She ended everything but the love lives in me

“If love is about holding on, then I have done more than enough. And if love is about letting go… then maybe, just maybe, it’s time I finally learn how.” – Toheeb Babalola

I am not sure I can open the door of my heart widely for another occupant like Àbíkẹ́ again. She left me, I lost myself and wounded with unfaded love.

Before enrolling in a higher education institution in Ibadan, I made a commitment to myself not to be distracted by anything other than my studies and journalism. For me to sick to this, I engaged myself with many extra-curricular activities – campus journalism, rotary club, book club and Muslim association – which ate up 50% of my daily schedule on campus.

In all of the aforementioned clubs, including my department, there were pretty ladies who fit in the shoe of my choice when it comes to admiration. Also, as one of top five students in my class, I was surrounded by some of these ladies. “Toheeb, could we go to the library and explain this assignment to me?” was the song I heard from them every day. But I have never regretted to listen.

Many male students passing by misunderstood us as we held hands and carried books during the tutorial I had set up for them. I was given the title “Ọkọ Awọn obìnrin,” which I eventually grew accustomed to. But one thing was certain: I had never made any advances on any of the lovely ladies around me.

“Genuine love should be able to stay regardless of the situation, but when the storms came, I found myself standing alone, holding onto memories”

Those ladies appreciated me with gifts and care. When temptation set in, I dragged myself back with some rhetorical questions – “Do you really love one of them? Or Do you just want to take advantage of them?

Lose All The Ladies Because of Journalism

In my third year on campus, I was sworn-in as part of 10 Executives of the “Press Council” – a union of campus journalists – with the responsibility to push accurate and unbiased stories about the plight of the students and policies from management in the institution. I welcomed the position with open arms because I had been waiting for this remarkable moment while on campus.

The ladies – who had become close friends – congratulated me. Until later, I authored an article in the country’s most widely circulated newspaper, pleading for a long-term solution from the JAMB and my institution to a policy that had hampered the academic progress of some students. Instead of recognizing my efforts, it turned against me and resulted in backlash.

The disciplinary committee summoned me and threatened my studentship. The ladies who I expected to be my comforters distanced themselves because of the negative narratives they had heard about me. I realized that “genuine love should be able to stay regardless of the situation.” But I overcame the threat and felt stronger than I had ever been alone

How I met Àbíkẹ́ Mí

If someone told me I would fall in love, I would ignore them and walk away. It all began like a dream, just like when the moon descends from the sky to greet the inhabitants of the earth.

As a freelance journalist in my final year on campus, I was surfing X (formerly Twitter) when a post appeared on my timeline by Ọmọwumi Àbikẹ́ (not the real username), looking for sources on a specific story. I meticulously reviewed her profile and concluded that she, too, was a passionate campus journalist. I followed and she returned back her following.

Through her DM, we discussed becoming friends and working together. We shared contact information. She was a 300-level student at the time at one of Ondo State’s institutions but parents live in Lagos State. Beyond daily chatting, video calling, and caring, I discovered something new in myself: “Love.”

I had never cared for someone as much as I did for Abikẹ, and not hearing from her (both day and night) could not be myself. “Toheeb, tell her, tell her, you are a man”, something tipped me while summing up the courage.

Within three weeks of our friendship, I expressed my feelings to Àbíkẹ́ through chats and phone calls. Her response was neither yes nor no; she insisted on friendship, giving excuses from her previous relationships. Curiosity would not let me rest; I tried hard to persuade her and figure out problems, but to no avail.

However, our feelings for each other grew miraculously as we shared opportunities despite the distance.

Linking-Up in Lagos With Àbíkẹ́

After submitting impactful stories, I was selected as one of the awardees at the African Media Come Alive Conference (AMCAC) in Lagos. Meanwhile, Abikẹ had returned back to Lagos after a successful second semester examination. I was the happiest man on earth at that period.

Having described the location of the award and our Meet-up cafeteria after the event, Abikẹ told me to bring something special for her.

As a lover boy, I went shopping for “ring and bangles” at Ibadan’s Gbági international market the day before the event. The seller was intrigued, but the affection she saw on my face led her to guess the correct items. “Broda mi, your girlfriend would like these,” she says, holding up a pack of bangles and a ring.

I was filled with joy as I embarked to Lagos at 06:12am from Ibadan, Oyo State, wearing a new Adirẹ (African print) dress made of Ẹsiki and Kẹmbẹ, with an inner turtleneck-long sleeves. While in the bus, Abikẹ was checking on my journey as she also made her way from Ikorodu to the event centre.

I happened to be the first awardee to arrive at the Magodo centre early. My phone rang, and it was Abikẹ Mi, who said she was outside the hallway. I dashed out, phone in my ear, staring at someone dressed in a green T-shirt, white trousers, and canvas with a headscarf, who waved back. I shouted “ABIKẸ” and hugged her tightly.

She joined the audience, I sat in a row of the awardees, and she sent a message which says “I love your dress” and cheered me up as I received my award. I couldn’t help but laughing. Assisting me with my bag as we moved to Chicken Republic, where we relaxed and chilled.

I brought the special gifts, “the ring and bangles”, she was feeling shy. I gazed at her and I professed my love to her again. However, she maintained her position on friendship rather than relationship. She eventually allowed the gifts in her finger and wrist

Time Together in Ibadan

As our friendship grew, we were selected for fact-checking training in Ibadan, where I live, and Abikẹ came from Ondo State. She arrived at my place a day before the event. When I went to the bus stop to pick her up, she was dressed in a deep blue gown with a black hijab covering her head. I was overjoyed to find my ring on her finger. “You can’t even appreciate for wearing your ring”, she said, having no knowledge about the happiness in me.

She freshened up and ate fried rice. I made it specifically for her but later shared the plate with her. I took her on a tour of Ibadan’s landmarks, including Cocoa House, Ogunpa Market, Thirty-two 94.9fm Radio Station, and Heritage Mall. I made sure she had a good time with me West Africa’s largest city.

The next day, we awoke as early as possible and biked to the training venue to meet other journalists from various parts of the Southwest. The two days with me, remained memorable moments.

Tearful Journey to Heartbreak

I wouldn’t have journey to Ondo State, If I had known that it would cut the rope of fondness between me and Abikẹ. But did I do anything wrong?

As her final year began, she complained of feeling ill and received an injection from the institution’s health center. I was really concerned as if the sickness happened to me. I promised to pay her a visit and set aside time to spend with her.

In mid-May 2024, with a bag full of food and a few clothes, I was wearing my starched royal blue native and marched cap. There were no direct buses from Ibadan to Akoko zone, where she schooled in Ondo State. I had to divide the journey into two: Ibadan to Akurẹ and Akurẹ to Akoko, totaling four hours. Despite rising fuel and fare prices, I could not avoid seeing Abikẹ mi.

She was tracking my travels via video call and chat, and our conversation was causing inconvenience for other passengers. Seeing mountains, villages, and beautiful people speaking different Yoruba dialects makes this an enjoyable adventure for me.

Finally arrived at Akoko and waited near “Chike Gas,” a popular store in this student neighborhood. Abikẹ, dressed in a blue blouse and short knicker jeans, came to pick me up. We headed to her hostel, which is only two minutes from the main road and five minutes from

campus. After eating a meal she prepared for me, I accompanied her to the health center for an evening injection and toured the school.

The next day, she was in the room and told her to go see some of the nearby mountains. I left with a pair of key. However, before hiking, I spent time in the local community conducting interviews for people, which took up a significant amount of my time. It was already 3 p.m., the network was down, and she was looking for me without realizing it.

When I returned, I met her and her neighbours, who appeared to swallow me up. A barrage of questions flooded my ears, but I had no chance to respond or apologize. Instead, I went to my room, where she informed me that I needed to prepare to travel back to Ibadan the following day. I tried to persuade and narrate her at night, I was ignored.

As early as 5:am, Abikẹ accompanied me to the park and track my traveling till I reached Ibadan around 01:00pm. Before I knew it, she had blocked my contacts. I told her friend about what transpired between us, and she criticized my actions without hearing my aside of story. I cried and nobody wiped my tears.

I sent a friend to speak with Abikẹ on my behalf, but the report he gave only exacerbated my situation. I did not get myself for a few months, and people around me noticed this strange change in me.

I have never been in love like this before, and I am afraid to trade in the relationship market.

In July 2024, she unblocked me and I was surprised. However, she came harder with words, “Don’t come your love again, let’s maintain respect or else I cannot wait to block you again”

This threat cannot deter my love for her.

By Toheeb Babalola

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