Not This Time, Love Pt 30

I went back to the boarding house with my shoulders dropping and my face heavy with sadness. I couldn’t believe Priscy could pay back all the love, attention, and time I’d invested in her with just one word — “brother.” From that point, I made up my mind never to chase her again. Never again.

I sat on my bed quietly, brooding over my broken heart. Tears started flowing. I threw myself face down into my pillow. Fighting back the tears was a herculean task. As I sobbed, someone tapped my shoulder.

I turned. It was one of my roommates.

“Somebody is calling you down there,” he said.

“Down where?” I asked.

He didn’t reply, just ran off to the dining hall because it was dining time.

I got up and started unbuttoning my shirt. In the process, I felt something in my pocket. I dipped my hand in and pulled out a neatly folded sheet of paper. Priscy’s letter to her secret senior lover.

I wanted to throw it away, but curiosity pinned me. I unfolded it and began to read:

 “Hi, sweet love,

I’m sorry for putting you through all this. I didn’t know how else I could have done it. Maybe I’m not romantic, but when I see a boy in love, I don’t need a magician to tell me. Anytime I see you, I see love in your eyes. Anytime I hear your voice, I hear love.

My heart’s a stereo. It beats for you, so listen close. Hear my thoughts in every note…”

I stopped reading because Jake had entered the room.

“KD, right after dining, we’re going to the prayer ground to pray. Don’t absent yourself, please.” His voice was serious.

Could this still be about that revelation? I was beginning to get worried.

He left, and I continued reading the letter:

 “I know you love me, and I also love you, but I’m waiting for you to tell me first. This time, don’t hide behind a sheet of paper. Don’t hide behind religious abracadabra. Come forward and tell me you love me. Take my hand, kneel down before me, propose to me. Let’s seal our relationship with a kiss. Just one kiss, love. Be a man and not a boy.

Your love is burning inside me like fire; only you can quench it. I need you. I want you. I love.

I’ll end here and wait for you to make the move.

Sincerely yours,

Priscy.”

I read the letter over and over again. She hadn’t written any name in it. Had she left it out on purpose, or by mistake?

I remembered what my roommate had said about someone calling me. I jumped out of bed, folded the letter, and slipped it into my pocket. I searched the campus everywhere but couldn’t find anyone.

“Ah, was this guy just making fun of me or was he serious?” I muttered to myself.

Since I was late for dining, I decided to go straight to the prayer ground and wait for Jake. When I got there, I saw no one but one girl.

Guess who? Priscy.

She was still on campus. Could she be the one who was calling me? I decided to ask her about it, and also who the recipient of the letter was.

“Oh finally, my angel is here. I’ve waited for you so long. I thought you would never come,” she said and hugged me.

I was shocked. Not too long ago, I was her “brother.” Now, her angel.

I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her tighter. “So, Priscy, you want to date me too in addition to your senior?” I asked, my hands still around her waist.

“Senior? Oh KD, that letter is for you. Did you see any names in it? KD, I saw the way you looked at me the first time we met. I saw how your whole body froze anytime I spoke to you. KD, I know you love me, but until you open your mouth and tell me, I won’t know it.”

I released my grip, went down on one knee, and gently said, “Will you be my lover, Priscy?”

“Yes, yes, yes, and yes,” she said, laughing.

I didn’t care how “holy” the ground was. I didn’t care that we were on campus. I stood up and asked her to kiss me.

She smiled shyly. “Oh KD, I wish I could, but Jake is approaching. For the kiss… not this time, Love.”

Not This Time, Love Pt 29

I was so shocked. I felt cheated. I felt disappointed. How could I risk my life, my academics, and my attention for a girl, only to receive disappointment in return? At that moment, my only fear was that I wouldn’t collapse again like I did that morning at the library.

“Priscy… ermm… ermm… are you sure you want me to do this? I don’t even know this senior you’re so much in love with. So how will I be able to give him the letter?” I asked, my voice trembling.

I waited for a response, but surprisingly, she burst into laughter. Uncontrollable, loud laughter. I didn’t know why she was laughing so hard. I wished she’d stop and explain, but she couldn’t even control herself.

Did I say something funny? If it was that funny, how come I couldn’t laugh? Oh gosh.

Finally, after what felt like forever, she caught her breath and spoke.

“Oh, I’m sorry KD. I forgot to go over the letter, and I guess I’ve committed some dangerous grammatical mistakes too. Please read over it, make the necessary corrections before you send it to him. I know you’re a Literature student, so when it comes to the English language, you’re the expert any Science girl runs to,” she said—and then laughed again.

She was trying to make me laugh. But I couldn’t. Not even a fake smile.

What does she take me for? A stone? A tree? A dog? Even dogs have feelings, how much more a human being like me?

I had even forgotten about the letter I’d written for her. I folded it tightly and pushed it into my shirt pocket. I didn’t want to display my disappointment to her, but I could feel it leaking out of me like a bad secret. My face betrayed me. She must have seen it, but she pretended not to.

“I’m going to the boarding house to rest for a while. I’m feeling dizzy,” I lied. She nodded, probably believing me—or maybe just not wanting me to collapse a second time that day.

I turned to leave. The letter for her was still in my pocket. Was it still worth giving? After she’d just handed me one for a senior?

I decided to give it anyway. “There’s no harm in trying,” they say. I dipped my hand into my back pocket and pulled it out gently. I turned to look for her. But Priscy was nowhere to be found. It was as if she had snapped her fingers and vanished into thin air.

I decided to search for her.

On my way, I saw Jake with a Holy Bible tucked under his arm, talking to a girl. His posture told me everything—he was preaching, trying to win her over to his prayer group. I didn’t want to interrupt, so I walked on, still scanning for my Priscy.

And even with all her open displays of undying love for that senior, I still loved her. I didn’t know why. I didn’t know why her actions kept pushing me away, but something deep inside kept pulling me back. Was this love—or was it foolishness?

I was still pondering when I saw her approaching.

My heart started beating faster. My lips went dry. My hands refused to move. My eyelids forgot how to blink. I stood there like a stooge, frozen. She looked like an angel walking towards me.

She got to where I stood and smiled. “KD, are you done reading and editing my letter so soon? Awwww, you’re really a good brother.”

A good brother?

So all this while Priscy had seen me as her brother?

That blow cut deeper than the cane of the headmaster.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, handed her my letter silently, and turned away. My feet carried me back to the dormitory, but my heart stayed behind with her.

Not This Time, Love Pt 28

Immediately I heard the knock, fear gripped me. My whole body froze. Sweat rolled down my face as a thousand thoughts rushed through my mind. Who could be behind the gate? I didn’t move. I didn’t speak. I just waited, hoping the person would knock again and leave.

Then came footsteps. My heart nearly leapt out of my chest. Each step grew louder, heavier, closer. I wished the earth could open and swallow me up, but it remained just a wish. The shame of being caught in the girls’ urinal would finish me more than any punishment. I shut my eyes and prayed silently that my worst fear wouldn’t come true.

The gate creaked open. My eyes flew wide—only to find no one inside but me.

“Ah! How’s this possible? Where did the person go?” I muttered. That’s when I realised: the knock and the footsteps weren’t from the girls’ urinal but the boys’. Fear had played games with my mind. Oh, what fear can do!

Relieved, I took out a piece of chalk and scrawled boldly on the wall: “I love you, Priscy.” I almost added my name but thought better of it. That would have been a recipe for disaster.

Now came the tricky part—getting out without being seen. I unlocked the gate slowly, carefully, and stepped out.

I almost fainted.

There he was—the headmaster—standing not far away, hands folded behind his back, a cane dangling from his right hand. Two unlucky students knelt nearby, already victims of his wrath.

My blood ran cold. If he saw me stepping out of the girls’ urinal? I didn’t even want to imagine. Thankfully, his back was turned. I tiptoed back inside and waited. Moments later, screams pierced the air. I peeped through a small hole and saw him lashing the two students mercilessly. My knees trembled, but my lips whispered a shaky prayer of thanks. I had escaped—for now.

“All because of love? Look at me suffering. Is it just me, or does everyone pay such a heavy price for love?” I kept asking myself, but there were no answers.

When the coast was finally clear, I slipped out and hurried to class. By then, the lesson was almost over. The teacher at the door refused me entry, telling me to wait outside until the period ended. I didn’t mind; I knew soon I’d hand my letter to Priscy.

As I leaned against the wall, trying to look invisible, my peace was short-lived. The headmaster again.

“Oh, not again! Why won’t this man just sit in his office and let me have some peace?” I muttered under my breath.

He spotted me and called me over. “Why are you outside when your mates are in class?”

I told him everything, trying to sound as innocent as possible. He was about to escort me back when the closing bell rang. Saved by the bell! He turned and walked off, leaving me free.

I didn’t bother going back to class. My moment had come. I marched straight to Priscy’s classroom, excitement bubbling in my chest. But disappointment hit me squarely in the face—again. A teacher stood in front of the class. Extra lessons. My hopes deflated like a burst balloon.

Frustrated, I turned to go find Jake. But then—sweet salvation.

“KD!”

Her voice rang like music. I didn’t need to guess. Priscy.

She walked up, smiling.

“Aren’t you part of the extra classes?” I asked.

“I was, but not anymore. I want to find something to eat—and also check on you,” she replied.

My heart warmed. I assured her I was fine.

Then she said the words that cracked my soul.

“Hey KD, you know what? I’ve written a lovely letter. Can you please give it to the senior for me?”

And just like that, she handed the letter over to me.

Not This Time, Love Pt 27

 

“A frog does not jump backwards,” our wise folks say. I had come too far to give up now. My aim was simple: win the heart of Priscy.

Jake’s so-called revelations? Oh, they could wait. I believed in prayer and in God, but the way Jake and his prayer group kept chasing me with scary prophecies was becoming unbecoming. “Two guests cannot be entertained satisfactorily at the same time.” I was faced with two options at closing: meet Priscy or meet Jake. But “he who wants what is under the bed must bend over to get it.” I wasn’t about to sacrifice Priscy’s meeting. I wanted her to read my letter. I was sure it would work its magic.

“No matter how dark the room is, a man will always find his way to the woman’s breast.” No matter the obstacles staring me in the face, I was optimistic I’d overcome them and win Priscy’s love.

On my way back from the canteen, belly full of fruit, I ran into Slim Bee—the same guy who, with his friends, had beaten up Jake. I’d seen him around before but never spoken to him. One good look at his face, and I thought he could land a role in any Hollywood horror movie. His two brown eyes were so far apart they looked like they belonged to two different people. His monstrous nose nearly swallowed his upper lip. No wonder Priscy couldn’t stand him. I couldn’t imagine how such a scary face had the confidence to chase after a beautiful girl like her.

I didn’t bother greeting him; I was afraid his looks might infect me. I just stared, then walked away. Every ten steps, I slipped my hand into my pocket to make sure the letter was still there.

Then nature called. At the urinal, something caught my eye: the wall. Covered with scribbles. Some students advertised their street names, others wrote unprintable insults at seniors known for bullying juniors. And then, an idea struck me. Why not sneak into the girls’ urinal and write my undying love for Priscy on the wall? Risky? Yes. Daring? Absolutely. But I was desperate.

I rushed back to class, grabbed some broken chalk from the floor, and kept the pieces in my pocket. From the moment I first saw Priscy, I had stopped thinking with my head. Now my heart was doing all the reasoning. I didn’t care about getting caught. Winning her attention was worth any price.

I decided to wait. During and just after break, the urinals were always crowded. After about thirty minutes, I asked permission from the teacher to step out. The Social Studies lesson was interesting, but the urge to win Priscy’s heart was stronger.

At the girls’ urinal, I waited a good five minutes to be sure no one was inside. No one went in, no one came out. Finally, I slipped in and locked the gate. Empty. Perfect.

I pulled out the chalk, found a bare space on the wall, and raised my hand to write.

Just then, a knock came at the gate.

Not This Time, Love Pt 26

I could be punched by Mayweather, Pacquiao, Bukom Banku, or even Ayitey Powers a million times and still be walking, but to be in love with someone who doesn’t love me back? I’d be dead in a day.

I was shattered when Priscy told me she was falling for one of the seniors—and then had the guts to ask me to help her get him. It felt as if my whole life had come to a halt. I just sat there watching her talk. I didn’t even hear what she was saying anymore; all I saw was the movement of her lips.

I grew weaker and weaker. Dizzy. The room started spinning. Then I dropped from my chair to the floor. For a moment, I thought I was dead. I thought it was the end. I thought I saw Death himself, telling me to go back because my time wasn’t up.

Then I came back to life. My strength returned, my eyes opened—and there was Priscy kneeling beside me, her hands shaking. She was screaming my name but stopped the moment she saw me wake up. Fear was written all over her face.

The librarian rushed over and asked what had happened. Priscy explained that we’d been talking and I had suddenly fallen to the floor, unconscious. Since the break was already over, he told us to go back to class. Priscy promised to check on me during the second break, but I told her I’d be going to the dining hall then.

In truth, I was thinking of a plan. I needed to act fast before I lost Priscy to that senior. She had taken the best part of me—my heart—and I’d come too far to let her slip away. To sit back and watch her run into someone else’s arms would be like handing my bitterest enemy a loaded gun and asking him to shoot me. As the saying goes, “You never realize how much you love someone until you watch them love someone else.”

I didn’t get time to write the letter during class, so at second break I sacrificed my lunch again. I waited until my classmates had gone out, pulled out a sheet of paper, and started writing:

---

Dear Priscy,

I wish I had known you were ready to love and be loved. I wish I had known that behind the “prayer director” title burned an unquenchable desire to be loved. Priscy, I have tried hard to hide my feelings for you for far too long. Now I’m ready to unleash all these months of bottled-up love.

I love you in a way that consumes me. I want you to be mine. I want to wrap you in my arms, skin against skin, hands intertwined, so you can fall asleep to the sound of my heartbeat. Don’t give your heart to any other guy. Promise me you will never be anybody’s darling but mine.

I will care for your heart. I will care for your body. I will feed you with love. I will be honest, faithful, and kind to you. Priscy, give your love to me and let me give you mine. Let us join our hearts together and love each other like nobody’s business.

I hope to get a positive reply from you.

Your secret lover,

KD

---

When I finished writing the letter, I was starving. I decided to go and buy some fruit to eat. On my way, I met Jake. He still looked weak. I knew he was still fasting. I almost pitied him, because the same girl he was fasting and praying for was busy chasing after a senior’s heart.

“Hey KD, you couldn’t come for the afternoon prayers. Priscy was there, and I thought you’d also come but you didn’t,” he said.

“Yes, I couldn’t come, but I’ll try and make it in the evening,” I replied.

“Ermm, KD,” he continued, “there’s been another revelation about you. I hope we can meet after closing so we can talk about it. Please try and meet me after closing.”

He said that and walked away.

Closing time? The same time I’d planned to meet Priscy? Like seriously?

Not This Time, Love Pt 25

“Can we go now?” Jake asked Priscy, acting as though he hadn’t even seen me standing there talking to her. His behaviour felt disrespectful and rude. I couldn’t understand why he always loved to act like a boss. No wonder he had received those dirty punches from the guys.

I stayed calm and waited for Priscy’s response.

“Ermm, KD wants to discuss something with me at the library, and I don’t want what happened yesterday to repeat itself,” she said.

As soon as Priscy spoke, Jake turned and walked out of the class without a word. I knew he was angry. One thing Jake couldn’t stand was being challenged. He always wanted his words to be followed religiously, without question. So when Priscy spoke like that, I knew trouble was looming.

I had wanted to follow Jake—to convince him not to go—but I didn’t. After sacrificing my breakfast just to meet Priscy, I wasn’t ready to miss this opportunity for anyone.

We went to the library. The place was so quiet, almost eerie. The only person there was the librarian, whose face was buried in a book. He was so absorbed that he didn’t even respond to our greetings.

We went to the far end of the library and opened books in front of us, pretending to be reading. Now it was time to start talking, but I was nervous. She was waiting to hear something from me, yet I kept flipping pages as if my prepared speech was hidden somewhere in the book.

“So, KD,” she said at last, “why are we here? You said you wanted to discuss something with me. I hope it’s not about Jake?”

I didn’t know what to say. I badly needed to know what had happened the previous day, but looking at her posture, I could tell she wasn’t ready to go into the nitty-gritty with me. “Whether it was the tenant who seduced the landlord’s wife, or the landlord who seduced the tenant’s wife, it’s the tenant who would leave the house,” I told myself.

I didn’t really care to know what had transpired. My target was to win her heart, and the first step was to know if it was my letter she had received.

I asked her about the letter she’d gotten the previous day.

As soon as I asked, she beamed with a smile. I knew it was only my letter that could do that kind of magic—not any other guy’s.

“KD, honestly I don’t think Slim Bee wrote that letter. I tried to convince Jake that it wasn’t that guy but another person, but Jake wouldn’t listen,” she replied. She continued, “I even have the letter in my pocket. I asked Slim Bee about it, and he vehemently denied ever writing it. He even showed me his notebook and asked me to compare the handwriting. They weren’t the same. Now my headache is to find this secret lover.”

When she said that, I wanted to scream at the top of my voice and confess that the secret lover was sitting right before her—but I didn’t. I didn’t know how she would take it. I was terrified that if I confessed, I’d lose her.

“Can I also read the letter?” I asked.

She smiled and handed it to me. I read it and—hurraaaaaaaay—it was my letter.

“KD, I don’t know what to do now,” she said. “I guess this person must be in love with me. I couldn’t sleep last night. I read the letter over and over again. No wonder I still have it in my pocket. I wish I could reply to this guy, but I don’t know how, because he didn’t even write his name in the letter. I’m very sure it’s one of the seniors. The words in the letter just won’t leave my head. I never knew I could arrest the attention of a guy in such a manner.”

She stopped talking for a moment, looked me straight in the eye, and said, “KD, will you help me get this senior? Please do me this favour. And I beg you, don’t tell Jake. Let this remain between the two of us.”

I was shocked to the core, hearing her pour those words into my ears. A prayer director? Falling for a senior—and needing my help to get him? Could this be some weird dream I was having?

Not This Time, Love Pt 24

“The cane that was used to beat the first wife is the same cane that would be used to beat the second wife.” Jake’s story frightened me. I knew, without a doubt, that if I wasn’t careful, I would also end up in excruciating pain like him. Jake broke into tears after his story. I tried to console him and told him I would take up the matter and deal with those rascals.

I had never seen those boys before. I didn’t know how big or strong they were. I didn’t even know if I could beat them or not. But as our wise folks say, “If the cockroach wants to rule over the chicken, then it must hire the fox as a bodyguard.” I needed a plan—a very good plan—to put those rascals in their place. We went back to the dormitory to sleep.

That night on my bed, I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about Priscy and those rascals. Was it even worth it to fight them? From Jake’s account, Priscy had run away as soon as the boys pounced on him. Could that be a sign that one day, if I finally held her heart, she’d run away and leave me too? Or was that even the full truth of what Jake told me? “Until the rotten tooth is pulled out, the mouth must chew with caution.” I decided to delay my judgment until I heard the other side of the story. I said a short prayer and finally slept.

I woke up the next day rejuvenated, poised to face whatever would come. I said a short prayer. I read my Bible. I went to do my morning duty. I took my bath, dressed up neatly, and grabbed my bag. Just when I was about to leave the dormitory, Jake called me.

He told me about a bad dream he’d had. In the dream, he was being lynched by a group of people. Luckily, I came to his rescue. We prayed about the dream and I went out, leaving him to finish getting ready. I knew it was the heavy punches from those guys that made him dream like that. I wasn’t scared of the dream, because even if it came true, I would be his rescuer—not the one being lynched.

I decided to sacrifice breakfast that day. I didn’t want to go to the dining hall. I used the time instead to meet Priscy. I needed her side of the story. How had she managed to run away and leave Jake to his fate? And the letter—the letter that had sparked the fight. Could it be the one I’d written to her? Or was it another letter entirely? If it was mine, I had to clean the mess. How? Well, I’d do it my own way.

I’m sure you’re wondering if I would run to Priscy and confess that I was the one writing the letters, not the other guy. Far from that. That would be the dumbest thing I could ever do. I wouldn’t stop writing her anonymous love letters. She would keep receiving them until I finally got hold of her heart and made it mine.

“If a snake does not act like a snake, little children will use it to tie firewood.” I gathered all the courage within me and went to Priscy’s class. She looked especially pretty that day. As soon as she saw me, she smiled.

I have seen over a million smiles from pretty ladies, but hers was my favorite. I fell in love with the way she touched me without even using her hands. My love for her consumed my thoughts and captured my heart. Right there and then, I wished I could go down on my knees and propose to her—just like they do it in the movies—but I controlled myself.

“Are you going out for break?” I asked her.

“No, I don’t feel like eating this morning.”

“Okay, can we go to the library then? I want us to talk about something.”

I made the request, and before she could even answer, Jake appeared from nowhere.

Not This Time, Love Pt 23

Immediately after prep, I went straight to Jake’s bed. He was lying down, facing the wall. When I called him, he turned to me. He still looked weak, though a little better than before.

“Hey KD, are you back from prep so soon?” he asked, trying to sit up.

“Yes, I’m back. Jake, do you always get this weak anytime you fast?” I asked.

“Hmmm, KD, it’s not just the fast oo. When I went out to meet Priscy, something happened. But don’t worry, I’m okay now. And hey, thanks for the mashed kenkey. I never knew you could prepare it so well.”

As soon as he finished talking, he tried to lie back down, but I stopped him.

“Hey, it isn’t okay. Whatever happened out there, tell me. You can confide in me. I’m your friend—harmless as such. And when it comes to secrets, you can count on me. Even if you don’t want us to talk here in the dorm, we can go out. Yes, let’s go somewhere more private. I’m willing to hear everything from you,” I said, trying to convince him.

He hesitated at first, but I kept assuring him he could trust me and that I wanted to help. Finally, he agreed to talk but not in the dormitory. He wanted somewhere just for the two of us. He got up, wore a white shirt, but quickly took it off. From his bag, he pulled another shirt and wore it.

I saw the bloodstains on the white shirt he’d removed. My heart raced. Something was definitely wrong. But I acted as though I hadn’t seen anything.

He walked with me slowly to a secluded area in the boarding house. There were no students around—just the two of us. He sat on a concrete block while I stood, anxious to feed my hungry ears with whatever story he was about to tell. He motioned for me to sit beside him, but I declined. “I’m okay here,” I said.

“So now, Jake,” I began quietly, “tell me what happened. Tell me everything. I’m ready to listen. Even if your case demands prayers, I’ll pray with you.”

He started speaking, and I listened without a single interruption.

“KD, thank you so much for being a friend. At first, I thought you were just acting, but I now know you’re real. I’m sorry—I can’t tell you everything that happened. I’ll only tell you what you need to know.

“Priscy, our prayer director, came to me with a report. She told me that a certain guy had been proposing to her from the very first day she set foot in the school. She warned him countless times to stay away, but he kept putting pressure on her until it even affected her studies. She showed me the guy one day, and I went to warn him. From that day, the guy stopped approaching her, and she finally had peace to study.

“She told me another problem we were fasting over, but I can’t tell you what that is.”

He paused, then continued.

“Hmmm KD, after I had gone to pray with her at the praying ground after the fast, she showed me a letter. As soon as I read it, I knew that same guy had started his nonsense again. I told Priscy we should go to him one last time and warn him. She agreed.

“When we got to the science block, the guy was still there studying with his friends. The mistake I made was going to face a strong guy like that on an empty stomach. As soon as I finished warning him to stay away from Priscy, one of his friends pushed me. I tried to prove I was ‘man’ enough to stand them all.

“KD, all I realised was that I was on the floor and they were landing heavy punches all over my body. Priscy? Oh, she was long gone. I was left alone in the hands of those tyrants.”

Not This Time, Love Pt 22

I felt like punching Jake in the face for giving me that assignment while he went off to meet the girl of my dreams. I was helpless, frustrated, and deeply unsettled. I had no idea what he was discussing with Priscy. I considered following him secretly, but I changed my mind. Instead I opened my Bible and began reading the quotations he had given me.

I read one verse after another, then prayed—for courage to lead the Bible study and for Jake not to snatch Priscy away from me. They say, “the grasshopper that sleeps forgetfully wakes up in the mouth of the lizard.” That thought stuck with me.

“The little opportunity given to a monkey to wear clothes does not guarantee it a seat at the dining table,” I muttered to myself. Just because I’d shown Jake respect didn’t give him the right to go near Priscy, let alone steal her. Priscy was mine—nobody else’s. I waited for Jake to return, but he didn’t come before dining. I kept wondering where he was. Was he still with Priscy? What were they doing? Was he a true Christian, or just hiding behind religion to lure her into sin? Maybe I was being paranoid.

After dining it was time for the prayer meeting, so I grabbed my Bible and headed to the praying ground. Just as I was about to leave, Jake walked in. He looked weak—like a boxer coming out of the ring.

“I won’t be able to come to the prayer meeting tonight,” he said. “I fasted from 6 a.m. to 6 p.m. I need to eat and rest.” Then he went straight to his bed without waiting for me to reply.

Was he telling the truth? Or was this a cover for what he had done with Priscy? Again, maybe I was being too suspicious.

I led the Bible study and the prayers. Afterwards, I returned to the dormitory and found Jake still on his bed. He didn’t answer when I called him—then, after a few shouts and a shake, a faint voice answered. He was weak from hunger. I alerted the roommates and we mashed kenkey for him. By the time prep started he was regaining strength.

The dorm prefect let him rest in the dorm while we went for prep. I didn’t tell the others that hunger had nearly felled Jake; I told them he’d forgotten his medication and hadn’t eaten. That night I checked his chop box and found it empty—no gari, nothing. The term was young; where had his food gone?

I still hadn’t discovered what he and Priscy did after “breaking the fast.” Maybe nothing bad happened. Maybe everything I feared was in my head. But I couldn’t live with the doubt. So I decided: right after prep I would walk straight to Jake’s bed and demand to know everything—exactly what he did with Priscy when he went out to meet her.

Not This Time, Love Pt 21

 

He came running toward me, dripping with sweat. His shirt was half–tucked, his face unshaven, and his whole appearance screamed chaos.

“Mike? Is that you? How did you even get into the school? I thought you’d been expelled. What are you doing here?” I asked, confused.

“I came to visit some of my friends—of course, that includes you. I hope you’re happy to see me,” he said, almost proudly.

Happy? Who the hell did he think he was? This was the same guy who dragged me into his rape case, and now he had the nerve to call me his friend? Worse still, he was expecting me to be glad about it. This guy must be losing his mind. And to top it all, he even looked like someone who had completely lost it.

Before I could even respond, two school security men appeared and grabbed him. He begged them to let him stay, but they ignored his pleas. As they dragged him away, he screamed at the top of his lungs, loud enough to draw a small crowd of curious students.

I overheard one of them whisper that Mike was wanted by the police.

Wanted? For the same rape case the court dismissed as a “foolish case”? Or had he committed another crime? My chest tightened. What if he dragged me into something else?

Rumours started flying. Some said Mike had impregnated the girl he had been with in the classroom. Others claimed he was caught smoking Indian hemp in a ghetto, but somehow managed to escape when he was arrested. I had no idea what was true or false, so I pushed the gossip aside. The bell rang for “break over,” snapping me back into reality. I dashed to class.

I didn’t get the chance to see Priscy during second break, so I promised myself I’d find her right after closing. But another idea came to me—what if I sent the letter to her through the senior housemaster’s office? Maybe I could deliver it personally. But no—that was a terrible idea. She’d immediately know it came from me.

The thought of handing her the letter consumed me until the final bell rang. I rushed straight to her class, bag slung over my shoulder. She was there—but not alone. A few students were seated, and a teacher was at the board. Extra classes.

My heart sank. Still, I waited outside her classroom, hoping they’d finish soon. Ten minutes passed. Then twenty. By the thirtieth minute, it was clear the lesson was far from over. Disappointed, I decided to drop my bag at the dormitory and come back.

Love makes you do insane things. Things you’d swear you’d never do—until you catch yourself doing them. That was me right then. I didn’t care how drained I felt; all I cared about was my “Priceless” Priscy.

But fate had other plans. When I reached the dormitory, Jake was already sitting on my bed, waiting for me. I thought of turning back, but our eyes met before I could escape.

“Hey KD, where have you been? I’ve been waiting here so long,” he said, as though he had the right to monitor my movements.

“I stayed back in class to finish an assignment,” I lied.

“Oh, okay. I hope you’re ready for Bible studies. You look tired, but I want you to lead today’s session,” Jake added, almost like it was an order.

I wanted to refuse. The last thing I needed was him thinking I only joined the prayer group because of Priscy. So I said, “I asked Priscy to wait for me after her extra classes, so I want to see her now. Make sure you read the Bible quotations well.”

And with that, I left the dormitory and headed back toward Priscy.

Not This Time, Love Pt 20

“Who is Priscy?” I asked Jake.

“Oh, the girl who came to us this morning while we were chatting. That’s her over there. Let me call her and do a proper introduction.”

I didn’t like the idea of him calling her, but before I could protest, he had already done it.

“KD, meet Priscy, our prayer director. Priscy, this is KD, our new member.”

I shook her hand—and refused to let go. Her sugar-candy lips said, “Hello,” and I muttered, “Hi.” I stared straight into her bright eyes. And yes, my gaze caught those pencil-thin eyebrows. I was mesmerised. Her looks could drive any sane guy into a world of perpetual fantasy.

Jake pried her hand out of my grip and told me to go back to class.

What impudence! If not for love, would I even be here, letting him order me about? He should wait until I reveal my real character. For the sake of love, I would remain calm. For the sake of love, I would play the fool. For the sake of love, I would be his slave. But when I finally win Priscy’s heart, then Jake will know who the real boss is.

And the most annoying part? He had the guts to question me—asking whether I had come to the praying ground because of Priscy. Who does he think he is? A prophet? A seer? A sorcerer? Well, we’ll see.

Then I remembered the letter—the love letter I had written for my crush, Priscy. Oh, you thought I’d forgotten about it? Not at all. That plan was still very much alive.

When I got to class, I could suddenly understand everything the teacher said. Priscy’s handshake was working wonders. If a simple handshake could make me grasp every detail, what would a hug or a kiss do? I imagined how a kiss from her would be. Would it be sweeter than Lucy’s? And could I even win her heart? A prayer director? If I didn’t play my cards well, she might end up pinning me down and preaching to me instead. I needed to convince her I was serious about my Christian life.

During the second break, I went to the senior housemaster’s office to execute my plan.

“I hope you’re not coming here to report someone?” he asked as soon as he saw me.

“No, sir. I’m here for my letter, please,” I answered.

“There are three boxes on the table over there,” he said. “Look through them to find yours. If you find it, write your name, date, and class in the notebook on the table.”

If I were truly coming for a letter, I wouldn’t have the patience to go through that pile. I took one of the boxes and started rifling through it, all the while spying on the housemaster to see if he was watching. Luckily, he was busy writing. I slipped my letter out of my back pocket and added it to the pile.

I stood there for a few minutes, then told him I couldn’t find my letter.

“But are you sure your name was mentioned at the assembly hall?” he asked.

“I didn’t hear my name,” I said, “but one of my friends told me the prefect mentioned it the other day.”

I acted disappointed, but deep inside I was thrilled. The letter was in. All I had to do now was wait for Priscy’s name to be called at the assembly hall. I couldn’t wait to see her “holy” face after she had received and read it.

I was confident that, now that I’d been introduced as a member of the prayer group, it would give me the perfect chance to get close to her. The only person who could pose a threat was Jake. I needed a plan—a plan that would make him believe in me and never suspect that I had joined the prayer group because of Priscy.

I decided to pay Priscy a surprise visit in her class. But on my way, I heard someone call my name.

I turned. It was Mike—the rapist.

Not This Time, Love Pt 19

All the thirty minutes I spent at the assembly hall were used to search for the nameless post office girl. It was a herculean task. How do you scan through over a thousand faces in such a short time? I couldn’t keep the letter on me much longer, so I decided to go back to her class and check if she was there.

On my way, I met Jake. He asked why I had stopped attending the prayer meetings. I didn’t have a solid excuse, so I just promised him I’d come that evening. The truth? I had lost interest. I didn’t want them predicting the next danger that would supposedly come my way. As I stood there talking with Jake, I suddenly saw her. The nameless post office girl. She was walking briskly—clearly late that morning.

As soon as I spotted her, I lost focus. Jake’s words faded into background noise. My heart started hammering. She came closer and then, unbelievably, turned in our direction. Was she really walking toward me? I couldn’t believe it. I hadn’t even given her the letter yet. I hadn’t proposed. I hadn’t confessed my undying love. Could she be coming to propose to me? Oh, no. That was impossible.

She smiled now, flashing a breathtaking set of teeth. But the shock came when I realized her smile wasn’t meant for me. It was Jake. Yes, Jake. She walked up and had a hearty chat with him while I stood by like an invisible bystander. The only “joy” I got from her that morning was a half-hearted “hi.”

I waited for their conversation to end, but before I could get a chance, the master on duty appeared, and we all scattered to our classes. Maths was first that morning, but I couldn’t concentrate. Numbers danced on the board, yet all I could picture was the two of them smiling and chatting. How long had they known each other? Was she Jake’s girlfriend? Or just a friend? I needed answers.

By first break, I had a plan. I would corner Jake and get the truth out of him—and hopefully her name too. As a backup, I also decided to sneak my letter into the pile of correspondence at the senior housemaster’s office. That way, I could be sure it would reach her.

When break came, I hurried to the dining hall, scanning for Jake. His seat was empty. I kept glancing over, but he never showed. Eventually, I asked one of his table members, who told me Jake was fasting that day. Fasting? Where would “Pastor” Jake be then? His class? Or the “praying ground”?

After dining, I rushed to his class—no Jake. So I headed straight to the prayer ground. And there he was, on his knees, praying. But he wasn’t alone. My crush was there too. Yes, the nameless post office girl, kneeling right beside him. They weren’t the only ones—three other students were also deep in prayer.

I didn’t know whether to join or stand aside. In the end, I just waited. It was at that moment I realized: if I wanted a chance at winning her heart, I had to join this prayer group. I had to learn the Bible—by fair means or foul. That would bring me closer to her.

When the prayer ended, I approached Jake. But before I could speak, he started first.

“Hey KD, I’m surprised to see you here. I hope you’re not here because of Priscy?”

Priscy. So that was her name. Priscy.

Not This Time, Love Pt 18

When I finished the headmaster’s office, an idea hit me like a brick: find someone I could love here and not starve waiting for Lucy. Have you ever been in a crowd and felt alone? Have you loved someone so much you thought you’d gone mad? That was me. I loved Lucy, but the nameless post office girl was stealing my breath. She filled my thoughts, body, and spirit. The fire in my chest burned hotter by the hour. How long could I keep fasting for a love that was thousands of miles away? I had to move on. I had to pursue the nameless post office girl. I had to win her heart.

I thought up a plan—one that would let me chase this new crush without letting Lucy know. Unfair? Maybe. But you don’t put all your eggs in one basket when the stakes are this high. I decided to get closer to the nameless post office girl by writing her a letter. I would be smart about it.

One Sunday afternoon, the visiting day when I knew my mum would not come, I sat alone in a classroom with a sheet of paper and a pen and wrote fast.

Hi sweetie,

I have admired you from afar for so long. I tried to suppress my feelings, but I have given up. Every time I see you I am mesmerized. I fell in love with you the first time I saw you by the roadside selling with your grandmother. I thought I had lost you, yet you kept appearing in my dreams. When I came to school and saw you here, I knew destiny had brought us together. Sweetie, can you do me a favour? Please don’t look for another lover. You have already found one. Take care of yourself.

Yours truly,

Secret Admirer

I finished the letter quickly because I wanted to hide it in my chop box before anyone could find it. Then came the problem: how to get it to her. Walk up and hand it to her? No. She would know it was me, and that would ruin the suspense. Slip it under her desk? Risky—someone else might find it first. I didn’t want to involve a third party. I wanted the whole thing to be secret.

When Monday came I still wasn’t sure which move was smartest, but slipping the note under her desk looked better than the rest. So I planned to get to her classroom early and leave it there. I arrived and found the room empty, the desks in disarray. That made the idea too risky, so I slipped the letter back into my pocket and walked to the assembly hall for morning assembly.

Not This Time, Love Pt 17

On my way to the classroom, I saw the nameless post office girl coming out of her class. She looked stunning — so stunning I couldn’t just glance once and walk away. My eyes followed her until she got closer. I wanted to say something, but another voice in my head warned me.

What if the Senior Housemaster sees me talking to her? What if that spy is still monitoring my movements?

The questions chased each other in my mind as she passed. This time, she spoke first.

“Hi,” she said softly, and kept walking.

I froze. I didn’t even respond. The right reply came to me only after she had gone. I decided to wait for her return so I could redeem myself.

As I stood there, my mind drifted back to the morning’s chaos — my missing letters, the Senior Housemaster’s “drilling.” Was I just adding insult to injury by standing outside, waiting for the nameless post office girl?

Our elders say, “One does not have to swallow his cough for fear of disturbing others.” How long would I keep suppressing my feelings because I was in school, or because someone had dragged me into a rape case? I thought, I have to win her heart before anyone else does.

I saw her returning. This time I couldn’t even look her way. The closer she got, the more tense I became. My composure crumbled. I couldn’t imagine myself actually talking to her. So I did the only thing my nerves allowed. I… I… I ran to my class.

Oh, what a coward.

As soon as I sat down, the bell rang for break. I decided to go to the dining hall for breakfast. On my way, the Senior Housemaster stopped me.

“Come and see me after break,” he said.

Oh, not again, I muttered to myself. What now?

I couldn’t finish my cup of Hausa kooko. Anxiety robbed me of my appetite. When dining was over, I went straight to his office. Break wasn’t even done, but my curiosity burned hotter than my fear.

He was having his breakfast when I entered. I almost stepped back out, but he told me to sit. Watching him eat made me uncomfortable, so I let my eyes wander to the framed photos on the wall — snapshots of school activities neatly displayed.

When he finished eating, he finally spoke. And to my surprise, it was good news.

According to the disciplinary committee, I was not part of Mike’s case with the girl. They had also confirmed I wasn’t in the occult group. Lastly, they advised me to be careful with the friends I chose on campus.

Relief washed over me. I got up to leave, but he asked me to wait. He stepped out briefly, then returned with a bowl of banku and okro stew.

“Go to the dining hall and enjoy this meal,” he said. “My wife prepared it specially for you. Don’t forget to wash the bowl and return it. Ermm… one last thing: be on your best behavior, because the behavioure your case comes to my office, you won’t escape with another bowl of banku and okro stew.”

I laughed out loud and left his office.

While enjoying the food at the dining hall, one of my roommates came over and confessed. He admitted he had taken my letters at dawn, but while reading my reply to Lucy on his bed, one of the seniors had seized it. He hadn’t wanted to hand it over, but the senior threatened to punish him.

I didn’t know why he was telling me this. Was it because he wanted some of my food? I gave him the rest anyway — I was full.

When I returned the bowl and headed back to class, I saw the nameless post office girl coming out of my classroom. Could it be that she had come to look for me? Or had she found a friend in my class? Or maybe she was struggling with Science and was moving to my class?

Not This Time, Love Pt 16

The Senior Housemaster held up the two letters and stared at me. “KD, do you have any explanation to give?”

My stomach churned. How had my letters ended up on his table? He didn’t even live on campus. It had to be one of my roommates. He leaned back in his chair, waiting. I couldn’t speak. Shock pinned my tongue to the roof of my mouth.

When my silence dragged on, he began to speak.

“So the news is true? You’re a member of Mike’s occult group—the one that uses spells on girls?”

I opened my mouth to protest, but he raised his hand for me to keep quiet.

“Mike told the disciplinary committee,” he went on, “that you planned with him to sleep with that girl. According to him, you went first. When you finished, you left the room so he could also have his turn. During the act, the girl fainted. He says he escaped through the window, leaving her behind.”

My jaw dropped so wide it could have swallowed three cows. Mike had dragged me into his filth. Me—who didn’t even know an occult group existed on campus, let alone joined one. And me—who had barely spent two minutes in the room with him and that girl. Sweat broke out across my forehead even though the weather was cool.

The Senior Housemaster paused, then continued, “When Mike told us, I didn’t believe him. So I tasked one of the students to spy on your movements. This morning he brought these two letters. I didn’t believe you wrote them, so I went to your exercise book to compare the handwriting. They’re almost the same. KD, I’m tempted to believe you’re somehow connected to Mike’s case, but I can’t point to exactly where. I want you to be honest with me—brutally honest. Tell me the whole truth. Because I still feel you’re innocent.”

His words hit like a sledgehammer. This was it. Time to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. I slumped into one of the chairs and began to cry. The weight of the accusations felt heavier than my chest could hold. The Senior Housemaster said nothing. He just watched me, letting me cry myself out. But when the tears dried, the problem was still there.

I had to speak. The final verdict would be my word against Mike’s. Every time I opened my mouth, fresh tears rolled down my cheeks.

“Hey, gentleman,” he snapped at last, “I can’t spend the whole day with you here. If you can’t speak for yourself, I’ll take what Mike said straight to the Headmaster, and you’ll face the consequences. So talk—and stop behaving like a kid in a diaper.”

Something inside me hardened. I wiped my face and spoke. This time, no tears. I told him everything. From my JSS days when I met Lucy and fell in love with her, to coming to this school and developing a harmless crush on the nameless post office girl.

When I finished, he nodded slowly, but his face gave nothing away. Not a flicker. All the while I’d been talking, he’d been writing furiously, as if I was giving him lecture notes.

When he was done, he set his pen down, looked at me, and advised me quietly for a few minutes. Then he told me to return to class. I thanked him and stepped out, my mind spinning.

Just a few steps from his office, I heard him call my name. I turned back. He held out the two letters. I took them. Could this be a sign I wouldn’t be punished? I walked away silently, praying under my breath, waiting for whatever would come next.

Not This Time, Love Pt 15

 

That night, I couldn’t sleep. I sat on my bed, took out a sheet of paper, and began to write. Every word poured straight from my heart. I told Lucy how much I loved her. I wrote about the past—our struggles, my mistakes—and how I’d decided to wait for her, and her alone. When I finished, I folded the letter carefully and slipped it under my pillow. Tonight, I wanted nothing more than a sound sleep and maybe a sweet dream of Lucy and me together again.

Lying there, I let my mind drift. I thought about how hard I had fought to win Lucy’s heart, how our first kiss felt, and how her mother had sent boys after me like some scene from an action movie. I remembered the day I got her letter stravelling was traveling abroad, and how I had sat in the street crying like a baby, not even caring that a car could crush me. I remembered swearing never to give my heart to any girl but Lucy.

And then the embarrassing memory slipped in—my first wet dream, three days after Lucy left for London. I’d woken up thinking I’d wet the bed. My youth leader had always said such things were caused by evil spirits, so I ran to him for “special prayers.” It was only later that I read it was part of growing up. I smiled at the memory, then slowly drifted off to sleep.

Morning came. The first thing I did was check under my pillow for the letter I’d written the night before. It was gone. My heart skipped. I flipped through every book on my bed page by page. Nothing. I dropped to my knees, checked under the bed. Still nothing. Panic bubbled up in my chest. Who could have taken it?

I opened my bag to at least hold Lucy’s letter for comfort—but that was gone too. My heart stopped. Someone was clearly on a mission to hurt me.

That whole morning, I was restless. My mind ran in circles. What if those letters were in the wrong hands? Should I report it? Pretend nothing happened? Write another? But even if I did, how would I get Lucy’s address again? The questions kept piling like a storm inside my head.

When I finally got to class, before lessons even began, I overheard two students talking about Mike. They stopped as soon as I entered. Others were whispering too. I wanted to ask, but I kept quiet. If it was about mewere’d find out soon enough.

A few minutes into the lesson, the Senior Housemaster entered. In his left hand were two canes. My stomach twisted. What had I done to deserve this summons? Was it Mike? My missing letters? Something worse? Could this be the danger Jake’s prayer group had “revealed” to me? I remembered I hadn’t even read my Bible or prayed that morning because I’d been searching for the letters.

But it was too late to pray now. I followed him to his office. As soon as we entered, he reached into a file on his desk and pulled out two sheets of paper. My heart nearly stopped—they looked exactly like my missing letters.

Not This Time, Love Pt 14

When I finished reading the letter, I felt a kind of happiness I hadn’t expected. I didn’t know Lucy still thought about me. I’d convinced myself she’d moved on. I didn’t realise that in matters of the heart, distance hardly mattered. In that moment I understood how important it is to find someone who loves you back.

I couldn’t stop reading. I read the letter over and over until it was time for dinner. I didn’t want to eat, but my stomach won. I folded the letter into my pocket, grabbed my cutlery and bowl, and went to the dining hall. The food wasn’t ready yet, so as we waited I pulled the letter out and read it again.

I didn’t notice one of my roommates had come up behind me and was reading over my shoulder. All I heard was, “Ei KD, so you’ve started getting love letters?” I turned — it was Samy. I shoved the letter back into my pocket and he went away. I thought that was the end of it, but I was wrong.

Right after dining he came running back and pressed me for the author. I ignored him, but he kept at it. Then, as he walked off, he tossed over his shoulder, “Now that you’ve got a love letter, I hope you’ll stop coming to our class.”

“Hey, what are you talking about? Have you seen me in your class before?” I called after him.

“Oh yeah. I saw you there today, staring at one of our girls. If I see you near our class again, I’ll gather my boys and beat you up,” he said and marched to the dormitory.

This guy must be crazy, I thought. Threaten me over a girl whose name I don’t even know? He doesn’t know I’ve got a lover abroad. He doesn’t know she thinks about me every day. Does he think I’m joking? From now on, my hundred per cent commitment would be to Lucy and only Lucy. I’d cherish her and wait patiently.

I walked back to the dorm muttering to myself, probably loud enough for anyone to hear. The letter had me hooked—if just a letter could knock me off my feet, what would her being here do to me?

I rested a while, then packed my books for prep. I took the letter with me; it felt more precious than the Gh₵100 tucked with it. In class, I couldn’t focus. Lucy’s words kept crowding my head and I kept taking the letter out to read again. I wanted to show the letter to my friends, but that felt risky. I trusted almost no one. Jake was the only person I trusted a bit, but if I’d shown him he’d probably quote the Bible and tell me to run a mile from romance. So I kept it to myself — treasured it like jewellery.

By the end of prep, I had memorised the letter. On my way back, another science guy stopped me to ask if I was interested in a girl in their class. I was getting tired of all these questions. Why did everyone think I was a threat? Little did they know I’d got back my lost love. I wasn’t even interested in the nameless post office girl anymore.

Now I had a new problem: I had to reply to Lucy. But what should I write?

Not This Time, Love Pt 13

Fear gripped my whole body. I thought the little prayer I said that morning had already taken care of my troubles for the day, so why would God allow my name to be mentioned? I felt disappointed, but I followed the class prefect calmly to the headmaster’s office. I had wanted to ask him what the matter was, but once again, I didn’t have the courage. Fear had taken full control of me. I couldn’t think, and I couldn’t speak.

When we got to the entrance of the headmaster’s office, the class prefect turned back to the classroom, leaving me alone at the door. His excuse was that he was also afraid to enter, let alone face the headmaster himself.

I stood there for some minutes before knocking. The knock was so faint I could hardly hear it myself, but surprisingly, the headmaster heard it and ordered me to come in.

He was seated in a huge armchair behind a big table. His striped shirt was neatly ironed, with a flying tie that matched perfectly. He picked up his spectacles from the table and wore them, even before I had the chance to greet him and the seven others in the room. Yes, his office was spacious enough to hold all of us, but every chair was already occupied, so I remained standing.

Mike was sandwiched between the police officer and another man. Although the air conditioner was on, it couldn’t stop me from sweating profusely. My heart pounded as if I had just finished a 100-meter race with Usain Bolt. I knew I had been caught in the web of trouble, but who would save me? Silently, I kept praying in my head.

The headmaster told me to introduce myself and explain why I had come to his office. I did exactly that, then waited nervously for his next words.

“Your mother was here…” he began, then paused.

The moment I heard those words, my heart jumped into my mouth. My mum? So the school had called her without telling me? And she had already left? Had they judged me in absentia?

The headmaster’s voice pulled me back from my racing thoughts. “…Ermm, sorry. It’s your mother’s friend, rather. Auntie Lizzy—that’s her name. I hope you know her?”

My mind was blank. I couldn’t recall anyone by that name, but I was too scared to say no. So I said, “Yes.”

“I’m glad you know her,” he continued. “She says you were once in the same class with her daughter, Lucy. She was here to see you, but she had to rush off, so you couldn’t meet her. She left this envelope for you. Come for it, and go back to class.”

I stepped out of the office with the brown envelope in my right hand and heaved a huge sigh of relief. I thanked God and even jumped for joy on my way back to class. I had never felt so happy until that moment.

I wanted to know what was inside the envelope, but there was no convenient place to open it. I decided I would check it after school closed.

When I returned to my class, my mates were excited to see me. They were eager to know why the police officer had come to the school and why Mike was in handcuffs. They crowded around me as soon as I sat down, but I disappointed them. I told them I had gone to the headmaster’s office for a different reason, not because of Mike’s case. Some believed me, others didn’t.

Later, when I got to the boarding house, I finally took the brown envelope out of my bag and opened it. Inside were two white envelopes—one containing Gh₵100, and the other a letter.

The letter read:

Dear KD,

I don’t know why you don’t reply to my letters. I hope you are doing great in your new school. I want you to know that you’re special to me. You’re the only one I wouldn’t mind losing sleep for, because you cross my mind constantly throughout the day. I can’t explain with just words how much you mean to me, but you’re the only one I’m afraid of losing, and the one I want to keep in my life. I hope to hear from you soon. Take care of yourself, KD, because I’m taking care of myself for you.

Your love,

Lucy.

Not This Time, Love Pt 12

When I woke up that day, I felt relieved, re-energised, and more courageous to face whatever would come my way. As usual, I got up early, read my Bible, and said a short prayer afterwards. Then I went to the prefects’ room to polish the shoes of my school father, the senior boys’ prefect. Once that work was done, I took my bath, dressed up, and headed to the classroom to study.

I had not forgotten the words of the assistant headmaster: “Study like you are going to live forever.” Those words kept ringing in my ears as I bent over my books. Our wise folks say, “A hunter in pursuit of an elephant does not stop to throw stones at birds.” I was so eager to succeed academically that I didn’t want to involve myself in anything that could distract me from my studies.

Everything seemed to move smoothly that morning until I saw someone who looked like Mike. He wasn’t in his school uniform. He wasn’t alone. His face was downcast, his shoulders heavy. He walked with three adults—one in a police uniform, and the other two who looked like parents, maybe of Mike, or maybe of the girl who had been unconscious.

Mike was handcuffed, being pushed toward the headmaster’s office. Students rushed out of their classrooms to watch the scene, excitement written all over their faces. Many were happy that Mike was finally facing humiliation. Seeing him in handcuffs, I knew immediately he had done something terrible to the girl. My only prayer was that my name would not be mentioned in the case.

Almost every student had their own version of the story. Some said Mike had stolen something. Others claimed he had fought someone at home. A few whispered he had been caught smoking. Strangely, no one linked his arrest to the girl who had fainted in the classroom the previous day.

I kept wondering—was it really Mike I had seen with the girl, or had I dreamt it? Whatever the truth was, I prayed silently that my name would never come up. I promised myself that if I escaped this situation untouched, I would stay far away from Mike. Later, I even overheard a student say that Mike was a member of the occult group in the school.

The incident disrupted teaching and learning for the entire day. Mike, the police, and the two adults stayed long in the headmaster’s office. While they were inside, I took the opportunity to visit the nameless post office girl in her class.

Wait a minute—did you think I had forgotten about her? Hell no! Despite the troubles hovering around me, she was still safe in my heart and mind. I had not given up on her. She had become like the blood running through my veins. If I didn’t see her for a day, I became restless. I had fallen in love with her, even without her knowledge. I had fallen for her without even knowing her name. Call it love or call it madness—wait till you find yourself in my shoes before you judge me.

When I finally climbed up to the Science class, I saw the nameless post office girl sitting quietly, her eyes buried in a big Chemistry book. Most of the students were outside, leaving only a handful in the room. Suddenly, all the courage I had gathered to come and see her vanished.

I thought I had big balls between my thin legs to face her striking beauty, but the truth was, I couldn’t. I told myself it was better to keep imagining her, talking to her in my dreams, than to walk up to her and make a fool of myself.

While I stood outside, staring at her through the window, someone tapped my shoulder. I turned quickly—it was my class prefect.

“What are you doing here? You’re wanted by the headmaster,” he said.

Not This Time, Love Pt 11

I saw the girl lying on the floor unconscious, at the back of the classroom. My chest tightened. Her body looked so still that for a moment, I thought she was gone. I froze where I stood, unable to move. My throat felt dry, my palms sweaty.

I wasn’t alone. Four boys were already there, and Jake was among them. His eyes darted nervously from me to the girl.

“Ei, what’s going on here?” I asked, trying to sound bold, though my voice betrayed me.

“Relax,” Jake said quickly. “She just fainted. Let’s carry her outside before people start gathering.”

But his words didn’t settle me. My mind was racing—how did she end up here, alone, and in this state? And why was Jake and the others acting as if this was normal? I looked down at her face, pale and motionless. Was this really fainting? Or something worse?

“Are you sure she’s breathing?” I asked.

“Of course she is!” Jake snapped, too sharply for my liking. He bent down, pressing two fingers to her neck. “See? Pulse dey there. Let’s move before teachers come around.”

The other boys nodded in agreement, already reaching for her arms and legs. They moved too fast, too eager, and that made my stomach twist.

Something felt off.

I stood back, unsure. A part of me wanted to run for help, but another part whispered, if you involve yourself, your name will enter this matter—and you don’t want that.

So, I watched. I watched as Jake and the others lifted her like a sack of rice, struggling with her limp body, whispering things I couldn’t catch. They carried her out of the classroom, through the back door, where fewer people would see them.

I hesitated for a moment, then followed quietly.

The compound was almost empty at that hour, and their footsteps echoed unnaturally loud against the concrete floor. My heart pounded in my ears as I trailed behind.

At the far side of the block, they laid her gently under a neem tree, fanning her with a book. She remained still, her eyelids fluttering only slightly.

“She’ll be fine,” Jake muttered, his eyes avoiding mine. “She just needs fresh air.”

But I wasn’t convinced. Something about the way he said it, the way the boys exchanged uneasy glances, told me more was hidden here.

For a few seconds, I stood rooted to the ground, torn between wandking away and demanding thewalkingBut before I could speak, one of the boys hissed, “Charlie, let’s scatter. If teachers come see us here, trouble will start.”

Just like that, they abandoned her—leaving her slumped against the tree as if she were a bag no one wanted to claim.

I stared at Jake. “We can’t just leave her like this.”

He shrugged. “She’ll wake up. Don’t stress yourself.” Then he walked off with the others, not once looking back.

I lingered, my conscience battling my fear. Should I stay? Should I run for help? My feet felt glued to the ground. In the end, I forced myself to turn away, whispering a silent prayer under my breath.

That night, sleep wouldn’t come easily. The image of her motionless body haunted me, and Jake’s dismissive tone kept echoing in my mind.

When I finally closed my eyes, I promised myself one thing: tomorrow, I would find out the truth of what really happened to that girl.

Not This Time, Love Pt 10

When closing time came, I packed my books into my bag, slung it over my shoulder, and made my way to the assembly hall to meet Mike. My heart was pounding. What “good news” was he bringing? Had he already spoken to one of the girls without my consent? Was he about to parade all three of them before me? And if that happened, how on earth would I face them? I hadn’t even exchanged a single word with her since coming to school, and I wasn’t even sure she remembered me.

I waited. And waited. And waited. But Mike was nowhere to be found. My excitement slowly turned into irritation. Sick and tired of standing there like a lost puppy, I decided to head back to the boarding house and rest.

On my way, I caught sight of someone in a classroom who looked suspiciously like Mike. Curiosity pushed me to check. I stepped into the room—and froze.

There was Mike, at the back of the classroom, sitting on a girl’s lap.

The moment he saw me, he grinned. “Close the door and join us,” he said casually.

“Close the door… and join you?” I echoed, baffled.

First of all, I had no idea what nonsense he was pulling with that girl. Secondly, I wasn’t about to drag myself into trouble. My survival instincts screamed at me to run. “I’m going to the boarding house to rest,” I said quickly. Without another word, I stepped out, closed the door, and left them to their madness.

But my mind wouldn’t rest. What on earth was Mike doing with that girl? Were they…? No, that would be too extreme. Still, the risk of being caught was huge. Then another thought hit me like a slap: Who was that girl?

I hadn’t even seen her face. Could she be one of the three I’d spotted at assembly? Was that why Mike had warned me earlier? The nameless post office girl was among those three. Could she be the one Mike had been sitting on?

The thought made my chest tighten. I couldn’t bear the idea of losing her before I’d even had a chance. I needed to know.

So I went back and stood quietly outside the classroom, waiting for them to come out. That way, I could finally see the girl’s face.

While I was standing there, Jake appeared. Jake—the same guy who’d advised me on my first day to be careful with the people I associated with. He was a decent guy, but too holy for my liking. He was always inviting me to his prayer group, always talking about Jesus, judgment day, and things that honestly put more fear in me than comfort.

“Hey, KD. I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Jake said cheerfully. “I went to your class, then the dorm, but you weren’t there. We’re having special prayers for all the first years tonight. Would you be kind enough to join us?”

I opened my mouth to answer, but before I could say a word, a piercing scream echoed from inside the classroom.

The scream was so loud that it drew a crowd of students in seconds. My heart leapt. Without thinking, I shoved the door open with all my strength. The force sent me sprawling onto the floor. I scrambled up quickly—

—and what I saw in the room left me completely stunned.

Not This Time, Love Pt 9

As soon as the boy whispered those words in my ear, I panicked. I never knew the assistant headmaster had a daughter at the school. That was when it hit me—the deep mess I had dragged myself into. Fear gripped me so tightly I couldn’t even look in the direction of the three girls.

Then I noticed something. The boy who had whispered was giggling. A bad sign. My mind raced. Was he just playing games to scare me off my dream girl? I decided to test him.

“Which of those three is the assistant headmaster’s daughter?” I asked, forcing courage into my voice.

“Oh, come on, I was just kidding,” he smirked.

Just kidding? I swear, if I had the chance, I would’ve planted a blow right in his face and told him I was just kidding too. He had no idea what he’d just put me through. I stayed calm and looked away until assembly ended.

On my way to class, the same boy walked up to me again.

“I can help you get one of the girls… if you’re ready to pay.”

“Ah, who told you I’m interested in any of them?” I shot back.

He chuckled. “Oh, please. I wasn’t born yesterday. From the way you were staring, it’s either you’re interested in one, or you’re just nosy. Anyway, that’s what I do for fun. If you want one, just say it. I’ll hook you up, effortlessly. My name’s Mike. Business class.”

He walked away, leaving me staring after him. From that moment, I began to wonder: was I that transparent? Could people really look at my face and know exactly what was on my mind?

Later, during the first break—after finishing breakfast at the dining hall—I headed to the assistant headmaster’s office in high spirits. I was sure the news he’d give me would be good. If my transfer from General Arts to Science succeeded, I wouldn’t need Mike’s shady help. I’d find my own way to win the nameless post office girl.

The assistant headmaster was calmly reading the Daily Graphic when I entered. He gestured for me to sit. From a file on his desk, he pulled out the paper containing my answer to his Science question and handed it to me. I realised he hadn’t even marked it.

Before I could say anything, he spoke.

“I admire your courage, your passion, and your determination. Looking at your answer, although you got it correct, I’m still not convinced you can handle Science. It’s up to you to prove me wrong. This is what I’ll do: I’ll move you to the Science class, but not this term. You’ll go next term. Your transfer will depend on how well you perform in the first-term exam, especially in core Science. Do you understand?”

“Yes, please,” I replied quickly.

“Good. Now go back to your class and study hard as if there’s no tomorrow.”

I stood, thanked him, and left.

I had thought moving to the Science class would be easy, but reality slapped me. Our wise folks say, he who wants to move mountains tomorrow must first learn to carry stones today. If I wanted this, I had to study hard and take Science seriously.

During the second break, Mike found me again. His eyes were shining. “I’ve got very good news for you,” he said. “Meet me in front of the assembly hall.”

I wasn’t sure how “good” this news would be. But curiosity got the better of me, and I agreed to meet him.

Not This Time, Love Pt 8

At the dining hall, I couldn’t enjoy my food. I still hadn’t gotten over the fact that it was just a dream. I wished it had been real. The kenkey, hot pepper, and fried fish in front of me tasted like plain cardboard in my mouth. I pushed the plate aside, even though my stomach was growling.

After dining, I went straight to my bed. Alone, I replayed the dream in my head. If I’d known it wasn’t real, I wouldn’t have wasted time trying to kiss her gently. I would have grabbed her. I wouldn’t just have kissed her—I would’ve chewed off those sexy lips, run my hands all over her body. I would have… erm… done terrible, delicious things to her.

As I lay there, still haunted by the nameless post office girl, a Form One student appeared at my bed with a plate.

“The DHP says I should come for shito from you.”

I sat up. “Are you sure he mentioned my name?”

“Yes. He said KD—the nephew of the assistant headmaster.”

That last part hit me. I got off the bed, fished out my chop box key, and opened it. Scooping three spoons of shito onto his plate, I handed it over without another word. He left, but a few minutes later, another boy showed up.

“KD, the Senior Boys Prefect says I should come for milk from you.”

“Me? I don’t even think the SP has set eyes on me before. Why would he send you to me?”

The boy shrugged. “How should I know? If you want answers, go and ask him yourself. I’m only a messenger.”

Since prep time was close, I didn’t argue. I pulled out a tin of milk and gave it to him.

But when I sat for prep, I couldn’t read a line. Three “monsters” refused to let me focus.

The first was the dream of the post office girl—and how I could ever make it real.

The second was the seniors using me as their personal supermarket. Why me, and not the other form ones? I needed a plan, a very wicked plan, to stop them.

The last monster was the lie I had created—the “identity theft.” I’d once told a senior the assistant headmaster was my uncle, and now the whole school believed it. I didn’t even know how the rumor had spread so fast. But what if it reached the assistant headmaster himself? That thought alone gave me shivers.

The next morning, I woke up an hour before the bell. I used the time to read my Bible, pray, and think through the day. When it was time for work, the SP himself came to me.

“From today, you’re exempted from all the dirty work first years do. You’ll serve me instead.”

I froze. Was this good news or bad news? I wanted to ask exactly what “serving him” meant, but I swallowed my words and nodded. I just prayed he wouldn’t come every time he needed food.

He handed me his shoes. “Polish these for me.” Then he added casually, “I hear the assistant headmaster is your uncle.”

My heart skipped. Should I tell him the truth? What if the exemption was only because of that rumor? I hesitated, then lied. “Yes, he’s my uncle. In fact, he made sure I came to ADASS even though I’d gotten admission at Prempeh College.”

Later at morning assembly, fortune placed me right behind her. The girl. I wanted to speak, but she was deep in conversation with her friends. From the bits I caught, they were mocking how one of the teachers taught. I barely listened. My eyes were glued to her the whole time, unblinking.

I was drowning in her presence when a tap on my shoulder startled me.

A boy leaned close and whispered, “Don’t you dare go near that girl. She’s the assistant headmaster’s daughter. If you want to finish school in peace, stay far away from her.”