Thursday, May 1, 2014

The Boyfriend Diaries: Let Me Introduce Myself

No, I don’t have those typical stories of a strange birth circumstance to which my mother bore me forth to this perversely crazy world. As a matter of fact, Mama Tee delivered like a Hebrew woman just like the Bible prescribed, upon which her beliefs are founded.
Cute-baby I was a chubby ‘bomboy’. Fair skinned with a special glee in my eyes, supple skin… damn straight, I was a happy child, the kind that made you bubble all over when you picked me up to hold me. The scent of Johnson & Johnson on my skin made ‘them’ fall in love with me some more. Everyone wanted to hold me and hear my baby cackles. The air my baby presence gave off was nothing short of sweet cuddly cuteness and in the appropriate dosage to the breather.
Fast forward some almost nine years later, I had broken records at primary school. Having topped my class in consecutive succession abi is it successive consecution (LoL!). My daddy was proud and took revere in lauding my small small accomplishments. I never got to see, not talk of ride that bike that he promised to buy me were I to come first in class. But I did, over and over again. Still, nothing.
Then one time, I dropped to fourth position. I died. Literally. I cried my eyes out of their sockets. Mama consoled but it wasn’t helping. I refused to budge. What a stain! And on a repute like mine. Daddy said everything. You can just imagine. I was determined to get back to my place. My rightful place. I owned that spot. Woe betide Shade, Tomisin and Diene who beat me all top three places to number four. I wasn’t gonna have that. Next term, results out and Mrs Onasanya announced that I’d returned. I fought back to my rightful place. Wait? Did I fight? Oh God, NO! I kinda strutted back to my spot and bitch-slapped Shade who was on my throne. She’d have scratched my eyes out if I did that.
I hopped into JS1, the smallest… and I mean smallest kid in the entire secondary school. I’m not sure who was smaller out of David and myself. I sha outgrew him as time progressed. I remembered one time when a senior stopped me and asked my class. In my ambitious tone, I told him JS1. He was shocked to his marrows. So shocked that he perhaps didn’t know he uttered his thoughts out loud… “omo, Nigeria don spoil oh”. I was 9-years-old. 8+ actually but that’s what mummy was telling everybody else. Well, could you blame me? I was smart.
…to be continued!


No comments:

Post a Comment