“I Fell in love with my Professor “”

🖤 Episode 1: The Lecture That Started It I didn’t plan to fall for him. Actually, I planned to hate him. New lecturer. New semester. New stress. I was already one bad grade away from crying in the hostel bathroom again, and here came Dr. Ayo Obasanjo tall, clean-shaven, black shirt rolled to the elbows, and a voice like smooth cement. “In this course, I will not spoon-feed you,” he said on Day One. “You either think… or you sink.” The class groaned. I rolled my eyes. He saw me. I swear, he saw me. There’s something about a man who doesn’t flinch when you meet his gaze. Dr. Obasanjo had that stillness that made people adjust their posture. His presence wasn’t loud — it was serious. Intentional. Like he knew why he was in the room and didn’t need to explain it. I hated that I noticed that. I hated that after class, I Googled him. Media & Gender Studies. PhD in South Africa. Wrote a paper titled “Masculinity, Control & Silence.” That one caught me. I read it twice. The next time I came to class, I wore lip gloss. Not for him. For me. Okay. A little for him. But I wasn’t the only one. He had that effect. The quiet girls sat straighter. The hot ones giggled too loudly. Even the guy that always played games on his laptop closed it when he entered. But Dr. Obasanjo wasn’t flirty. He taught with the calmness of someone who didn’t need to impress us. He quoted Chimamanda, Foucault, Tiwa Savage and Shakespeare in one class. I was stunned. Then came the moment. He posed a question: “Can power ever exist without desire?” Nobody raised their hand. My mouth opened before I could stop it. “Desire is power.” He paused. Looked at me. “Name?” “Zara.” “Hmm.” He smiled faintly. “Zara thinks desire is power. Noted.” The way he said my name? Like he was testing how it tasted in his mouth. That night, I couldn’t sleep. I stared at the ceiling fan, asking myself why my stomach did that tiny stupid flip. He was 34. I was 21. He was my lecturer. I told myself it was just an intellectual crush. The kind that dies quickly after a few hard tests. But deep down, I knew better. This wasn’t going to be harmless. This was a spark looking for fuel. And my heart? Already dry wood.