Having a stalker is scary!
We first met…or rather he saw me during one warm afternoon several years ago when I was still in university. He was one of the numerous construction workers making improvements to the school. He approached me, attempting to get my number, but I wasn’t interested so I casually discouraged his efforts and continued on my way. Immediately, I forgot about him, to me he was just another creep trying to get lucky.
But the advances didn’t stop.
At first, he would personally bring me flowers if he could find me, sometimes a proper bouquet, most times they would be roses he would pluck from the school’s hedges. These were coupled with letters filled with grammatical errors declaring his ultimate and undying love for me, which would all end with, ‘love Dennis’. My friends and I would always rave about them; we’d read them word for word. After having our fun, I would dispose of them.
As I grew insistent on avoiding him, he would resort to requesting other students to bring me presents on his behalf. He became more creative with his ‘gifts’, from law books, bibles to smartphones, always accompanied with his little letters. I accepted some of these things only because he made it a hustle if I rejected them. He would follow me around, literally, usually timing me as I left the school gate, begging me to accept his gifts. Just so he could leave me alone, I would take them.
Almost a year in and the gestures became cumbersome, almost agitating and yet still weirdly hilarious. I recall one of his letters promising to buy me a car (which I still haven’t received). Not that he could’ve afforded it anyway.
Despite no longer working at the university, he would take advantage of the school church which would be open to the public on Sunday to slide through the gates and deliver some present to me, usually by requesting a fellow student. When he felt ambitious, he would wait outside, for hours at a time, until he would see me pass to personally hand over whatever he had for me while trying to convince me to be his!!!
If I hadn’t involved the authorities by this point it was because, despite his vexing habits, I didn’t consider him dangerous, just sad. However, his behavior was becoming a concern. Moreover, it was limiting my standard of life outside the walls of my room. I couldn’t be certain that I would go outside without him showing up. So I alerted the head of security at the university about my feelings of insecurity inside the vicinity, and for a while, he actually disappeared from my life. My peace of mind was however short-lived.
One day, I received a romantic text message concluding with ‘love Dennis’. To date, I still don’t know where he got my number. The incessant letters turned into erratic text messages and phone calls. He would send me credit and money, expecting me to answer his calls. When I blocked him, he would find me on Facebook, claiming that he wasn’t going to give up ‘on our love’.
The creepiest thing to date was the last ‘gift’ I ever received from him, brought to me by a random student, at this point I knew the drill. It was a less than appealing photo frame with a picture of me in it. The craziest part was that I didn’t take it, nor do I remember anyone taking that particular picture of me. It was a photograph of me walking casually, oblivious of the camera snapping away. He had gotten someone to take pictures of me without my consent! Worse off was that coupled with the traumatizing photo, was a picture of himself!!!
If I hadn’t taken the initiative to push him away before, I did everything in my power after that. I would threaten to report him to the police. I would block him on every social media platform that he would try to approach me on. I would gather evidence if ever it reached a point where I’d have to get some kind of restraining order.
However, after continuously creeping in and out of my life for a few more months, he seemed to finally get the idea. He completely stopped, to this day I haven’t heard from him again. Maybe he gave up and found another girl to irritate. Regardless, the experience isn’t one I’d like to endure ever again.