I Thought He Wanted Directions… Turns Out He Wanted Honey

Dear Reader,

So there I was , minding my very uni-girl business, fresh out of an exam, wearing a big t-shirt, jeans, and not a single ounce of “please chase me” energy. But the universe said, “Let’s spice things up.” What followed was a chaotic mix of:

-A man in a car offering to “suck my honey”

-Me running like I trained for the Olympics

-A surprise appearance of his stuff (yes, that stuff)

-And me hiding in a boutique like it was the season finale of a thriller.

It sounds funny now. But in the moment? I was genuinely questioning all my life choices.

Now, let me take you on the journey of this chaotic experience. Don't forget to grab your popcorn because this real life story is now entertainment for you.

It started like any regular day. I had just finished an exam and was walking back to my off-campus hostel with a friend. It was a quiet street, slightly confusing to navigate , the kind where you’d expect someone to roll down their window and ask for directions. That’s what I thought was happening when a car pulled up beside us. Instead, the man leaned out and said, “Hello beautiful, can I suck your honey?”

I blinked and looked at my friend in confusion. I asked him what that even meant , maybe I misheard, maybe I misunderstood. He smiled like he was doing me a favour and replied, “I have money. We could go to a hotel. I’ll suck your boobs.” I hissed in disgust and just walked away. That should have been the end of it, right?

But no, this mad man started following us. Slowly at first, his car crawling beside us as he kept yelling, “I’ll take care of you! Just let me suck your honey!”

My friend and I sped up, trying to stay calm. I then spotted a small shop with people inside and ran in with my friend. We grabbed something random from a shelf just to make it look like we had a reason to be there. Eventually, he drove off.

"Thank God the crazy guy has gone", I said to my friend.

We thought that was it. But just a few steps ahead, he was there , parked at the corner of the street like he was waiting for us. This time, he got out of the car. He was across the road, but we tried to quickly rush past him.

And then…

He pulled down his trousers and started waving his thing in our direction.

We screamed. Loud. Unfiltered. "Jesus save me. Help me o Lord . Which kin craze man I don run into today" .

And then we ran. I ran more that I did when I was in secondary school and interested in athletics. If my coach could see me at that moment, he wouldn't have the guts to tell me I don't have stamina and talent now lol.

A girl got jokes😂

He jumped back into his car and started chasing us.

I don’t know what divine favour brought us to one of my male friends just then, but we ran into him and explained what was happening. He stood with us. And only then did the man finally drive off. We thanked my friend and continued walking, hearts still racing.

Two minutes later , this man reappeared again o. Wetin Musa no go see for gate.

I'm sure but I think I actually started crying . We dashed into a small boutique where they were selling okrika and sat there, pretending to be regular shoppers. I was acting like I was interested in that vintage trouser but deep down, I was scared. We waited for thirty whole minutes, just to be sure. Then finally, we ran back to our hostel.

When I got into my room, I wanted to cry. Not out of relief , but out of fear.

Was I really just harassed?

But I was wearing a big t-shirt and jeans. Surely no one can blame this on my outfit?

Was he drunk? Crazy? Just a predator?

So many questions. So much fear.

I kept asking myself: What if I was alone?

I laughed about it later because sometimes that’s what your brain does to survive but for weeks after that, I was paranoid. Every time I saw a car slow down beside me, I tensed.

I’m grateful nothing worse happened. But the truth is: it could have. And that’s what haunts me most.

We talk so much about being careful ,about what women wear , where they go. But the truth is: I was just existing. Just walking home.

The world isn’t scary because of the clothes we wear. It’s scary because too many men have learned that they can harass, harm, and traumatize and walk away without any consequence.

That day changed me.

It reminded me that survival as a woman often looks like running. Hiding. Laughing later to hide the shaking hands.

But I also learned that I’m not helpless.

I have my voice. My legs. My instinct. My power.

And I’ll never be ashamed of using all of them when I need to.

Okay bye,

Sonia.