‘Have I ever told you I
love you?’
‘You’ve said that every
day for the past 58 years’ My grandmother replied her husband.
‘If I ever come back, I
hope to marry you again’
‘Rufus, you still have
that lovely tongue’ she says holding his hands. ‘Just be a gentleman and let me
go first. Ladies first. It’s always been your principle’
‘Not with this my dear.
I can’t afford to be without you’ My grandfather said.
That was three days
before he died. They were such a lovely couple. My mum said she couldn’t
remember an argument between them. They seemed to fall in love every day. They were the talk of the town and a perfectly
fit couple in appearance, intelligence, kindness and class. How I wished I had
a relationship like that. Grandma was uncontrollable when her sweetheart left
and she sunk into depression. I tried my best to cheer her up but she just
wouldn’t be the same woman I knew. I missed the several stories they shared,
how long it took grandma to reply granddad, how they will beg me to bring a
girl home and how granddad was going to finally help me get Mo.
Mo was my childhood
school mate. She was a girl I flipped on. Flip is when someone likes you and
you didn’t; then you like them and they don’t. Mo was three years my junior in
secondary school and had this amazing crush on me back then but she wasn’t as
good looking as the girls I liked back then in school. I actually respected her
when she summoned courage to ask me out but then I lied I was dating Chisom (a
girl I was crushing on, who was cruel and was never gonna say yes to me). Mo
endured plenty ridicules from me and she eventually let me go. I began to miss
her and it heightened when she became the hot chick she is now. She wouldn’t
even give me an audience. Somewhere, I believe she likes me but my player life
is something that had caused a divide behind our resolution. It’s a whopping
four years now and Mo ain’t gonna give me that chance. Grandpa promised to win
her over for me but he left too early.
My name is Yinka but my
friends call me Hotboy. I’m a procurement manager in a construction firm, 27,
financially comfortable, handsome with a good sense of humour. It was easy for
me to be a lady’s man and my association with BJ turned me into the man I’m
trying to not be; A player. I and BJ were in a competition of body counts. We had
a book where we made a table with headers: name of chick, number of rounds,
positions, first to cum, class of girl, strategy used in wooing her, that is if
na cash or side chick etc. I was no match with BJ whose candidates were
reaching 79. I was still on 47 chicks when I decided this wasn’t the life for
me. Seeing my grandparents was the resolution. It was the search for Bae. Off my
head, it was definitely Mo but aside my childish actions, I had also slept with
a friend of hers, Biola. It was like I was always killing my chances with her.
She had this look of disgust every time she saw me and it hurt. Granddad always
said ‘no matter how bad you are, there is always this girl that has your heart’
and mine was Mo.
My mum said the church
was the best place to find a wife but she didn’t tell me that church girls are
usually harsh. You woo them; see my pastor. You touch their shoulder; you want
to rape them, imagine you trying a kiss; blood of Jesus. I started going to
this particular church when a saw a big yansh’d decent looking beautiful girl
coming out of the church one day I was returning from work. Her name was Grace.
Stay
with us on our next epistle: A date with
a church girl
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