“Ladies, What Do You Do When the Man You Built Leaves You After Relocating?”

They met during NYSC, under a dusty canopy in Ogun State.
He had dreams bigger than his wallet.
She had sense and a steady PPA at a microfinance bank.

He told her with absolute confidence:

“Give me time. I’ll make it to Canada. And when I do, you’re coming with me.”

At first, she rolled her eyes. But something about the way he said it 
the hunger, the hope made her believe him.
More than he probably believed in himself.

He failed the first IELTS.
She paid for the second.
When he got stuck on his SOP, she rewrote the conclusion herself.
When his biometrics fee bounced, she sent ₦200k from her savings,
no questions asked.

He called her “his person.”
She became his editor, sponsor, prayer partner, and travel agent all in one.

Even his best friend, Tolu, once said:

“If you ever leave this girl behind when you blow, na thunder go visit you in winter.”

Everyone laughed.
Including her.
Not knowing it would become prophecy.

The day his visa was approved, she didn’t hear from him.
Not a message. Not a call.
Tolu told her not him.

She asked him why.
He said, “I wanted to surprise you.”

But the only surprise she got was a WhatsApp story weeks later:
A blurry photo taken outside Toronto Pearson Airport.
Snow on the pavement. A suitcase at his feet.
The caption read: “New beginnings.”
She wasn’t tagged.

Still, she waited.
Told herself maybe he needed time to settle.
Maybe he was working on her papers.
She didn’t nag. She didn’t complain.
She just waited.

Then Ada, her roommate, showed her a Facebook post.

He got married.
In Calgary.
To a woman in scrubs.
A nurse.
Three months after landing.

The caption read:
“God’s timing is perfect.”

That night, she didn’t cry.
She just stared at the screen and tried to figure out how love could evaporate
after all the investments, sacrifices, and whispered promises.

She texted him, only once.

“So this is it?”

He replied the next morning:

“You were amazing. I’ll always appreciate you. But I had to make the best decision for my future. I hope you understand.”

And just like that,
her loyalty became a souvenir he forgot to pack.

Sometimes, when the power’s out and her phone is silent,
she still wonders Was the real betrayal him leaving?
Or her believing she was ever part of his destination…
when maybe, she was only meant to help him take off?

People still ask her why she doesn’t trust easily.
Why she rolls her eyes when men talk about “forever.”
She never explains.
She just says,

“I helped someone chase the sky. And he forgot who packed his parachute.”