Broken Memories From My Past
A story about heartbreak and rejection from — by Ijeoma Mbah
The Kalahari Review
The Kalahari Review
May 26 · 5 min read

As I rummaged through my old photos, bitter memories from the hollow embers of antiquity came hurling back at me.
Everything happened so fast, alas! I am alone again. It seemed that I was always destined to fall in love with the wrong person.
After two failed relationships I knew love was never going to find me. I left my job, moved to a new apartment and started a small business in a small town in Ibadan.
It all started when my dark, handsome next-door neighbour, came knocking on my door on a cold Sunday morning.
He came hoping to get movies from me, I was reluctant at first for I was always suspicious of strangers.
On seeing my reaction he started retreating, “I am sorry, my name is Muyiwa,I just moved into this neighbourhood, and I was wondering if I could get movies from you, I wouldn’t know how if that’s okay by you.” The rich sound of his voice sounded like music to my ears.
“Why not come in, my name is Lola, I think I can help you.” I heard myself say.
I led him into my small apartment, got out my laptop and started surfing through the internet for the latest Nollywood movies.
I could feel his eyes on my fingers while I worked, I felt uncomfortable.
“why not go through the movies yourself, you might not like my kind of movies.” I handed the laptop to him. As he moved quietly and sat beside me on the only sofa in my room, I caught the faint scent of his cologne.
While he sat beside me, he appeared tensed and I guessed that he was worried about something. “is everything okay?” I inquired.
He shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat. “I am sorry I get like this at times, just that you remind me so much of my ex-girlfriend, we broke up few months ago.”
“I am sorry about, care to talk about it?” I asked.
he raised his eyes to meet mine “I met my ex Jumoke, while I was working in a firm in Lagos.”
“Then I was working as an accountant, while she was a cashier.” “From the first day I saw her, I fell in love with her, she was gorgeous and intelligent.”
“Jumoke was the eldest child of her family, their Dad had left when she was ten. She was always looking sad, I hated seeing her like that, so I decided to help.”
He cleared his throat again, “ To cut the story short, I gave her all my savings, when I approached her to marry me, she refused, I became confused and angry, I demanded an explanation, she told me she was also seeing our manager, and is ready to be his second wife.”
When he raised his gentle eyes to meet mine, he had tears in his eyes “she told me that she would rather be a second wife to a Man who can take care of her and cater for of her family, rather than be the only wife of a man who was still struggling.”
The sight of a crying Man made me uncomfortable, immediately I hated Jumoke for putting him through all this. I handed him a white handkerchief to blow his nose.
I smiled as I thought of both of us, “ isn’t it funny that what we want, might not want us, I fell in love with a Man, whom I felt would stay with me, I loved him with everything inside of me. I practically had to beg for everything he ought to give me.”
A dry laugh erupted from my lips, as I narrated my own experience. “I had to beg for his love and attention, all the while he was sleeping with my best friend and now they are getting married!”
“I will probably die a spinster, please is it too much to ask for attention, from a man
who claimed he loves me?” I lamented.
As we shared our bitter experiences, I felt like I have known him for a long time, he wanted comfort and succour, but I desperately needed love.
He reached for my right hand and squeezed my fingers reassuringly. “You are a beautiful woman, your ex is probably stupid to have let a woman who is ready to love him slip away.”
I smiled amidst my tears, “Thanks, you are so kind, your ex was also foolish for leaving you.”
He pulled me closer to himself on the sofa “Come here,” he crooned. I could feel his breath on my face.
He handed my handkerchief back to me, which I used to dry my tears. There and then I wished he was mine and I wished he could stay with me.
He tilted my chin to meet his soft eyes, “Everything will be alright, it is not your fault, having a bad relationship doesn’t mean you are a bad person.” Just hearing him speak reassuringly ignited hope inside me.
Muyiwa leaned closer and touched his lips to mine, I kissed him back, I don’t know what came over me, on a Sunday morning! I kissed him back.
This was how our relationship started. Once we started having sex, we couldn’t stop. We became addicted to each other, we acted like wild animals, the only thing we did was eat, sleep and have sex.
Our relationship came to a halt when Jumoke started calling Muyiwa tell him that, she was been mistreated by her husband, and needed to talk to him. He left for Lagos and never came back. Nothing made sense again, I felt used and dirty.
I ended up alone again, struggling to put my tattered life back together again. Trying to bandage the shattered pieces of my broken heart.
Gathering my box of old photos I strolled lazily to the back of my apartment and set them ablaze. I had no business been in a relationship again.
Ijeoma Mbah is a Nigerian writer. She hails from Enugu State, Nigeria. She holds a B.A degree in philosophy, from the University of Ibadan, Nigeria. Ijeoma is a passionate writer and an avid reader. She is a member of Prolific Fiction Writers Community. You can follow her on Twitter @ijeoma_mbah1904.
Fiction
Ijeoma Mbah
African Literature
Nigeria
Heartbreak

THE GENESIS OF WRITING
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To write well, you must understand that writing is about communication and skillful articulation of ideas, the tool of communication here is language.

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Learning how to respect yourself is one of the best things you can ever do for yourself.

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— Respecting yourself means, attaching some degrees of personal value to your existence as an individual.

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Until you start Respecting yourself nobody will respect you.

An African adage says, “once you tell the whole community that you have a useless calabash, they will certainly use it to pack rubbish.”