
Once upon a time. There is a girl named Amara, and her life changed forever when she was just 17. At this time, she was in Senior Secondary School 2 at Brighter Path College, one of the top schools in my area. To most people, she was a quiet, reserved girl who kept to herself. But deep inside, she carried years of silent pain.
Her parents departed when she was 12. Since then, she had been living with her uncle and his wife. While her uncle tried in his own way to care for her, his wife made it clear she wasn’t welcome. She would yell at her constantly, interrupt her studies to send her on errands, and always remind her bitterly, “You’re not my responsibility.”
She barely spoke to anyone at school. She only had one real friend, Janet, who would often share her food with during break. The only place she felt a bit of peace was in English class. Their teacher, Mr. Daniel, treated her like she mattered.
Mr. Daniel was young, charismatic, and admired by both students and staff. Every girl in school admired him. But I never imagined he’d notice someone like amara—just an ordinary girl with dusty sandals and no fancy hair or makeup. Amara use to walked to school every day and owned just two worn-out uniforms.
One afternoon, after she turned in an essay, he asked amara to stay behind. Her heart pounded. Amara thought she had done something wrong.
But instead, he smiled gently. “Amara, did you really write this yourself?”
“Yes, sir,” she replied nervously.
He nodded. “You write beautifully. You have a gift.”
It was the first time in a long while anyone had complimented Amara like that. She didn’t know how to react. That moment sparked something she didn’t expect.
Soon after, he began paying her more attention—saying hello in the hallway, winking in class, and asking her to help him with books. One day, he handed Amara a small bar of chocolate. “For her brightest student,” he said.
She felt a strange mix of pride and confusion.
Then came the personal questions.
“Do you have a boyfriend?” he asked one day.
Amara shook her head. “No.”
“Why not? You’re a beautiful girl.”
She looked away, blushing. No one had ever called her beautiful.
He started calling her sweet names like “My queen” and began buying Amara food from the school canteen. He even started giving her airtime and asked about her dreams. It felt like someone finally saw her—not as a burden, but as someone worth caring for.
One afternoon, as school ended, he found Amara by the gate.
“Heading home?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Let me drop you off.”
Amara hesitated, but he insisted. She didn’t want to seem rude, so she got into his car.
But instead of taking her home, he drove to a quiet area near an abandoned building. Amara's heart started beating faster.
“I need to tell you something,” he said. “I think about you all the time. Not as a student—but as someone special.”
Amara didn’t know what to say. She replied “But you’re my teacher.”
“I know,” he said. “But you're mature, Amara. You’re not like the others. I care about you.”
He reached out and held my hand, softly promising he would never hurt me. At that moment Amara felt valued… wanted. And just like that, she gave in to the feelings.
From that point on, they started seeing each other in secret. He would call her late at night, whispering sweet things into her ears. During breaks, they usually meet behind the school building, away from curious eyes.
He bought Amara a new phone, gave her money, and said I never had to worry about anything again.
But everything changed when Amara's monthly period didn’t come.
At first, she thought maybe it was delayed. But then came the nausea. The tiredness. The vomiting.
She quietly went to the school clinic and spoke to Nurse Ebere. She asked, “When was your last period?”
“Over a month ago,” she said nervously.
She ran a pregnancy test.
When she returned with the result, her eyes said it all.
“You’re pregnant, Amara.”
She felt the world collapse around her. Pregnant? She could barely breathe. She left the clinic in tears.
That evening, she waited for Mr. Daniel after school. When she told him the news, his face changed.
“What do you mean you’re pregnant?” he asked sharply.
“You know why. You know what we’ve done. It’s yours,” Amara said quietly.
He stood up, pacing and panicking.
“You need to get rid of it. You can’t keep it, Amara.”
Amara froze.
“But… It's a child. I don’t want to do that.”
“Do you want to ruin both our lives?” he snapped. “You’ll be expelled. I’ll lose everything. Please think.”
Amara cried. “But you told me you loved me. You said you’d protect me.”
He looked away, silent.
That night, she lay in bed, crying until her pillow was soaked. Because she had no one. No parents to lean on. No home to run to.
Just me… a growing baby… and a future filled with uncertainty.
3 months later her uncle called her to check her well-being, but her uncle noticed the way she is sound on the phone and her uncle asked if there are problems, No problem “Amara replied".
The next day her uncle and his wife pay a visit to Amara at her hostel, and when they reach there they discover that Amara was pregnant, and her uncle was so angry about what happened, and uncle's wife calms his husband, and they asked her that did she know who impregnate her. Yes I do, “Amara replied.
The next day Amara's uncle called Mr Daniel, Amara teacher and invited him to his house, and when teacher reached the house, they asked him if the things happened, and he explained everything has it happened, and both settled the issue within themselves, and Mr Daniel married Amara as his own legal wife.
Thanks for reading.
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Feels like something that would happen in a Nigerian movie. I actually don't support teacher and student relationship actually.
But I like the ending part.
The teacher used her in my opinion because she is still a minor.