When I joined campus, I was oblivious to the real world. It was my first time being out on my own after coming from a Catholic school. Everything seemed so exciting and extreme at the same time. The mere thought of going to a club made me feel like I was committing the biggest sin. To make matters worse, I had a freak for a roommate. She’d go out from Monday to Monday. I think she hardly attended classes since she’d get to the hostel in the morning and spend the rest of the day nursing a hungover before doing it all again.
I did a good job avoiding that kind of behaviour for at least my first year in university. Believe it or not, I stayed a virgin throughout the year. Then, I became friends with one of my classmates who also live in the same hostel as I did. Our friendship seemed like it blossomed overnight and after that, we were inseparable. We had lunch together, went shopping together and I even convinced her to go to the library with me once in a while.
“You know, babe, these girls you see with expensive bags come from rich families.” She mentioned one day as we sat at the cafeteria.
It was a random comment but I assumed it was light gossip as we often did. However, she didn’t stop there.
“They’re not like us. We don’t come from rich families.”
I was quiet since I didn’t know where she was going with the conversation.
“If you want, I can show you how to make money.” She finally said.
It was well known in the hostel that my new best friend had a sugar daddy. She never denied it either. So, when she offered to teach me how to make money, I automatically knew she wanted to introduce me to an older man. By this time, I was somewhat of a party girl. I had a boyfriend who I regularly visited and had started admiring the girls who had nice clothes and expensive phones. I agreed to her offer.
“What do you have in mind?”
“Come to my room tonight. I’ll show you.”
As instructed, I went to her room where I found her all dolled up. There was another set of clothes on the bed which she gave me to wear.
“We’re going to meet my boyfriend.”
She called him her boyfriend but when we got there, the man look more like her older uncle. He had a big belly, a shiny bald head, and wore a suit that barely fit him. he was accompanied by another slightly younger-looking man. My friend embraced him for a good minute as he ran his hands all over her body. After he turned to me and I reached out my hand to greet him. He pulled me in and also hugged me for a long minute. Then, he introduced his friend and we finally sat down.
I felt awkward the entire time and barely said a word. After the night, my friend went home with her “boyfriend” and I was left with the other guy.
“I need to go home,” I said.
“Okay. I can drop you.” He offered but I resisted. “Don’t worry. I will take you directly to your place.”
Somehow, I felt like I could trust him. I gave him the address to my campus hostel and he took me there.
“Thank you,” I said almost jumping out of the car.
“You’re welcome. I hope I’ll see you again,” he said then pulled me in a kissed me.
For whatever reason, I was not offended or repulsed by his kiss. In fact, I was excited. I spent the night thinking about it and smiling. My friend finally came back from her sleepover and I couldn’t wait to tell her what had happened.
“Sweetie, don’t tell me you’re catching feelings for this guy.”
“I don’t know. Maybe I am.”
For the next months, I met the guy regularly. We started doing relationship things like going to the movies, shopping, and dinner dates. Before I knew it, half of my belongings were at his place and I was spending more time there than I did on campus.
On my birthday, he proposed and we got married shortly after. My parents knew about it but since we did it so fast, they didn’t have the opportunity to attend the wedding. However, the guy sent them a lump sum of money and promised to pay the rest of my school fees.
Everything was great at the beginning. My life at campus went on as usual and I was actually happier than I had ever been in my life. Then, all of a sudden, he switched. It seemed like one night he came home and he was a different man. It started as verbal abuse. He’d criticize everything I did, my campus life, and even the way I looked. I went from being the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen to being a fat, lazy girl.
Every night, he’d come home with a different problem that we’d argue about for hours. I couldn’t go home since I was out of town and I couldn’t move back to the campus hostel since I didn’t have enough money. My only friend, the girl who introduced me to the guy, had stopped talking to me months ago. I had no option but to endure the abuse until I completed campus.
I came to find out that the problem started with the same friend who had introduced me to him. She told the guy that I was an escort who was after his money and that I had undergone a procedure that prevented me from getting pregnant. I endured the abuse for three years but despite the challenges, I graduated on time with the rest of my classmates. I filed for divorce the next day after my graduation and was finally free from the shackles of my abusive husband.
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