The Boyfriend Who Threw Me Away

My name is Amara Okafor. I was 19 years old when I made the biggest mistake of my life.I gave up my university admission for a man.The admission letter was on the table. University of Lagos. Law. My mother had cried when it came. She was a market woman in Onitsha. She sold akara for 20 years to pay my WAEC."Mama, I will be a lawyer," I told her, hugging the letter. "I will build you a house."That same night, my boyfriend, David Okonkwo — no, not the David from my first book, a different David in this story, let's call him Chidi Eze — came to my house crying.Chidi was my secondary school sweetheart. He was brilliant. He had also gotten admission to University of Lagos. Engineering. But his father had died. His mother had no money. He had no one."Amara, I cannot go to university," he said, tears falling. "I have no fees. I will have to go and learn mechanic work in Onitsha."I looked at my admission letter. I looked at his face.And I did something my mother never forgave me for.

I did not go back to Chidi's office.I did not go to his wedding.I disappeared.The morning after the chemist shop, I woke up at 4am. My mother was already frying akara. The smell filled our small compound in Onitsha. The compound where I grew up. The compound where I dreamed of becoming a lawyer.I packed one small Ghana-must-go bag. Two wrappers. One Bible. The pregnancy test. And the wedding invitation I tore into pieces."Mama, I am leaving Onitsha," I said.My mother stopped frying. Oil was popping."Where are you going, Amara? Chidi will come and look for you. He will come and apologize."I laughed. A bitter laugh."Mama, Chidi will not come. He gave me N50,000 to abort his child. He said I will embarrass him at his wedding. I am not going to wait for a man who threw me away like pure water sachet.""So where?""I am going to my grandmother's village in Enugu. Nobody knows me there. I will stay there until I give birth. I will work. I will survive. I will not beg Chidi Eze for

3 months later, I gave birth alone.Not alone alone. My grandmother was there. Sophia was there. But Chidi was not there. The father of my child was in Lagos, drinking champagne, pretending to be a billionaire CEO.My water broke at 2am. In Enugu. In my grandmother's small house."Mama! Mama! The baby is coming!" I shouted.My grandmother, 80 years old, blind in one eye, ran to my room with a lantern."Amara, hold on! Hold on! We are going to the hospital!"But there was no car. There was no keke at 2am. The road to Enugu Teaching Hospital was dark and empty.Sophia was sleeping in the next room. She woke up, wearing only a wrapper, no makeup, no heiress clothes."Amara! Breathe! Breathe! I am calling a taxi!"She called 10 taxis. Nobody picked up at 2am. She ran outside, in the rain, in her wrapper, shouting for help.A man with a keke finally stopped. He looked at me, pregnant, crying, water on the floor."Madam, I cannot carry her. She will give birth in my keke!"Sophia brought ou

One week after Eko Hotel, I was back in my office.Okafor & Adeyemi Law Firm. 15th floor. Victoria Island. Glass walls. My name on the door in gold letters.I was no longer an akara seller. I was no longer a maid. I was Barrister Amara Okafor, CEO.But my heart was still tired.Chidi Eze had been calling me every day since Eko Hotel. 50 missed calls. 100 messages."Amara, please forgive me.""Amara, let me see my son.""Amara, I will die if you don't talk to me."I blocked his number. I blocked his second number. I blocked his third number.Sophia came into my office with two cups of coffee."Amara, you are famous now. The video of Eko Hotel has 2 million views on TikTok. Everyone is calling you the Queen Who Threw Her Boyfriend Away."I smiled. "Sophia, I don't want fame. I want peace. I want Chiamaka to have a normal life."At that moment, my secretary knocked."Madam, there is a man here to see you. He says his name is Barrister Tunde Bakare. He says he wants to join your firm."Tu

Chidi's phone was still in his hand. His face was white. His hands were shaking."Amara... someone has kidnapped my mother. They said if I don't pay N10 million in 24 hours, they will kill her."The whole restaurant went silent. Even the waiter stopped moving.I looked at Chidi. Was he lying again? Chidi had lied to me for 5 years. He lied about the wedding. He lied about the pregnancy. He lied about the N500 million.But this time, his tears looked real."Chidi, show me the message," I said.He showed me his phone. A message from an unknown number:"We have your mother, Mama Eze. Bring N10 million to Ojuelegba bridge tomorrow by 6pm, or you will never see her again. Don't call police. Don't tell Amara."My heart stopped. Mama Eze. Chidi's mother. The woman who used to call me her daughter when Chidi and I were in University. The woman who used to give me food when I had no money."Mummy... Chidi, is this real? Did you call your mother?"Chidi called her. No answer. He called again. N