read it. I know you’re dying to see the whole thing, but I’ll spare you the mushy parts. Let me just share the line that burned me the most:

“I knew it wasn’t going to be easy for you, looking at how stubborn KD is. Please, my love, give me some time to deal with KD, after which we can continue enjoying our love. Hey, please stop getting so emotionally attached to my sister. She is not the target, but KD. I have my eyes on you. If you make any wrong move, I will spill the beans. Take care, my sweetheart, and I hope to see you at our usual place. Love you. Bye.”

My head spun. Trouble was looming, and I was right in the middle of it. I had been caged in a dirty conspiracy, and their target was me. But why? What “beans” was she threatening to spill if JK slipped? What was really going on?

At 6:00 a.m., I bathed, ironed my shirt, and polished my shoes. My mum was shocked to see me so ready for church that early. I explained I’d pass by Frank’s place first before heading to church. She gave me money, and I set off.

I got to Frank’s house, but he had been sent on an errand by his mum. With nothing else to do, I continued to church. On the way, I met Lucy’s mum in her posh car. She said she had just returned from Accra and invited me over to her house that evening.

I accepted. Maybe this was my chance to show her the letter. But a chilling thought crossed my mind: what if I told her the truth and she put me under house arrest too?

THE GIRL I NEVER HAD, PART 24

“Hey — did you put the purse in JK’s bag?” I whispered.

“Meet me after school behind the toilet. We’ll talk,” she whispered back.

Behind the toilet? Of all the places in the school, she couldn’t think of anywhere better? Fine. If she wanted drama, she’d get drama. Her face told me she was up to something; I couldn’t shake the feeling she was playing games.

My friends had been loitering outside. I didn’t know what they were doing — were they beating JK, or doing something else? I tried to slip out to check, but my “CID” mate kept blocking me, insisting I stay put.

While I argued, the boys returned, looking defeated. They explained a teacher had caught them outside and made them kneel as punishment. At once I was glad the CID girl had stopped me — and a little annoyed too.

During second break I called a quick MEGA BRAINS huddle and told them about the girl’s rendezvous behind the toilet. It sounded awkward, but they told me to go and hear her out.

When I left class later I saw JK walking toward the headmaster’s office with his mother. He still looked broken. I sat back down and fretted about Lucy, JK, and, most of all, the CID girl. Who had told on us? Why? Was she playing both sides?

The school bell finally rang and we assembled on the field. The headmaster stepped forward, JK trailing behind him, and spoke briefly. “This morning a student reported her purse missing. A search found it in JK’s bag. He denies it, but since the purse was there, we assume he took it. As it is his first offence, he will be suspended for one week.”

Not sacked. Just suspended. I wanted more. Many students waited to boo, but I had other business. I told the boys to hold back and left for our meeting spot.

The girl was already there, pacing behind the toilet like she owned the place. She hissed at me for being late. I apologised, and then asked the obvious question: why here?

“Because you’re in deep shit,” she said flatly.

Before I could reply, she surprised me. “Now, before we start—kiss me.”

THE GIRL I NEVER HAD, PART 18

Even before she could speak, my heart was pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears. I told myself to stay calm, but I knew the fear was written all over my face. She must have noticed.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“I’m fine,” I lied, forcing a weak smile.

She began to talk, and I sat quietly, listening with rapt attention.

“KD, I know you’re a good boy, that’s why I’m telling you this. But what I’m about to say must stay between us. Have you seen Lucy?” she asked.

“No, ma,” I replied.

“Something happened to her yesterday that—” She stopped. Her phone rang. She excused herself and stepped outside to take the call.

By the time she left the room, my stomach had tied itself into a thousand knots. How could she throw me into such suspense? I was sweating. Did she know about Lucy and me? Was she the one who sent those guys to beat me up? Was this whole thing a trap? The questions kept hammering in my mind.

She came back in.

“Sorry once again,” she said briskly. “I have to rush to Accra, so let me make this quick. I’ve heard Lucy is dating a boy in your class. I want you to find out who he is. I heard she was with him last night in the dark. I sent my boys to bring them both, but the boy ran away when he saw them. I was furious they couldn’t get him, so I’ve put my boys and Lucy under house arrest. Until I find that boy, no one leaves. I trust you, KD. Do this job for me and I’ll reward you handsomely.”

My hands went cold. I looked at her with wide, frightened eyes. It felt like I was sitting with the devil herself. I asked politely to leave.

Before I left, I thanked her and promised to do my best to “find” the boy. She offered me money, but I refused. When I finally stepped out of that house, I let out a deep sigh of relief. I had been to hell and returned without getting burnt.

But even though I’d left the house, the trouble wasn’t over. Lucy’s mum was hunting for the boy dating her daughter—and she didn’t know that the “wanted” boy had just been sitting under her roof.

By the time I reached home, I was exhausted. I wanted to lie down and rest, but barely had I entered my room when someone knocked at the door.

I opened it. And there he was. The one person who never seemed to leave my neck: JK. Of all people, I wasn’t expecting him.

“What are you doing here?” I asked sharply.

“Won’t you let me in?” he said, tilting his head.

“No. Whatever it is you came to say, say it here. And be quick—I have something important to do inside,” I replied.

“Oh really? I knew you were a rascal, but I didn’t know you were also rude to visitors in your house,” he said, smirking.

I could tolerate a lot of things, but not being insulted in my own house. I shoved him back toward the gate. As I was pushing him away, an envelope slipped from his pocket without him noticing.

I picked it up after he’d left, but my anger was too hot for curiosity. I clenched the envelope in my hand, staring at it, not yet ready to open it.

THE GIRL I NEVER HAD, PART 17

"When you are eating with the devil, you must use a long spoon." How could I leave my meat in the care of a hungry cat? How could I send EK to Lucy’s house while we were all competing for her heart? Lucy had agreed to be mine, but after what happened last night, who knew if she would still stand by that decision?

EK and I finished breakfast, chatted a bit about everything except our “operation revenge” on JK. Honestly, I was beginning to lose interest in that whole plan. My mind was already hijacked by Lucy.

After EK left, her thoughts crept in again. I felt alone. Disturbed. Confused. Every time life gave me a little sweetness, something bitter came along to spoil the taste. Lucy had accepted my proposal, but something didn’t feel right. I sensed danger ahead. How could something so right feel so wrong?

I decided to go to Lucy’s house.

Locking the doors behind me, I set off. My heart started pounding the closer I got. That wild dog was still fresh in my memory. Facing it again wasn’t exactly on my bucket list. When I reached their gate, I muttered a quick prayer. No “Beware of Dog” sign in sight. Careless people. How could they just leave strangers to find out the hard way?

I banged the giant iron gate. My palms were sweating.

“Who’s that?” a man’s voice barked from inside.

My heart froze. That voice… it sounded like the same man who beat me senseless the night before.

Should I answer? Should I run? Should I melt into the ground and disappear?

"The surface of the water is beautiful, but it is not good to sleep on." I decided to retreat. Better to go home alive than end up in another free boxing match. I had barely taken three steps away when the gate creaked open.

I turned—Lucy’s mum stood there.

“Ah, KD, you’re here. Come in.”

What could I do? Refuse? I followed her inside, eyes darting left and right for signs of the wild dog… or that man.

She led me into a big hall and handed me an ice-cold drink. I sipped nervously as she excused herself, leaving me alone. The plasma TV was on, showing one of my favourite movies. For a brief moment, I almost forgot my fear. At least if I died here, I’d die entertained.

When she returned, she apologised for keeping me waiting. I told her it was fine—after all, Tom and Jerry were keeping me company. Then her tone changed.

She leaned in slightly.

“KD, there’s something I need to discuss with you… But first, let me make sure no one else is in the house.”

My stomach tightened. What could this be about? Was it Lucy’s whereabouts? Was it last night’s attack? Or something even darker?

THE GIRL I NEVER HAD, PART 16

I thought I’d wake up in a hospital bed. Instead, I woke up on the same cold ground where I’d been beaten. My head was pounding. My body ached. My fake Casio read 9:01 p.m. By now, I knew my mum was combing the area for me. The whole neighbourhood was silent except for a few people roaming about.

I got up and started walking home, forcing myself to look normal. My body screamed in pain, but I didn’t want anyone to see me limping.

When I reached our house, the living room light was still on. Mum was wide awake, cane on the table like a trophy waiting for me. My heart started racing again. Another beating tonight would finish me. I peeped through the window — she was lying on the sofa, dozing. This was my chance.

I opened the door quietly and entered, Nicodemus-style. I slipped into my room, changed into pyjamas, then came back to find her snoring softly. I locked the door, hid the cane, woke her and told her to go to bed. No punishment. For the first time that night, I smiled.

---

Saturday. I woke up late, my body still heavy from the night before. I expected Mum to ask questions, but she didn’t. She was already dressed for a funeral and left some money behind. Now the house was mine.

I took a bath, made myself a breakfast fit for a king. Halfway through, the memories hit. The previous night started replaying in my head like a bad movie — the kiss, the blows, Lucy being taken away. My spoon froze in mid-air. Where was she? Was she safe?

A knock at the door snapped me back. Could it be Lucy? That poor girl. My heart raced. The knock came again. I opened the door — it was EK.

I ushered him in and offered him some food. He didn’t hesitate. The way he dug in told me he hadn’t eaten all day.

We chatted as we ate, but my mind was elsewhere. I wanted to tell him what happened last night. I wanted him to check on Lucy for me. But EK liked Lucy too. If I sent him there, would he go to help her… or to take his chance with her?

I was stuck between the devil and the deep blue sea. The girl I loved had been taken by two unknown men. I didn’t even know if they were kidnappers. The only person who could help me find out was also my rival. What should I do?

THE GIRL I NEVER HAD, PART 15

“It is only those who are not hungry who complain that the shell of the coconut is hard.” And I was hungry — not for food, but for Lucy’s kiss. I wanted it more than anything. So when someone appeared, I didn’t care. He passed by. Another came out of nowhere and also passed. My patience was thinning. Lucy was practically begging for the kiss, but the traffic of humans was making it a herculean task.

Then she started talking. Her voice was soft, still wrapped in love.

“I never knew this day would come,” she said. “I never thought I’d fall in love so soon. I only dreamed about love — how people fall in and out of it. Until you… until you made it real. I fell in love with you the first day your lips said ‘hi’ and I replied ‘hello.’ But I didn’t want you to see it. I covered it with hatred, thinking it would drive you away. Every time I pushed you off or spoke harshly, I cried alone in my room. I cried because I couldn’t show you my love. I cried because I was too afraid. I cried because I couldn’t give you what you deserved.”

Her words hit me hard. I was lucky — lucky I never gave up on Lucy. Lucky my stubborn persistence had finally broken down her walls.

No one was around now. Just us. I stepped closer. She stood still, gazing at me. I held her shoulders, pulled her in, and kissed her forehead. She closed her eyes. She couldn’t even look at me. Then my lips found hers. A deep, lingering kiss. She melted in my arms. Nothing in this world tasted better than her soft lips.

When I released her, I could feel she wanted more. She’d been starving for this moment as much as I had. And I was ready to obey her hungry lips. I reached for her shoulders again—

—and felt a sharp blow slam into my back.

I spun around, confused. Before I could see the face, a heavy punch crashed into my cheek. My vision exploded. I hit the ground. The world blurred.

Footsteps. A voice. Not JK’s voice.

“Stay away from Lucy,” the man growled. Then, harsher: “Take her away.”

I couldn’t see their faces. My vision was gone, replaced with stars and darkness. I heard Lucy being led away, silent. No scream. No protest. Nothing. Just silence.

A stick slammed into my ribs. Another across my back. My cry for help went unanswered — people nearby heard me but chose to mind their own business. My attacker kept beating me until my body went limp. Then, as the footsteps faded, I slipped into unconsciousness.

THE GIRL I NEVER HAD, PART 14

 “Don’t wait for the perfect moment. Take the moment and make it perfect.” There could be no better time or place to confess my undying love for Lucy than now.

“Lucy, wait,” I said, stopping her mid-stride. “I have something special to tell you.”

Girls like special things. So was Lucy. Daylight would have made this awkward; evening chatter would have ruined the mood. But the darkness? It was my ally. You could still see if you strained your eyes, but everything else stayed hidden.

She stopped. I moved closer. I almost went down on one knee, but that felt too formal. Instead, I held her left arm gently and began:

“You know what, Lucy? The first day you walked into our classroom, I froze. My mind just… stopped. I couldn’t believe a beautiful girl like you existed in our part of the world. I thought I was dreaming. Your skin—so smooth. Your eyes—so charming. Your shape—so perfect. My heart beats faster every time I see you. I know we’re meant for each other.”

She started to sob softly. My words were working. I pressed on.

“Do you remember that morning when you said ‘good morning’ and I replied ‘good afternoon’? It wasn’t because I didn’t know the time. I was ahead of time—looking for the key to your heart. You’re more precious than gold, diamonds, or silver. Your love has pinned me down. It’s imprisoned me. And I don’t even want to be free. I’m sick with your love, but I don’t want to be healed.”

Now she was crying openly. Her tears soaked my shirt. I didn’t care if anyone walked by. All I cared about was pouring my heart out.

“Why are you telling me this now?” she asked.

“Because your love is an unquenchable fire burning inside me,” I said. “I need your time, your attention, your love to put it out. Be my darling, my best friend. Be mine. Share my joys and my sadness. Will you be my girl?”

“Yes… Yes… Yes, I will, KD,” Lucy whispered.

I was stunned. I’d expected hesitation, a slap, maybe a polite rejection. Not this. She’d agreed to be nobody’s darling but mine. I was thrilled, thankful… and completely lost for words.

“Can I kiss you?” I asked.

“Quickly,” she said. “Before someone appears and spoils the fun.”

Just as I leaned in for my first-ever kiss… someone appeared.

THE GIRL I NEVER HAD, PART 13

“Indecision is like a stepchild: if he does not wash his hands, he’s called dirty; if he does, he’s wasting water.”

How could I love without courage? If I really wanted Lucy, I had to risk it. So I told her. I spilt everything I saw between JK and that girl. Every little detail.

But Lucy didn’t even flinch. She didn’t look shocked. She didn’t even look worried. That puzzled me. I was ready for tears, denial, maybe even an angry slap, but she sighed instead.

Then she confessed to the game.

“The girl you saw with JK is my elder sister. She’s his girlfriend. My mum knows they’re dating. And as long as my sister is dating, she’s expected to protect me from guys who might… harass me. Because we don’t attend the same school, she’s made JK my bodyguard. If he fails in his duty and lets me date anyone, she’ll dump him. So that’s why he’s always around me. He’s not protecting himself. He’s protecting his relationship.”

She even laughed — “from scavengers like you,” she teased.

I was speechless. So JK wasn’t my rival? All this time, I’d been sharpening knives for the wrong goat. My whole revenge plan suddenly felt like a bad comedy skit.

But I had more questions. I asked why she treated me like trash — pushing me out of her room, acting cold whenever I got close. Lucy explained it was to protect her sister’s relationship. She didn’t want her sister and JK breaking up because of her.

That didn’t stop me from wondering, though — what would make a fine girl like her sister fall for an ugly clown like JK? Lucy only smiled and said I should ask her sister myself.

Then came the moment of truth. The crossroads. I had to know where I stood with her. Did Lucy love me? Did she want us to be more than classmates and half-hidden smiles? I was determined. Even if she didn’t say yes, I’d push harder. I couldn’t let invisible forces — or JK’s ugly forehead — keep me from her.

She was late for choir practice, but I wasn’t letting her go until I tried. She agreed I could escort her — on one condition: no one must see us together.

Like seriously? I had no choice. She walked ahead, and I followed. On empty streets, we walked side by side and whispered. When people appeared, we scattered apart like strangers caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.

We reached a quiet stretch. No one around. Just us, the dim sky, and my pounding heart.

I thought, This is it. My chance. My moment. The perfect place to finally propose.

THE GIRL I NEVER HAD, PART9

“KD, please don’t hit him again. Let me deal with him. Go home, please,” Lucy begged.

JK picked himself up, poked his nose a few times like he was checking for blood, and stood there with that same unreadable face. I waited for him to do something—anything—but he just stared. I wasn’t exactly fit for a fight, and I prayed silently he wouldn’t strike back. I could take a lot, but I couldn’t bear being beaten and humiliated in front of my dream girl.

Just then my mum called: the taxi had arrived. I didn’t waste a second. “No matter how beautiful a coffin looks, it won’t make anyone wish for death,” I muttered, and I bolted—home with my mum, leaving JK and Lucy behind.

Lucy was discharged the next day and missed a full week of school. I stayed home two days longer, but on the third day my mum dragged me back to school. She walked me straight to the headmaster’s office and left me there; I slid into class late and nearly missed first period.

The reception was mixed. Some kids were glad to see me; others made it clear they wished I hadn’t returned at all. Frank, EK, and MA gave me a warm welcome. We had plenty to catch up on—especially everything that happened while I was away.

MA wasted no time. “We must teach JK a lesson,” he said. EK agreed at once. Frank hesitated—he wanted peace, wanted us to let things go. I didn’t. I wanted revenge. I wanted JK to suffer. Three against one, the vote was in.

During break, Frank pulled me aside and pleaded for calm. “Let it go, KD. For the peace of the school,” he said.

Peace of the school? I thought. Did JK think about peace when he spread that lie?

In the end, Frank reluctantly agreed to join. “If the cockroach wants to rule the henhouse,” EK said, “it must hire the fox as a bodyguard.” We decided we needed someone to make sure the teacher would take action. We plotted a frame—small, surgical, and humiliating rather than cruel. The plan: steal an item from one of our mates and slip it into JK’s bag. When the victim reported the theft, the class teacher would be called to search, and the “found” item in JK’s bag would give him a punishable excuse.

We all liked the plan. We only needed time and to choose whose item we’d use. I also had my own private mission: get close to Lucy and win her heart. I was determined. “He who sits beside a beautiful lady and says nothing ends up fetching water at her wedding,” I told myself, certain now that I wouldn’t be silent.

THE GIRL I NEVER HAD, PART 8

She started by apologizing. Tears and apologies poured out of her before I could ask a single question. She begged for forgiveness, getting up from the bed and falling to her knees. She scrambled across the floor, clutching at my feet, unwilling to leave until I pardoned her. Her pleading drew eyes from around the ward; people glanced over, curiosity written across their faces.

I sat frozen. She left me very little choice. I had forgiven her in my head, but the wound still ached. If her explanation could fix that, then let her speak.

I sat down. She sat on her bed. She took a handkerchief under her pillow and wiped her tears. She was still sobbing quietly. I sat there helplessly looking at her. I thought I should do something to stop her from crying. I got up from my seat, and hugged her. She wrapped her arms around me. It was so tight that I could feel her breasts thrusting into my heart. I wished she would never let me go but the nurse entered the ward with a doctor. The doctor was going round to check on his patients.

The nurse and doctor came in then, doing their rounds. “Looks like you two are having a good time here,” the doctor joked with a short, awkward laugh. I felt a flush of shame that we’d been caught, but also a strange, quiet happiness: I’d finally held the girl I’d been chasing for so long.

When the doctor finished his checks, he told me I was fit to go and would likely be discharged by evening. I felt a sharp regret at the news; I wanted to stay a little longer beside Lucy. Maybe then she would tell me everything.

Just as the nurse and doctor left, Lucy’s mother returned with a big bowl of light soup and rice. She was kind and careful, and she shared some with me. I ate, but every bite tasted a little like goodbye.

After I finished, my mother told me I was being discharged and we had to go. I wanted to stay. I wanted another chance to speak with Lucy alone, to hear her truth and—stupidly—to be close to her again. But my mother was waiting and the ward was not mine to keep. I hugged Lucy one last time and wished her a speedy recovery.

“I’ll visit you tomorrow morning,” I said.

She answered with a wry, tired smile. “So you want me to stay here so you can have school all to yourself? Is that what it is?”

“No—no,” I said quickly. “I want you well. Come back to school and study. Don’t let this mess ruin you.”

Her mother glanced at me, clearly about to ask who JK was, but I could feel time slipping. My mother waited outside; I didn’t want to prolong things. I left.

We stood by the roadside under a merciless sun waiting for a taxi. I found a shady spot under a mango tree. While I waited, a familiar figure walked toward us, forehead prominent and gait slow.

It was JK.

Heat rose in me. I wanted answers. I wanted blood. I pictured confronting him, making him pay for the lies and for what he’d done to my name. By the time he reached me I had clenched my fists and rehearsed the words I would say.

He walked up, smiling, as if the world owed him good manners. Not a trace of shame. Not a hint of apology. That made my blood boil. I lunged. The fist I managed to throw connected, and JK went down hard on his backside.

For a moment I thought I would strike again. Then a hand gripped my arm from behind. I spun and saw Lucy. She was there, eyes wide, holding me back.

THE GIRL I NEVER HAD, PART 7

So Lucy was part of the plot to get me expelled? I thought she was beautiful, but I never knew she had such an ugly mind. I didn’t ask her mum any more questions. I simply told her I wanted to rest. She left me alone on the bed and went back to her daughter.

Not long after, my mum entered the ward with a steaming bowl of banku and okro stew. My favorite. I can eat it three times a day without complaint. I’m cocksure that even in death, if someone served me banku and okro stew, I’d rise from the grave, do justice to it, and then return quietly to the afterlife.

It was 10 a.m. and I was starving. Hunger was part of the weakness I felt. I washed my hands and dug in. But halfway through, I heard a sound—loud retching. I turned toward Lucy’s bed. She was vomiting. Poor Lucy.

That single sound killed my appetite. I couldn’t continue. The bowl that could’ve raised me from the dead suddenly meant nothing.

I was still angry at Lucy for conspiring against me, but pity tugged at my chest. Despite it all, I still loved her. In fact, the more she suffered, the stronger my love grew. I wished it was that ugly JK who was sick in her place. Poor Lucy!

I decided I’d talk to her, but not in front of our mothers. When the chance finally came—miraculously—we were alone. I got up, still weak but steady, and walked toward her bed.

She had her back to me. At the sound of my footsteps, she turned. The look on her face was priceless—wide-eyed, stunned.

“Jesus Christ, KD—is that you?” she blurted.

Her outburst even confused me. I wasn’t sure which of the two names she thought was mine. But then she smiled. That same infectious smile I’d always known.

I pulled a chair beside her bed. She was in her nightdress. Her dress was a bit light so one could see through it. I could see the nipples of her succulent breasts piercing through her dress. I couldn't take my eyes off it. For close to a minute, my eyes were fixed on her breasts, and mercilessly feeding on them. I didn't even realize she was talking to me, until she covered them with her bedsheet.

THE GIRL I NEVER HAD, PART 6

That night, I couldn’t sleep. I lay in bed, eyes wide open, replaying JK’s lies over and over. He’d gone too far this time. He had bitten more than he could chew, and I was ready to make him choke on it.

“I’ll make him suffer,” I whispered to myself. “I’ll make him cry. I’ll make him beg for his life.”

JK had thrown a stone at me, but I would throw a flower back at him—and remember to fling the flower pot with it.

I was boiling. So angry my body felt weak. My temperature climbed. My hands shook. The room spun. I tried to call my mother. I gathered everything left inside me and screamed her name. Then darkness.

When I opened my eyes, I was on a hospital bed. My first time being admitted. The room was large, lined with empty beds dressed in crisp white sheets. I felt small and weak.

A nurse walked in. She came straight to my bed. “How are you feeling?” she asked.

“I’m awesome,” I croaked.

Her smile was warm enough to lift me off the mattress. “Good answer,” she said. “Take your medicine and rest. Your mother’s gone home to make food for you. Oh—and one more thing. You’ll be getting a partner soon. Prepare for her.”

A partner? And a she? This hospital had wards for men and women, didn’t it? Why dump us together like this? I muttered silent curses in my head.

Then she entered. Not just the nurse—her. She came in with her mother, half leaning on them for support. They helped her to the bed across from mine. She moved slowly, exhausted. I watched, trying to make out her face. She looked familiar—too familiar. Please, not who I think it is.

Her mother left her with the nurse and came over to me. “How are you, my son?” she asked softly. “My daughter’s just been transferred from the intensive care unit to this ward.”

I nodded, still staring. “What’s wrong with her?”

The woman sighed. “She tried to kill herself last night.”

Shock rooted me to the bed. “Why?”

“She came home from school yesterday looking troubled. She wouldn’t eat. She cried and cried. Finally she confessed—she’d conspired with a boy to spread lies about a classmate. Because of her, the boy might be expelled. She couldn’t live with the guilt.”

My heart stopped. “What’s your daughter’s name?”

The woman looked at me. “Lucy.”

THE GIRL I NEVER HAD, PART 5

Lucy opened her mouth to say something, but JK’s arrival shut her up. She grabbed her bag and left with him. They walked away, giggling like two kids with a secret. Every now and then JK glanced back at me. I just stood there and watched them go until they disappeared down the road.

I slung my bag over my shoulder and started to walk home. The pain from the caning throbbed with every step. By the time I reached the compound, my mother was waiting at the gate. News travels fast in our town; she already knew about the canes.

She wanted my side of the story, so I told it—only I “seasoned” it a little. I left out the part about being in the classroom with Lucy. I left out the part about wanting to tell her I liked her. Instead I told her the headmaster had called us, given us work, and that I had received ten lashes. I doubled the number because misery deserves exaggeration.

She said nothing for a long beat. I could tell she didn’t believe me. She told me to go inside and change so we could eat. Midway to my room I heard her call out that one of my mates had come to see me. Who could it be now?

When I stepped out, Frank stood under the mango tree behind the compound, face drawn and serious. He looked like someone who’d swallowed bad news and was trying not to choke on it.

“What’s up?” I asked.

He didn’t waste time. “I heard something about you,” he said. “People are saying the headmaster caught you kissing Lucy. Are you suspended?”

My stomach turned. JK had started that rumour. How far would he go? I felt my blood go cold. I explained everything to Frank—the toilet, the letter, the headmaster’s test, Lucy helping me. Frank listened and believed me. He left after that, but his expression stayed with me.

After I ate, MA and EK came by. They looked the way friends look when the world is suddenly smaller and scarier. I told them what had happened. EK’s eyes flashed. “We should teach JK a lesson,” he said, immediately. MA agreed, but said we should leave Lucy out of it. She hadn’t spread the story. JK had.

I couldn’t argue. JK was a thorn in our side. He’d humiliated me and he’d lied. We agreed to meet the next day after school to plan. Whatever we did would be swift.

THE GIRL I NEVER HAD, PART 4

I followed the headmaster up to his office like a sheep being led to the slaughter. I’d only been in that room once before—when my mother came with me for admission. Since then I did everything I could not to be summoned there. Few students left that office without their pride bruised. So when he called me from the classroom, I knew trouble wasn’t coming—trouble was already waiting.

His office sat on the top floor. We climbed the stairs and stepped inside. He motioned to a chair and fussed with the small refrigerator tucked under his desk. That’s when things went strangely domestic: he handed me a chilled bottle of Fanta and kept one for himself. I thought maybe the headmaster had a soft spot for theatrics now—then he pulled a scrap of paper from his pocket, scribbled something on it, folded it, and handed it to me.

“Answer everything correctly,” he said.

I unfolded the paper. Algebraic expressions. Maths, of course. Of all the weapons a headmaster could use, this was his chosen blade. I felt the room tilt. If only my shark friend were here—Frank, was it?—I could have copied every word. But he wasn’t. It was just me, a pencil, and a ticking clock.

Fifteen minutes passed. Not a single number on the page. Sweat pricked my forehead. The headmaster opened his Fanta and took a long, casual sip, watching me like a hawk. He pushed the other bottle toward me. I refused. He opened it himself, set it beside my blank sheet, and peered down. He saw nothing written and walked out without a word.

I sat there staring at the white space, feeling small and stupid. With nothing to lose, I raised the Fanta and took a cautious sip. The relief was brief. The door swung open and the headmaster returned—this time not alone.

Lucy stepped in with him and sat on the chair next to mine. For a moment I forgot how to breathe.

“Your Maths teacher says he couldn’t do the work,” the headmaster said, handing the paper to her. “Can you help him?”

Lucy glanced at the sheet, frowned as if it were child’s play, and began to write. Her pencil moved with calm speed. In seconds she was done. The headmaster checked her answers and, with the exaggerated astonishment of a man who enjoys theatrical moralizing, marked each one correct.

“So tell me,” he said, lowering his voice as if lecturing a courtroom, “how come you can’t do such simple questions? You sit with Frank, yet you don’t learn. All you do is copy his work, get high marks, and then start fooling around with girls. Are you serious about your future?”

The speech finished with a sting—five lashes across my backside. The pain flashed hot and sharp. He ordered that I come to school the next day with my mother. I wanted to cry, but I didn’t. Not when Lucy was there. I refused to show weakness.

When the headmaster dismissed us, Lucy leaned closer, her voice small. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know he would—”

“It’s not your fault,” I said, even though inside I was a mess. She kept insisting it was her fault. She explained, hesitantly, that her parents had left her in the headmaster’s care, so she’d thought it right to tell him I wanted to meet after closing. Heat rose in me—anger, embarrassment, a bewildering pinch of something else. My mind sprinted through a dozen ridiculous responses: punch her, kiss her and run, throw myself at the wall. None of it felt like the right thing. I forced my face into anything but pain.

While my thoughts spun, JK appeared from nowhere. He stepped into the doorway like a man who’d been expecting the perfect moment to appear.

Inspiration

Permanence, perseverance and persistence in spite of all obstacles, discouragements, and impossibilities: It is this, that in all things distinguishes the strong soul from the weak.
-Thomas Carlyle
Have a lovely blessed day 👍😊🙏

Inspiration

Spare some minutes of your time and give thanks to God for all the valuable and priceless gifts you have in your life; your life, the air you breathe, the love and care you receive, your friends and family, etc. Don't forget to thank Him for even what you don't have. You have no idea the number of people who wished they were like you. Be GRATEFUL to God.
-K. Dwomoh
Have a lovely blessed day 👍😊🙏

Inspiration

Use your voice for kindness, your ears for compassion, your hands for charity, your mind for acceptance, and yourheart for love.
-marcandangel
Have a lovely blessed day 🙏😊👍

Inspiration

There comes a time when you have to stop thinking about your mistakes and move on.  No regrets in life – just lessons that show you the way.
-marcandangel
Have a blessed day 👍😊🙏

Inspiration

You are unique. God put a special ingredient in you, topped with the finest recipe, made with a special blend of goodness and favor! Don't underestimate your value.
-unknown
God bless you and keep shinning 👍😊🙏

Inspiration

One of the best gifts you can give to someone is thanking them for being part of your life. Thank you for being there for me, and all the roles you directly and indirectly play in my life. God bless you.
- K. Dwomoh
Have a lovely blessed day 🙏😊🙏

Inspiration

Everybody has a past. Some pasts can hurt.  Some are so bitter that we wished we could go back and change them. As it is now, we only have two choices, either RUN from our pasts or LEARN from our pasts. I'll choose to learn from my bitter past. What about you?
- K. Dwomoh
Have a lovely blessed day 🙏😊🙏

Inspiration

Sometimes you are delayed where you are because God knows there's a storm where you're headed. Be GRATEFUL!
-unknown
May God guide and guard you today 👍😊🙏

Inspiration

When you encounter someone with a negative attitude, don’t respond by throwing insults back at them.  Keep your dignity and don’t lower yourself to their level.  True strength is being bold enough to walk away from the nonsense with your head held high.
-marcandangel
Have a blessed day 👍😊🙏

Inspiration

We often complain about the way we are treated by others.  Well, just remember that the way you treat yourself sets the standard for others on how you demand to be treated. Don’t settle for anything other than respect."
-unknown
Have a blessed day 🙏😊🙏

Inspiration

Once a month, try something you don't think you'd be good at. You can find such happy surprises.
-Dianna Agron
Happy new month and may God keep you safe throughout this month 👍😊🙏

Inspiration

Infuse your life with action. Don't wait for it to happen. Make it happen. Make your own future. Make your own hope. Make your own love. And whatever your beliefs, honor your creator, not by passively waiting for grace to come down from upon high, but by doing what you can to make grace happen... yourself, right now, right down here on Earth.
-Bradley Whitford
Have a blessed day 👍😊🙏

Inspiration

It's another day, another life, and another opportunity that God has given you. You can't right all the wrongs in the past, but you can choose to make a brand new start. You can choose not to repeat the mistakes of the past. You can choose to be good, kind, merciful and compassionate to others. You have to make that choice today!
K. Dwomoh
May God guide and guard you today 👍😊🙏

Dream Girl

Dream, dream, dream, is all I do.
I wish you were in my arms now.
I yearn for that gentle touch.
Your sweet lips which part with good tidings.
Your bright eyes that carry away all my fears.
I need you to hold me tight.
I yearn for your stupendous love.
I need your love.
I need to see your beauty.
I need you to need me too.
But, I can't get any of these
Unless I scream until I dream my life away.
I don't know why
I can't get hold of you
I always mourn and cry
And you know it's true.
Unless I dream.
I can't see you.
Unless I dream.
I can't feel you.
Unless I dream.
I can't have you.
Unless I dream.
You are not mine.

K. Dwomoh

INTRICASIES OF LOVE

I was never prepared for this.
Yeah. 
This game that some folks call love. 
I did not know that I could suddenly and unexpectedly be caught in the web of love. 
I thought I was so strong, so bold and so courageous to be conquered by love.

But, look at me now. 
I sing love, eat love, drink love and sleep love.
Love has become the language that I speak. 
Love has taken over the better part of my body. 
Love, and not blood, now runs through my veins.

I don't get time to hate anymore.
Hate? 
I'm even shocked I was able to spell that word, because it is no more in my dictionary.

I didn't know love could do me any harm, until it paralyzed me. 
It pinned me down.
It restricted my movement, just to show me that it is now ruling my body.

I wish I could get a cure.
I wish there is, but I'm not sure.
Sometimes I scream in my dream, till I see streams of tears in my eyes.
Why is love so heavy a burden to carry?

I CHASED LOVE BUT FOUND SOMETHING ELSE. PT 3

All too soon, we've come to the end of our story. Oh, sorry—did I say our story? No way. I doubt you’d want to be part of this not-so-good rollercoaster of emotions. But since this is the final part or maybe not, I won't bore you with vague talk. Let’s get straight to business.

As I mentioned earlier, something dramatic happened just as I was about to leave the house. I heard a noise inside.

Wait—so someone was home all this time? But who? Her dad? Her mum? Her crazy brother? Her not-so-friendly sister? Or… her?

My only prayer was that it wouldn’t be her dad. Rumors about him weren’t pleasant. They called him heartless, mean, unapproachable. The kind of man who never smiles, always carrying an air of self-importance. If there was one good thing about him, it was that he managed to father a stunning 'angel.'

I stood there, my heart pounding, waiting to see who would emerge. When the gate creaked open, my breath caught. It was her.

She smiled, and for a moment, I turned into a statue—motionless, speechless. Her beauty was something my eyes couldn’t fully process. Her eyes were so clear and mesmerizing. Her face was flawless. Every detail of her presence screamed elegance.

She invited me in, offered me a seat, and handed me a drink. (Wow, a courteous lady too?). Then she apologized for keeping me waiting, explaining that she had felt a little dizzy and needed to rest.

Maybe she’s suffering from a lack of vitamin ‘Me’ in her system, I thought.

“Oh, sorry, dear,” I said. “Now that I’m here, you’ll be just fine.”

She chuckled. “I hear you. Thanks for your company, Mister.”

Mister? Is that all I get for taking such a risk to come here? I was expecting something like honey, darling, or at least sweetheart. But I kept my cool and forced a smile.

I had made up my mind—I would not leave this house empty-handed. I could sense she was falling for me but refusing to admit it. I had fallen for her too, but fear held me back. What if she rejected me?

But a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.

I knelt before her—just like they do in the movies—and let the words spill out.

“I love you.”

Then, with my most romantic voice, I added, “Honey, I want to write your name across my heart for the whole world to know you’re mine.”

Her expression changed. Did she faint? No. Did she smile? Not exactly.

Then she spoke.

“Why did it take you so long to say this?” she asked, her voice unreadable. “You’re too little, too late. I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do about it. You’re a nice person, but… I’m already engaged. I hope you find someone just as kind and caring as me. But hey, we can still be friends.”

Whaaaaat?!

So she knew she was engaged and still entertained me all this while? Why does everyone treat my fragile heart like a chew toy?

I stood up, ready to leave. There was no point in staying any longer—her parents had just called, saying they were on their way home. And trust me, I did not want to meet her ruthless dad, crazy brother, anti-social sister, or indifferent mum.

But just as I turned to go, she burst into laughter.

I frowned. “What’s so funny?”

She leaned forward, eyes twinkling. “Relax, I was just kidding. There’s no one else. I’ve accepted your proposal.”

Before I could react, she hugged me tightly, looked into my eyes, and gave me a quick kiss.

Her first kiss, she confessed.

Well, I have to make it a memorable one, I thought.

I gently pulled her towards me and kissed her deeply. It was so sweet, so intense—we couldn’t stop. We tumbled onto the sofa, lost in the moment.

Just as I was about to… ahem… express myself (don’t ask me what that means), the door flew open.

And there he stood.

Her father.

I swear, in that moment, I wished for the earth to split open and swallow me whole. But, of course, wishes never work in real life.

He clenched his fists, his face a mask of pure rage.

Just as he was about to strike—

I felt a tap on my shoulder.

I turned, and there stood my little nephew, Kwabota, grinning from ear to ear.

I CHASED LOVE BUT FOUND SOMETHING ELSE. PT 2

"Once bitten, twice shy." That's what they say. I had made the mistake of being fooled by a girl once. And the consequence? It nearly cost me my life.

Since that time, I resolved to always use a long spoon whenever I dined with the devil. No more blind trust—especially not in girls. Well, except maybe the one I’ll marry… which, of course, I’m still searching for.

But enough of the vague talk. Let’s get back to business.

You remember the "angel" I promised to tell you more about? Oh, you don't? The one who saved my ass from that brutal beating? Ah-ha! Now you remember her? Good.

Can you believe that since that night, I haven't seen her again? I know what you're thinking—was she a ghost or something? Well… I can’t say for sure. But she did give me her phone number, and we've been talking and chatting ever since.

Yes, she’s beautiful, kind-hearted, and an epitome of fashionable elegance, but I wasn’t about to let that fool me. I kept my guard up, careful not to fall into the same trap as before.

There's a Nigerian proverb I love: “If you wake up one morning and your cock begins to chase you, you must run, because you may never know if it has grown teeth overnight.” Funny, huh? But that was my motto.

Still, I couldn't just push her away because of my past. Not all girls were the same. I had to give her a chance. After all, even Siamese twins aren’t completely identical.

We started having long conversations over the phone. The details? I can't reveal everything. But the long and short of it is—I wanted to see her. Preferably at her house. My mission? To thank her personally. Her answer? Quite simple: she was thinking about it, and if I was lucky, I’d get my answer early in the morning.

Wow! What a girl. I spent the entire night rehearsing what I would say, my mind running wild with possibilities. I was so lost in thought that I barely slept.

Morning came. A message from my “angel” woke me up. The excitement jolted me fully awake. Her text read:

“At 11 a.m., there will be no one at home.”

A golden opportunity! I wasted no time. Took my bath, had breakfast, and got everything ready. By the time I was done, it was 10:30 a.m. I set off immediately, eager yet cautious.

She had given me her house address, so finding it wasn’t a problem. At exactly 11:01 a.m., I arrived and knocked.

Silence.

I knocked again. And again.

Still, nothing.

Ah! Where could she be at this time? Had she forgotten our appointment? But she had said there would be no one at home by 11 a.m.—

Wait a minute.

Or did “no one at home” include herself?

My heart sank. What was I thinking?

The gate was locked. The windows were shut. Not even a lizard stirred in the compound. I stood there, confusion creeping up my spine. Was this another deception?

I pulled out my phone and reread her message over and over again, hoping I had misinterpreted something. Should I call her? Should I text? Should I just walk away and forget about her?

As I stood there, debating my next move, something strange happened…

But let me rest for a while and read your comments before I prepare to tell you the next part of my love story.

I CHASED LOVE BUT FOUND SOMETHING ELSE. PT 1

Love? Sometimes, it can be a real pain. Forgive my sincerity, but why do I have to suffer for something that’s supposed to be sweet? Is it really worth it?

Okay! Enough of the silly questions. Let me get straight to the story.

It was a cold evening, and boredom was eating me alive. Tired of staring at the walls, I decided to step out, hoping to find a "debeaking partner." Don't ask me what that means.

Now, I know you’re itching to find out if I succeeded. Yes, I did. But... hmmm. This is the part where you need to pay extra attention. I ain't gonna repeat myself.

She was gorgeous—so breathtaking that I nearly forgot how to breathe. It felt like love at first sight, as if we had known each other since the beginning of the world. But in reality, this was the first time I had ever seen her.

There was something enchanting about her. Her bright eyes held a kind of joy that couldn’t be explained, and her smile—awww, so infectious. The moment she looked at me, I felt like my life had been on pause all this while, and now it was finally playing.

I couldn’t believe my luck. Me? Winning the heart, mind, and soul (but definitely not the body) of this beautiful lady? I was literally singing for joy in my heart.

I thought back to the number of less attractive ladies I had chased, wooed, and still failed to get. But now, here I was, standing before this stunning beauty, and she seemed genuinely interested in me. Maybe, just maybe, those folks were right—a shoe that fits you will slip on effortlessly.

The few minutes we spent talking felt like the best time I had ever spent on Earth. I threw in a bunch of witty questions, and trust me, there wasn’t a single one she didn’t smile, giggle, or laugh at. I was on fire!

But then… something changed.

At first, it was subtle. Her laughter became shorter, less genuine. She started glancing over her shoulder, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, like someone waiting for something—or someone.

I was so caught up in the moment that I ignored these little signs. Foolish me.

Then I saw him.

A man was approaching from a distance. Tall, broad-shouldered, moving with an air of quiet confidence.

I paused, expecting him to pass by. Maybe he was just a random pedestrian. But the moment he came close, the energy around us shifted.

The lady stiffened. Her breathing became shallow, her fingers twitching slightly at her sides. She bit her lower lip and looked down, avoiding my eyes.

Something was wrong.

The man walked past without a word, not even a glance in our direction. But that was when it happened.

Her face changed. The light in her eyes flickered out like a candle in the wind. Her pupils dilated, her mouth opened slightly as if she wanted to say something—but no words came.

She was trembling now, her hands clenched into small fists.

I frowned. “Hey, are you okay?”

She didn’t answer.

A cold shiver ran down my spine. A million-dollar question arrested my mind. Who was that man? And why did she suddenly look like she had seen a ghost?

Just as I was about to ask her again, a sharp, searing pain exploded at the back of my head. A loud thwack! rang in my ears.

Darkness swallowed me whole.

I couldn’t see. I couldn’t hear. I felt nothing.

Somewhere in the void, I thought I heard a scream—her scream. But was it real? Did she even care?

I had thought she was my lady. I had thought she loved me. I had thought she was into me.

I now understand that old saying well—if something is too sweet to be true, then it probably is.

I didn’t know she was just playing with my fragile heart. I didn’t know she had arranged with that man—her accomplice—to rob me.

Together, they took my shirt. My shorts. My shoes. And most importantly, my dignity.

I woke up minutes later, lying on the cold ground. Everything was gone—except for the blood oozing down the back of my head.

But fate wasn't entirely cruel. A kind soul—a charming lady—found me, covered me, and brought me home.

I had stepped out in search of love, but I returned without love, without my belongings, and without my pride.

Before you tell me whatever is on your mind, just wait for Part 2 of my story—where I tell you about the angel who had pity on me.

What? You can’t wait? Well, leave a comment while you warm up for the next part.