You guys , let me just say it now:
If you see one tall, fine man wandering barefoot around Lekki Phase 1 holding a white Bible in one hand, teddy bear in the other, whispering sweet nothings to the sky like he’s FaceTiming Jesus don’t panic cause he is not that mad 😏
He’s not high either. And he didn’t escape from Yaba Left.
He’s just in love.
With me.
Well—was😏
Because the truth is, Tayo didn’t run mad from loud, thunder, or generational curses.
He ran mad because of love.
Love for me.
And no, before you ask, I didn’t jazz him
At least not the type they sell in calabashes or pour into coke .
I didn’t use oil from the marine kingdom.
I didn’t chant his name over a white candle at midnight🤷🏽♀️
I didn’t even put his picture under my pillow.
All I did was exist 🤷🏽♀️ fine, moisturized, dimpled, clear skin, common sense, and a smile that smells like hope.
Apparently, that was enough to wreck somebody’s son.
it was in church.
Yes, church. The holy place 🙏🏼
I was in my “I want to be serious with God” era.
I wore an ankle-length dress that said “Proverbs 31 woman ” but my makeup said “Esther with a bit of Ruth and dangerous curves.”
I sat at the back to avoid distraction, but what did distraction do?
Wore native and sat beside me.
“Turn to your neighbor and say something nice,” the pastor said.
He turned.
I turned.
Our eyes locked.
He smiled.
I smiled.
And boom
😍😍😍
He fell. Hard.
After service he said
“God told me you’re the one. Twice.”
Me: 🙄🙄🙄
Because what is it with Lagos men and dragging God into their nonsense ?
Like God is their wingman in
foolishness.
But girls, let me not lie 🙊Tayo was fine.
That kind of fine that looks like his beard drinks collagen shakes🥺
Gym in the morning, tech bro by noon, prayer warrior by night.
So I replied. One small line:
“That vision is for only your eyes to see😏 but I’ll pray about it sha “
The next day?
Lunch showed up at my office.
Not Indomie o. Not Gala and La Casera.
Jollof rice, fried rice, grilled turkey, a full pack of Fanta, and a sticky note:
“Sweet Fanta Dialo. My future wife “
My colleague peeked inside the nylon and said,
“Is it Deji again?”
I said no. And eyed her .
She said, “Hmm. I go love.”
And just like that, soft life began.
For three weeks, I was living inside Psalms and romance novels.
First week: spa voucher.
Second week: a custom Bible with “Adaobi” engraved in gold.
Third week: he paid for my car service.
Later I found out he had installed a tracker. 🙃
But in the beginning? Oh, he was divine.
He’d pray with me before interviews.
Send me 50GB data when I said my WiFi was acting up.
Called me his guardian angel
Sent me love notes that read like short devotionals.
I felt chosen.
Loved.
Covered.
I was floating. Until I crash-landed.
The downfall began the day I replied “Good morning” at 10:13AM.
By 10:29AM, he had sent:
• “Hey”
• “Are you okay?”
• “Did I do something wrong?”
• “My chest feels heavy. Please don’t leave me.”
Sir. I was in a budget meeting. Breathe. Okay ??!
One time I posted a selfie on my story. I forgot to send it to him first.
He called me. Crying. 9 minutes of him crying. Like real tears. Not talking. Just background sniffing . I was so irritated. Like it was giving 👇🏽
He said, “Why would you share that part of yourself with the world before me?”
Ah. That was when I knew we were heading from Songs of Solomon to Deliverance 101.
Then next thing like this, his mummy just landed at my gate uninvited 🥹I kid you not.
Full Ankara from neck to ankle like she came straight from a women’s fellowship meeting.
Head tie so high it looked like it had pride.
She was holding one greasy bottle of anointing oil and one woman with dramatic sunshades and church hat, who just said,
“I’m Prophetess Joyous.”
At that point, I knew this wasn’t “let’s talk.”
It was “let’s cast and bind.” 😩
She didn’t greet.
Just went straight into,
“Adaobi, what have you done to my son?!”
Me: “Ma?” 🌝🌝🌝
But In my mind I was like
Her: “He says your laughter calms his demons. That your voice smells like mango. That he sees your name every time he prays. He speaks in tongues and it sounds like your name — ADA-BO-BO-BO-BOOOO!”
😭😭😭😭😭
I looked at her.
She looked at me.
We both knew the situation had passed Holy Ghost intervention.
Meanwhile, Prophetess Joyous was already sprinkling oil on my gate and shouting in tongues like I’m the new HQ of the marine spirit.
She said I had “a magnetic womb.”
I said “God, am I the drama?”
It got worse.
He tracked my period.
Started sending me hot water bottles and cranberry juice before I even felt cramps.
I once went to my friend’s house to chill for the weekend.
By 8PM, a delivery guy showed up with flowers, and a note that said:
“Just making sure you’re safe. And that no man is holding your heart tonight.”
Another time I was sick and told him I needed rest.
He came to my house with lukewarm pepper soup and stood at the door for over an hour because I didn’t open fast enough.
He once sent me an empty gift box with a note inside:
“This is how I feel when I don’t hear from you.”
The final straw.
It was 12:03AM.
I was mid-sleep, mid-prayer, mid-dream about Canada when I heard a knock.
Not on the gate. On my window.
I opened the curtain… I thought it was my landlord’s goat .
Lo and behold it was Tayo …
Barefoot.
White singlet.
Pizza box in one hand, and… a flower pot in the other.
A real flower pot.
?????????????
He smiled and said,
“You sounded really tired on the call . Thought you might want to eat and look at something beautiful.”
(The beautiful thing was the flower. Not even me.)🙄🙄🙄
That was it.
That was the moment I knew it was either me or madness.
Because I honestly tried. I stayed. I prayed. I even fasted. This guy was spying on me ???!!!!
I eventually told him I needed space. I sent one long text that ended with:
“This isn’t working anymore. Please respect my decision.”
Blocked him.
Or so I thought.
Next afternoon? I walked into my coworking space with my chicken rep ice cream in hand, lashes fresh, ready to be productive.
Who do I see at reception?
Tayo. In sunglasses. Wearing a black turtleneck in Lagos heat.
He looked me dead in the eye and said:
“You’ll never find a man like me.”
I didn’t even speak. I just turned around like someone that forgot fresh fish at the market. Because it couldn’t be me.
I ran away from one obvious mad man ,Deji . Only to end up with a shoki-flavoured werey???
I give up.
The next week?
He mailed me a handwritten letter.
Inside: a pressed flower from our second date and a photo of me laughing 😭the one he printed off my IG.
Back of the photo:
“Your joy belongs to me.”
Ah. Jesus.
Then one Thursday morning, my HR sent me an email:
“There’s a man at the gate insisting he’s your spiritual spouse.”
You people.
At that point, I packed my bag and told my boss I was going on soul leave. Cause ?!!!!
They say he tattooed my initials on his back🙄Adaobi spelled with two Bs because he said “you’re double the blessing.” And his tongues still sounds like my name 🙄
I mean it’s cute 😍😂 I can’t lie
As for me ?
I’m moisturized. Back in therapy. And emotionally unavailable. Praising God🙏🏼✨
Because truthfully?
I didn’t jazz him. I didn’t pour oil on his picture.
All I did was exist.
And to him? I was the best thing since sliced bread 🤷🏽♀️fresh out the bakery, no butter needed.
But some men aren’t built for that kind of peace. They mistake it for possession. And next thing you know, they’re threatening your HR and anointing your doorstep and talking about your womb .
So please, if you ever see Tayo in Lekki, muttering my name and holding a flower pot, do not be afraid.
He’s not high. He’s not cursed. He’s not from Yaba Left.
He’s just a Lagos man who saw heaven in a babe named Adaobi… and forgot his earthly assignment.
I wish I had truly ruined him 🥹but nah, he’s too cute to finish off that easily. This is just Step One for Lagos men. Trust me, all of you will pay for what Femi did to me.
I’m officially taking the law into my own hands
Amen. 🙏🏾
See you soon 😍❤️
Is he real or a character you created.....
Because I want to be sure that these things really do happen
No one can give gist like you do😭😭💗