It all started the day I entered the university.
Getting admission into the University of Nigeria, Nsukka, was more than just a dream come true—it felt like a ticket into a world I had only imagined. The campus was alive with movement and noise: students hurrying to classes, the laughter of friends, and the occasional shout from the sports field. Everything felt new, exciting… and a little overwhelming.
I walked slowly through the main walkway, clutching my admission papers a little too tightly, trying to memorize every corner, every building. I wanted to belong here, but I also wanted to stay invisible—at least for now.
That's when I first noticed him. Not directly, but in passing. A flash of dark hair, a careless laugh that seemed to carry across the courtyard, and an aura that made the air around him feel heavier, electric somehow. Everyone seemed to know him—some with admiration, some with fear—but I only felt curiosity.
I told myself to ignore him, to focus on my classes, my goals. But something about the way he moved, like he owned every inch of the space, made me pause longer than I intended.
It was subtle, almost unnoticeable, but I had a feeling my peaceful, ordinary university life was about to change.I told myself to ignore him, to focus on my classes, my goals. But something about the way he moved, like he owned every inch of the space, made me pause longer than I intended. At least for now, I decided, I would focus on myself.
Registering through all the documents, getting my student ID, and finally entering my first class felt like crossing an invisible threshold into a new life. The classrooms were bigger than I imagined, filled with students who seemed to know each other already. I found a quiet seat near the back, hoping no one would notice the nervous girl who hadn't yet learned her way around.
Outside of classes, I stayed inside the hotel where I had arranged my accommodation, learning to navigate the cafeteria, the library, and the small shops near campus. Each day was a mix of excitement and exhaustion—waking early for lectures, rushing through assignments, and slowly making small connections with other students.
It's been three years now. Three years of learning, growing, and discovering who I was outside the protective bubble of my hometown. And through it all, he was always there—never directly in my way, but somehow present in the background. A shadow of trouble, a streak of danger I had learned to notice but not approach… until that one day when things began to change.
The first few days of industrial training were awkward. Our group met at the assigned company, a small but busy firm where every second seemed accounted for. I focused on learning, taking notes, and following instructions, determined not to draw attention to myself.
He, on the other hand, moved through the office like he owned it. Always confident, always speaking first, always teasing someone just enough to get a reaction. Some people found him irritating; others seemed drawn to him. I tried to ignore him, but it was impossible. His presence was like a shadow that followed me wherever I went.
One afternoon, as we were assigned to collaborate on a project, I found myself sitting next to him.
"So, you're actually quiet," he said casually, glancing at the notes I had been scribbling. His tone wasn't mocking, but there was a challenge in his voice, as if he were daring me to say something clever.
"I like to pay attention," I replied softly, trying to keep my voice steady.
He raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Attention, huh? That's one way to survive in a place like this."
I didn't know whether to be annoyed or intrigued. There was something about him—something unpredictable—that made my pulse race, even when he wasn't doing anything particularly remarkable.
Over the next few weeks, we were forced to work closely together. Small interactions—sharing documents, discussing project ideas, debating approaches—slowly chipped away at my careful distance. I noticed things about him that no one else seemed to: the way he paused when he thought no one was looking, the flashes of honesty beneath his confident façade, the rare moments when he seemed almost… human.
And I realized, with a mix of excitement and fear, that the "bad guy" everyone whispered about might not be as simple as he seemed.