It felt like destiny. We were like two sides of a coin, sharing so much in common. He knew exactly what to say, how to say it, and when to say it. The attention he lavished on me felt like a dream come true. Deep down, I knew this boy could be my downfall, yet I still wanted him. I craved the attention and longed for a love that would sweep me off my feet.

I met him at a trade fair, one that happens once a year. He approached me, introducing himself as Femi, and expressed his desire for us to be friends. I should have run; I should have fled like Joseph did when Potiphar's wife made advances at him. But every girl, I suppose, must encounter her fair share of a Yoruba demon. His voice, his face, his physique—it was everything I ever wanted in a guy. He knew he was attractive, and I admired his confidence. We began talking, and I decided to give him a chance. It was my very first relationship. Perhaps I was insecure; it was the first time a boy as handsome as he was professed love for me, or perhaps it was all in my head, and he never meant it at all.

Femi...