Watching Tayo go through my phone, I frowned.
This was the second time he was doing it— today, and it pissed me off. I almost lashed out—almost yelled.
But... Soon
I looked around the room we were in—my room.
It is warm but a little messy. The walls are painted a soft shade of purple, the kind that's meant to be calming, but right now, nothing about this moment feels calm.
"Here, take."
My phone landed on my lap, cutting short my sightseeing. I looked up.
"Are you satisfied?" I asked him.
He looked at me like I wasn't the one speaking.
Before he could reply, I added "Did you find what you've been looking for up and down on my phone?"
I was getting heated, and I had to control myself.
"Why can't you just trust me for once?" I said in a defeated tone, my elbows resting on my lap, my head buried in my hands.
I heard a chuckle, so I raised my head " What's funny? Did I say something funny? My God, Tayo, why are you treating me this way?"
" What? So I can't go through my girlfriend's phone again abi?" His voice rose with mock outrage.
"Are you hiding something? Hmmm? I've told before— na you no dey hear— you're my girlfriend and I have the right to know if you're cutting corners behind my back. I can't just be too lax with you." He added, his pride evident in all his words.
"Yes! Girlfriend! Not your fucking property! I wonder what you'd do if I was your wife." I snapped, the words burning in my throat.
He laughed—right in my face—and shrugged like I was being dramatic.
"Girlfriend, property... What's the difference?" He said with a smirk.
"You're still mine"
"The fuck?" I blinked. I couldn't believe my ear.
This wasn't the first time we were having this kind of argument,
but, it was the first time he'd say something like that.
"What? You didn't hear me well ni?" He scoffed, that mocking tone of his coating every word.
"I said there's no difference between property and girlfriend, abeg. You're mine."
He said it like he was correcting a child. Like I was the one not making sense.
God! What the fuck did I get myself into?
The thought echoed in my head like thunder.
It was like a veil had been lifted from my eyes, and there he was...
In all his manipulative, bastard glory.
"Hahaha" I laughed out loud— not because I was happy, but because the whole situation seemed so absurd, it was almost laughable.
" You know what?" I said, my voice steady.
"Kini?" He replied with a smirk.
"I'm done! So fucking done with you and your overbearing self."
"Hahaha!"
A loud, deep laugh erupted from him like I'd just cracked the joke of the century.
"Omo," he choked out between laughs.
"What?" I nearly screamed, irritated.
"You're funny oo," he said, still laughing.
"Funny? Funny? Funny?" I snapped.
"Do you see me laughing? Do you see me fucking laughing?"
I stood up, my chest heaving and my breath uneven.
"I am done with you, like I said. I'm tired of all this surveillance— this constant watching like I'm some criminal or your property."
God! This guy is mad! O ti ya were! I screamed in my head.
Omo, what blinded me into getting down with this useless human being?
It's not like he's giving me money or doing anything special; I'm the one sharing the little I have with him.
Ah! Omoteniola ode ni e oo!
What kind of love is this that turned me into a complete fool?
My heart was running, heart aching with regret and disbelief. I snapped out of it and looked up at him, staring at his whole 6'0 self and saw him scrolling through his phone like we hadn't just been arguing.
God! Was I pissed!
Imagine, the effrontery of this guy, sitting in my room, disrespecting me like I was beneath him.
"Get out," I said under my breath.
"What did you say?" he asked, raising his head, not sure he heard me clearly.
"Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. My. Apartment!" Ii screamed.
He was so startled by my outburst that he fell backwards on my bed, where he had been seated.
"Fuck, why you dey shout like this nah? Wetin dey worry you sef?" He asked, his eyes widened, clearly surprised by my outburst.
"Wetin dey do me? You no hear wetin I talk? I talk say make you get out. I no wan see you again, I no do again. This relationship don tire me," I affirmed, not backing down.
"If you no leave my apartment, I go shout 'thief' so loud the next building go hear me. Just try me. I dey give you five minutes."
"Okay, okay, I get it. You really mean this. I'll get out of your hair and let you breathe. No need to shout and drag people into this," he said, his voice cracking, clearly rattled by my threats. The boys in my area don't joke with thieves. They take action before asking questions.
"We'll talk later", he called out while walking towards my door.
The fact that he thinks I'm just being "in my feelings" and that I'll calm down later and we'll talk—it's both funny and annoying because it means he still doesn't take me seriously. But I said nothing, I just stayed quiet and watched him leave my apartment.
Finally, the quiet.
I dropped down on my bed, one hand on my head, rubbing my eyes compulsively to stop the tears threatening to escape.
I felt like all the energy had been completely drained from my body. It had taken every ounce of courage and backbone I had to stand up to him — and now it was taking its toll on me.
I straightened my back and wiped the tears that had escaped my eyes. A light slap to my cheeks followed.
"You shouldn't be crying and stressing over someone like that. You're Omoteniola—act like her."
So, with that little pep talk, I stood up and started tidying up the mess—not really cleaning, more like shoving things around and trying to make the room look less chaotic. Clothes were strewn everywhere, and notebooks and papers were scattered on my desk. The purple walls seemed to close in on me, but I forced myself to focus on small tasks—folding a shirt here, stacking a few books there—anything to keep my mind from spinning.
An hour turned into two, and before I knew it, the exhaustion hit me hard. My eyelids grew heavy, and the mess around me blurred into a dull haze. The weight of everything—from the fight and the tears to the silent room—finally caught up. Sleep crept in quietly, pulling me under its quiet embrace.
I woke up feeling off—like I'd slept in the wrong position, my neck stiff and my body sore. For a moment, my mind was foggy, trying to piece together where I was and what time it was. The shadows of the room felt heavy, the soft purple walls closing in.
Confusion twisted inside me. Had I really slept at all? My eyelids fluttered open, but the tiredness clung like a thick blanket.
Then, it all came rushing back—the fight, his words, the suffocating weight of the night.
I lay there, heart pounding, the memory like a punch in my gut.
How did I let it get this bad? How did I become someone who let a man treat her like property?
I turned my head, avoiding the sunlight creeping through the curtains, and swallowed hard.
Tayo—the way he controlled me, the way he laughed off my pain—it wasn't just about him. It was me too. I had allowed it. I had made excuses, ignored the signs, and convinced myself it was love when it was something far darker.
Was I scared? Of being alone? Of losing what little I had?
The thoughts spiralled, endless and suffocating. Like I was trapped in a cage of my own making, and every door I tried to open slammed shut.
But beneath the ache, a small spark flickered—a whisper of something stronger than fear.
Maybe this was the beginning of breaking free.
My eyes landed on my phone lying on the bed. The screen glowed with a message from Tayo. I stared at it for a moment, a tired sigh escaping me, then let the phone fall back onto the bed.
I forced myself to sit up, the stiffness in my body a sharp reminder of how restless the night had been. I stood slowly, swung my legs off the bed, and shuffled toward the bathroom.
The cold water hit my skin like a wake-up call, washing away some of the heaviness, but not the thoughts swirling in my head. I kept replaying last night's fight, the way he treated me, the bitterness lingering in my chest.
After a quick shower, I dressed and grabbed my bag. My school, Unilag wasn't far from my apartment in Akoka, and class waited—whether I was ready or not.
Stepping onto campus, the hum of students, the chatter, and the buzz of campus life tried to pull me in. I was known for being sharp—always pushing for excellence, especially in my final year project.
Today, I had a meeting with my supervisor, Dr. Ajayi, to discuss my project proposal. I was determined to keep my head in the game, despite the chaos at home.
"Omoteniola," Dr. Ajayi greeted me warmly as I entered her office. "Ready to impress?"
I smiled faintly, grateful for her unwavering faith. "Always, ma."
We dove deep into my project—a study on media representation and social identity. I explained my approach, the questions I wanted to explore, and the data I planned to gather.
She nodded approvingly. "You have a strong vision. Just remember to keep it grounded in reality."
Reality. That word hit differently.
Because beneath all the academic glory and accolades, there was the other side—the side no one saw.
The side where finances were tight, where every textbook was a question mark, every lab fee a burden.
Sometimes, I had to choose between buying food and paying for printing. I stretched my little earnings from part-time jobs and whatever little my family could send.
But I never let that show.
Because showing weakness meant giving them an excuse to doubt me.
Unilag was my battleground—and my sanctuary.
As I left Dr. Ajayi's office, I steeled myself for the day ahead. No matter what, I would fight. For my dreams, for my dignity, for myself.
I closed Dr. Ajayi's office door behind me and blinked against the sudden assault of blinding sunlight hitting my eyes. The sharp glare made my head ache.
"Oh God," I whimpered, shielding my eyes with my hand from the scorching sun.
Omo, it's God who will help me punish Tayo, I thought bitterly. If not for him, I would've had a good night's sleep — and not forgotten my sunshades at home in my absent-mindedness.
As I started leaving the building, the earlier conversation with Dr. Ajayi flashed through my mind. It reminded me again how much heavier my real-life problems were than Tayo's betrayal and control. I needed money for my projects, my house rent was four months behind, and I still had personal things I needed to buy. The money my parents sent barely covered assignments and food.
May God help me.
The echo of my footsteps faded as I descended the stairs, wondering how quickly I could find a solution to my financial mess without having to beg the landlords.
Outside, the air smelled like warm dust and shawarma sizzling on grills. The scent made my stomach grumble. I'd been out of it this morning, skipping breakfast, and now hunger hit hard.
"Teni baby!" a familiar voice called out.
I didn't need to turn to know who it was. Only one person called me "Teni baby" with such volume and sunshine — annoying as it was, I secretly loved it.
"Sandy," I sighed, turning with a fake frown. A laugh almost escaped, but I caught it.
Sandra — or Sandy for short — strutted towards me wearing baggy trousers and a cropped hoodie with "Confident Boss Bitch" printed boldly on it. Her signature cornrows twisted in an intricate pattern. In one hand, she held a takeaway bowl of spaghetti and turkey; in the other, two cold bottles of Pepsi.
"What's up? Why are you just standing there all alone looking so down?" she asked, stepping closer.
"Nothing, oo. I just came from my supervisor's office," I said with a tired smile. "We talked about my final year project — it's about how media shapes people's sense of identity and belonging. It sounds interesting, but sometimes it feels like too much, you know? Like there's so much to do and not enough resources."
"Me too. I've been avoiding going to my supervisor lately—argh, I can't even imagine the stress. Sometimes I just wish I could sleep through it all and wake up with everything done," she complained, rubbing her temples.
I smiled sympathetically. "Yeah, I get it. But before you know it, we'll be done and free from all this pressure. Just gotta keep pushing."
Trying to lighten the mood, I pointed at her hands. "Shey nah this food we go chop?" I asked, smiling teasingly.
"No!" she shot back, matching my tone.
"This food is for me and me only. You better go find your own," she added, pretending to be serious.
"Ehn ehn, so the two Pepsis are just for you too?" I teased.
"So if I call your mummy right now, she'll say the same thing? That none of this is for me?" I raised my eyebrows, playing along.
Her face changed at the mention of her mum, and I couldn't hold it in—I burst out laughing. Sandra's mum is an interesting woman. She's like a typical Nigerian mother but with a chill side. She doesn't take nonsense, but she's the sweetest person ever and absolutely adores me. Sandra pretends to hate it, but honestly, she can't complain because my mum loves her just the same.
"Ahn ahn, which one is 'you'll call my mum'? Egbami, see this girl o!" she said, laughing with me.
"You want her to break my head abi? I knew it! You this girl—no love for me, just here to steal my awesomeness," she added, grinning.
My laugh intensified, and I bent over with my hands on my knees, laughing hysterically. After a while, I started coughing, and my stomach grumbled loudly.
God, this girl will be the death of me.
"You better not kill yourself," she said, laughing lightly but with a hint of concern. "Let's go to Love Garden and eat—your stomach's making noise. Didn't you eat at home?"
"What did that jerk do now?" she asked, her voice sharp but worried. She dropped her hands to her hips and looked at me with genuine concern. "Teni, I've been telling you to get away from that self-absorbed, good-for-nothing guy, but you just don't listen. What happened this time?" Her tone was serious, full of care and frustration.
"Nothing new, just the same old routine—him obsessively checking my phone and trying to control me," I replied, shrugging, trying to act like it didn't affect me.
"God, that bas—" she started, but I cut in.
"But this time, I couldn't take it anymore. I ended things with him."
She froze for a moment, eyes wide, before bursting out, "…tard? Wait, what? You broke up with him?!" Her voice was a mix of shock and disbelief.
"Yes, I did. It was just too much, you know? I couldn't take it anymore. It felt like I was losing every piece of myself by staying with him," I finally burst out, tears flooding down my cheeks like a dam had broken.
"Oh, my dear, don't cry. You did the right thing, and I'm so proud of you right now," she whispered, pulling me into a tight, comforting hug, her own eyes glistening with tears.
I couldn't hold it back any longer. My body shook with deep, wrenching sobs—raw, painful gasps that caught in my throat—like all the hurt and loneliness I'd bottled up for so long was pouring out all at once.
Sandra held me tightly, rocking me gently as my sobs began to slow. After a few moments, she pulled back just enough to look into my eyes.
"You're not alone, Teni. Whatever happens, I'm here. You don't have to carry this weight by yourself."
Her words made something in my chest unclench. For so long, I had bottled everything inside — pretending it wasn't that bad, that I could handle it, that I didn't need to speak.
"I wasn't brave enough," I whispered, my voice raw. "I kept making excuses for him, telling myself he'd change. I didn't know how to explain it, or maybe... I just didn't want to admit I was letting someone treat me like that."
Sandra's eyes were full of empathy and quiet fury. "You didn't let him. He made choices — ugly, controlling ones. That's on him, not you. And speaking up now? That's courage. That's you taking your power back."
I looked away, wiping my nose with the sleeve of my shirt. "I used to wonder if maybe I was the problem... like maybe I was too sensitive, too emotional."
"No, Teni. You were just human. And he took advantage of your softness. But that doesn't make you weak — it makes you kind. And now, it makes you free."
The sun was still scorching, the air buzzing with noise and heat, but something inside me had shifted — like I'd finally taken the first breath after being underwater too long.
Sandra smiled softly. "Come on. Let's eat, cry some more if we need to, and then start figuring out what's next. You're not alone in this."
I nodded, still trembling, but for the first time in a long while, I felt something close to relief.
My phone buzzed the screen lighting up with a message. I tried to ignore it, but when the name Tayo appeared, my expression shifted—tightening, almost like a shadow crossed over me.
Sandra caught it immediately. She leaned in, eyes narrowing with concern. "Hey, what's up? What's that?"
I quickly tucked my phone away, forcing a calm smile. "Nothing. Just some random messages."
But Sandra wasn't fooled. She reached over gently and swiped the screen to peek. Her eyes landed on Tayo's name, and she sighed deeply. "It's him, isn't it? Why are you still letting him text you? You should've blocked him the moment that mess happened."
I shrugged, the weight of it settling in my chest. "I don't know… Out of sight, out of mind, right? I just delete the notifications and try to forget."
Sandra shook her head, her voice soft but firm. "You deserve better, Teni. It's time to truly move on — block him for good. No more letting him have that power."
I nodded slowly, realizing she was right. Maybe it was finally time to close that chapter for real. So, I picked up my phone and did as she had said and blocked him.
By the time we finished eating, the clock read 12 noon. Sandra checked her phone and stretched.
"I'm done with my only class today. Got some plans later, so I'll have to bounce soon."
I glanced at my watch and sighed.
"My only class today is at 12:30, so we better head out if I don't want to be late."
She smiled warmly and slung her bag over her shoulder.
"Alright, let's go. But we definitely need to catch up again soon—maybe this weekend?"
I smiled back, feeling a little lighter than before.
"Yeah, I'd like that. Thanks for being here, Sandy."
As we walked side by side towards our respective destinations, I felt grateful for moments like these—when even the heaviest thoughts felt a little more bearable.