PAT’S BAR

No matter how late the night went, I always got into my Uber and went home. He’d step into his Prada Jeep, his driver taking him straight back. And without fail, after the usual two-day hangover recovery, he’d call me Sunday morning. We’d laugh about Friday night like it was a recap episode no filters, no pretence.

Like all friendships, ours had seasons. Around that time, my business in Port Harcourt demanded more of me. Distance grew, communication slowed, and Lagos Fridays became less frequent. Life was simply happening.

By 2013, I was back in Lagos. We reconnected naturally no awkwardness, no explanations needed. The friendship picked up where it left off. Only this time, I wasn’t always rushing home. He’d say, “Kate, you don’t have to go. There are rooms.” And there truly were. I had my own space there. Still, nothing crossed the line.

The reason for our distance eventually became clear he was engaged. His fiancée, Fina, a (Nigerian girl) lived in Manchester. When he travelled to see her early that year, he went prepared, suitcase heavy with smoked fish, gari, palm oil home, carefully packed. What he didn’t expect was to arrive and find another man living there. Younger. Present.

Devastated, he left everything behind. Checked into a hotel. Then Spain. He finished his holiday alone before returning to Nigeria for work.

And that quietly, unexpectedly was where our story truly began.

OUR FIRST PAT’s BAR ENCOUNTER 

Since we’re offloading today, let’s talk about how we actually met because sometimes, all paths bend when you say no, and life gently says go anyway.

When I first moved to Lagos, I didn’t rent a full apartment. I was a businesswoman, investing and moving smart, I had just gotten my first car red Renault Scenic, not flashy. My routine was simple: I’d come into Lagos, head to Kotunu to buy goods: Romanian gold, then straight to Balogun for clothes. Business first. Always.

That particular weekend, I was done early. Too early.

And I told my friends I didn’t feel like going out.

They refused to hear it.

“This girl, you’re in Lagos. You’ve finished business. What are you staying indoors for? Let’s go out. What do you have to lose?”

Reluctantly, I agreed.

That night, we ended up at PAT’s Bar.

I honestly can’t remember everything I wore but I do remember enough. A skimpy, tight, light-blue dress. Long hair. And confidence I didn’t know I was carrying. Forget everything else, I was the life of the party.

I was dancing by the bar with my friends when Mr. Jones walked in.

He saw me immediately.

No hesitation. He walked straight up to me, took my hands in his, and gently pulled me toward him to dance along. I shyly pulled away half surprised, half playful. He smiled, turned, and walked back to his table where his close work friends were already seated.

A few minutes later, he sent the waiter.

“Please ask her to come sit with us.”

My friends were furious.

One of them who was a regular at PAT’s looked at me and said,

“Kate, you are very stupid if you don’t go and answer that man. I’ve been coming here for years and I’ve never seen him talk to any woman.”

I felt proud.

Too proud.

Now here’s the thing, I’ve never been a lover of high heels. When I say I was dancing that night, I mean barefooted. No shame. Dancing like rent was due. So to walk over, I had to sit down, put my shoes back on, and gather myself when he had already offered to take me himself.

But he never took his eyes off me.

Everyone believed it. Even me.

Love at first sight.

I shook slightly as I made that walk to his table. My little walk of shame.

I greeted his friends, including one unforgettable soul, late Mr. Dipo. An amazing man. Full of life, endless humour, always making plans while still finishing the last one. He later became my husband’s best manlife is funny like that 😄  Mr. Dipo cheered us on from day one and I had something to say about his excessive smoking habit from day one too. He promised me he was going to stop smoking that day until of recent when he took ill and passed on. Adieu to a great friend.Of course, compliments followed as I sat next to Mr. Jones. We drank, we laughed, we yapped all night while I danced like PAT’s Bar was paying me per hour.

Strangely, I still doubted whether he was actually attracted to me.

Because the conversation felt like guys talking. No pressure. No flirting. Just ease.

And that… was the beginning.

2013: When the Tone Changed

In 2013, after he returned to Nigeria, everything shifted.

I was in Port Harcourt when my phone rang.

“Where are you?” he asked.

I told him I was in Port Harcourt and immediately, I noticed it.

This wasn’t my buddy on the other end of the line.

This was an intentional man.

“Can you come to Lagos?”

Now, mind you this was the same man who, for years, would calmly ask how I was travelling. When I told him I was going by road on public transport, he’d simply say, “Be careful. Drive safe.”

This time, it was different.

“What road? No. No, no, no. The road is dangerous. I don’t want anything to happen to you. I’ll ask my assistant to book you a flight.”

I went quiet.

“Send me your passport details.”

I did.

That same evening, my ticket landed in my inbox.

Arik Air. First flight the next morning. Business class.

I arrived in Lagos on Friday morning and instead of heading to my usual friend’s place where I rented bed space, I went straight to Mr. Jones’ house.

The steward welcomed me. My room was ready. Mr. Jones was at work, but he’d left a handwritten note and some cash, asking me to go to the salon and take care of myself.

I smiled because Lagos had already trained me well. I was ready from Port Harcourt.

The driver took me to Lekki to see my friends. I told them what was happening, that I was staying with Mr. Jones, and that we were going out that night. PAT’s Bar. He was hosting.

By the time I returned to the house, he was already home.

He was genuinely happy to see me.

“Get ready, ” he said. “We’re going out.”

Of course. It was Friday.

When I stepped out of the hallway, fully dressed, he was seated in the living room. He looked up—and paused.

“Wow… you’re so beautiful.”

I laughed. “Are you just noticing?”

He smiled, turned off the TV, held my hands, and said,

“Kate, sit down. I want to talk to you.”

He spoke slowly. Intentionally.

He told me he’d known me a long time. That I was full of life, ambitious, different. That he had watched me chase my dreams. He explained why he’d always kept a boundary he had been in a committed relationship before, and he took loyalty seriously.

“But now, ” he said, “I’m no longer committed to anyone. And I want to make you happy just as you’ve made my Lagos weekends lighter, easier, better.”

Then he asked the question.

“Would you like to be my girlfriend?”

I didn’t hesitate.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

What made it easy was this we were friends first. Real friends. We already knew how to talk, laugh, argue, gossip, and trust each other. Romance didn’t disrupt the foundation; it simply rested on it.

I didn’t know marriage was coming.

But I knew he wasn’t the kind of man who started something without intention.

That night, we went to PAT’s Bar.

I told my friends.

They screamed.

This time, they didn’t linger at a distance they joined our table. We drank, ate, laughed, danced. I ordered the biggest fish on the menu, ate with my hands, surrounded by my people.

It was joy.

It was ease.

It was real.

And that night ended exactly how a beginning should quietly certain.

Life Became Easier

When you are with an intentional man, life truly feels lighter. Nothing is forced. Nothing is begged for. The energy is aligned, the intention is clear, and things flow naturally.

I never had to ask for anything because he already knew me.

He knew me first as a friend. He knew my life goals. He knew I wanted to own properties. He knew I wanted to travel the world. He knew I wanted a family, and a home I could always return to. He knew I dreamed of retiring on an island waking up in a beautiful home by the ocean, having breakfast together in peace, away from the noise and distractions of the world.

We had spoken about all of this long before we became lovers. So when we finally came together as partners, it felt like the icing on an already perfect cake.

We traveled more. We partied more. Everything we did as friends simply expanded. Loving him didn’t change the joy it multiplied it.

Eventually, I officially moved into Mr. John’s house. Properly moved in. I became the madam of the house. I had my own room. He had his own room. We had a steward, a lovely man in his 40s. Life felt settled, beautiful, and safe. Life was good.

Then, in 2014, everything changed.

Keith suddenly became very ill at work. He collapsed and was rushed to the hospital. They stabilized him, but the doctors said he had to travel abroad immediately for further treatment. I couldn’t travel with him—I didn’t have my visa ready and he had to go alone.

My world shattered. 

Would he be okay? Would he come back?

A few days later, I received a call from the hospital abroad. They told me Keith was stable and receiving treatment, but he wouldn’t be able to speak to me yet. They said he specifically asked them to inform me because he knew I would be worried.

That’s a good man one who knows he has a good woman.

And he was right. I was beside myself. I felt helpless. There was nothing I could do for him. I stayed in church, crying and praying, asking God to keep him safe and bring him back to me because we were only just getting started.

And God answered.

He came back.

Life felt beautiful again. We went out for dinner. One of our favorite places was Eko Hotel. On Sundays, we loved the buffet by the pool. I would eat happily, and he would tease me, laughing, saying, “Kate, the way you’re eating what animal is this again?” We laughed endlessly. There was so much joy, so much laughter.

While he was away, I had a conversation with someone in his company. I already knew he was close to retirement. Keith loved his job deeply. I had never seen a man so passionate about his work. Watching the way he cared for his career made me believe he would be an incredible father, because he was already an exceptional lover.

The company confirmed what I suspected. Due to his health, they would not renew his contract in Nigeria. He had worked all his life, and it was time for him to retire and enjoy the rewards of his labor.

Keith was 55 in 2014.

Before the year ended, he officially received his retirement letter. His contract would not be renewed. He was due to retire in 2015.

He was disappointed.

I, on the other hand, felt something different. I felt hopeful. I thought, Now we can live. Now we can travel. Now we can finally enjoy life together.

But then, he sat me down.

That conversation changed everything.

He said,

“Kate, you are young, smart, intelligent, and ambitious. I’ve lived my life. I’m grateful for everything we shared in Nigeria, but I can’t hold you back. I love you too much to do that. I will always support your dreams, but I can’t deprive you of your youth, your desire for family, children, and a full future. I’m older. I want to retire and rest.”

I was speechless.

That was not the conversation I was expecting. I was deeply disappointed but it wasn’t my decision to make.

We moved everything from our Lagos home. The company relocated him, and we moved all his belongings to my first home in Port Harcourt the house he built for me.

Yes, he built my first house.

Every piece of furniture. Every artwork. Everything he loved he gave it to me. Those things are still in my home today, the same house I later built for my mother.

Keith returned to Spain.

I moved back to Port Harcourt to heal.

I stayed quiet for months. We continued to talk. He updated me about his properties in Spain. Keith was British but he loved Nigeria deeply. If he had his way, he would have lived in Nigeria forever. Still, Spain was home, and that was where he retired.

By then, I had begun to let go.

I started making plans to return to Lagos to start dating again…

not knowing life was about to write another chapter.

The Call That Changed Everything

He called me from Spain one evening.

“Kate, can you talk?”

His voice sounded different. Concerned.

“Keith, you’re scaring me. Are you okay?”

He told me he was fin….really fine.

That was when he proceeded:

“Can you marry me?” he said.

“Can you forget everything I said before I left Nigeria and make me the happiest man by being my wife?”

I went quiet.

He stayed on the line. He didn’t rush me. He waited.

I took a deep breath and finally said,

“You know the answer is yes. But what changed? What made you change your mind?”

And he said something I will never forget.

“I lied to myself. I thought I could have a life without you. But moving back here, with you in Nigeria, I realized I had no life without you. You made my life full. You made going out fun. You made staying in the best place to be. And I don’t think I can enjoy the rest of my life without you.”

I smiled through tears and said,

“So what are you waiting for? Come and marry me already. You know I’m Nigerian you have to marry me traditionally. And we’ll do the English wedding too.”

He laughed and said,

“Kate, I am coming to marry you.”

And just like that, everything changed.

My plans to return to Lagos to start afresh turned into plans to return to Lagos to plan my wedding.

I called everyone. I sent messages to my friends, his friends everyone was confused at first.

“What’s going on?”

“He asked me to marry him last night.”

The excitement was instant. Everyone who knew Keith loved and respected him. His friends were ready. My friends were ready. Everyone wanted to support us and make sure the wedding was exactly how he wanted it intimate, meaningful, no crowds.

He wanted the reception at one of his favorite bars in Lagos. I followed his details. I added mine. We made it work.

I planned my own wedding.

And it was beautiful.

That was the beginning of a bigger picture a new chapter in my life.

I have so much to say about life itself. I may be only 31, but I have lived deeply since I was 16. I have loved, lost, learned, and grown. And I know that by sharing my story with honesty and transparency, the women and girls who have followed my journey who have always wanted to understand my story will learn something from it.

This blog is me sharing what has been…

and holding space, with hope, for what is still to come.

Whether you choose to date online or meet someone organically, that choice is yours. But know what you want. Be clear. Because there is someone for everyone.

Most importantly keep an open heart.

I know what I want today, but I remain open-hearted and open-minded to whatever God has planned for me. Because my late husband, Mr. Jones, was God’s perfect plan for me.

And although he is gone, he lives on in memory, in love, our daughter and in the joy we shared.

We had so many happy moments.

And for that, I am forever grateful.