From Kumasi to Sogakope to meet her and this happened


I was in Kumasi. She was in Sogakope. When love is involved, no distance is too far. Love obliterates the gap and sends your hands around the one you love as if you didn't live a Hundred kilometers apart. 

We spoke for one month. She was sweet and happy--happy to talk to me. When we had a video call she asked me to cut it or she wouldn't. When I asked why she answered, "There's a 'cut' and cuts make us bleed. I don't want you to bleed." 

That's how sweet she was to me each time we talked. So I proposed. She said yes. It was a Thursday. On Saturday, I was on a bus to Sogakope going to see her. 


I was going to spend Saturday and Sunday there. We would meet at the station, she would take me to a hotel, we would roam around town, check out interesting places, visit the night beach, spend half of the night together, and finally see her off at around 11 pm. 


It was such a great plan and I couldn't wait to go through with it. In the car, she sent me photos of herself in my hotel room. She put on the bathrobe and captioned it, "I wish you were here already." 


She was at the station waiting for me when I got there. We hugged. We held hands as she walked me to my hotel. Minutes later, we were out having lunch and talking about how rough the journey was. Just about twenty minutes into the lunch, she had a phone call. Right after the phone call, she told me, "My dad says I should come home. He wants to go out and leave my junior brother with me." I asked, "How long is that going to take?" She answered, "Immediately my dad returns, I'll rush to see you. I don't know how long but it wouldn't take forever."


It was 5 pm when she left. At 8 pm I sent her a message asking if she was coming anytime soon. She responded that her dad was on his way home and it wouldn't be long until I saw her. Two hours later, I called her line and it was off. I stayed up all night hoping she would come knocking. She didn't come. On Sunday morning I called. I sent a text. I walked in the neighborhood hoping I would see her around. I didn't. So around noon, I checked out of the hotel. On the bus coming back to Kumasi, I texted her; "I'm happy to have seen you and it's unfortunate things ended up the way they did. Maybe you didn't like me that much but that's OK. I'm not angry. We can still be friends." 


I slept on the bus. Hours later when I woke up, I saw her response to my message; "Thank you for coming all the way here to see me. It's unfortunate things didn't go according to plan. I'm sorry. I hope the next girl you meet makes you happy." 


As at the time I was reading the message, I'd been blocked. Going to meet her was a short distance. Going back home was the longest trip I'd been on. 


When I finally got to Kumasi and then to my room and later in my bed, I said to myself, "I'll tell this story to my son someday. I will tell him, "Son, don't walk a meter for a girl if you're not ready to have your heart broken. When you do and your heart is breaking, remember what I'm telling you today, and be ashamed for calling yourself my son. It's not fair for a dad and son to experience the same heartbreak twice."

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