The instructions were simple. She told me to rub the pomade on my palms before shaking hands with her, and I was to do this for seven times. After the seventh time, she said I would see changes. She charged GHC200 and gave me her number to call when everything went well.

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Tina had rejected my first proposal. After saying no, she began to distance herself from me. I was heartbroken. Every time I saw her, I trembled. I was so in love with her that I fell asleep every night thinking about her. So, when I saw the woman selling herbs in the market and she mentioned “For-Girls,” I thought I should explore that option too.

I bought the pomade and took a car back to campus. The pomade stayed in my bag. I would stand near the entrance of the classroom and apply it whenever I saw her coming. The first time went well. We shook hands, smiled, and talked for a few minutes. By the fourth time, she said, “Always shaking hands. Don’t you want a hug?” She spread her arms, and I fell into them. We shook hands afterwards.

“Wow, she hugged me. This thing really works,” I thought to myself. After class that day, I walked her to her hostel. We stood outside and talked for a while. I expressed my feelings to her again. She replied, “Let’s talk about it next time we meet.”

Before the seventh handshake, she sent me a text message saying she had accepted my proposal. That same night, we sat under a shed and talked all night. I kissed her hand. She leaned in, and we kissed. It was brief, but the effect was seismic. I still shook her hand the seventh time with the pomade on my palm because I didn’t want to leave anything to chance.

The semester was all about us. She would come to my hostel, share my bed, and eat the meals I’d cooked. I had won. It was time to call the woman to inform her. Her number didn’t go through. I called consistently for days, but it was always switched off.

When school was on vacation, Tina posted a snap of herself sitting in a car, singing and dancing. I asked whose car it was, and she said it belonged to a friend. She posted different videos in the same car. One day, the guy’s face appeared in the video. He didn’t look like just a friend to me, but she insisted he was. Because I believed so strongly in what I had done to win her over, I trusted that she wouldn’t stray with another man.

When school reopened, the same guy brought her to campus. A lot had changed—she had a new iPhone, an Apple Watch, and a MacBook. On top of that, she always had an excuse whenever I wanted to see her. One night, I went to her hostel after she told me she couldn’t meet because she wanted to sleep early. She wasn’t there. She didn’t pick up my calls. The next time I called, her phone was off. The following day, when I confronted her, she said, “Do you want me to say it to your face before you understand what’s happening? I’m no longer interested.”

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“Has the For-Girls expired?” I wondered.

I tried calling the woman again, but the number didn’t go through. I went back to the market where I had first seen her. They told me she had only been there that one time.

The question I asked myself was, “Is money more powerful than For-Girls? Or did the pomade not work at all?”

Everything had been going so well. We talked about kids, where we would live, jobs, and everything. But when that guy appeared, whatever she felt for me vanished. Is money the antidote to For-Girls? Or did the woman trick me?

—Afrifa 

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