THE FOOLISH GIRL

For nine long years, she stood by him—through laughter, tears, and countless promises of a future that seemed just within reach. Their love began innocently, with dreams whispered under the stars and plans made for “someday.” But time, as it often does, began to test their bond. Six times she conceived, and six times, they chose to end it. Each abortion left a deeper scar than the last—on her body, on his conscience, and on their trust. Yet they carried on, convincing themselves that love would one day heal what guilt had quietly broken. Then came the seventh pregnancy. This time, the man pleaded, “Please, let’s keep this one. I’ll take responsibility.” But she looked at him, still a student, still struggling, and saw no future she could lean on. Fear overshadowed love. Against his plea, she ended the pregnancy. That decision shattered something sacred between them. He felt betrayed—his chance to prove his manhood, his desire to be a father, his hope to build a home with her—all gone in one decision she made alone. Hurt and angry, he drifted away, and before long, another girl entered the picture. She became pregnant too—but unlike before, he didn’t hesitate. He married her. To him, it was redemption. To the first lady, it was heartbreak. She couldn’t understand how a man who once begged her to wait could so quickly choose someone else. She blamed him for wasting nine years of her life, for leaving her with regret, and for walking away when she thought love would finally win. But the question remains—whose fault is it really? Was it the man’s, for failing to take responsibility earlier, for allowing repeated abortions, for not providing stability or direction? Or was it the lady’s, for allowing love to blind her to reality, for agreeing to sin repeatedly, and for finally refusing when he was ready to commit? Maybe, just maybe, both of them share the blame. Love without wisdom becomes destruction wrapped in emotion. They both ignored the warning signs—years of pleasure without purpose, passion without planning, and choices made without thought of tomorrow. Now, both are left with scars: one with a marriage built on rebound, the other with memories that haunt her in silence. My people, let’s reason together. In matters of the heart, who truly wins when values are lost? Who do we blame when two lovers sow recklessly and reap pain? Perhaps this story isn’t just about fault—it’s a warning. When love is not guided by truth, patience, and responsibility, it becomes a slow tragedy. Every decision has a voice that echoes into the future. So before you love, learn. Before you promise, plan. Before you give your all, be sure it’s worth the cost. Because sometimes, what begins as romance ends as regret—and no one really wins.