Stats: 3,192,086 members, 7,946,684 topics. Date: Thursday, 12 September 2024 at 01:47 AM |
Nairaland Forum / Nairaland / General / Romance / Toasting:the Eighties/nineties Style. (962 Views)
5 Weird Toasting Styles Nigerian Guys Use For Women. / Wooing(toasting) Gone Bad -if Only Money Could Buy / See What A Lady Posted Online About Broke Guys Toasting Her & The Reply She Got (2) (3) (4)
Toasting:the Eighties/nineties Style. by LaJose78(m): 7:25pm On Jun 01, 2015 |
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!! |
Re: Toasting:the Eighties/nineties Style. by FLAWLES(f): 7:29pm On Jun 01, 2015 |
Did i read it? |
Re: Toasting:the Eighties/nineties Style. by Nobody: 7:36pm On Jun 01, 2015 |
Toooooooooooooooo lengthy.... |
Re: Toasting:the Eighties/nineties Style. by LaJose78(m): 7:38pm On Jun 01, 2015 |
debolly: |
Re: Toasting:the Eighties/nineties Style. by pTomz(m): 7:40pm On Jun 01, 2015 |
abg who don read d novel finish ![]() |
Re: Toasting:the Eighties/nineties Style. by LaJose78(m): 7:40pm On Jun 01, 2015 |
bt it ws worth readin, isn't it? @debolly |
Re: Toasting:the Eighties/nineties Style. by IamLEGEND1: 7:45pm On Jun 01, 2015 |
1 Like
|
Re: Toasting:the Eighties/nineties Style. by Nobody: 7:48pm On Jun 01, 2015 |
LaJose78:Ki n ma paro ![]() |
Re: Toasting:the Eighties/nineties Style. by naijaboiy: 10:24pm On Jun 01, 2015 |
![]() |
Re: Toasting:the Eighties/nineties Style. by sarmiie(m): 4:48am On Jun 02, 2015 |
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?? |
Re: Toasting:the Eighties/nineties Style. by Nobody: 10:19am On Jun 02, 2015 |
Felt like I was reading a literature! |
(1) (Reply)
Help! Scorpion Stung My 'hard To Get' Girlfriend In My Room / Why Is He Ignoring Her Phone? / Ladies! Choose 5 Main Qualities To Create Your Ideal Boyfriend And Husband
(Go Up)
Sections: politics (1) business autos (1) jobs (1) career education (1) romance computers phones travel sports fashion health religion celebs tv-movies music-radio literature webmasters programming techmarket Links: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) Nairaland - Copyright © 2005 - 2024 Oluwaseun Osewa. All rights reserved. See How To Advertise. 28 |