I won’t blame anyone but myself for my predicament, as I can easily say my obsession with Wiz Khalifa led me into a relationship with Kennedy (not real name). It was meant to be the best thing that happened to me, but I deserved better than what he gave me.
Kennedy was like a doppelganger of American rapper, Wiz Khalifa, and it was nothing other than a dream nearly coming through when I met him through a friend. He had just returned from the states, and was spending his vacation in Nigeria. We became friends instantly, and my obsession led me quickly into his arms.
Kennedy was loving and nice to me but the issue we that he had a girlfriend in the states; a white girlfriend!
According to him, the girl was there for him when he had nothing in the states, she was devoted to him and would have come to Nigeria with him to begin marriage plans. I initially didn’t see her as a threat. I felt she was white, and Kennedy being a Nigerian, would probably not want to end up with her. Also, she was far away, and I was at the moment close to him, I was determined to do all within my power to keep him.
Kennedy stayed back in Nigeria longer than he should, and his white girlfriend came visiting. All through her visit, Kennedy avoided me like I was a deadly virus. I tried to understand, and even when we talked about it (after she had left) I made it clear to him that I am his sidechic, but I would not remain that way. I still believed things would change soon.
The turning point for our dysfunctional relationship came when I got pregnant for Ken. I couldn’t tell my parents, and I was confused about what to do. I told Ken about it, but he vehemently denied responsibility. I was hurt and it finally dawned on me that I may have been used. After four months of trying to decide whether to keep the baby or not, I had to travel to Cotonou, lying to my folks that I had business over there. I visited a doctor through a friend in search of a way to get rid of the baby, but the doctor advised that aborting the baby at that stage would be dangerous for me. I however begged him to go ahead as I was not willing to raise a fatherless baby. All through this while, Kennedy was not answering my calls, and even when I managed to reach him, he sounded so cold and was quick to get off the phone.
I eventually did the abortion, and had to be admitted for more than two weeks in order to recuperate properly. I returned to Lagos, and (weird me) still went in search of Kennedy. I told him what I had gone through, and that was when he showed remorse. He promised to make it up to me, but I had realized at that point that the relationship was not worth it, the love was one sided, and I deserved better than I got from Kennedy.
I had to find my self-respect back and end the relationship with him, even though it hurt because I was saying goodbye to my very own ‘Wiz Khalifa’.
Don’t get it twisted, I am still in love with the real Wiz Khalifa, but Kennedy’s version was toxic for me. I have since moved on, and I am glad that I can be strong enough to share this story with GLOWVILLE.
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