05/04/2025
I still remember how I used to walk down the streets of Lagos, my head held high, hips swaying like I owned the world. Back then, they used to say I was the most beautiful girl in Nigeria.
Everywhere I went, men would stop their cars — fine cars o! Benz, Jaguar, even one man came with a Rolls Royce once. Some would even block the road just to talk to me. They would wind down their glass and call out, “Fine girl, come now, let me talk to you!” But I just smiled and walked on.
I told myself I would only settle for a tall, handsome man. The kind of man that would make my heart race. And then one day, I met him. He was everything I dreamed of. Tall, dark, and so fine that people used to stare at us when we walked together. I fell hard, maybe too hard.
He didn’t have money, but I didn’t care. I even used my savings to rent a house for him. I bought him clothes, cooked for him, washed his things.
Then I got pregnant.
At first, he acted happy. He would rub my belly and talk to the baby inside. But soon, things changed. He started coming home late
It was just me and my baby girl. I cried for weeks. I thought he would come back, but he never did. I heard later he moved in with another woman. A richer one.
Now, my daughter is grown. She’s beautiful, just like I was. And sometimes, when she asks me why I never remarried, I just smile and say, “I’ve already lived a full life.”
But deep inside, I know I made a mistake. I gave my all to a man who didn’t deserve me. I chose love over sense. And in the end, I suffered for it.
If I could go back, I’d tell that young, pretty girl walking down the road — “Look well. Beauty fades, but pain stays longer than perfume.”
Igbo Guy
