I’m just a broke university student hustling through life in Kawempe, Kampala. For two solid years I thought Alice was my ride-or-die. We had inside jokes, late-night matatu rides, dreamy talks about getting a small place in Ntinda one day—everything felt real.
Then the little things started eating at me. She’d silence her phone the second I walked in or suddenly “lose signal” when we were meant to talk. Some nights she’d come back smelling like someone else’s perfume, give me one-word answers, and roll over like I was a stranger. I kept telling myself I was paranoid—uni stress, right? But the lies kept piling up.
I’d ask straight up, and she’d hit me with the classic “you’re overthinking” or “why don’t you trust me?” line. My boys noticed too; even they were like, “Bro, something’s off,” but nobody had proof. I felt stuck, angry, and honestly kind of stupid for still loving her. I just wanted the truth—no more guessing games, no more pretending everything was fine when my stomach was in knots every single day. Continue Reading https://drbokko.com/?p=34838
