Tales of Farhan

His name was Farhan.

The year was 2019 and I was rounding up my Master's degree in Literature from the University of Ibadan. You would think I would be into my thesis, but alas I was head over heels in love with Farhan and "disserting" my thesis.

He was not just some man, he was my man, I loved him with all I had, even though it was not so much at that time😕, but we were happy. He was happy, I was happy. Farhan had these bright eyes and smile that always had me smiling sheepishly as though I was teenager. The butterflies in my stomach were unbearable anytime I caught a whiff of his scent.

How we met? We were supposed to be flatmates, he was hardly around, I was the constant. We went from looking for a house together to being in love and texting everyday for long hours, he was my 30 plus man. I was the joker, he was my king.

Our love rose to the peak, we were in the galaxies, but we both knew, we had an agreement, not that we spoke of it or wrote it down, or signed it, but we both knew that this was going to fail. Not because we didn't love each other enough, but because we loved too much to allow ourselves go through the stress of fighting family.

For both of us, family was everything. For our sanity we had to let go. Our love was pure, our love was kind, our love was everything love is supposed to be and more, but Farhan was a Muslim, his dad an Alfa, and I was a Christian, the daughter of an Evangelical Pastor. 

So we killed one of the best love stories that could have ever been written.

Ibi Divine Doo

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