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I wanted to write a story about long-distance relationships and how people navigate them when I came across *Gboye (46), who passionately said he would never recommend a long-distance relationship because of his own experience with one. 

In this story, *Gboye shares how he trusted his then-girlfriend wholeheartedly when he moved abroad for a better life, the brutal shock he got when he tried to surprise her, and how it has affected his relationships moving forward.

This is *Gboye’s story, as told to Betty:

I met Christie* in 2004 at a friend’s house in Ibadan. Our chemistry was instant, and I decided there and then that I wanted to marry her. Three months later, we made it official and began dating. 

By September, our families had met; everyone knew we were in it for the long haul. Our relationship was amazing. We spent as much time as we could together, and we shared everything. She was my closest confidant.

Christie was a hairdresser. She completed her apprenticeship a few months into our relationship and started her own hairdressing salon in a small shop. I managed a small cyber cafe during the day and fixed electronics in my neighbourhood for extra cash. We were hard workers, but we didn’t make a lot of money. 

During one of our discussions in 2005, Christie encouraged me to go abroad for greener pastures so we could build something tangible for our future family. I liked the idea, but we didn’t have a lot of money. So, Christie and I started saving towards my emigration. 

The plan? I’d go to the UK, hustle, make money, return to Nigeria, marry her, and we’d move back together. It took us almost four years to save up the money, but in 2009, I got my UK visa and went off to create the life I dreamed of for Christie and me.

Life in the UK wasn’t easy at first, but I found my footing in cybersecurity and started making decent money. I never forgot Christie. I sent money home monthly for her upkeep, my parents, and even her parents. We stayed in touch often, sometimes every other day. We planned everything together.

One day in 2010, Christie suggested we build a house in Nigeria — something tangible to come home to. I loved the idea. Owning our own house in Nigeria meant we had a place if we came home for holidays. 

The following month, I started sending a larger chunk of my pay back home so Christie could buy the land and oversee the completion of our dream duplex. A few months later, I got a raise and sent even more money to upgrade Christie’s salon. She moved to a much bigger space, bought hair dryers, and hired her own apprentices. I also bought her a car because I just wanted the love of my life to be good.

It wasn’t easy, sha. The black tax, the weight of my dreams and the long-distance nature of my relationship. I won’t lie — I had a few flings while abroad. Long-distance is hard, and body no be firewood. But they were just that, flings. Everyone knew I had someone back home. Christie was the goal. I assumed Christie was also getting her needs met somewhere, but I didn’t mind because we’d be together soon anyway. It took four more years before I could return to Nigeria. 

Each month, Christie would send me photo updates of the duplex we were building, from the foundation to the upper deck to the roof. I was so pleased and proud of her competence. I switched jobs and got a big pay raise in 2014, so I decided to surprise the folks in Nigeria. That was where everything started to scatter.

I arrived in Nigeria without telling anyone, not even Christie. My best friend was the first to see me. He was happy but tense. When I asked why, he said, “You’ll understand when you see Christie.”

I didn’t think anything of what he said. I wanted to surprise him with the house Christie and I built, so I was excited. When we got to Christie’s shop, her apprentices obviously didn’t know me, so when I asked for her, they said, “Madam is at her house.”  

So, we went to Christie’s new apartment. My best friend was getting agitated, and I didn’t understand why. When we got to the apartment building, he didn’t hesitate. He walked right up to Christie’s door and barged in.

I ran after him to stop him, and what my eyes saw broke my heart. There was a man in Christie’s apartment wearing only his boxers and eating a huge plate of pounded yam. That image is burned into my brain.

I asked the guy who he was, and he confidently said he was Christie’s fiancé. I got angry and started yelling at him. Christie heard the noise from indoors and came out to the living room practically naked. She screamed when she saw me and ran back inside. She came back out and started begging me. 

I was heartbroken and angry, so I told her to give me the keys to my building and the location because I wanted to see my property. Christie started stammering. The “fiancé” also started looking like he wanted to run away. 

I quickly closed the door to prevent anyone from leaving and asked again for the building details. It was then that we discovered there was no building in my name. Christie had taken almost twenty million naira and squandered it on the foolish man I met at her house.

It turned out that Christie believed her lover was going to build the house and they would run away to a different country together, but he, in turn, defrauded her and did everything in his name only. The building, the travelling papers and even the car I paid for were all in his name. 

I broke down and started crying in her apartment. This was the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, and she was going to run away with all I had.

I called the police and had them both arrested. It took months to recover the house and the car; the rest I left to Christie. I didn’t want to have anything to do with her anymore. She and her family tried to beg me, but I couldn’t look at her without feeling like my heart was breaking all over again. I left Nigeria in 2015, and I haven’t looked back since.

I still try to keep up with Christie’s life even now, all these years later. My friends in Ibadan let me know what’s going on with her. She’s still unmarried. She’s back to hairdressing in a small salon. She lost the bigger space after she settled her legal debts.

I went on to get married in 2021 to a wonderful woman, and we have a kid, but the scar on my heart remains. I have serious trust issues that I can’t seem to resolve. I don’t trust anyone. Even if my wife tells me a white lie like “I’m on my way,” when she hasn’t left yet, it makes me shut down emotionally for days. 

I’m grateful for my wife, though. She is honest and accommodates my feelings. She knows what happened with Christie and tries to ease my doubts, but I can’t trust her fully. I’m grateful she understands and tries. But I miss the version of myself that existed before 2014.

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