Back in 2016, when we had just finished university, a friend and I went to MCA to visit another friend and, of course, appreciate a few baddies. We did not call them “baddies” back then. It was a weekend, and while we were drinking the usual rough spirits, a story was told to us. I still remember this day as if it was yesterday. One of the guys there was dating a girl from Naperi. The story was that a few months earlier, he had met her at Ginnery Corner. She was from Naperi and, judging from the photos we saw, she was stunning. That day, he walked her home past Queens, past the College of Medicine, and all the way to Naperi. He fell for her completely.
But those who knew her warned him that she was a no go zone. They told him that the precious fruit between her legs had already been tasted by many. Still, he was smitten and wanted to date her and eventually marry her. Still, because the rumours were so widespread, he confronted her. In response, she took him to her church, to a famous man of God in Blantyre, and confessed before him that her past had indeed been sinful, but that she had seen the Lord at Calvary and was now a changed person. With the pastor’s blessing, he continued dating her.
That was the story before us. We all laughed at him and thought he was a fool. “Bro, leave her. They don’t change!” we told him. He never listened. But we were all young in our early twenties and naive.
A few years later, I saw on Facebook that he had married her. Then, about two years ago, I heard they had divorced because, as many had predicted, she had been unfaithful multiple times. (Apparently, she had been caught sleeping with her gym instructor, her ex boyfriend, and even some shadow MP. At least those who she accepted when confronted. Others she denied). As if that was not enough, I heard that a DNA test on his firstborn had excluded him as the father. By chance, I met him at Amaryllis last month. The moment he saw me, he laughed and said, “Hide my ID, Mr P. I have a story for you.” He then narrated the whole saga while laughing throughout. To be honest, I felt relieved because it meant I could laugh about it too.
When we are young, we make many mistakes because we think we know better. Sometimes life teaches us lessons the hard way. The moral of the story is this: most people do not really change. They simply become better at hiding who they have always been!