Not long ago, I met this guy on WhatsApp. We started chatting. It was fun, I liked talking to him. Whether we communicated through texting or phone calls, he was always good company. He said he liked me. I liked him too. However, I wanted to take things slow. He, on the other hand, asked me to be his girlfriend just one month into our talking stage. 

“Let’s take our time and get to know each other better,” I told him. He said he didn’t mean to rush me. “It’s just that I am so in love with you,” he said. Well, I didn’t want to shut him out completely, so I agreed to his proposal. I wanted to see how it would go. 

One day, he asked me to meet him in Ashaiman. It was going to be our first meeting. He had told me he lived in Tema, so I assumed we’d just meet at Ashaiman and talk. I wanted to meet him and put a real-life face behind the person I had grown to like. 

That day he gave me directions to the place we were supposed to meet and left me to find my way. He didn’t even ask if I had money for transportation. I paid my own fare. Throughout the ride, he didn’t ask me to give him updates about my journey. 

When I finally got to Ashaiman, I realized that was where he lived and not Tema like he claimed. In hindsight, I should have turned around and gone home. There were too many red flags but maybe I was blinded by my curiosity to meet him in person.

He was exactly as I imagined him to be. Our conversations flowed so smoothly. It didn’t feel like the first time we were meeting. We spoke about everything: our past, the drama happening in our lives, and our hopes for the future. Everything he said started with a “We”. He meant me and him. I liked the sound of it. It meant I had a place in his life.

While I wanted to believe him, I was also skeptical. But he finally got me when he pulled out a promise ring and asked, “Will you take this ring as a token of my commitment to build something beautiful and long-lasting with you?” My heart was elated. All my doubts were silenced. I said yes.

I was so caught up in the moment that I lost track of time. By the time I realized it, it was too late for me to get back home. I didn’t know anyone in the town. I wasn’t comfortable sleeping at his place either. The only other option was for him to get me a guesthouse. 

When we got there he insisted on spending the night there with me. He said he wouldn’t sleep well in his bed knowing very well that I was all alone in a guesthouse. I was convinced. I let him stay.

We got quite comfortable when we went to bed. Maybe too comfortable. His presence, his touch, his kiss, it all ignited something inside me. I did not plan to but we ended up going all the way. 

The next morning, as he was about to leave, I told him I didn’t have money for transportation back home. He asked for my MoMo number and sent me 15 cedis. Fifteen. This is someone who told me he was a marine engineer and a therapist. Not only that but he smelled like money. The way he dressed, his apartment, even the way he walked, everything showed he was doing well for himself. Yet he gave me GHS15!

He made me feel like trash. As if to tell me I was disposable to him. I wondered what happened to all the promises he made me. How he couldn’t shut up about our future together. Only to leave me feeling used. 

I didn’t let him see how badly I was hurt. Rather, I thanked him and watched him leave.

I remember sitting on the bed watching his retreating back. I thought about all the red flags I  ignored. Apart from the early signs, something else happened on our way to the guest house. I was hungry. When I told him, he frowned. Regardless, he bought me food. We didn’t eat it until much later, and by then, it had gone bad. He didn’t care. In fact, he insisted I eat it. I refused and used my own money to get something to eat. Ah, I should have known.

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At the moment realization dawned on me, my finger started to itch. It was the promise ring he gave me. I felt so angry looking at it. I yanked it off my finger and threw it at the wall. I never want anything to do with this man again, I resolved.

I sent him a message, “You are not worth it. I am moving on.” Then I blocked him. 

I Was Fine Until I Was Alone In My Room

He called me with different numbers but I blocked those ones too. He is a bad memory I want to forget. 

Maybe we could have had something great but my first encounter with him left me feeling deeply hurt. Now, it’s paining me that my one body count is now attached to someone who treated me like I was disposable. I should’ve known better. But I thought we had something real. I thought he was someone who saw me and respected me.

—Carol

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