YOU’RE NOT THE BOSS OF ME

YOU’RE NOT THE BOSS OF ME

I attended a very religious private university, one that is in complete hatred of any form of amorous relationship. You could even get expelled for talking to your own sister after 6 pm.

I promised myself before I got in that I would do my absolute best to become someone, something that is entirely different from whom I am. I vowed never to represent myself as the person I had always been but rather to blend in with the crowd and try to be invisible. Never to have anything sexual relationship with anyone within the confines of those walls.

I however did not succeed in being a different person (what can I say, my flame burns really bright); it wasn’t very long before I started a community around me and we bonded greatly. But I succeeded in staying away from any form of sexual entanglements. Of course I had guys who wanted some but I endeavoured to keep my ways straight, no pun intended.

My life in school went smoothly and I was already on my way out, seeing as I had finished my final exams. And in no time, I was finally going to be free, or so I thought.

One morning, in the rush to print the finished chapters of my project to submit to my supervisor, I misplaced my memory card from the card reader I used to access the document. I panicked because I knew the content of the card which included messages, private memoirs, erotic pictures (none of myself though) and of course a small stash of gay porn.

I soon got over it and moved on.

Then about a week later, someone walked up to me and asked if I’d misplaced a memory card and without thinking, I said yes, happy I was going to get it back. He then took me to the person who was in possession of it and it turned out to be Blessing, a fellow student who was a very close acquaintance of mine.

But that acquaintanceship did not come into play, as he asked me to settle him if I wanted the card. I was starting to think this would be something easy to do, when he went on to tell he had gone through everything on the card and had seen messages, pictures and videos. He said he had enough evidence to make sure I would not graduate and that I was going to be shamefully expelled – except I gave him 20,000 naira in the next 24 hours.

Words cannot express how petrified I was. I was beyond devastated and was even ready to just die in that moment. I immediately called my mother (who I was already out to). I didn’t want to tell her about my predicament because I felt I had already brought her so much pain when I was kitoed. Instead, I asked her to send me 20K immediately and not to ask me what I wanted to do with the money. She obliged me immediately.

I then gave my ATM card to Blessing with my pin and told him to withdraw the money, seeing as he was leaving school that day. I was so ashamed that I couldn’t even tell any of my friends. Blessing came back later that night very infuriated. He said I gave him a card that was seized because I had no money in my account and that I was playing him. I tried to tell him that he wasn’t patient to wait for the account to be credited and he gave me a resounding slap. Tears immediately rushed down by eyes and I felt humiliated and defeated. He then told me he now wanted 50, 000 naira within the next 48 hours or I should consider myself done for.

I again immediately called my mum and asked for the money and she said she would give it to me. At this point, I finally summoned the courage to talk to my closest friend. (I regard him as my youngest daughter, Tricia). And he was so upset with me for not telling him sooner and for being so helpless. He looked at me and said, “Mother, how can you allow a small boy like Blessing do this to you, when even I can handle him in a second!” He was ready to use the highest form of law amongst students who had an eye for him to teach Blessing a lesson. I begged him not to, that it would be easier to just pay him off and move on.

The next day, Mumsy chose to travel all the way from Calabar to my school with the money. This time, she wanted to know what was truly up and I told her. She didn’t get offended in any way and she told me she was going to pay the money, but first, she needed to see Blessing. I went back to the hostel to tell Blessing I had the money, but before I could speak, he told me he now wanted 100, 000 naira paid into his account in the next 7 days. Stunned by his greed, I tried to speak and this time he slapped me even harder and I just couldn’t find the strength to cry this time.

I couldn’t cry because the straw had finally broken the camel’s back. I was done being sorry for myself, done being the victim, done being a prisoner to a jailer less than me.

Mumsy had insisted of seeing him, so when I walked away from Blessing, I arranged with a friend to pose as him. After she was done speaking to him, I collected the money and told her to sign me out of school for two weeks because only a parent can get a student out for that long. When she left, I called a friend who had the connection and he helped me get a new accommodation in a hostel far from the one I was residing in. I moved all my things in the middle of the night to the new room. With my exeat, I left school the following day and went to town. I paid for a room in a hotel, took myself out on a wonderful treat for 4 days, and then finally went home just before my birthday and spent the remaining days with friends and family.

When I came back to school, I went straight to my new room to stay. My new roommates were mostly final year students of Medicine who had spent almost 10 years in school. They loved me and welcomed me with open arms and I was finally at rest again.

Then after about one month, I ran into Blessing. He was surprised to see me, and was, like, “Where is my money?” I told him I didn’t owe him anything. He got angry and was, like, “Are you daring me?” And I looked him direct in the eye and said, “Yes, Blessing, I dare you. Do your worst. I want to see it. You think you know how to play? Well then, let us see who goes.” He was perplexed at the nerve I had and simply nodded and walked away.

Now this is what I figured out when my sense finally came back.

How was he to report the memory card? He simply cannot walk up to the school authorities and say “I found a memory card with gay porn and videos belonging to Mr. A.” If he had to show the pictures and videos, he would have to use a device, which is also prohibited. Now reporting it after all these weeks of being in possession of it would make his claim even more stupid. Was my memory card missing? Yes. Was the lewd content in it mine? Well, it hadn’t been in my possession for more than a month, so who knows what could have happened with the memory card in that time?

I never saw Blessing again till I finished school. But one thing I learned from the experience was to never give in to the oppressors. Their only strength is in your fears.

Written by Wiffey

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4 Comments

  1. Net
    April 04, 06:27 Reply

    Lol nice, I smell Madonna

  2. Mandy
    April 04, 07:13 Reply

    Well done, Wiffey. Well done. ????
    I like this lemonade you made out of the lemons life gave you. To still kuku collect the money meant for your blackmailer and spoil yourself with it. Kudos.

  3. Bibi
    April 07, 08:24 Reply

    This reminds me of madonna …. went through helllllllll in that school …. whenever i see a madonna student that gave me grief i always make sure they see how gay and proud i am now

  4. Andy
    April 09, 07:49 Reply

    Madonna has never been a haven for lgbt in anyway what so ever, the boys that fuck with you will turn around and kito you mercilessly. What wiffey went thru was tough, I went thru somtin similar in that same hellish university, and I admire her bravery for standing up to dat bastard blessing and refusing to pay up, some men r just not worth shit in this life.

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