Love and Heartbreak

Written by Olorunloba Adeniyi Chapter 1 – The Golden Beginning I was in my early twenties when I landed the kind of job most young men in Lagos could only dream of. I wasn’t just a regular instructor – I was the Head of the Special Training and Projects Department at one of the most prestigious computer training schools in Ikeja, affiliated with a renowned university in the West. Our certificates carried weight. The school halls bustled with students eager to learn BASIC, dBASE, and Lotus 1-2-3 – the foundational languages of the digital world back then. Life was sweet. Aside from my monthly salary, I was raking in serious money from student projects and private training sessions. Overtime bonuses padded my wallet, and for once, it felt like I had arrived. But instead of investing wisely, I chose to live loud. I wasn’t throwing money at women or parties – no. I just loved looking good. Fine suits. Fresh shoes. Branded colognes. I dressed like my next promotion was in fashion, not IT. It wasn’t long before students – especially the female ones – began noticing. A few of them flirted. Some dropped subtle hints. But one student in particular didn’t come to play games. Her name was Janet. I had just wrapped up a class on BASIC programming when she approached me with a strange request. “Can you please give me anything that belongs to you?” She smiled – that kind of smile that had too much meaning behind it. I blinked. “Something like what?” I asked, confused. “Anything. Your tie, your pen… just something personal.” I hesitated but unclipped the pen hanging on my suit pocket and handed it to her. She received it with the delight of a child who’d been given her first doll. Then came the real shocker. “Can I accompany you wherever you’re going today?” I wasn’t expecting that. Janet was drop-dead gorgeous – the kind of beauty that made other girls in class look twice. Guys buzzed around her like bees, but none seemed to get close. She had the air of someone who came from wealth, and she carried herself like a woman who always got what she wanted. I was flattered. I agreed. Chapter 2 – Janet: Beauty and the Secret Janet didn’t just walk into my life – she landed with the precision of someone who knew exactly what she wanted. After that first encounter, she followed me to my boss’s house on Airport Road, chatting freely like we had known each other for years. She eventually came with me to my place at Iyana Ipaja. To my surprise, she said she planned to spend the night. I should have questioned it, but how do you say no to a woman like Janet? She was elegance mixed with danger. Later that night, while lying in bed, she turned to me and whispered with a tone I couldn’t quite place. “If you don’t make love to me tonight, something bad will happen to me.” It wasn’t a request – it was a declaration. Her face had changed. There was no more playfulness in her eyes. Just something… dark. Before I could process it, she was on top of me. It felt like she took control of everything – of me. The whole thing was strange, almost surreal. Like a ritual, not romance. By 6 a.m. the next morning, she was fully dressed and ready to leave. “I just need to quickly go somewhere. I’ll come back later,” she said, like a housewife heading to the market. True to her words, she came back – late that night. And then she came again the next day… and the next. Without warning, Janet became a permanent fixture in my life. She never officially moved in, but she was always around. Cooking, sleeping, bathing. She had quietly taken over my space. Then came the truth. She wasn’t just Janet-the-student. She was Janet-from-Allen. The streets knew her. A high-end commercial sex worker. My heart didn’t want to believe it. But the signs were all there – her late nights, her money, the men who sometimes called her phone late into the night. Letting her go wasn’t easy. She didn’t want to leave. But slowly, and with a heavy heart, I pushed her away. I stopped seeing her in school. Just like that – she vanished, like mist in the early morning sun. I thought that chapter of my life was closed. But that was before Bisi. Chapter 3 – Bisi: The One I Didn’t Expect Bisi was different. Quiet, observant, always sitting in the front row of my classes. She had this way of looking at me like she knew my secrets, like she could see through the suits and the confidence. She started opening up about her life. Her battles. Her pain. Her past. I listened – sometimes without saying much — and gradually became her confidant. It didn’t take long for emotions to get involved. She wasn’t the type of woman I thought I’d fall for, but there was something grounding about her. We became inseparable. We moved from hotel to hotel, refusing to go home. I had the money, and we had no worries – or so it seemed. She introduced me to her family. Her mother, a caterer and devout Christian, adored me. Her father, a strict, grizzled lawyer living alone in Iju, warmed up to me. Bisi was the oldest of four. She carried that responsibility – and pain – like a second skin. Three months into our relationship, I quit my job. The management’s style no longer sat right with me. Some called it foolish. Maybe they were right. But back then, I felt invincible. Another company came calling – more money, fewer days. But I left again after two months. The environment didn’t feel right. I was jobless. And that’s when Bisi’s father fell mysteriously ill. Chapter 4 – The Fall The illness came without warning.

Written by Olorunloba Adeniyi Chapter 1 – A Star is Born The first time Sam stepped into the gates of Olódùmarè University, Osun State, the campus breeze blew like it had been expecting him. You know that kind of gentle breeze wey go just brush your face small like say, “Welcome o, our brilliant boy.” He wore an oversized white shirt, ironed to death by his mother in Lagos the night before he travelled, and trousers that barely held up without the help of a worn brown belt. His bag, a faded “GCE Success” backpack from secondary school, hung loosely on his shoulders. But what Sam carried most wasn’t his luggage – it was the fire in his eyes. “Na book carry me come here,” he’d often say with a grin whenever anyone asked. And that wasn’t a joke. The boy was hot. During the university’s matriculation ceremony, the Vice Chancellor had mentioned his name – “Samuel Olumide. Admitted with distinction. The highest JAMB and Post-UTME score in his department.” Students clapped, lecturers nodded. Some girls took mental notes. Roommates in his hostel quickly noticed he wasn’t just book-smart – he was street-smart too. A blend of brain and humble vibes. While others were still forming “big boy” and sagging jeans around campus, Sam would be in the library, then back to his room, helping three different people solve their MTH101 assignment like it was ABC. “Guy, abeg help me run this number,” they’d say. He’d laugh and say, “Na so una go dey carry last if una no sit down read.” He was from a modest home in the heart of Agege, Lagos. His father, Baba Shina, was a retired carpenter who now sold car mats at Ladipo Market. His mother sold pepper and smoked fish in front of their face-me-I-face-you compound. The day Sam got his admission letter, his mother cried like he had just won NairaBet. She told all the neighbours, even the ones wey no ask. “My pikin don get admission o! University of Osun! My God no dey sleep!” And truly, God hadn’t slept on Sam. In his 100 level, the boy broke records. First semester GP – 5.0. Second semester – 4.97. It was like his brain came from Silicon Valley. Even lecturers began calling him “Prof.” One of them, Dr. Alamu, would always say in class, “If Sam doesn’t answer this question, nobody should.” The class would burst into laughter, and Sam would shake his head, smiling shyly. But beneath all the brilliance, there was a kind of loneliness. He had friends, yes, but most people only came to him for help or notes. He had crushes, of course. But he was too focused to even notice when a girl was giving him “green light.” Until she walked in. That was the day his story began to change. Chapter 2 – When Sam Met Lola It started on a Tuesday. Sam had just left his departmental tutorial session where, as usual, he’d explained Organic Chemistry to a group of struggling classmates. His head was pounding. His shirt was soaked with sweat from the Osun sun, and his plan was simple: head to his hostel, eat the last two slices of bread he had left, and collapse on his bed. But life, as they say, had other plans. He first noticed the perfume. Something floral but expensive – like money had bathed inside the bottle before they sealed it. Then he saw her. She was standing by the Faculty of Science notice board, squinting at a long list of matric numbers. Tall. Skin like melted caramel. Hair braided neatly into a crown that glistened under the sun. She wore a simple black gown that hugged her softly and didn’t scream for attention, yet somehow, it was impossible not to stare. Sam paused, completely forgetting he was sweating like a ram after Ileya festival. She noticed him staring and turned. Their eyes met. And just like that… silence. Not the kind of awkward silence you get when NEPA takes light during a party. This one was golden. Soft. Electric. Sam cleared his throat. “Uh… hi.” “Hi,” she replied, smiling with small dimples that made his heart somersault. “You, uh… you dey find your result?” he asked, then winced. You dey find your result? That was what his genius brain could produce? But she laughed – not mockingly, but with amusement. “Yeah. It’s not even my department. Just helping a friend.” “Oh okay, okay,” he said, nodding too much. “I’m Sam.” “I know,” she said simply. He blinked. “You know?” “Yeah. You’re the genius everyone talks about. I’m in Biochemistry. Third year. Lola.” Lola. That was it. That name alone made something shift inside Sam’s chest. From that day, they started talking more. He’d bump into her “by accident” near the lecture theatres. She’d send him notes “for her friend.” Slowly, they began to sit together under the big almond tree behind the Faculty Library. It became their place. They’d talk about life. Dreams. Music. She loved Asa. He preferred Brymo. One evening, as the sun dipped low and the sky wore a robe of gold and purple, Lola turned to him and said, “You remind me of light, Sam.” He chuckled. “Light as in NEPA light? Or God’s light?” She laughed. “The one that makes things grow. You make people around you better.” That night, Sam couldn’t sleep. How could he? A girl like Lola – fine, smart, cultured – and the daughter of Chief Alakija, one of the wealthiest businessmen in Nigeria, was calling him, the son of a pepper seller, light. His roommates started to notice. Sam, who once talked only about GP and lab reports, was now whistling in the morning and smiling into his phone like a madman. “Guy, this one wey you dey glow anyhow, you don finally catch babe?” Tunde, his roommate, teased. Sam grinned. “My guy, no be like that-“ “Abeg shift!” Tunde laughed. “Na so love