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My name is Zara. And I had the kind of love people write songs about. Emeka and I — three years. Long distance. Lagos to London. Every night call. Every "goodnight baby." Every "I miss you so much it hurts." I believed all of it. Then last Tuesday... His mum called me. Not to check on me. Not to say hello. She called me to apologize. "Zara my daughter... I thought you knew." I thought I knew what? She went silent. Then she said — "Ask Emeka about the girl in the picture he posted on close friend