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By Adebanke Abel
For three weeks, I cried—should I even call it cry? No, I wailed! The type that comes from deep inside your chest. The kind that soaks your pillow and leaves your nose blocked till morning. My boyfriend didn’t call. He didn’t insult me. He didn’t even delete my number. He just pulled away quietly… And somehow, that silence felt louder than shouting. I would sit on the floor of my room, holding that small ring box he forgot on my shelf, whispering, “If only I didn’t take that money, maybe by now we’ll be planning a wedding. I'm not getting any younger—what have I done to myself?” I kept crying and dragging through each day like someone who had lost a child.
I was tired of staying alone with my thoughts.
All I did was cry and talk about how much I regretted not being able to take control of my life. I wasn't doing anything differently, and I knew it was madness to keep repeating the same things and expect a different result. The only thing I started doing differently was locking myself indoors. I thought that if I didn't get to mingle with people, I wouldn't have the opportunity to steal from them. But it wasn’t working, because I still had to work—and that meant talking to people.
All I did was cry and talk about how much I regretted not being able to take control of my life. I wasn't doing anything differently, and I knew it was madness to keep repeating the same things and expect a different result. The only thing I started doing differently was locking myself indoors. I thought that if I didn't get to mingle with people, I wouldn't have the opportunity to steal from them. But it wasn’t working, because I still had to work—and that meant talking to people.
I was close to losing my mind. Then I realized I needed to talk to someone about my predicament, if that would make me feel better. So, I reached out to someone I used to think was my friend. A friend I stood by when her boyfriend ditched her.
I didn’t tell her everything....just the part I was brave enough to say. How I’d been struggling with this habit since I was small. How I messed up again. How my boyfriend caught me. She said, “Ha! Titi, na wa o. But don’t worry, I won’t judge you.” I expected consolatory words from her, but no—that was all I got from the first person I had ever opened up to. I felt so bad. Later that evening, she posted on WhatsApp: “Some girls will wear fine wigs and carry iPhones, but deep down they’re still picking pockets. God abeg o.”
She didn’t tag me.
But I knew.
People like that don’t need to call your name before they disgrace you. I cried terribly when I stumbled on that status update. I couldn’t believe my eyes. What did I do to deserve such backstabbing? Without thinking twice, I blocked her straight. Then I switched off my phone for two days. I didn’t have strength for shame and fake sympathy.
I didn’t tell her everything....just the part I was brave enough to say. How I’d been struggling with this habit since I was small. How I messed up again. How my boyfriend caught me. She said, “Ha! Titi, na wa o. But don’t worry, I won’t judge you.” I expected consolatory words from her, but no—that was all I got from the first person I had ever opened up to. I felt so bad. Later that evening, she posted on WhatsApp: “Some girls will wear fine wigs and carry iPhones, but deep down they’re still picking pockets. God abeg o.”
She didn’t tag me.
But I knew.
People like that don’t need to call your name before they disgrace you. I cried terribly when I stumbled on that status update. I couldn’t believe my eyes. What did I do to deserve such backstabbing? Without thinking twice, I blocked her straight. Then I switched off my phone for two days. I didn’t have strength for shame and fake sympathy.
That night, I turned to the only place that didn’t ask me for anything—God. I didn’t pray loud. No tongues. No worship music. I just sat on the edge of my bed and cried. “God, please help me. I don’t know how I became like this. I don’t even know who I am anymore. You were there when Mummy used to send me to pick Daddy’s money. You saw it all. If truly You care about me, fix me.” That was all I said. But somehow, that night, I slept without crying.
Before you know it, work started to crash. I came late twice. Missed a big presentation. My boss called me in and said, Titi, what’s going on with you? This is not the girl I hired.” Before I could even think of how to explain, HR sent me a mail. I was suspended.
Three months.
No salary.
As I read the mail in my home later that day, I just dropped my phone, removed my wig, removed my bra, and lay flat on the floor.
“God, this one is too much. Are You still with me? Help me now before I finally lose it. I can't cope with this any longer. Why would You allow me to keep suffering for the choices my mother made for me? Help me now, God—I am getting weary.”
Three months.
No salary.
As I read the mail in my home later that day, I just dropped my phone, removed my wig, removed my bra, and lay flat on the floor.
“God, this one is too much. Are You still with me? Help me now before I finally lose it. I can't cope with this any longer. Why would You allow me to keep suffering for the choices my mother made for me? Help me now, God—I am getting weary.”
On Sunday, I went to a new church.
I wasn’t looking for miracles.
I just wanted to be in a place where nobody knew me or my mess.
After service, I was about to carry my bag and sneak out when one slim, soft-looking lady stopped me.
I wasn’t looking for miracles.
I just wanted to be in a place where nobody knew me or my mess.
After service, I was about to carry my bag and sneak out when one slim, soft-looking lady stopped me.
“Hi. Sorry, I hope I’m not disturbing you, but I just felt led to say hello.”
I forced a smile. “I’m fine.”
She smiled back. “I’m glad you are. If you don't mind, I’d like to have your contact. I don’t know why, but I feel so drawn to you.”
I didn’t know how to react to such niceness, but in order not to sound dismissive or disrespectful, I called out the numbers while she inputted them on her phone and dialed my line immediately.
“If you ever feel like talking to anyone about anything, please feel free to reach out to me. I’ll be readily available for you. By the way, my name is Aderola.”
“Titilope is the name,” I replied, with no iota of enthusiasm.
“I’m pleased to meet you,” Aderola smiled so beautifully, and I envied the kind of peace that hovered around her.
Instead of feeling pity for myself, I immediately excused myself and ran all the way to where I’d get a bus going to my area.
Aderola didn’t push. But every week, she would greet me. Check up on me.
Send small texts like: “Hope you’re okay.” Or, “Have a restful week, dear.” That small kindness started melting something in me. Then one Saturday, she invited me for a sisters’ hangout—just for the two of us. Just vibes, food, and gist. I didn’t want to go, but somehow, I went. I was afraid I might end up stealing what I had no need for. But to my surprise, nothing mischievous happened. And there—right between spooning rice and laughing at one aunty’s sponge wig—I broke down. I was overwhelmed. Tears. Confessions. The whole story.
From my parents' chaotic marriage,
To the day that changed my life,
To the guilt of pinning my stealing escapade on my innocent brother,
To the constant stealing spree that followed,
To several beatings, embarrassment, and disgrace from people who caught me,
To once escaping being burnt to death by tire,
To my boyfriend,
To the stolen money,
To the job suspension.
She truly listened.
No judgment.
No pity face.
She offered some soothing words that felt like balm to my soul.
Her sweet words relaxed my nerves, and the tears that had been falling dried on their own. Then she said, “My cousin is a therapist. She’s helped people with even harder stories. And she doesn’t charge much. I think you should let a professional walk you through this journey. God is already involved, but you need someone with years of experience to help you grow.”
I was afraid of opening up to a total stranger. I was skeptical, but I didn’t show it to her. I just collected the number. Saved it. But I didn’t call immediately. I didn’t know how to process the whole information—it sounded new and strange to me.
But that night, for the first time in a long time, I slept with my chest rising calmly.
Not because things were fine. But because maybe—just maybe—I was no longer alone. I had someone, somewhere, who was willing to walk me through this gruesome and embarrassing journey.
******
It'd been three weeks since I collected the therapist’s contact. I looked at it every morning like it was waiting for me to grow courage. But after a long thought I had about the matter, I resolved that I wouldn’t call or reach out to her. My reason for reaching that conclusion was not even clear to me—but if I’d be truthful to myself, I know it’s because I was afraid of hearing myself say those words out loud again. I steal sometimes. I am not proud of it. I don’t even know why I do it.
Since I had been suspended at work and my relationship had also been suspended indefinitely, I became easily bored. But Aderola was there—always checking up on me, praying for me, visiting me whenever her job permitted her. She never reprimanded me for not reaching out to her cousin. She rarely even asked about it. And I’m so glad she wasn’t petty about the issue as some other people would be. They would do something good for you and stay on your throat until you do what they want you to do—the day, the way, and the time they want.
I intensified my study of the scriptures and attended services more. I kept declining most of the invitations I was getting from friends, colleagues, and neighbours for weddings, birthdays, get-togethers, burials, etc. I didn’t trust myself not to steal from someone in such a large gathering again. I was literally living in fear of what I could and couldn’t do if I had the chance. Aderola tried on so many occasions to talk me into following her to Christian meetings, but attending church services was enough temptation on its own.
As the weeks sped by, I realized that my boyfriend, Richard, had not called or reached out to check on me or hear my progress report. I felt lonely, neglected, and unloved. That was so unusual of him. He couldn’t get over me in times past—he could not spend a day without hearing my voice. But now, it’s been over a month since we took a break, and he has not reached out. Even my texts and calls were ignored.
On a certain midnight, when my emotions were raging, I summoned all the courage to dial his number because I was too apprehensive to see him read my chat and not respond. I couldn’t believe my ears when he picked up on the third ring. Richie that I knew did not stay awake late into the night. He was an early sleeper and an early riser. So, what happened today that by 12:30 a.m., he was still awake? I guess I didn’t plan that he would pick up so fast. So, I hadn’t planned what I would say. I was quiet for a while, thinking about the first best thing to say. He also wasn’t saying anything. Without thinking twice, I blurted out, “Babe, I miss you.” He didn’t respond. My heartbeat quickened as I grappled for what to say next. As I opened my mouth to say the next foolish thing that came to mind, he spoke out. Oh my gosh! I didn’t realize how much I missed his voice—his cool, romantic baritone voice. It was always like music to my ears. My words caught in my throat as I listened to him speak.
“Babe… pardon, I mean Titi, what exactly happened to you? You’re such a beautiful woman with a good heart. How did you end up doing this? I had plans for us—great plans. We are not supposed to be where we are right now. The thought of what would have been if what happened didn’t happen, and how you are faring, keeps me up at night. I just can’t get you out of my head.”
Something turned in my stomach, and I loved the feeling. At least it felt good knowing that I still meant something to him after all.
“Before I bought the ring, I had already informed my mum that I would be introducing her to my fiancée very soon. But what happened scattered my plans, and she has been on my neck since, asking after her future daughter-in-law,'' he continued.
“The incident that happened at my house and the break we took afforded me the time to do my findings, and I realized that that day was not the first time you’d stolen from me…”
My throat went dry immediately I heard this, and tears gathered in my eyes.
“I’m not saying any of this to make you feel good or bad. I’m just baring my heart out. I shouldn’t have picked your call, but it’s been long since I heard your voice. So… that’s just by the way. Titi, everything you’ve taken from me are things you can buy by yourself. They are not that expensive or precious, so I don’t know why you’ve chosen to do that to me.”
“I don’t know…” I began to say, but he cut me off with his next statement.
“I have been planning to return the ring to where I bought it before I realized that I forgot it at your place the night I confronted you… because I don’t know the future of this relationship.”
My heart broke into a thousand pieces as I heard this.
“I have been praying for you, my dear. It was your thought that kept me awake all night, and I have been praying for you every day. My prayers will amount to nothing if you are not ready to put in the work and make yourself better. You and I can pray about this situation, but you must also heal. Seek counsel. Don’t walk alone.”
“I don’t want to walk this journey with you because I don’t want to mess with your emotions when you need to fully focus on yourself. This time is crucial for you, and I want you to maximize it. So, I’ll be going off radar until God tells me to reach out to you again. And if He does not instruct me to, then that means this will be the last time you’ll be hearing from me.”
“Don’t bother to reach out to me because it won’t go through. Your friend, Danielle, informed me about your suspension. I am sorry about that.”
“She is not my friend. I hate her,” I snapped as tears flowed freely from my eyes.
He went mute.
“Richie, I know I don’t deserve the kind of fair treatment you are giving me now. You still speak kindly to me even when I’ve proved beyond reasonable doubts that I can’t be trusted. Thank you so much for this. Even though it’s a hard decision you’re making for yourself and for me, I know that it’s what is recommended at this time. But for the record, Danielle is not my friend. I trusted her with my secret and she bared it out openly. That is not what friends do to each other.”
I stopped to catch my breath.
“Thank you so much for picking my call. I really needed to hear your voice. Thank you for also praying for me—I will never take it for granted.”
“Tee…,'' he began, then stopped abruptly. I noticed that he was fighting with himself and his emotions. He wanted to stop calling me endearing names like the one he just used, but his feelings were getting ahead of him at times. And I felt so bad for putting him in that situation.
“Titi, please just make sure you are fine. Go hard on yourself and become better for you. Don’t be discouraged by what people like Danielle will say. They must come in one form or another to stop you from doing what you ought to do, but you need to build a tough skin and be dogged about your life.”
“What brought you to this point might have been out of your control, but what you’ll end up becoming is totally in your hands. Start shaping your life in the direction you want now.”
I kept nodding as he spoke, as if he could see me. I felt totally refreshed and re-energized listening to him. This is one of the things I miss about him—he is a teacher and a great motivator.
I heard him take a long deep breath before saying,
“Goodbye, my Tee. Don’t bother to reach out.” And with that, the line went dead.
I burst into another round of fresh tears. Now, it wasn’t from regret or my past mistakes, but from how much I love and miss Richard. He still remained faithful and supportive, even when he was hurting. This special love he has for me will push me hard to work on myself—to become better for me. Because, if someone I hurt can have so much trust in me, why won’t I look beyond my current state, see what they are seeing, and start working toward making that a reality? I made my decision at that spot, amidst tears, that I would call the therapist the next day, book an appointment, and go for it—no matter how scary facing my past and digging into it may look. I know healing is not a destination but a journey. But no matter how daunting it is, I am ready to take a leap of faith.
I was tired of hiding.
I was tired of feeling helpless.
I was tired of being a thief.
Now, I want to rewrite my story.
“Before I bought the ring, I had already informed my mum that I would be introducing her to my fiancée very soon. But what happened scattered my plans, and she has been on my neck since, asking after her future daughter-in-law,'' he continued.
“The incident that happened at my house and the break we took afforded me the time to do my findings, and I realized that that day was not the first time you’d stolen from me…”
My throat went dry immediately I heard this, and tears gathered in my eyes.
“I’m not saying any of this to make you feel good or bad. I’m just baring my heart out. I shouldn’t have picked your call, but it’s been long since I heard your voice. So… that’s just by the way. Titi, everything you’ve taken from me are things you can buy by yourself. They are not that expensive or precious, so I don’t know why you’ve chosen to do that to me.”
“I don’t know…” I began to say, but he cut me off with his next statement.
“I have been planning to return the ring to where I bought it before I realized that I forgot it at your place the night I confronted you… because I don’t know the future of this relationship.”
My heart broke into a thousand pieces as I heard this.
“I have been praying for you, my dear. It was your thought that kept me awake all night, and I have been praying for you every day. My prayers will amount to nothing if you are not ready to put in the work and make yourself better. You and I can pray about this situation, but you must also heal. Seek counsel. Don’t walk alone.”
“I don’t want to walk this journey with you because I don’t want to mess with your emotions when you need to fully focus on yourself. This time is crucial for you, and I want you to maximize it. So, I’ll be going off radar until God tells me to reach out to you again. And if He does not instruct me to, then that means this will be the last time you’ll be hearing from me.”
“Don’t bother to reach out to me because it won’t go through. Your friend, Danielle, informed me about your suspension. I am sorry about that.”
“She is not my friend. I hate her,” I snapped as tears flowed freely from my eyes.
He went mute.
“Richie, I know I don’t deserve the kind of fair treatment you are giving me now. You still speak kindly to me even when I’ve proved beyond reasonable doubts that I can’t be trusted. Thank you so much for this. Even though it’s a hard decision you’re making for yourself and for me, I know that it’s what is recommended at this time. But for the record, Danielle is not my friend. I trusted her with my secret and she bared it out openly. That is not what friends do to each other.”
I stopped to catch my breath.
“Thank you so much for picking my call. I really needed to hear your voice. Thank you for also praying for me—I will never take it for granted.”
“Tee…,'' he began, then stopped abruptly. I noticed that he was fighting with himself and his emotions. He wanted to stop calling me endearing names like the one he just used, but his feelings were getting ahead of him at times. And I felt so bad for putting him in that situation.
“Titi, please just make sure you are fine. Go hard on yourself and become better for you. Don’t be discouraged by what people like Danielle will say. They must come in one form or another to stop you from doing what you ought to do, but you need to build a tough skin and be dogged about your life.”
“What brought you to this point might have been out of your control, but what you’ll end up becoming is totally in your hands. Start shaping your life in the direction you want now.”
I kept nodding as he spoke, as if he could see me. I felt totally refreshed and re-energized listening to him. This is one of the things I miss about him—he is a teacher and a great motivator.
I heard him take a long deep breath before saying,
“Goodbye, my Tee. Don’t bother to reach out.” And with that, the line went dead.
I burst into another round of fresh tears. Now, it wasn’t from regret or my past mistakes, but from how much I love and miss Richard. He still remained faithful and supportive, even when he was hurting. This special love he has for me will push me hard to work on myself—to become better for me. Because, if someone I hurt can have so much trust in me, why won’t I look beyond my current state, see what they are seeing, and start working toward making that a reality? I made my decision at that spot, amidst tears, that I would call the therapist the next day, book an appointment, and go for it—no matter how scary facing my past and digging into it may look. I know healing is not a destination but a journey. But no matter how daunting it is, I am ready to take a leap of faith.
I was tired of hiding.
I was tired of feeling helpless.
I was tired of being a thief.
Now, I want to rewrite my story.
