“That’s quite a catch you’ve got there.” I recognize the voice as his friend who couldn’t keep his eyes off me when we were hanging out on the patio. He uses the f-word often and I wonder how and why Remi could move with someone so filthy and perverse.
I evidenced there and then how birds of the same feather flocked together.
“So, how good is she?”
“Uh.. well you won’t believe this, but she’s one of those ones.” There’s an emphasis on those ones that make me go still.
“Wait… what? You mean she’s never.. are you serious?”
“Yeah, shocker right? I wasn’t expecting it to be honest but it actually makes the chase exciting. I like the challenge. We haven’t done it yet, but soon.” Remi scoffs and I feel a cold chill go down my spine.
This feels like a nightmare I want to wake up from.
“Wow. That’s rare these days. Is she for keeps?”
“Well, that depends on her potential after we have sex.”
“Master, na you now. I’m sure with a little tug, she’ll be eating from your palms.”
“I know right?” Remi laughs. “I mean you could always swoop in as the savior friend when we break up. She go don learn work well so e fit easy for you.”
“Guy! You no well.” His friend snickers.
“You sef know how these girls they do now. Give them a little appetizer and they stay begging for more. I can’t help it when women can’t resist me. As for this one, she still dey form for me, but she go mellow soon once I show am how the thing dey go.”
"Mr. Endowed!" The sound of running water from the faucet and the clinking of hands being washed echo in my ears. "When you finally succeed in having sex with her, don’t forget to spill the beans."
"Of course. Besides, the other guys will keep harassing me if I don’t spill."
I instinctively cover my mouth, unsure if it's to stifle my shock or prevent more sobs from escaping. If I lose control, I might rush out and confront him right then and there.
Their laughter fades as they leave together, and I don't realize when the tears start streaming down my face. All I want is to be back home, cocooned in my pillow, where I can cry without restraint. My resolve has crumbled, and I want to break down in front of someone who can offer comfort.
To make matters worse, my bag is with Remi. If I summon the courage and strength, I could go get it and use it to give him a piece of my mind by smacking his face with it. As for his friend, I'd take some satisfaction in watching him choke on his beer or even drown in it.
But deep down, I know this is partly my fault. Remi is not a Christian. I had deceived myself into thinking he was, constructing a false image of him. He's far from being saved, and I had allowed him into my life. Thankfully, I still retain a shard of my dignity and self-respect. I shudder to think what would have happened if I'd succumbed to temptation despite Feyi's and God's advice.
Self-loathing creeps in as I see my insecurities laid bare, ready to compromise for the fleeting attention a mere crush offered me. Remi doesn't love me, and I've been deluding myself, getting caught up in unhealthy emotions that I should have let go of long ago.
I approach a lady at the reception, desperately requesting to use her phone, and she obliges. It seems God is on my side today. The pity in her eyes reflects how pitiful I must look.
With trembling hands, I dial the only number I've memorized besides my own.
"Hello?" Her familiar voice breathes life into me.
"Feyi..." I mumble. "It's Moyo."
She falls silent for a moment, and I wonder what she's thinking. Perhaps she's grown familiar with the needy tone in my voice over the years, because all she says is, "I'm coming home."
"I'm n-not at home," I stammer, my tears threatening to surface again. I feel like I'm intruding on her married life, yet here I am, calling like a lost child in need of her mother.
"Where are you?"
I provide the name of the resort, and Feyi doesn't press for more details. She seems to know every corner of Lagos.
"Please come quickly; I'm not strong enough to stay out that long."
Feyi offers comforting words before ending the call.
She arrives shortly after, and despite knowing I shouldn't, I can't help but feel disappointed that Remi never checked on me during my absence. Perhaps he had tried, but my phone and bag were with him. The lady at the reception kindly allowed me to wait in one of their vacant rooms, and I prayed that the floor would swallow me up before Feyi's arrival.
The only thing I can do when my sister arrives is hug her fiercely as tears flow freely once more. We stay like that for a while before she releases me and looks into my eyes. She cradles my face in her hands.
"You look like one of those celebrities who had a bad day on stage," she remarks.
Amidst my tears, I laugh. That's Feyi; she knows how to lighten the mood.
"Where's your bag?" she asks.
"I left it with Remi."
"I caught a glimpse of the peacock when I was heading to the restroom. I never knew he had grown horns." She winks at me. "You're coming with me. I'll get your bag, and we'll walk right out of here, and there's nothing he can do about it. Okay?"
I nod as she takes my hand, and we head toward Remi and my bag.
Remi stands up immediately upon seeing us, confusion etched across his face.
"Babe, I've been looking for you. What happened to you?"
I glance at his friend, who wears a slight frown. It's clear he's surprised by my disheveled appearance. The other women around us are probably wondering what's going on.
Feyi takes charge of the situation.
"Moyo's bag." She doesn't need to explain further; she reaches for my bag, which I had left on a chair an hour ago.
"Baby... what's going on?" Remi asks, looking perplexed.
"She has a phobia for men like you." Feyi flashes him her sweet smile. "I don't need to explain the symptoms because, as you can see quite clearly, it's written all over her face."
"And you are?" He raises an eyebrow, probably wondering who she is.
"Her one and only sister... nice to meet you."
With that, we head to Feyi's car and drive away.
Man! I can't express how relieved I feel. I'm like a bird freed from its cage, ready to spread its wings and soar. Nelly Furtado's song softly plays in my head:
I'm like a bird, I only fly away.
The difference between Nelly's song and my reality is that I know where my home is, and I know where my soul belongs.
It's time for redemption.
****
Dear Diary,
I've been experiencing withdrawal symptoms, and it seems that only Feyi understands the turmoil I'm going through. Maybe you do too. I've reached a point where I can't hide anything from her any longer.
Remi won't stop calling, and all I can do is ignore his calls, haunted by memories of how our relationship began and how it eventually unraveled. Feyi stayed with me for a week before returning home. I confided in her, and to my immense relief, she didn't judge me. I've been judging myself ever since.
Feyi continues to support me in every way she can, even after leaving. Her messages and calls are a constant source of comfort.
I don't know if you've ever experienced the feeling of breaking up with someone. Well, you're just a journal, so you wouldn't know beyond what I share with you.
God has been merciful to me during this challenging time. I'm trying to seek His guidance and resist the pull of my own desires. It's a struggle, and I've never felt so vulnerable.
Whenever I remember my first kiss with a frog (like Remi) or, modestly put, the wrong person, I cringe. The odd sensation of his hands over my skin still creeps me out. I also vividly remember the conversation that shattered my illusions about him and made me question our relationship in the first place.
He looked like a confused child and if not for Feyi, I might have fallen for him and cried asking him to tell me what I’d heard in the restroom was only a lie.
I sigh and close the diary. It’s my lunch hour so I get the chance to share pieces of my heart with my diary before stepping out for lunch.
Dad's snow crystal ball, a Christmas gift, sits on my table, a reminder of when he used to be here during tough times before he got the opportunity to practice abroad. We struggled for a while, surviving on Garri, until things improved, and we moved into our house in Surulere. It marked the beginning of better days for us. Although I rarely see Dad now, he always sends updates, expressing his love and growing relationship with Jesus.
I yearn for a similar spiritual awakening.
Lately, I’ve been putting all my energy into work, ignoring the aggressive insults I receive from the Consultant I’m currently working with at the hospital. I’m glad it gives me less time to think of Remi, but it doesn’t keep him from coming to my place of work. I often find this embarrassing and as a result, I’ve been forced to meet him in his car during my one-hour lunch break today.
Looking at him, I fail to see that beautiful, perfectly molded man I’d always seen before we started dating. All I can see is some guy with invisible horns and I’m desperate to leave him but he’s so damn persistent.
I know I’m not experienced with men and since he’s my first, I don’t have relationship radar to detect his actions but why do most endowed men or whatever stupid name they give themselves have issues with women dumping them?
Do they actually think they are too good or handsome or rare to find and they are the ones going to do the dumping?
Or as I heard him say, pass me over to his ‘savior’ friend when he’s done with me?
I am grateful I overheard that conversation myself or not in a million years would I have believed it if someone had told me. I’d created an idea of him in my head and refused to see him for who he really was.
I guess God has a way of doing His things.
“Well?”
“You’ve not picked my calls for a week now.” He’s looking at me like I have no right to refuse his call.
“Because I don’t feel like it.”
“You’ve still not explained what happened last week, I mean seriously Lori…”
I want to run and I reach for the door to escape. I really don’t know if it’s an impulsive thing to run from confrontation but he reaches for me and turns me to face him.
“You’re not going anywhere, Lori.”
“Why not?”
“Your sister’s not here now and you are not leaving this place until you say everything that happened immediately after you left for the restroom that Saturday, do you understand me?”
“You don’t love me, Remi,” I blurt out and blink back tears, “You never did. We were never on the path to something serious.”
He raises an eyebrow and frowns. “Why didn’t you tell me you wanted something serious? You were the one hesitating to have sex with me.”
Oh, bummer! The guy was more stupid than I thought.
I finally tell him the truth. Although the probability of my words sounding ridiculous to him was high, I risk it anyway. “I had a crush on you and I thought it was love. I felt it could lead to something, something beyond sex.”
“Well, I don’t see anything wrong with that. I mean, it can lead to something. Sometimes, I mean statistically.”
“I don’t live on statistics Remi. I live by faith in God and I just want out.”
“And so you’re telling me God wants you to leave the relationship?” His question is full of taunting mockery and deep inside, I realize I did wrong by even saying yes to him the first time and I had also displeased God.
“And I don't want to have sex with you," I assert, finally meeting his eyes head-on.
It seems to shock him; his eyes widen, and he regards me as if I've lost my mind.
Omg! Was this how low he thought of me? I feel ashamed for not taking a stand for what I believed in. This is the first time I would be bringing God into any conversation with him. No wonder he thought it was okay to include me in his list of past girlfriends he’d conquered.
I know I'll carry guilt for my past mistakes, but I pray to God to work something out for me now.
He turns his gaze to the windshield, sighing and shaking his head slightly. "Fine, I'm sorry," he says, struggling to form the words. "If I've done something wrong or said something to deserve this silence, I apologize. We can work through this. Let's chalk it up to our first fight."
He turns back to me, reaching out for my face. On reflex, I pull away, and he notices but doesn't push further. He withdraws his hands, sighing once more. "I won't force you into anything. This is just a minor misunderstanding. You didn't need to involve God in this situation."
"Well, my mistake was not involving Him from the beginning," I murmur, staring at my clammy palms in the cool car.
"Fine, we'll involve Him in our relationship, whatever you want," he says, spreading his hands, expecting my agreement.
I turn my face to the window trying to stay calm. It’s quite difficult for me to believe that this guy whom I’d overheard making fun of me with his friend is the same one wanting me like I’m the only thing that matters to him.
He should be an actor. I remember that was the same thing I thought the first day I met him, but obviously in a different context.
“Are you a Christian?”
“Sure, born again.”
I hold back my retort and shake my head. Who am I to judge anyway when I haven’t been living like one myself?
I don't want someone who will begrudgingly accept my passion for God or be irritated by my spiritual devotion when things get serious. I desire someone who appreciates the importance of my faith journey and wants to take the step with me.
And from the look of things, I doubt this dude wants something serious. To him, I’m probably just a plaything and like he says, if his statistics prove right, we could head to something.
After sex.
How foolish I was to think we were in love.
This is reality, not some Hollywood thing. This isn’t dependent on some dice, numbers, or chance but on God. I’m coming to realize this a lot lately.
We’ve been together for about 5 months, and I’m glad it didn’t extend beyond that. The fire of passion that engulfed us when the relationship started was dying down and of course, I should have known that it would never be enough to sustain our relationship. What would he do to me in moments of temptation? Use me? Then discard me like trash and boast to his friends about it?
“Look, I got you something…”
“I understand what you’re trying to do Remi.’ I half-consciously reply but he’s already reaching for something in his backseat.
I know I have to stop him now before he goes further. I can’t do this anymore. My flesh desperately wants to cling to him and give him everything ignoring all the negative signs but there’s a little gentle push in my heart to walk away and run to God, and leave everything to Him without looking back.
Right now, I’m so torn between the two and I know if he tries touching me again, I have doubts I’ll be strong enough to resist him.
A kindle of hope within assures me that God has just granted me strength.
“You don’t have what I want Remi.”
“What do you want?”He looks confused.
“I want everything.”
He scoffs. “Well, I can’t be your everything.”
I smile and shake my head. “You’re right, you can’t be my everything, only God can.”
And with that, I am bold enough to step out of his car and walk back to the hospital, no tears shed, no regrets.
He stops calling me again after that.
Dear Diary
It was easy for me to profess God as my everything, and then act totally opposite under little pressure. Maybe I had the Remi addiction deep in my blood and because it wasn’t yet evacuated, I started doing the opposite of what I was so bold to declare. Then I remembered Jesus was more interested in actions than in words.
Maybe Jesus was referring to me in Matthew 15 verse 8 where He said: “These people draw near to me with their lips but their heart is so far from me.”
God is really so merciful. It's so easy to play judge and jury for ourselves when He doesn't condemn us.
“You’re right, you can’t be my everything, only God can.”
I literally smiled hard when I read this line from Dr. Moyo
Ah! Thank Jesus that our sis Moyo has been set free from the shackles of brother Remi. God is soo good!!!
Hallelujah 🙌🏻🙌🏻🙌🏻
Sister Itunu, I hope this isn’t the end of Moyo’s diary 👀 I want some more tea from her diary.