Ghost of stalkers past

Due to popular demand (6 votes), I shall now bestow upon you all my stories of stalkers past. In a non-sequential order but rather in order of ickyness with of course the ickiest being the last (brace yourselves). I’ll try and make this a 3 part series for the next couple of weeks. As always, I hope you enjoy my woes


Part I: Neighbourhood watcher

The most annoying and least disturbing one happened half a decade ago. I had finally grow small breast and as such I begun attracting the attention of the street men of Lagos with their “Hello Diamond Princess “ greetings.

And so it happened that till SS2, my mother insisted that I take the school bus to school. Mind you, my school was a fair walking distance, N50 by keke , N100 by Okada but no, my mother chose to humiliate me in the prime pf my secondary school life.

I would  be sitting on my own in the bus and JS1 and 2 students would start talking to me as if we are guys and when we get to school they continued this their rubbish behaviour. Utter humiliation but I digress.

So anyways, taking the bus essentially meant you had a fairly predictable routine. Bus picks you up at a certain time and drops you off at a certain time everyday.

As I was enduring what we will call the “school bus fiasco”, some new neighbours moved into the block of flats beside our house and I used my big eyes to spy a particularly good looking young man amongst them. I was happy, but on a very lowkey because resting bitch-face never fails.

So this  young man’s name was Emmanuel, which I later found out. Stalkmmanuel. Too much?

One weekend like this, I was walking on my own from my friend’s house heading back home, Stalkmmanuel walks up to me and introduces himself and pulls the “I’m new around here, I hope we can be friends” card.  I was already eyeing him secretly and so normally I should have been happy but there was a problem.

His accent, guys! His accent!!! I mean, what? Falz who?

My brain was puking. I quickened my pace,  suddenly I needed to get home. Only for this boy to follow me to my gate basically harassing me for my “digits”.

I refused of course  and I swear I stood there refusing for close to 15 minutes. Remaining for him to follow me inside my Father’s house! He was really persisting.

So anyhow anyhow, I got into my house, believing I’d escaped. I get to my room and guess who is on the balcony of his house staring into my room


The next morning who is outside my gate when the school bus comes to get me?

Who is there when I get back from school?

Stalkmmanuel Stalkmmanuel!!!!

I swear to you this boy harassed me for weeks. Every morning and every evening. Standing at my gate asking for my number and blurting out stuff about himself. Like how he’s a dancer…

At some point he befriended my baby brother so he could find out stuff about me. He even found me on Facebook and kept sending “Hellos”.(This was where my dislike for Facebook started)  I swear I felt very unsafe.

But later on he went on some “Dance tour” and I never saw him again. And his Facebook hellos dwindled to a stop


4 Replies to “Ghost of stalkers past”

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