[Story] Love, Lust And Lost

8 years ago

[Story] Love, Lust And Lost

After the school had closed, Peter had gone to the Ice-cream bar to wait for Zainab. The sun was still shining harshly and he detested it. He walked wearily over the sand, his pair of shoe lifting some sand up which formed dust and rested on his once polished shoe – he had worn in the morning.

His uniform was neatly ironed as though he had had the plan of approaching Zainab. The `gaiters’ flicked and stood proudly like a Khaki trousers worn by soldiers, starched even when it wasn’t required

Some pigeon flew off as they heard footsteps or anything just made a snapping dart on the ground. The surrounding was dirty and food vendors were busy picking nylons that looked like what they sold. Some were using brooms, while others rakes or just hand-pick.

He was not mindful of birds or those vendors this time. He was so deep in thought about what he wanted to do.

He had often seen Zainab as someone he could love. A girl he could care for and have something to share with. Her character was different from her friends and he loved it that way. He loved the dimples that form on her face whenever she smiled or laugh.

Many fantasies had drench him, made him really clueless amongst his peers. While alone at home, he had had thoughts about her but had been unable to approach her until Amos, his friend had given him a clue.

“Guy, you gaz `sharperly’ get this babe o. You no know may be she fit no get boyfriend now and as I dey see am so, she no fit get.”

“Hahahahahahahahahaha,” he laughed at Amos’s words. How can such a beautiful girl like Zainab not have a boyfriend? “Make I tell you, forget. She go get one.”

All these, he had said to continue listening to soothing words or encouragement by Amos. Those types of things we usually do when we know things we were about to do was going to be positive but we always say it on the negative in the midst of our friends – so that, they could always `ginger’ us and our heads would swell beneath the skin.

“I dey tell you fact bro. That babe no go get BF. At least, me never see her with any boy for this school o,” Amos tried to encourage him.

“What about house? You follow her dey house wey you go know may be she get or not? Moreover, the babe na islander. I no trust any Lagos Island girl, them dey bad.” He teased his friend for more soothing words.

Islanders were naturally regarded as bad people, both males and females. It was either the males were notorious or the females were not virgin or were just Gold-diggers. There was a saying that “to find a virgin in Lagos island `na’ by God’s grace.”

It was either the young girls decided to have pleasure or they were forced (raped) or they were charmed and the likes. Lagos island was the only place male students beat teachers, WAEC examiners and so forth.

He listened carefully and joyously to things he wanted to hear him (Amos) speak. He felt on top of the world just negotiating how he could get Zainab (such beauty) with his friend.

Clinton had heard their talks and joined in. They were all in the same class, science department (class).
Clinton was dating Fatimah’s friend Zainab and once he heard her name, his ear drum picked rhythm and he wanted to contribute what he felt he knew about the girl.

“Make I no lie for you o,” he put in calmly “she no get any boyfriend.”

“Guy, how you take know,” his voice was a pitch higher than Pawpaw’s, the actor.

“Forget, you no need ask me that kind mumu question. No be Fatimah her friend I dey date?”

“Okay okay okay! I believe una. So wetin I go do?”

“Just arrange see her after school. You be guy na, so you no gaz fear. Just tell her your mind” Clinton gave him a piece of advice.

Although, one would see it as an amateurish date or what sort of date could secondary school students have?

He had followed his friends’ idea to write her a note for a date. He hoped she would respond promptly as he entered the Bar which was filled with students that had come to suppress the heat of the sun with some cold Ice-cream.

He didn’t mind anyway. He hope they would soon be gone and he would have time to talk to Zainab alone. He knew the Bar owner would understand and give them privacy but if not, he didn’t care – he was going to be a `guy-man’ for once. He dusted the bench with his handkerchief and sat down, waiting for his crush.

To Be Continued…