Book 1: G.O.O.D (Wallace & Chibuzor)

WALLACE AND CHIBUZOR

Hormones that kicked in too soon!

One was half German and the other had spent the early days of his life out of this country, so he had this funny accent – at least it sounded funny to me. It is also possible that he talked that way to impress the girlies or maybe he was just, so, overwhelmed with the beauty around him (Me and Chinyere, of course, why even ask?) that his vocals chords failed to work properly.

I find it a bit strange but I’ve been thinking really hard about it and I really can’t remember who bore what name. This is no fault of my incredible brain  as I have said before, I have more brains now –check out my story about Aisha further on – and for the life of me, I can’t recall who was who!  

I suppose a good argument in my favour might be that my little self only stored important information and details - and that is good enough for me, and you! They were inseparable so let’s just call them Wallace and Chibuzor; because Honey, it is not my fault that their identities were co-dependent!

With no pretensions at modesty, - because it won’t blend with my personality in this story - I must say that I can’t have been bad looking at all.  Please, I wasn’t bad looking at all, I was so cute it was unbelievable, I’ve seen pictures!

Back then, we had this weird and strange mentality in Nigeria, somebody forced it upon us and we believed the person or people – I’m not pointing fingers: anybody with ‘white skin’ must be really fly (I guess no one thought about stalkers, serial murderers and other dangers that are mostly associated with western culture) I didn’t think that of course - I was too much of a genius to reason in that manner!

Anyway, I’ll say this as plainly as I possibly can; the half-German, was after me. He didn’t even want a relationship, he wanted commitment. If he had his way back then, I probably would have found myself married to this guy.

What a shame!

Are you kidding?!

I’m glad that never happened, as it soon turned out, this guy was not as harmless as he seemed. I probably would have had to file for dissolution pleading insanity –on his part.  

Okay scratch that last part, it should have read, ‘on both sides’.

I would have been insane for accepting his proposal while he would have been insane for REALLY being insane!

I kind of liked him – you know how we all love stuff that really isn’t good for us? Thank God I fronted a lot; I mean hey, I’m not cheap!

Therefore, out of desperation and frustration - I might say - to receive a kiss from me, he did something so gross I don’t even want to remember, but it’s scandalous so you’ll get the details; but now that I think about it, it might be considered kind of cute now.

You see, for some reason, in those days, we kids thought a marriage was signified by a man and woman exchanging saliva.

Who came up with that idea anyway?

Whoever it was did me a great disservice and in today’s world I’d probably have legal ground to sue.

Hey! Stop sweating, ok? I’m just kidding – about the suing but not the disservice. DEFINITELY not the disservice!

It was you though, wasn’t it? Your secret is safe with me so just relax! I’m sure it was just a result of all the French-kissing we saw on TV, so it is probably not your fault.

Anyway, my ‘would-have-been-sweetheart, made himself totally and completely unappealing to me by making me taste his saliva a little too soon.

We were in class after break time; I remember the walls of the class were painted blue. Yes blue! Now shut up and stop cutting in every minute.

There I was talking to Chinyere - the mini bully I mentioned earlier on. Shush! – And maybe minding my own business. It’s hard to say, I don’t remember what day exactly that I started gossiping. For all I know, I just discovered that particular pleasure that day. Suddenly and totally out of the blue – yes blue again: a balled up paper pops into my mouth.

I thought, okay this boy is at it again with his silly ‘I love you letters’ - he was always popping them in my mouth whenever he got a chance.

Sorry for not mentioning this earlier but he did use to chase me around with his balled up letters it was frustrating but also endearing sometimes he would also serenade me.

Actually, the singing was more of harassment.

Remember this game girls used to play back then?

I believe we called it ‘ten-ten’ – they do still call it that, I asked my little cousin. We would clap our hands and chant ‘ten-ten’, as we tried to pick a leg to throw out at our challengers ten times, all the while making sure our challengers didn’t pick the same leg we picked.  Really entertaining game I must say.

The poor guy always picked this moment to sing. He would start chanting with us and in the end we would be so confused, we’d have to move somewhere else and not to be daunted, he would follow. It was just so irritating; and even then we all believe that he did it to get on our nerves.

Back to the story;

I believe we stopped where he threw the love note in my mouth? So I pulled the paper out of my mouth only to find out it had saliva - lots of it really - in the middle where the words of undying love should have been – Idiot! Him, not me.

No I’m not confused. The saliva wasn’t mine. The paper was balled up you see, so I unwrapped the paper and found the ‘thing’ inside it.

Oh I was really mad.

I was really mad.

What a waste of saliva! I had been admiring him you know - from the corner of my eyes. That’s how we do it girls isn’t it?

That day I finally reached my conclusion and I thought ‘Oh my God! I’ve got a freak on my case, an obsessive lover and a real-life stalker.

Then I thought ‘so this stuff really happens, it’s not just a creation of an author’s imagination, obviously this isn’t love, its obsession!’ I was that smart!.

I thought it was time to call in the police on the matter. It was no longer a private matter; it had taken a nasty turn, it was now essentially a matter of a criminal nature. Personally, I think they should have just chucked him into prison. So I went up the stairs to the head teacher’s office and reported the stalker.

I was told I could go home after I had given my statement; the stalker was arrested. Once my evidence was corroborated by my -most-likely gossiping- buddies he was prescribed a treatment.

Six lashes on his butt!                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  

It worked.

He never spoke to me after that, and sometimes I thought I observed some angry looks directed my way.

Although people did say that he threw longing looks at me from time to time , but I guess his medication would kick in again and he would turn away in anger.

Hmm he was handsome.

It’s such a shame he didn’t wait a little longer but I guess there was no point anyway since I left the school. Perhaps Chinyere was angry with me even more than usual because she had supported my claim against this wacko.

I just don’t seem to understand, why she objected so strongly to being my friend, because I didn’t want to eat communally.