I cannot seem to identify the problem with me but I am hundred percent sure something is not quite right. It is getting so frustrating these days. I know what I am doing is not right. I am sure I going down the wrong path. I have been warned. The admonitions and warnings are all so familiar to me. Even I have passed on these nuggets of wisdom in the past to erring friends. I know my wrongs, yet I do them. Before I proceed, I will give you a brief run through of who I am.
I am Omolara Owolabi, a 23 year old who just finished her Masters in Information Technology with Management from Loughborough University. I am tall, dark skinned and slim. I’m not exactly Miss World and neither am I Princess Fiona from Shrek. I am just there, really, but with MAC on my side, wonders can take place.
The issue with me however is that I can’t seem to like the decent guys around me. Ok, please don’t pre-judge me. I am not a loose girl. Not in the least bit. I am a good Christian who loves God and wants so badly to do His will. The problem is that once I find out a guy likes me, I begin to lose interest. I prefer those that I have to run after. The ones whom I call but don’t pick and when it is about 12 midnight, they ring back. I can’t stand those who remember my birthdays and buy me flowers and chocolates. I prefer those who forget and even when told, don’t bother buying anything and when I ask, they complain that I’m being materialistic, a nag and overly fussy. When a guy is all nicey nicey, I think he is slow, boring and generally ‘dulling’. I prefer the ones whose phones I have to keep checking, in whom I have no trust. The ones who keep my heart racing, who give me no peace whatsoever. I know I am being hard on myself but I am so frustrated with all I have been doing and the decisions I have been making lately.
I have been so sad all day. So sombre. So ‘burnt’. All my fears regarding Deji have come to pass. Yesterday evening, Deji came visiting. He used my laptop to check his Facebook account. As soon as he finished with it, I took it off him to check mine. I then noticed that the web page said ‘Do you want Google Chrome to remember this password?’. I thought to myself, ‘no I don’t’. Another part of me argued, ‘of course you do’. After much internal debate, I fell. I saved his password and as soon as he left, I sat down over a cup of coffee and logged into his account.
Nothing on God’s green earth could have prepared me for what I saw. There were chat messages with three different girls. In all these messages, he denied being in a relationship. He was toasting one and apparently the other two girls were a done deal. I then proceeded to his inbox. There was nothing compromising at all. Until I saw his conversation with his friend Kolade. Kolade asked,
‘Guy how far…the job don click?’ I was puzzled so I checked his response to Kolade. ‘Omo e don click oh. The two of them sef. Those girls are fine!’ It was then I understood what ‘job’ stood for. Those girls were the jobs. The jobs ‘clicking’ implies that they had succumbed to his advances, where in terms of a normal relationship or simply to sleep with him, I don’t know. Only God knows if I too was one of the jobs of which Kolade asked with regards to sleeping with me.
Deji and I started our relationship in Covenant University in our final year. I found him way more appealing than Steve who was also asking me out then. Deji was fun. Steve was boring. Steve was very kind and good to me. Deji was usually quick to dismiss me and was never there for me. Yet, in him I found fun and excitement and for that reason I held on. Steve was in the choir and usually hung out in the Chapel. Deji, on the other hand, was always with his clique of friends in Bashan in the Cafeteria. Despite the fact that I was aware that I was not the only girl he was asking out, Deji could do no wrong in my eyes. I fell for him, hook, line, sinker. He had swag. Steve, however, was entirely swagless. He was not my type and I really could not bear to be engaged in conversation for too long with such a bore.
Eventually, I started dating Deji but since our relationship began, I have not known peace. He leaves me to pick his calls and when I ask why, he complains that I nag. He passworded his Blackberry after I saw some suspicious messages. Even if he wants to quickly nip into the loo, Deji must take both phones with him. On his BB, he ends all his chats so there is absolutely no way of knowing wassup with him. As you must know by now, the mere fact that I am interested in knowing ‘wassup’ with him is proof that I don’t trust him. I don’t trust him. Yet, I can’t leave him.
We started Masters together in the same university. I got admission into the best university in the UK for my course but because I didn’t want to be without him, I accepted Loughborough which is the one he was going to. It is not because I was going to miss him so much that I took that decision. No! It was because I didn’t want him to be by himself. I wanted the whole school to know he was taken. His status on Facebook says, ‘In a relationship’ but no matter how hard I asked, pleaded with and even begged him to connect it to my profile, he refused. So I made up my mind to make it clear to all with whom he was in a relationship.
I am not much of a party person, not in the least bit. But because of my resolve to hold on tight to my man, I had to go for countless parties. All through the night, I would hold his arms firmly, dance with him in ways that will make my mom cringe. I did this all in a bid to put my stamp of ownership on him. Yet, he only got worse. I heard of his trysts with girls all over England, from Manchester, to Birmingham, to London and even all the way in Dundee, Scotland. I ‘heard’ but I never had any proof. I didn’t want any proof either.
The worst of all is that Deji has started getting physical with me. The other day, I was having a conversation with a male friend on the phone and Deji was seated next to me on the couch in the flat he shared with his friend, Eddie. I was totally fed up with Deji’s dodginess so I decided to spur jealousy in him by being flirtatious on the phone. He had no idea who it was I was speaking to. But I was laughing and using my sexy voice. Before I could say ‘God is good’, he grabbed the phone from my hand, cut it and gave me a thunderous, ear deafening slap.
‘In your life, don’t try that kind of nonsense with me again!’, he roared.
I held my cheek in shock as the tears began to flow of their own accord. I was speechless. I wasn’t expecting him to be pleased with my phone conversation but I certainly was not expecting a slap. I got angry, screamed at him as I put my shoes on and picked my phone to call a cab. He shouted back, calling me a whore. The next minute, he was on his knees, begging me and saying,
‘Lara, I don’t know what came over me. I love you so much. I just can’t bear to see you with another man. Please baby, don’t go. I love you.’
As I listened to him, I knew he had me hooked. As soon as he noticed me softening, he smiled and said,
‘no matter what I do, you know you can’t leave me. You are mine and you can’t go anywhere’.
He then hugged me. I was cold for a minute but I eventually hugged him back, tightly too.
‘I really need divine intervention’, I think to myself as I now log on into my Facebook account. Could Deji be right afterall that I will never leave him? I love him so much and this has made me endure his behaviour for so long. I just can’t seem say, ‘ Otito! E don do!! Enough is enough!!!’
What is wrong with me?