Thanks to the power of the
internet and mobile phone
technology. A lot of things
progress rather seamlessly
nowadays. If you grew up in the
eighties and nineties, you
experienced things differently.
Now, when a guy fancies a girl,
he only needs to reach her
number or email address;
preferably the phone number.
Even without air time,
Applications like BBM and
WhatsApp, powered by the
internet allow folks to
communicate with little or no
barriers. Take a look around,
you’d see young fellows pecking
away at their phone pads. John
wants to meet up with Nkechi at
some restaurant, he texts her to
arrange a date, and before you
know it, they are having a
pleasant lunch together.
Boyfriends and girlfriends need
to resolve their differences; they
even iron it out over the phone
or via texts in cases where they
are not close to each other. Lets’
walk down the memory lane a
bit…
It was 1995. Igbokwe had been
eyeing Chinyere, who to him was
the most beautiful girl in the
world. They both lived in a village
in Udi LGA of Enugu State.
Although you could not
necessarily call him wealthy,
Igbokwe’s father was somewhat
well off by the standards of the
time. Igbokwe took great pride
in his father’s possessions. He
wore baggy jeans, which were a
rarity back in the day. On top of
that, he donned a ‘yellow New
York on my mind T-shirt.’ Very
few people had it back then, so
to have two of those made him a
stand-out young man, and he
relished and milked the attention
those bought him. Despite all,
that his confidence with the
ladies was next to zero. He would
stammer and sweat like a
Christmas goat each time he had
to ask a girl out. Somehow, he
needed to find a formidable
strategy to win Chinyere’s heart.
“Ikenna, please, can you do me a
favor?” He asked his good friend
Ikenna, whose family was a
neighbor and close friends with
Chinyere’s. “Yes, wetin?” Ikenna
answered. “You know sey I don
dey eye Chinyere?” “I sabi, how I
fit help you win her heart?” “I
get something wey I wan make
you help me give am. Na
envelope. Inside, there is five
hundred Naira.” That was a
fortune for a girl just out of
secondary school back then.
“You wan give am all that
money?” Ikenna asked
incredulously.
“Yes, give it to her,” he said
handing Ikenna the envelope
with a wad of Naira notes.
“When you give it to her, tell her I
want to see her tomorrow. She
can meet me under the mango
tree behind Mama Ifeoma’s shop
around 4:00PM.” “That one no be
trouble now. I go convince her to
see you,” Ikenna said
reassuringly. Ikenna proved to be
a reliable emissary. He delivered
the money and message to
Chinyere. “You know his father is
rich. Imagine, if you go out with
him, he go buy you many fine
things. Inside this envelope na
five hundred Naira Im say make I
give you.” Chinyere took the
envelope delightfully. She felt the
money pleasingly. “Okay, I will
see him tomorrow. You said 4 in
the evening abi?” “Yes.” She was
truly elegant. Her lips left too
many hearts pounding when she
spoke. Her immaculately carved
voluptuous body nearly caused
multiple heart attacks when she
walked the paths and roads of
the village. She knew she was
beautiful, but she managed to
carry herself with humility. In
addition, she was one of the
brightest girls in school. She was
hoping to go to UNN to study
medicine.
By 4:00PM, Igbokwe was
hovering under the mango tree.
His heart was beating like the
village town crier. His palms were
wet, and thick streaks of sweat
drew endless maps on his face.
He paced around the tree,
looking in all direction in
expectation of Chinyere every
few seconds. She had
deliberately chosen to be slightly
late. Make him wait, she had said
to herself. About 4:25PM, she
sauntered down the dusty village
road to the designated Mango
tree. The sun was going down,
but weak remaining rays of sun
illuminated the gloss of her
beautiful skin. On sighting her,
Igbokwe’s heart pounded even
more ferociously. He wanted to
run, but he kept himself still
somehow. I have got to do this
today, he admonished himself. I
am the son of the richest man in
the village. I am sure, she is dying
to date me, he reassured himself.
Chinyere preferred classier guys
though. She had yet to meet one,
but she believed she would if she
went to University. He body
reeked of confidence.
“Chi-chii! Goooood toooo seeee
yo—u!” Igbokwe stammered as
she joined him under the tree.
“Good to see you too Igbokwe.
So what is it you have to tell me?”
She asked matter-of-factly. Her
directness sent his heart sinking
into his stomach. He flickered
through his mind for the right
vibe to impress, but not much
was coming forth. A thick ball of
sweat dropped from his chin to
his chest. He took out a clean
white handkerchief and wiped
his face, trying to buy some time
to figure out how to toast the
girl of his dreams. Eventually, he
chose to use the only weapon he
knew. “Chii—chii,” “Yes, I
Igbokwe.” “I l-i-k-e y-o-u ve—ry
much. You know, the big shop at
the market square belongs to my
father?” Chinyere nodded
affirmatively. He felt her response
was a positive one. Buoyed by
his inroad, he pressed further.
“My father also, has 3 commercial
motorcycles,” he continued. “We
have 2 buses that ply the route
between Ngwo and Enugu and
one that runs from Enugu to
Nsukka. Look,” he pointed. “The
farmland over there belongs to
us. The palm trees, the cassava,
the pear tress etc, they all belong
to us. You know my father is
building a one storey building in
our compound too. The cassava
and palm oil milling plants in the
village both belong to my father.
If you consider all these things
and even more, you know I will
take care of you. Will you be my
girlfriend?” A mocking smile
descended on Chinyere’s face.
She did not want to give him an
outright negative answer. “Your
dad is very rich Igbo. Thanks for
asking me out. Let me think
about it. I will give you an
answer in a few days,” she
answered meticulously. A big
smile appeared on Igbokwe’s
face. “That is very good. Think
about it beautiful girl. Now have
this for a bottle of Coke or two.”
He shoved an envelope
containing another five hundred
Naira into her hand.
Now, let’s consider the case of
Izunna back in 1998. He too was
smitten by a pretty girl in his
village in Aboh Mbaise LGA of Imo
State. After trying unsuccessfully
to win her heart, he embarked
on an unusual tactic to express
his love for her. Here is a
paraphrased version of his letter
to the love of his life, Mgbechi.
Beautiful Mgbechi,
How are you today? I hope you
are fine. Doxology. It is with a
magnitude of love unimaginable
that I pick up my golden pen to
write you this very important
note to you. When I lie on my bed
at night, I see you in my dreams.
When I see you walk down the
road, I can no longer breathe.
Mbgechi my dear, I want to tell
you that you are the only sugar
in my tea, and the only cockroach
in my cupboard. You are my
mountain flower, and my
morning dew. My heart is going
BUM! BUM! right now even as I
write this letter to you. I wonder
if your heart does the same
when you see me or think of me.
I want to climb to the top of the
palm tree at the village square
and tell everybody that I love you.
Please, will you accept my love?
Food and water I no longer want
if you are not mine. Will you be
mine please beautiful Mgbechi? I
am prepared to sell my kidney to
win your heart. In fact, my life is
nothing without you my sweet
honey pie!
Please reply soon, because I
cannot sleep until I hear from
you. You can pass your reply to
me through my cousin and your
good friend Oluchi.
Your lover,
Izunna.
If only they could text each other
back then. Perhaps the eighties
and nineties version of text
message was the whistle. I am
sure some folks can identify with
this. A guy wanting to hang out
with his girlfriend would tell her
to listen for his signal at night. At
night, he would go to the back of
their house and try to whistle her
name in a coded manner. He
would hover and loiter, hoping
that she would decode his
message and respond. A pack of
shortbread biscuit as a gift then
is similar to recharge card today.
In secondary school, for those in
dormitories, guys would read
letters from their girlfriends over
and over again as if their lives
depended on it. The funny part
was that some guys never
received letters or cards at all
from any girl, meaning they had
no girlfriend. However, they were
not to be left out of the show. To
convince their peers that they
too, were in on the show (that
they had a girlfriend), they would
travel home on a weekend
sometime in early February and
send themselves multiple love
cards. Letters took about two
weeks to journey across states
then, so they had to time it to
perfection. On St. Valentine’s Day,
love cards were the big thing on
the school assembly ground.
Folks who had sent love cards to
themselves stole the show as
their names were called out
multiple times to collect love
cards; supposedly from non-
existent girlfriends. What a time
it was!!

Did i read it?

Toooooooooooooooo lengthy....

abg who don read d novel finish

bt it ws worth readin, isn't it? @debolly

LaJose78:
bt it ws worth readin, isn't it? @debolly

Ki n ma paro I didn't read @ all. A summary will do.

Wack pick up lines used to abound too
Eg: girl, is ur father a poultry farmer?? 'Cos u sure know how to raise a cock.
Like WTF??

Felt like I was reading a literature!