The doctor I met at the comment section of social media

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Going through my social media timeline sometime ago, I came across a post that said: “Comment the exact thing you want and anyone willing to help will reply to you.” I commented “Groceries” and a guy came to respond to my comment.

He asked: “How much?” Before I could finish with all my mental calculations, he was in my dm asking for my number to be able to send me MoMo.

I gave him my number and the friendship between us started. We were strangers not too long ago until we became two adults who spoke to each other every day.

Chats moved from Social media to Whatsapp. Chats graduated to calls and before we knew it, we were both laughing at each other’s jokes. 

We started learning to know each other. He asked questions and I answered.

He asked about the job I was doing and I told him I was unemployed. “I’m an unemployed lady with dreams. I know someday, I will get a job, buy my own car, and own a house of my choice.”

Because I mentioned a car, the conversation shifted a little to cars.

He asked about the kind of car I wanted. I told him. I asked him: “You’re a doctor so you have a car now, I guess.”

He said: “I own a Benz and Nissan Touareg.” “impressive,” I said in my head. 

He seemed quite passionate about his work. Every evening or when we got the chance to speak, he would talk about his patients he was treating. Most of them were sickle cell patients.

He would talk about their crisis and the things he had to do for them. Listening to him speak felt like I was speaking to Charles Odamtten Easmon (the first Ghanaian doctor to perform an open heart surgery).  He was very smart and intelligent.

When the conversation between us caught fire, I went back to Facebook to check his photos.

He was well built and always dressed decently like the doctor that he was. The only thing that was lacking was a smile. He never smiled in photos. “Maybe doctors don’t like to smile a lot, “ I thought. 

Two weeks later he proposed. I told him: “We just met. We need more time to know each other. We haven’t even met yet because you live in Takoradi and I live in Accra.

“Long-distance relationships need work and commitment. Let’s give it some time. It’s only through time that we can build the needed trust and assurance.”

He understood me. We continued talking. We made plans to meet but anytime we were close to the appointed time for our meeting, something would come up to put our plans in disarray.

I was about to sleep one day when his call came in. He told me: “I’ve been accused of embezzlement at the hospital that I work.

“The Medical Council is aware and had called me to come to Accra tomorrow morning. I will love it if you could go with me to meet the council.“ I said, “Why not? I’m only praying that in the end, you can put out a case to extricate yourself from whatever they are accusing you of.”

I’d always wanted to meet him but I never thought our first meeting was going to be under such circumstance. He told me, “I will pick you up from home so we go to the place together.” “Sure” I responded.

When I woke up the next morning and didn’t see his calls, my heart skipped beats. “What if he had been involved in an accident?” That was the first thing that came to mind considering his state of mind and the fact that he was driving all alone to Accra.

I called his phone and it was off. I waited for a while and called again. His phone was still off. I got worried. After calling for some time, I decided to go to the Medical Council office and wait for him there. 

I went there. I waited for several hours but he didn’t show up. I went in and asked the receptionist about him and she said his name did not ring a bell.

 I decided to wait for some more hours in the hopes that he would come around. He didn’t come and his phone was still off. Just when I decided to give up on him and go back home, I saw his call.

“I am sorry we couldn’t meet as planned. I came with my lawyer and the venue got changed. That left me with very little time to make any rounds. Sorry about that.” I was a little bit peeved but I said, “It’s fine. We can just meet up when you finish with everything.” I suggested.

He said: “That wouldn’t be possible. I have to travel back immediately to bring some documents to the Council.”

I was lost. I couldn’t wrap my head around what was happening. The whole excuse felt strange and wrong.

It didn’t make sense that he would come to Accra and not make any effort to see me considering all the fruitless plans we’ve hatched some weeks ago.  

“And he says he loves me? Yet, come to Accra and make no effort to see me?”

I went back home that day with a lot of questions on my mind. I couldn’t even sleep. At dawn when I was struggling to get the issue off my head and it wasn’t getting out, I said a prayer instead: “God, this has to make sense to you because it makes no sense at all to my human mind.”

In the morning as I sat there trying to find the head and the tail of all that was happening, I got a call. It was an unknown number but I picked it up anyway. It was a lady on the other end of the call.

She said: “I’ve had your number for some time now but haven’t been able to call you. You’re being lied to and I think I should let you know what the lies are.

“The guy you’ve been talking to isn’t a doctor as he wants to make you believe. He’s a distributor who rides around in ‘aboboyaa’ distributing water and drinks to some shops.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing in my ears. I asked: “You mean he’s not a doctor? Then how come he knows so much about his patients and their sickle cell conditions?”

She laughed and said: “If he knows about sickle cell patients it’s because he himself is a sickle patient. He visits the hospital a lot because he’s often in crisis.”

My jaw dropped to my chest: “Are you serious about what you are saying? How come you know all these?” I asked.

She answered: “I know because I’ve lived with him for the past two years. He’s my boyfriend. He goes about telling lies to woo innocent ladies.” Everything was happening too fast for me to follow along.

I found it hard to believe the girl but she said: “Wait, I will prove some things to you.” That day, she made me listen to their conversations on the phone while they were together in the house.

She did a conference call for me to listen to the lies the guy was spewing. Shock would be an understatement but I decided to move on, after all, nothing was lost and nothing was given away.

I made it a point not to speak to him again but he kept calling me. 

I picked one of his calls just to hear him lie again. He said: “If I told you I was a truck driver, would you have looked at my way?

“Would you have continued speaking to me? I am sorry that I lied to you about my profession but everything I feel for you is true. Let’s find a way to move past this.

“I know deep down that you love me too. That lady you spoke to is just one witch who won’t let me be. She’s responsible for my predicament and I am doing everything to get rid of her because it’s you I want.

“My parents don’t even support the idea of me and her together but you, they will love you.” I shook my head in disbelief. “You think I’m a fool?”

One day the lady told me they had gone to see his parents in preparation for marriage.

She said: “I’m not sure if I want to marry him. He’s a sickler, stingy, had a sore in his head that messed with his appearance, and worse of all he didn’t even believe in God.”

I asked: “So sis, why are you still with a man like that?” She said,  “He has his positives, you know? And he’s so good in bed.”

Some women and the weird things that make them stick around bad guys. I wished her luck and thanked God for revealing this to me and preventing me from entering such a relationship.