I want to talk about something that affected my mental health and caused me so much emotional distress.

I have a friend I met during my university days. We were very close, and everything was going well between us. I called her my friend without hesitation because of what happened in Badagry in 2019. She stood by me fearlessly, without thinking about what the consequences might be. That experience meant a lot to me, and it made me trust her even more.

We became so close that everyone in her family knew me, and everyone in my family knew her too. I could comfortably stay at her sister’s house in Abuja for months, weeks or even longer. I also travelled to her hometown when one of her sisters was getting married.

For context, she has two elder sisters who are married. One lives in Abuja, while the other lives in Makurdi. Both have their own families and children.

On one occasion, while I was staying at her sister’s place in Abuja, we decided to visit their parents in Gboko. But before going to Gboko, we first travelled to Makurdi to visit her other sister. They welcomed us warmly. Her husband was a funny person who always teased us about the way we spoke French. After spending some days there, we all travelled to Gboko together.

I stayed in Gboko for a while before travelling alone to Enugu to spend time with my family. From Enugu, I later travelled to Lagos.

Some weeks or months later, I honestly can’t remember exactly when, I received a phone call from an unknown number one hot afternoon. To my surprise, it was my friend’s sister’s husband, the one from Makurdi.

I was shocked and wondered why he was calling me. He asked where I was, and I asked how he got my number. He told me that my friend had given it to him. I said okay and told him I was in Lagos.

He then told me he would be coming to Enugu in two days and that he would like us to stay together.

I was confused. I asked him what he meant by that and why he would even make such a suggestion to me. I also asked if he wasn’t ashamed or afraid to make such a request. I ended the call and immediately told my friend what had happened.

Her response was for me to ask him to send me transport money to come to Enugu.

When he called back, I told him there was a network problem earlier and explained that I was in Lagos but couldn’t come to Enugu because I didn’t have money for transportation. He asked how much I needed. I deliberately mentioned an amount higher than the actual transport fare, and surprisingly, he agreed to send it.

I gave him my friend’s account number, and he transferred the money. The money in question landed in her account. Immediately, I called my friend and told her that he had sent the money. She simply said okay and ended the call.

I don’t know exactly what happened afterwards, but I am certain she must have told her sister and possibly other members of the family.

This happened around 2021 or 2022.

Fast forward to early 2025. One morning, I was in the kitchen with my aunty, preparing lunch for her children to take to school, when I received a call from the sister who lives in Makurdi.

Her first question was, “Tell me the truth. Are you still in contact with my husband?”

I was so angry and disappointed. I couldn’t believe that someone would call me early in the morning to ask me such a question. I immediately called my friend to tell her what her sister had done and how uncomfortable and offended I felt.

But her response broke me.

She said, “If my sister asked you whether you are still in contact with her husband, that means you are still in contact with him.”

Those words shattered me. Tears rolled down my face. I couldn’t believe that someone I had trusted and considered a sister could think that way about me. After everything we had shared and everything we had been through together, I never expected that kind of response from her.

I decided to let it go until the man contacted me again. I had never even saved his number on my phone. Whenever he sent me messages, I ignored them. I never replied or entertained his conversations.

When he contacted me again, I took screenshots of the messages and sent everything to my friend. That was when she finally believed me that I was not in contact with her sister’s husband.

There was even a day I called the sister in Abuja and told her how angry I was. I told her that the next time her brother-in-law called my phone, I was going to insult him, and I honestly didn’t care how anyone would feel about it.

What hurt me most was not even what the man did.

She knew the truth. She was there from the start. The money in question landed in her account.

She just did not have the courage to say it to her own family.

I once called her my friend without hesitation.

I don’t anymore.

Friendship. Trust. Doubt. Realities.

Editor’s note: Names and identifying details in this diary have been changed to protect the privacy of the writer and everyone mentioned. Places are kept as she told them, because they are part of the story. The experience, in her own words, remains as she told it.