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Men are scum: How I lost my relationship of 7 years

It was a sunny day in Lagos when he told me he didn’t want to be together anymore, after seven years. We used to dream about our future and did everything together. But that day, everything changed.

I felt shocked and sad. We had gone through tough timesโ€”family issues, job worriesโ€”but this breakup felt sudden and hard to understand. His words hurt, like a heavy weight on my heart.

After we split, I spent time thinking about our journey. Remembering our first dates in busy markets, and lazy weekends exploring Abuja’s parks. Each memory felt like a thread unraveling from a once-strong fabric. My friends tried to comfort me, but nothing could ease the pain.

To cope, I stuck to my usual routines: morning runs by Victoria Island and dinners enjoying Nigerian food. Each day was a struggle between holding onto the past and moving forward. Finding peace in familiar sights and sounds of Nigeriaโ€”the lively markets, Afrobeat music, and the comforting smell of local dishes.

As time passed, I found strength in unexpected places. I reconnected with old friends in Abuja and embraced the supportive spirit of Nigerian culture. I began to see our breakup not as an end, but as a chance to rediscover myself and look ahead.

Now, watching the sunset over Lagos Lagoon, I know healing takes time. The pain lingers, a reminder of our shared past, but I feel stronger. In Nigeria’s bustling cities, I’ve learned that endings can lead to new beginningsโ€”filled with hope, resilience, and the spirit that defines this country.

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