The Price of an “A”: My Story of Harassment in University
It was my first week in university. I had no intention of dating, just wanted to study, mind my business, and maybe play some badminton. Then I met him. He was unremarkable, just a skinny guy I chatted with at the bank while waiting in line. The next day, he walked into my classroom as the lecturer. What started as a casual friendship soon spiraled into something darker. And when I refused to play his game, he weaponized the one thing he had control over, my grades.
The Man Next Door: A Passport, A Benz, and Broken Illusions
From my verandah upstairs, I watched the parade, girls sneaking in and out of his flat, some washing his clothes, others arriving with soup ingredients. To them, he was more than a flashy neighbor. He was hope. A passport. A ticket out. But even as a young girl, I knew his story didn’t add up. I knew something was off. And the day the drug agents stormed his compound, the street held its breath, but I wasn’t surprised. I had seen it coming
