Trust Worthy

TRUST WORTHY

My name is Elizabeth. I was twenty-one, almost twenty-two, when I began to realise how dangerous trust could be.

Perhaps I had always struggled with it.

Growing up, I had watched the people closest to me break promises and tell lies. My father and brothers had disappointed me in little ways that seemed insignificant at the time, but those moments stayed with me. Eventually, I began questioning everyone—even my faith.

There was only one person I trusted without hesitation: my best friend, Shola.

Until everything changed.

It started on an ordinary afternoon when Shola and I went to the supermarket to buy our favourite wine, Four Cousins. We returned to her room, drank while listening to Davido, and laughed like we always did.

Then Shola jumped onto the bed.

She suddenly collapsed.

Her mother rushed in, and everything became chaos. She blamed me and the alcohol for what had happened. She told me never to return to their house.

I left that day carrying the remaining bottle of wine, confused and frightened.

I didn’t know that it would be the last time I saw my best friend for months.

Shola’s close friend Ali tried to explain what had happened. He told me that Shola had been taken secretly to America for heart surgery because doctors had discovered a hole in her heart.

I doubted him.

But Ali had always seemed trustworthy. We attended the same university, and he had been there for me before.

What I didn’t know was that Ali and I had our own secret.

We were friends with benefits.

Shola knew nothing about it because Ali had begged me to keep it from her. He repeatedly promised that one day we would become a proper couple. I believed him.

Then, after we were together one evening, he looked at me and said, “Elizabeth… I love you.”

Those words stayed with me.

I loved him too.

I just wasn’t brave enough to say it.

A few days later, I met a man named Kola at the supermarket. He was older than me, around twenty-seven, confident and well-spoken. He offered to pay for my groceries, which came to ₦14,550.

I was cautious, but I eventually gave him my number.

At home, life continued as normal. My mother was a school principal, my father was protective, and my three brothers—Michael, Ade and Dotun—each had their own personalities.

Dotun was the one I was closest to. He was intelligent, protective and always looking out for me.

When I told my parents I wanted to visit Shola’s house, Dotun insisted on coming with me.

At Shola’s home, we were told that Shola and most of her family had travelled. Her older brother Pelumi appeared and confirmed that Shola had gone to America for heart surgery.

He also asked for my number so he could update me.

Something about him made Dotun uncomfortable.

I ignored the feeling.

I shouldn’t have.

A few days later, Ali invited me to a party. I had already decided that I would tell him I wanted our relationship to become public.

At the party, I finally confronted him.

“I don’t want to hide anymore,” I said. “I want us to be together properly. I want my family to know. I want Shola to know. I don’t want to pretend anymore.”

Ali said he was putting things in place.

I told him that if he wasn’t serious, I would leave.

He had been drinking.

When I tried to walk away, something changed in him. He grabbed my arms and became aggressive. I fought to free myself until his cousin Niyi and two other men pulled him away.

I left shaken.

That was the first time I saw the side of Ali I had refused to believe existed.

I told myself alcohol had caused it.

I was wrong.

Kola continued talking to me, and after several outings, he asked me to be his girlfriend.

I said yes.

He treated me well. He took me to restaurants and the mall, introduced me to his friends and gave me a bracelet. When I told him I wasn’t ready for sex, he respected my decision.

For the first time, I wondered whether I had finally found someone trustworthy.

Then Ali called.

He said he was sick and asked me to visit him.

I went.

His brother opened the door and told me Ali was upstairs. I found him lying on the bed, shivering.

“Lock the door,” he said.

I did.

When I turned around, Ali was standing...