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How do we know the ones we love,

when betrayal stares us in the face?

How do we erase the ones we lost

when we can’t tell what’s fake?


Oluwadarasimi's POV

9 years ago

Standing in front of these huge doors, I battled within myself whether I should enter or not. My heart was heavy as I looked at the little girl in my arms and I just wanted to let it out. I wanted to be strong or at least pretend to be so I can get through this but my tears had a mind of their own as they kept threatening to fall. My black hoodie was protecting me from the cold I was feeling inside and out. Taking a huge whiff of breath, I entered the church. It was empty, except for the light in the inner room showing that someone was around, probably the pastor. I took my seat at the back and just stared at the cross on the wall while cradling my sleeping little one.

“Why?” my lips finally moved as if it was the only thing I could utter. I just couldn’t understand why these kinds of things happen, why I have to be a part of it but mostly why I was born.

“I don’t understand,” I said again, my tears threatening to fall as I stared hard at the cross on the wall.

My mind was a jumbled mess and I couldn’t get my head straight. I always knew this was bound to happen but I never knew I would have such a hard time accepting the fact that bothered me ever since I could understand the words that came out of an adult’s lip. My lips quivered as my tears fell, I put my hand on my chest to try and ease my breathing as I was alone and didn’t want to cause noise but it didn’t seem to work. I sobbed harder trying to grasp my situation as it made my sobs louder and my voice filled the whole church.

“People say you can make things happen. They say you give peace and help to those who need it. Please give me some of that peace now” my sobs became even louder as I spoke to the cross hoping someone was at least hearing me.

“If you can hear me, please help me. Help me know what to do next because I am lost,” I cried out. I wasn’t born a Christian, in fact, my parents never believed and were seriously against it but my situation wasn’t one I found funny and I just needed to let it out.

“He hears you, you know” I jumped at the voice and looked back to see a man probably in his late 40’s looking back at me. He saw the baby in my arms and smiled with compassion, at least, I thought it was.

“God always listens to those who call out to him for help and he always helps them,” he said to me softly while looking at the cross. My head hung low as the tears were making their way back to my eyes.

“Will he help me?” I couldn’t help but ask, I was desperate and in need of understanding. I was so young. I shouldn't have gone through any of this.

“He always does, however, it may not be in the way you expect or want but everything comes together in the long run that is why we must be patient.” My sobs broke out because I didn’t think I had the time to wait long. I needed help, immediate help. I felt a hand on my shoulder making me stop crying for a moment.

“Let it out. It is always best to tell him exactly how you feel even though he already knows. He has already begun the process of helping you, you just need to open your eyes and heart to see and understand what he has set for you. It is always hard to believe what you cannot see but that’s what brings hope and strength to keep going” He said while patting my back reassuringly and I did just that, I let everything out.


The loud noise of the hall brought me out of my memories. I quickly packed up my things since the lecture was over.

“Finally, I thought the lecturer wanted to use overtime, I would have fainted from boredom,” Praise said while putting her hands on her head in frustration while I just had a little sad smile on my face. My memories were not always ones to be proud of but they never leave me, no, instead it was like I kept having a replay every single time and it was exhausting.

“Where did this school get their lecturers from, even the project assignment he gave us is too complicated, I understand we are students but seriously, this is too much” she continued before putting her head on the table. I shake my head at her antics, she always complained when it came to trade union law and all I ever did was laugh it up because even though the class is boring, we still have to face it, there was no use complaining. After her grunts and complaints, we finally stood up to leave.

My name is Mohammad Oluwadarasinmi Semiat. I was in my 5th year studying Law at Lagos State University and I was 23 years old. I was a conservative person; I loved doing things on my own because that was how I have always lived and because of that I have just one true friend in the whole world. I was the type of person that always hid her pain behind a smile and even though I loved doing things on my own, I still tried to lead a good life with a little fun even though I never had the time for it. I have been working as a fashion designer for 3 years making it easy for me to settle my living expenses as well as school fees as my parents can’t do that for me but we’ll get to why later.

“Are you not going for the HOD’s cup match, everyone is going?” Praise asked me for the third time today and she always knows my answer but she never wants to believe it. The HOD’s cup match is a football match that a department plays and it was our department’s turn today.

“No! You know I can’t. I have to go pick grace up from school and go to work” I answered her with a straight face knowing she wasn't going to let it go.

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