Wetin concern me concern party? I no even sabi the people wey invite me. But you see that my friend Bella? She too dey do pass herself. Na she drag me go that yeye birthday wey sp0il my life…
My name is Tina, and if you’re reading this… just know: never let peer pressure pick your life decisions. Because your life go pressure you back with tears.
Let me start from the beginning.
I was just 16.
A quiet, decent, reserved girl.
My mother had already warned me:
"You see all those Bella and Ada, avoid them like SARS. Na bad influence dem be.”
But noooo, me I get coconut head.
Bella was my bestie. We met in school when she borrowed my pencil in JSS1 and never returned it. That’s how the friendship started...with deceit.
Fast-forward to SS2. We were still friends. But Bella had changed. Big time.
Fake lashes.
Crop tops.
Snapchat filters.
New slang every week.
And “talking stage” with like four boys at once.
Meanwhile me, I was still tying scarf and doing “praise and worship” in morning assembly.
One day, Bella burst into class:
“Tina! My plug’s guy’s cousin dey do birthday for mainland this Friday. Invitation strictly coded ooo! Let’s go joor, wear that your yellow top wey show your small cleavage...make boys see say you don dey ripe small!”
I refused at first. But she kept pressing me.
“You no wan flex small? Abeg rest. This life no get duplicate. Just small birthday, we go come back quick. Or you wan dey dull forever?”
Peer pressure pressed me like bra.
I agreed.
We got there, and omo!
The house was like inside Netflix movie.
LED lights, drinks, loud music, fine boys with beards looking like they came from Lekki directly.
Bella vanished within minutes with some guy wearing chain like transformer.
Me? I just stood by the wall like side mirror.
That’s when this guy offered me a red cup.
“Relax na… just one sip. It won’t kíll you. It’s not even strong.”
I hesitated.
“No be alcohol?”
“It’s mix na… small Zobo, small Sprite, small spirit. Just vibes.”
Zobo, Sprite and spirit?
I should’ve known it was the dévil’s cocktail.
I took one sip.
BLANK.
Next thing, I woke up in a stranger’s room.
My bra was on the floor. My jeans were halfway off.
And my head felt like generator wey no get oil.
Tears rolled down my eyes.
On the table, I saw a note:
“Sorry. You were too fine. I couldn’t resist. Forgive me.”
No name. No number. No face.
Just a hangover, bruises, and shame.
MONDAY MORNING
I walked into school and felt every eye on me.
Whispers everywhere.
“Na she wey drunk pass…”
“Dem say she climb table dey dance…”
“I hear say she even nack one guy inside toilet…”
My whole body diéd.
When I asked Bella what happened, she laughed:
“My dear, na normal. You no sabi flex. You too stiff. Loosen up small, enjoy your life!”
Enjoy ke?
When I just became a victim of ràpé and bétrayal?
WEEKS LATER
My period went on break like ASUU.
I thought it was stress.
Or spiritual attack.
I started praying: “Blood of Jesus, flow now!”
But the bl0od refused to flow. Instead, I kept vomiting.
I bought a strip.
Two lines.
Not one.
TWO.
I screamed.
I cried.
I fàinted.
I was pregnant.
Bella told people before I even got home.
In school, I was now “Mama baby”.
Some girls laughed.
Some teachers pitied me.
But one person shocked me the most...my own boyfriend (yes, I had small crush on one boy like that, Femi).
He came to me and shouted:
“You this girl! You sleep around and now you wan dump baby on me?? I never even hold your hand before, and you wan rope me? Nonsense!”
Femi dúmped me in public. Like dustbin.
Heartbreak joined pregnancy.
Telling my mother was the final bomb.
I tried to explain, but before I could say anything...
GBOSAAA!!!
She gave me one slap that reset my Bluetooth.
“Pregnant??? Tina! I said don’t follow Bella! Don’t follow Ada! You followed them and see where you landed. Inside fornication and disgrace!”
That night, my mother didn’t sleep.
She sat outside the compound crying:
“God, is this how you’ll reward my fasting and prayers? Why didn’t you just take me instead?”
I almost swallowed rat poison.
BUT GUESS WHAT?
One small twist.
That party?
Someone secretly recorded everything.
And the clip started circulating online.
Guess who was in the video?
The birthday boy...a university student of 24 years old...and several of his friends… dragging girls into the back room.
It became a police case.
Bella disappeared.
The guy who ràpéd me got arrested.
I became the face of an NGO campaign about teenage pregnancy, date ràpé, and peer pressure.
I gave birth to a bouncing baby boy.
Named him “Nathaniel” ...Gift from God.
I returned to school. Wrote WAEC with my baby strapped on my back.
Today, I’m a 300-level medical student.
My story? My weapon.
Say NO when you feel pressured. It’s okay to stand alone.
One sip can ruin your entire destiny.
Trust your instincts. Not every “vibe” is safe.
Pregnancy is not the end. Your life is not over.
Some friends are agents of destruction in makeup and wigs.
If you have a daughter, niece, or teenage girl...share this story.
Let them know the truth.
Let them read the pain before they drink it.
Let them see the scars before they enter the fire.
Because one party can destroy a destiny.
© Chidinma Lynda Abayomi
√ Due To Demand