She Was Not Human

She Was Not Human: How Love, Betrayal, and the River Spirits Broke and Rebuilt My Life

My name is Victor.

I am thirty one years old, from Lagos, Nigeria. I am not a pastor, not a native doctor, not a storyteller looking for attention. I am just a man who made decisions without understanding the weight of them. I am writing this so that young men will slow down, think deeply, and never allow emotions to blind them the way mine blinded me.

What happened to me sounds like something from a movie. But this is my life.

It began with a girl named Blessing.

I met Blessing on a quiet evening in Surulere. I had just finished a business meeting and stopped by a small restaurant to eat. She was sitting alone at the far end of the place, staring at her phone. Something about her caught my attention. She was beautiful, but it was not just beauty. There was a calmness about her. A softness. She looked like someone who had suffered silently.

When our eyes met, she smiled.

That was how everything started.

We began talking. She told me she was an orphan. She said her parents died when she was young and she had no real family. She spoke slowly, as if every word carried pain. I felt my heart melt. I have always had a weakness for people who seem lonely. I promised myself that no woman close to me would ever feel abandoned.

Within weeks, I was deeply attached.

Looking back now, I realize how foolish I was. I did not investigate. I did not ask serious questions. I did not meet any relative or friend of hers. I did not even know her real background. All I knew was what she told me.

She said she was staying temporarily with a woman I knew casually through business. That gave me a false sense of security.

Blessing never visited my house. Not once.

Whenever we wanted to see each other, we met outside. Restaurants. Cinemas. Beaches. After spending time together, we would go our separate ways. I bought her gifts. Paid for things she needed. Sent her money whenever she said she was struggling.

I never pressured her for intimacy. We never kissed. We never had sex. Somehow, I believed that made our relationship pure and different.

One evening, without truly thinking it through, I proposed to her.

There was no ring, no grand ceremony. Just words spoken from a place of emotion.

She looked at me with those deep eyes and asked softly, “Victor, what happens if you ever cheat on me?”

I laughed and said confidently, “If I ever cheat on you, everything I have should disappear.”

Those words were spoken casually.

I did not know I was signing a contract with my own mouth.

A few days after my proposal, her number stopped going through.

At first, I thought it was a network issue. Then I thought maybe her phone was bad. I waited. I sent messages. I tried calling from different lines. Nothing.

After more than a week, panic began to set in.

I went to the woman she claimed to be living with.

The woman looked confused when I asked about Blessing’s whereabouts.

“She left,” she said.

“Left where?”

“I don’t know. She was stranded when I met her months ago. I only helped her because I felt sorry for her. I don’t really know her.”

My heart began to beat fast.

How could someone I planned to marry disappear like smoke?

Months passed. No call. No message. No explanation.

At first, I feared she had been kidnapped. Then I feared she had died. Eventually, I accepted that she had simply vanished.

I tried to move on.

But something strange began to happen.

Whenever I met a new woman and things seemed promising, something would go wrong. Some would accept me happily at first, then suddenly call me days later, angry.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’re married?”

I would be shocked. “Married? To who?”

They would refuse to explain. Some blocked me immediately. Others warned me never to contact them again.

It happened repeatedly.

I began to question my sanity. Who was spreading such a lie? Who even knew me well enough to do that?

Business was still good at that time, so I tried to ignore it.

Then I met Gift.

It was at a friend’s birthday party in Lekki. She was lively, confident, and outspoken. Unlike Blessing, she was not mysterious. She liked attention and gave it freely.

That night, after too many drinks and too much conversation, I slept with her.

It was the first time since Blessing disappeared that I felt physically connected to another woman.

I woke up the next morning feeling normal.

Within one week, my life collapsed.

I lost a major contract that sustained my business. A shipment I had invested heavily in was seized due to sudden regulatory issues. My landlord informed me the building I used for my office had been sold and I needed to vacate immediately. My car developed a serious engine problem that cost more than half its value to repair.

At first, I thought it was coincidence.

Then my investors began pulling out.

Within months, I was finished.

I sold my car at a ridiculous price. I could not afford my house rent. I closed my business. The same friends who once praised me began avoiding my calls.

Hunger became real.

I returned to my village in Anambra State with only a small bag and shame in my heart.

For more than two years, I suffered.

No money. No connections. No progress.

I used a small Nokia phone because I could not afford a smartphone. I wore old clothes. People who once respected me now pitied me.

Depression became my daily companion.

One day, an old friend visited the village and saw my condition. After listening to my story, he insisted on taking me to a spiritual man.

I resisted at first. I am educated. I believe in God. But suffering humbles a man.

We traveled at night to see the spiritual man.

He listened quietly as I narrated everything.

After a long silence, he looked at me and said, “The woman you proposed to was not ordinary.”

My heart skipped.

“She is a powerful spiritual being,” he continued. “She came into your life with intention. When you proposed, you bound yourself to her. When you slept with another woman, you broke a covenant.”

He said she had returned to the Atlantic Ocean to rest, waiting for the right time to stay with me forever.

My body felt cold.

I remembered the words I spoke when I proposed. If I ever cheat on you, everything I have should disappear.

The spiritual man said, “Your own words became a spiritual decree.”

He told me the only way to attempt reconciliation was through a river ritual.

That night, he took me to a river. The darkness was thick. The air felt heavy.

He instructed me to kneel and apologize.

As I spoke, the water began to ripple strangely.

Then I saw her.

Blessing.

Standing on the surface of the water, dressed in white.

Her face was calm but her eyes were not the same.

“You misled your destiny,” she said. “Deep vision is meant for deep life. Misery and suffering are meant for stubborn mortals. I will never forgive you.”

She disappeared like mist.

The spiritual man shook his head.

“There is nothing more I can do,” he said.

I returned home broken.

Days later, I began hearing a voice in my sleep.

It spoke about the four Igbo market days: Eke, Orie, Afo, Nkwo.

The voice said only Orie Day could save me.

I was told I must find a woman born on Orie Day, who would willingly ask for forgiveness on my behalf, and that I must marry her to break the curse.

I thought I was losing my mind.

Months later, I met Adaola.

She was different from any woman I had ever known. Calm. Intelligent. Strong minded.

Whenever she visited me, good news followed. A small business opportunity. A random gift. Unexpected help.

One day, out of curiosity, I asked her date of birth.

August 16.

After checking carefully, I discovered it was an Orie Day.

My body shook.

Could this be real?

I slowly began to explain my story to her. She listened politely but did not fully believe in spiritual matters.

“I believe in God,” she said, “but not in these river spirit stories.”

I did not blame her.

One evening, desperate again, I went alone to a nearby river to beg for mercy. Nothing happened.

When I returned home, Adaola was waiting.

But something was different.

Her voice was deeper. Her eyes looked distant.

She began speaking words in a language I did not understand.

Then she looked at me and said calmly, “You have been stubborn.”

My heart nearly stopped.

She began revealing details about my past that I had never told her.

She instructed me to buy specific items and follow her to the river the next night.

At the river, she stood at the edge and called ancient names.

The water responded.

She declared her identity as one who walks between worlds.

She spoke to unseen forces and demanded my release.

After the ritual, she collapsed.

When she woke up, she remembered nothing.

From that week onward, my life slowly began to rebuild.

Small business opportunities returned. Money began to flow gradually. Peace returned to my mind.

Today, I am not as wealthy as I once was, but I am stable. I am wiser. I am careful.

I married Adaola.

I do not fully understand everything that happened. Maybe some will say it was spiritual. Others will say it was psychological. I only know what I experienced.

This is my warning to young men:

Do not rush into love without understanding who you are binding yourself to.

Do not speak careless words.

Do not promise what you do not fully understand.

And never ignore red flags simply because someone looks innocent.

Love is powerful.

Words are powerful.

And sometimes, the unseen world listens more closely than we think.