By Chukwudi Anagbogu
In the bustling city of Lagos, Nigeria, life moves fast. Among the endless honking of cars, the vibrant chatter of market vendors, and the warm tropical breeze, lived a young woman named Amaka. At twenty-four, she was a soft-spoken, diligent student of Accounting at the University of Lagos. Life for her had been a steady rhythm of family, studies, and church. Amaka had always been the dutiful daughter—never one to step out of line, and she upheld her moral values with a deep-rooted sense of pride.
But like many young women her age, Amaka longed for something more. Though she was content with her life, a part of her wondered about love—the kind of love she read about in novels and heard about in songs. She had seen friends fall in love, sometimes stumbling and getting hurt, but other times finding happiness. Yet, she had always been cautious, holding her heart close and believing that love would find her when the time was right.
That time came when she met Jide.
Jide was a tall, charismatic man, with a smile that could light up a room and eyes that danced with mischief. He was a few years older than Amaka, working as a software developer for a tech company in Lagos. They met at a mutual friend's birthday party. Amaka had been sitting quietly, sipping on her drink, when Jide approached her with a charming, "Hello, beautiful."
Their conversation flowed effortlessly that night. Jide was attentive, asking her about her studies, her interests, and her dreams. Unlike the other men Amaka had encountered, who seemed only interested in surface-level flirtation, Jide appeared genuinely interested in getting to know her. By the end of the evening, Amaka found herself smiling more than she had in a long time. They exchanged numbers, and over the following weeks, their friendship blossomed.
Jide became a constant presence in Amaka's life. They texted every day, went on dates, and spent weekends exploring the city. He showered her with attention, making her feel seen and cherished in ways she had never experienced before. Amaka, for the first time, felt the stirrings of love deep in her heart. Jide seemed perfect—kind, ambitious, and attentive. He told her he loved her within a month of their relationship, and though Amaka had never been in a serious relationship before, she began to believe that maybe he was the one.
However, as their relationship progressed, Jide started dropping subtle hints about intimacy. Amaka had always been open with him about her commitment to remaining a virgin until marriage. Her faith and upbringing had instilled that value in her, and she had no intention of changing it. Jide, on the other hand, seemed to grow impatient.
"I love you, Amaka," he would say, holding her close after one of their romantic dates. "But love is about trust and giving yourself fully to the person you care about. Don’t you trust me?"
Amaka did trust him, but she also trusted herself and her values. She constantly reassured him that she loved him, but she wasn’t ready to compromise on her principles. However, as time passed, Jide’s pleas became more frequent, and his affection seemed to wane when she didn’t yield. He would sometimes grow distant, not returning her calls for days, or become moody during their outings.
The pressure weighed heavily on Amaka. She confided in her close friend, Ifeoma, about her struggles.
"Do you think I'm being too rigid?" Amaka asked one afternoon after church. "I love Jide, but I don’t want to lose him because of this. But I also don’t want to do something I’m not ready for."
Ifeoma, ever the wise friend, sighed. "Amaka, love is about respect. If Jide really loves you, he should respect your decision. Don’t let anyone pressure you into doing something you're uncomfortable with. Trust yourself."
But the doubts still gnawed at Amaka. As the weeks went by, Jide's persistence grew stronger. He began to hint that their relationship might not survive if they didn't take things to the "next level." He would say things like, "I’m a man, Amaka. I have needs," or, "We’ve been together for months now; don’t you want us to grow closer?"
Amaka struggled. She didn’t want to lose Jide, but she also didn’t want to betray her beliefs. Eventually, after much inner turmoil, she made a decision she would later regret.
It was a rainy Friday evening when Amaka finally gave in to Jide’s pressure. They were at his apartment, watching a movie, when he turned to her with a pleading look in his eyes.
"Amaka, I need you," he whispered, his voice filled with what seemed like genuine affection. "I’ve waited for so long. Let’s share this moment together."
Amaka hesitated, but the fear of losing him, combined with the weight of his persistence, wore her down. She told herself that maybe this was what love was—sacrifice, compromise, and giving in to the person you cared about. So, against her better judgment, she agreed.
The night was awkward and uncomfortable for Amaka. She felt a deep sense of unease the entire time, but she pushed it aside, convincing herself that this was what couples did. Afterward, Jide held her, but something felt different. The tenderness she had always associated with him felt absent. She dismissed it as her own nerves playing tricks on her.
The following days, however, revealed the heartbreaking truth. Jide, who had once been so attentive, suddenly became distant. He stopped calling her as frequently, and when they did speak, his tone was curt, as if she had become a burden. He made excuses for not seeing her, claiming he was busy with work. The warmth that had once defined their relationship evaporated, leaving Amaka feeling cold and confused.
She confronted him after a week of silence. "Jide, what’s happening? You’ve been avoiding me. Did I do something wrong?"
Jide sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Amaka, I don’t know if this is working anymore."
Amaka's heart dropped. "What do you mean? I thought we were doing fine. You said you loved me."
"I do love you," Jide replied, avoiding her gaze. "But things have changed. I need space to figure out what I really want."
Amaka couldn’t believe what she was hearing. After all the pressure he had put on her to be intimate, now he wanted space? Tears welled up in her eyes as the reality of the situation sank in. She had given him something precious, something she had held onto for so long, only for him to push her away afterward.
"Are you breaking up with me?" she asked, her voice trembling.
Jide shifted uncomfortably. "I think we need a break, Amaka. It’s not you, it’s me. I just need to focus on my career and my future right now. I don’t think I can be the man you need."
With those words, Jide walked out of her life, leaving Amaka devastated and heartbroken.
The weeks that followed were some of the darkest in Amaka’s life. She felt betrayed, used, and discarded. The man who had professed his love for her had taken advantage of her vulnerability and abandoned her the moment he got what he wanted. She couldn’t help but feel like a fool for believing in his words, for letting herself be swept up in the fantasy of love.
Her family and friends noticed the change in her. She became withdrawn, no longer the cheerful, bright-eyed woman she once was. Ifeoma, ever the loyal friend, stayed by her side, offering support and encouragement. But even Ifeoma’s kind words couldn’t erase the deep sense of loss that weighed on Amaka’s heart.
One Sunday after church, Amaka’s mother, a strong and devout woman, sat her down. "My daughter, I’ve noticed you’ve been distant lately. What’s going on?"
Amaka hesitated, not wanting to burden her mother with the pain she was carrying, but the weight of it was too heavy to bear alone. She told her mother everything—about Jide, about the pressure, and about how he had abandoned her after she had given in.
Her mother listened quietly, her expression a mixture of sadness and understanding. When Amaka finished, her mother took her hand gently.
"Amaka, you are not defined by one mistake," she said softly. "What happened with Jide does not diminish your worth. You are still the wonderful, strong woman I raised. Yes, it hurts now, but you will heal. Don’t let one man's actions make you feel less than what you are."
Amaka’s eyes filled with tears. Her mother’s words were like a balm to her wounded heart. She realized that while she had made a mistake, it didn’t define her. Jide’s abandonment, while painful, was a reflection of his character, not hers.
Over time, with the support of her family and friends, Amaka began to heal. She threw herself into her studies, graduated with honors, and eventually found a job at a reputable accounting firm in Lagos. She also reconnected with her faith, finding solace in her relationship with God.
As for Jide, he remained a distant memory—a lesson in the dangers of trusting too easily and the importance of standing firm in one’s beliefs. Amaka would never forget the pain he caused her, but she also learned that love, true love, would never demand what she wasn’t ready to give.
Nice piece
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