THE ROAD TO ME

chapter 10

The next morning, Benedict came to take me to the compound. We arrived, and I was to stay in their room to avoid being caught. I was already uncomfortable with the way Benji acted, and I begged Benedict for a phone to make a call. I had my cousin’s contact saved in my jotter, so I called him. The sound of his voice made my heart race.

“Happy,” he said, “I’ve spoken with your father. The house is calm now. You can come back, but only if you’re ready to apologize and quit this career. I’m telling you this because he’s serious. He doesn’t want you involved in all this nonsense anymore.”

I could feel the tension in my chest. I wanted to go back, to fix things, but I knew it would mean giving up everything I had worked so hard for. My heart tugged in two directions, torn between family and my dreams.

“I’m not sure I can do that,” I said quietly.

“Think about it,” he replied. “You’re family. He’s still your father.”

I hung up the phone, staring at the walls. If this is the price I had to pay for choosing a career for myself, then so be it. I said a prayer to God, “Keep me alive, dear God, and please help me through.”

My eyes were burning from unshed tears, but I refused to let them fall. The decision was mine to make, but it felt impossible. How could I choose between the family I had always known and the person I was trying to become?

The next day, I wandered the streets, trying to clear my head. The familiar roads of Uyo seemed different now, as if everything I had once understood had shifted. I knew I couldn’t keep running. Eventually, I had to face my family, my father, and the consequences of my choices. But where would that leave me? Was I strong enough to continue down this path? Could I build a future in a world that didn’t want me, in a career that everyone seemed to despise?

As I sat at a hotel bar that afternoon, staring at the glass of dry gin in my hands, my first taste of alcohol, I made a promise to myself: I would make it. I would rise above this, no matter what. Whether I went home or stayed away, I would keep moving forward. My dreams were not just mine—they were a part of who I was, and no matter how hard the road became, I couldn’t let them go.

Suddenly, Benedict walked in. “Happy! I’ve been searching for you. You don’t leave home without telling anyone, please.” Then he noticed I was tipsy and decided to lodge me in the hotel instead of taking me home.

The next morning, I woke up to a pounding headache—my first hangover—and a deep sense of regret. Staring at the unfamiliar ceiling, I struggled to make sense of my choices. Benedict sat nearby, scrolling through his phone. When he noticed I was awake, he sighed and looked at me with concern.

“You’re stronger than this, Happy,” he said softly. “Drinking won’t solve anything.”

I nodded, ashamed. “I know. I just… I needed an escape, even if just for a moment.”

He handed me a bottle of water. “Escape is fine, but don’t lose yourself in the process. You’ve already come so far. Don’t let the struggles take away who you are.”

His words lingered in my mind as I prepared to leave the hotel. My circumstances hadn’t changed, but something inside me had shifted. If I wanted to survive, I needed a plan—a way to build my independence while staying true to my dreams.

Later that day, I made my way to the academy. Nancy had been distant, likely feeling guilty about her mother throwing me out. I approached her and said, “You did nothing wrong. If it were your house, I know you would have let me stay.”

Her face lit up, and relief washed over her. “I thought I’d lost you as a friend, Happy.”

We talked, and I explained everything that had happened—my lost phone, a night spent homeless, and my current living arrangement. Nancy was saddened by my struggles but happy I now had a place to stay.

After class, we walked home together. Nancy wanted to know where I was staying, but I made it clear she couldn’t visit me. “I’ll take you there someday, but not now,” I said.

On our way, a young man approached us and asked me out.

(Don’t think I won’t share this part—I’m committed to telling my story honestly.)

I told him, “I’m too young for a relationship.”

He asked for my number, and I explained I didn’t have a phone. He wasn’t wealthy

(—this wasn’t some Nigerian movie—this is my life story, make sure you don't judge me anyways, tell me where I went wrong and also learn from my mistakes).

Clemson persisted, and I declined, yet he followed us to the street where I lived.

“Please, you need to go back,” I told him.

“At least tell me where you live so I can visit,” he insisted.

“Visit? You’re not serious,” I said, laughing nervously.

He refused to leave, so I decided to stop by a nearby hotel instead of heading straight home. He followed me in, and we sat with Nancy. He offered to buy us drinks, which I accepted. We had a casual conversation until, unexpectedly, Benjamin walked in.

I froze, nervous, but Benjamin ignored me completely. The young man, Clemson, noticed my reaction and asked, “Who’s that?”

“My big brother,” I replied quickly.

After Clemson left, Nancy revealed she recognized Benjamin as Benedict’s twin. Both were former students of the Creative Media Arts Academy.

That evening, back at the room, Benjamin acted as though nothing had happened. He didn’t ask about Clemson or why I’d been at the hotel. Instead, he was friendly, almost playful, which left me confused.

The next day, while Benedict was at work, I asked Benjamin why he had pretended not to know me.

“Was I supposed to confront you in front of your friends?” he replied. “No one knows you stay with us. Outside this house, we’re strangers. Remember that.”

His words stung, but I let it go.

Weeks passed, and things seemed normal until one evening when Benjamin shocked me by asking me to be his girlfriend.

“What? I can’t,” I replied, stunned.

“Why not? Because of that poor guy, Clemson?” he asked sarcastically.

“Clemson isn’t my boyfriend,” I retorted. “We’re just friends.”

Benjamin smirked. “He’s always around, buying you food. He’s waiting for you to turn 20. I overheard you two discussing it at the bar once.” "Anyways, I don't want anything serious, I need a girl I can just have fun with and trust me you'll always enjoy it, I will take good care of you and make sure you lack nothing".

His words irritated me. “I don’t want a relationship, Benjamin, and especially not with you. If you need some girls to do trade by barter with, you can check the street for a slut; I’m not one. If I ever date someone, it will be out of love, not convenience.”

Since that day, Benjamin and I have barely spoken. Benedict noticed and asked what was wrong between us. I confided in him, and he promised to confront Benjamin.

The next day, their argument escalated into a heated exchange. I dressed up to leave the house, hoping to avoid the chaos, but I overheard Benjamin say, “We’re the ones losing here. How could we accommodate her, and none of us date her? And she’s seeing someone else outside!”

“What do you mean by ‘seeing someone else?’” Benedict asked, his voice rising.

Benjamin mentioned Clemson, and Benedict admitted he’d planned to ask me out as well. Furious, Benjamin accused him of only wanting me for fun, not love.

I couldn’t listen anymore. I stepped into the room, pretending I’d heard nothing, and announced, “I’m leaving.”

That evening, I met Clemson at his shop. Seeing my distress, he asked what was wrong. Unable to hold back, I told him everything. He listened patiently before saying, “Happy, you can stay with me. It’s not safe for you there anymore.”

Clemson’s kindness brought me to tears. Reluctantly, I agreed.

When I returned to pack my belongings, Benjamin tried to stop me, calling Benedict for backup. The confrontation turned physical, and I was left shaken.

Benjamin overpowered me and did the unthinkable—he r***d me.

I was not a virgin though, I lost it when I was 18, to the man I loved who later left me for my cousin sister. I promise myself I won't let any man deceive me again after the experience I had that led to me losing my virginity. But now, someone just r**e me. I lay on that bed crying bitterly.

When Benedict finally arrived, he didn't even notice how broken I was, he continued with the anger of the news that I was leaving.

I struggled to find the words to explain what had happened, but when Benedict confronted me, I broke down.

“Benjamin forced himself on me,” I cried. “Is this what you both wanted?”

Benedict’s face twisted with rage as he turned on his twin. Benjamin didn’t fight back, muttering apologies through tears, but no amount of sorry could amend what had just happened.

That evening, I left the house and moved in with Clemson.