This Thing Called Love

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This Thing Called Love #6

FOR A COUPLE of weeks I couldn’t eat or sleep properly. Certainly, I was astounded by the unexpected turn of events. Is this real – or am I trapped in some demented nightmare? I wondered, severally. Before this time I’d often wondered how it felt to be heartbroken by a loved one. Now I knew firsthand. I felt like my heart was in fragments – a million and one fragments. Most of the time I was restless; and there were times I cried, bitterly. My world had been turned topsy-turvy. Once or twice I even contemplated suicide. How could Rachael do this to me? Why did Rachael do this to me? I thought repeatedly. An expression I once read in a magazine flashed constantly through my mind. It read: sometimes the good guys get the bad girls while the bad guys get the good girls. The former rang true in…

This Thing Called Love #5

MY SECOND AND final semester examinations were, finally, over. Thank goodness! I was certain I would finish with a good first class honours. Like most final year students it felt great to know that, at last, I was free from the academic shackles of my first degree. However, I knew, in some ways, I was going to really miss UNILAG.  No more student politics. No more meals at any of the cafeterias. No more frequent lagoon front visits. Moreover, I was going to miss the school because I had no intention of returning for my Masters Degree program – or any other program for that matter. My eyes were set elsewhere – on a renowned foreign university. After the second semester exams the students, staying in the various hostels, were required to vacate them and head for their respective homes – wherever they were. School was going on a long…

This Thing Called Love #4

IN MY FIFTH and final year I became the General Secretary of the National Association of Quantity Surveying Students (NAQSS), UNILAG Chapter. For a fairly long while some of the students in my department were quite unhappy with me. They, like their colleagues, had wanted me as the NAQSS President, which was the post I was initially gunning for during the election campaigning process. But due to certain political interests I had to step down for the guy who eventually emerged as the President. He was the then HOD’s mannequin. What my fellow students simply knew was that I had stepped down for someone they didn’t want…someone they didn’t like…someone who wasn’t academically on par with me. But what they didn’t know was why I had actually done that. I gave them what I considered to be the simplest excuse: I was no longer interested in becoming the Association’s President…

This Thing Called Love #3

Read previous episodes here RACHAEL AND I were in love, crazily in love, with each other. It was pure bliss. I was residing on cloud nine, sharing my life and aspirations with the girl of my dreams – or so it seemed. From the moment we actually became a couple I assumed full responsibility for her. You see, I was raised with the notion that a real man ought to treat his woman with utmost respect, handle her delicately, and take great care of her – meeting her every need, as humanly possible as he could. My father perfectly modelled this concept. What better example did I need? None! So, with this view firmly tucked in the recesses of my mind, I paid for Rachael’s campus accommodation because she lived quite a distance from UNILAG. I regularly bought her gift items such as clothes, bags, shoes, jewelleries, and other related…

This Thing Called Love #2

Read The Previous Episode TEACHING IS AN integral part of who I am. It’s an endeavour that was hard-wired into me right from above. Almost nothing gives me pleasure like impacting knowledge to other people. I started teaching when I was in primary four. However, I began earning some money from it when I got to senior secondary two. I worked, part time, for a Home Tutor Agency…teaching various subjects at both the primary and secondary school levels; and I continued with the job while I was at the University of Lagos studying Quantity Surveying. I met Rachael for the very first time during a teaching session. That particular morning, which turned out to be a lecture-free day for me and my course mates, I had gone to teach the fresh students in my department. I was in my fourth year at this time. These freshmen, who had just tasted…

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