In the heart of Kampala, where the vibrant streets buzz with life and laughter, my world turned upside down one fateful night. It was supposed to be a night filled with passion, but instead, it ended with my girlfriend, Aisha, delivering a blow that shattered my confidence. “I regret knowing you. Don’t ever call me to your house again,” she said, her voice laced with disappointment. Those words cut deeper than any knife. I knew I had to change my situation—fast.
Desperation took over as I found myself replaying that night over and over. I couldn’t shake off the shame or the dread of facing Aisha again. The whispers of our friends and the judgment in their eyes became unbearable. I needed help, an
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