I WAS ONCE "THAT MUMU GUY"_BUT LIFE HAD BIGGER PLANS FOR ME- BY YUSHAB ABOLORE
Life didn’t end the day I called my ex and heard her friends laughing in the background:
"Is it that mumu guy calling you again?"
Yes. I was that “mumu guy.” The one who loved her deeply. The one who thought dating her was a trophy, a badge of honour.
Back in early 2016, before I even sat for WAEC or finished secondary school, I was already in love.
She was my classmate until she moved ahead of us, sat for her WAEC and JAMB while we were still in SS2, and gained admission into LASU. I was proud. Proud that I had a girlfriend already in university. To me, that was an achievement—something to brag about among friends.
One afternoon, instead of observing my Zuhur prayer, I decided to show off. I called her and put the phone on speaker so my friends could hear our sweet conversation. I wanted to pepper them, to prove that I wasn’t dating the same “secondary school babes” they were dating.
But life had other plans for that moment.
I called. She didn’t pick. I called again. Then it happened—clear as day, on loudspeaker for all to hear:
"Shey na that mumu guy dey call you again?"
The silence that followed was louder than laughter. My friends didn’t mock me aloud—but I could feel it. One tried to console me, but I knew the damage was done. That night, I told my mum. She comforted me the best way she could. But deep down, I was still that heartbroken, humiliated teenager.
Still, I kept dating her. I loved her—blindly. We barely saw each other. Looking back, how could I expect an undergraduate to proudly say she was dating a secondary school student?
Eventually, the truth hit me like a thunderbolt. She had moved on—started dating someone else in her school. I stumbled on their pictures on Instagram. I did the math. I was the fool. Jesus might have postponed his second coming just to give me time to realize how much I had been played.
But I didn’t give up. I decided to focus on my dreams. I wanted to gain admission into university too, to rise and show the world—maybe even her—that I could do it.
But life hit me again. My parents insisted I shouldn’t write JAMB until my WAEC result came out. That year slipped through my fingers. They enrolled me in an Arabic school instead. When I finally wrote JAMB the following year, I passed—but again, no admission. They didn’t want me to go to University of Ilorin because it was “too far.”
2019 came. I wrote JAMB again—not out of excitement but to prove I hadn’t given up. I chose OLABISI ONABANJO UNIVERSITY. But just before admissions began, my dad changed my plans again—this time, under the influence of another person's advice. He told me to switch to LASU.
I felt like my life wasn’t mine.
Still, I changed my institution to LASU. But LASU didn’t give me admission either—at least not immediately. Then came the news of the new Stream 2 program, with fees five times the regular cost. I didn’t care. I begged. I convinced my mum to help convince my dad. Eventually, they agreed.
In 2019, I gained admission into LASU to study English Language under the Stream 2 program. I thought we’d start classes right away—but no. LASU being LASU, we didn’t resume until February 10, 2020.
I blocked her from viewing my WhatsApp status any time I posted anything that showed I was now in LASU. I was still trying to protect myself—still haunted by the shame of the past.
But one day, I forgot to block her. She viewed my status and replied:
"Is this not Makanjuola Hall?"
I froze. Hours passed before I found the courage to respond. That night, we talked again after a long time. And then—like a scene from a movie—I discovered the truth:
She wasn’t even in LASU anymore. She had left for a private university.
All along, I had been running from a ghost. Hiding from a fear that no longer existed. That realization set me free.
From that day, I walked around LASU with my head held high. No more hiding. No more shame. I eventually became one of the big names that graduated from LASU. The same school that once felt like a battlefield became the place of my transformation.
And the most beautiful twist?
The girl whose admission once made me feel like a failure… didn’t even graduate from LASU. I did.
I graduated before her.
From the same school that once made me feel less.
That’s life.
Never let a single chapter define your entire book. Because you’re down today doesn’t mean you’ll stay there. The only way you remain down forever is if you never try to rise.
I was “that mumu guy.”
But now, I’m a graduate. A story. A testimony.
And above all, a reminder that life always balances the scales in the end—if you just keep going.
© YUSHAB ABOLORE AYOMIDE
- Nigeria
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