Moving On – Lamentations of a Village Girl


Peter oh Peter.

You were my first love back when I discovered these strange feelings most of us call infatuation or crush. Every time I saw you my eyes would light up and talking to you made me shiver all the way down to my feeble legs. I loved you.


My village boyfriend is now married to this petite lady and he seems happy. I joined campus and left you in the village. We talked constantly for the first semester and you promised to wait for me so we could get married after campus. I held on to the promise and rejected multiple offers because my eyes were set on our dream of sharing our lives together.

Second semester and you stopped texting or even calling. I got angry and dated this cute guy in our class briefly before I realized I still hadn’t moved on from you, my Peter. I came home for my holiday and our romance rekindled under the big tree near my home. I was happy having you back in my life and once more the promise was made.

She moved to our village. You commented on her beauty and I agreed to that fact. You claimed she was just a friend and I liked her too. She was constantly around you and we accepted her into our clique. You stopped coming to our usual meetings and instead took her dancing in our village pub. You started drinking and said I was too meek to not taste alcohol. She led you on and you experimented with the forbidden fruit.

Second year came and I left again. You promised to be faithful. She also promised to take good care of you in my absentia when you both hugged me at the bus stop. I left feeling happy. One week into books and no calls, no texts. I studied hard, made good friends and remained faithful. I trusted she was still taking care of you. I was your girl, oh Peter.


Holiday again and back to the village. No contact from you for months and I was still faithful. The first sight on alighting is a heavily pregnant lady going for her antenatal clinics. Am surprised but happy to see my friend again. You are trolling behind her carrying her handbag. You both hug me and five minutes of a joyful reunion follow. You tell me how much you have missed me and how much the village has been boring without me around. You deny fathering the child and I believe you.


My perfect man is back in my life and is happy. Nine months are over and she gives birth to a replica of you Peter. In fact, she claims to name the baby after your father. I’m shocked, I’m hurt and I’m mad. I leave the hospital room and go to our tree to wail. Everything is so clear now. You broke my trust Peter and I’m MOVING ON. I am moving on to a better me, a less trusting me.


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