We Loved all night till it dawned on us.

We Loved all night till it dawned on us.       Chapter One. Hard guy -Hard guy. “To think they are the sugar is to not identify that we are the honey.”   How can one suddenly say she is no longer interested; I mean… this is not a Mathematics class, I thought to myself. Memories of Mrs. Harrison, my dark skin, slim, and tall Math's teacher came to mind. She was so confident of herself while teaching us our sums and made it clear to us that some of us will fail, I knew she was talking to me that time, I can still feel it like yesterday, my interest vanished right as the chalk bled on the blackboard and she turned facing me, asking why I am not writing down anything, my words were frail, I struggled to muster a thing, I bet if she had heard what my heart was going to say, she would just stone the chalk at me, but as a shy boy which I was, I simply answered she was blocking where I was writing from. She made me lose interest in Mathematics, thank God for other class subjects that stirred up my interest again, however, I felt I could have done better. If there were anything Engineering boys from LCP were known for in my college years in Lagos Nigeria, it would be that we were assumed boring, and this was not because there had been a prior interaction, but the fact that we were barely seen socializing, we were easily spotted either by our weapon of warfare which is a drawing board for our technical drawing classes, or black nylon that housed some nicely done toast bread from “cheerful giver”, one of the finest spots for snacks in school then and pacing fast while squeezing a handful of a bite down the throat and looking at the time while racing through the stair walk. Our social life was yuck, well, perhaps it would pass litmus test if we were to be the judge since we always had each other’s company and had a pattern of conversations daily, it always starts with who has done his or her assignments, while the greater hand of the class dubs [a word for copy], the next is one seeking for lesson notes [this happened until late college years, where reality was dawning on us and found no need for lesson note writing but sought options by having the notes photocopied] and then football [if in the season] was discussed vehemently that you could think it was a project intended to save our lives as we defend and shout, assuming the loudest voice validates a point. Looking back at it now, we were boring, I guess. Tough one. We had just four ladies in my department, and just like people don’t plan to pee, they suddenly turned to men and almost lost their spark of being feminine, thankful to their perky boobs that still popped out from their round neck tees and the times either of them threw on a skirt as against their conventional types of denim or pants. If by any chance any lady comes around to see a friend or ask a question in our department, it was like the drop of a well-masticated meal in the belly while the worms raced to get a scoop. We were always beaming with joy even if she wasn’t so beautiful to our eyes, we almost took turns talking to her or trying to get her attention that it becomes pretty obvious and kind of weird, but I guess we made them a little special by giving them internet and we always had the latest of movies on the laptop for their unwind, maybe we weren’t so bad after all; and did I mention we were cute guys, oh no! Leke is one of my favorites, some fine tall broad chest, intelligent dude, and just with a happy thought, he would let out those mesmerizing smile that has you glued. One of our spots, when we are not doing any of the earlier mentioned, is to sit at a local vendor’s food stand, it was called “Iya ko Jina” this was in Yoruba language and may not make total sense as a sentence, but “Iya” means Mother while “Ko Jina” not yet ready. This name was given, since most visits to her have us first ask if food is ready, and then she responds in the same Yoruba language that it is “not yet ready”, hence the name came alive and maybe because we still understand the place of respect for people older than us, we could toss the Motherly part to her [Iya] while adding the nomenclature. If we are not found here, we probably would by the balcony of the engineering department, it was a haven for all our mischief. Left to us, we could stand there all day looking at pretty ladies from other departments especially Business Administration and Computer Science. Yo! Those ladies were fine, I mean, I am smiling right now reminiscing. We looked, lusted, while a good number of us took turns painting a picture of how well we would exhibit our s****l prowess with our specimen. It was always fun. We had better not know your name as a lady already, because once we do, all that is left is to call you randomly then point to the shy guy amongst us saying, “He’s calling you” while the other silly engineering boys scathed away like a bird hearing footstep approaching. Some of these tantrums had us, friends, some made us more evident as a boring set of students, while a few made us enemies with some ladies who felt embarrassed or due to their temper could not see the thirst of Engineering boys not having a lady around them and us only seeking closure in them by way of our tantrums. If we had a common class, like our GNS lecture, it was a good day to wear a good shirt and Peng sneakers, oh! How could I forget that, it is an opportunity of wearing good perfume and bringing extra cash since you have the greater chance of sitting beside a pretty lady and if you don’t pay attention to the class so well but to her, you would get her Blackberry PIN and be the leader of the gist when we get back to our spot.     Chapter Two. Alexa, play me a love song. “Put your hands on my shoulder, hold me in your arms, baby…” [song] -Paul Anka   It was one of those days at our spot, the Engineering department balcony. We stood there gazing down at the pretty ladies squinting from the sun rays of open-air, we took out time in pointing at our specs and updated each other on who is dating or had copulated with either of the lady in our hot seat. Some typical fun day I must say until all of a sudden everyone turned grey and then bit by bit black and some music was being introduced as a red carpet to a celebrity, the music drew closer and I kept wondering until I saw for myself an angel who dropped her wings to make it in time for lectures, perhaps it was the wings or maybe the stomp of her Jelly sandals on the concrete that slowed her down. I tried to get the attention of my co Engineering friends to ask why she was walking slowly only for me to see they were frozen, nothing made sense no more, just the salient steps from a dark-skinned beauty in some pair of blue denim walking towards the stair walk. How could these things be, I said aloud, as I have never been spun by a web of awe this much. The last time I concentrated this much was when I was waiting to hear them announce the names of people advised to withdraw in my second year in high school. My ears and eyes were locked to the reader as there was pandemonium from people whose names have been mentioned or those who could identify with them. She climbed the stairs like an athlete, having so rehearsed how to climb the stairs for the Olympics or something, it just couldn’t make sense, nothing made sense no more, and I suddenly started hearing the music getting closer, little wonder I couldn’t note the music played or whom it was coming from; it was her, she appeared to be heading my way, so I beckoned to my friends who were still paused as I rushed toward the stairs only to bump into her coming my way… “Hi, Good afternoon” I mentioned courteously and she beamed back a smile, this was when I realized my heart was either made of Ice cream or some Anchor butter, it simply melted as I stood in awe, watching it almost slip off and then she suddenly responded: “Hi, Good Afternoon” while we shook hands with a smile. I can still remember what she wore that day though, some pair of blue denim, Ankara peplum top, with pink and black sandals. Did that just happen? I quizzed myself for some seconds while shinning my teeth like how I had rehearsed finally picking up my Mercedes Benz SLK from the dealership.  I guess they were right after all; God sure has a great sense of humor. It took a slap on my neck from behind with the words “Ode” [Which means “Fool” from the Yoruba language] as I turned holding my neck, Ayoki, our class rep was almost in my face as he yelled, “I don dey call you since, Mr. Wilson dey call you Joor” it was just then I realized my friends were not there, I was all alone and only a good slap as that could bring me back from limbo. I got home that day not paying attention to the world anymore, Lagos traffic was not even a bother, as I just wished I could have the next day start again. This must be love, for I had never felt this way before. I have been in some entanglements or relationships before now, so I’m not a rookie, but this vibe was different. My Sister was my first to hear the good news like I just got a scholarship from School. “Jada, I met one babe today o, she is so fine” I went on telling her of how she looked and the sound of her voice, her smile, her curvy self. I guess I must have bored her at some point, as she left me on the dining eating with her final words: you will be alright. Is this what they say in those novels, I just hope this is no dream, I said to myself as I picked what to iron for school the next day. I need to look good; I need to see her and talk to her; I need to collect her number and Blackberry PIN.   Life was good to me; it didn’t take me that night, as I was blessed with an opportunity to see her again. God must have observed in my prayers that morning how excited I was, as I merrily thanked Him for life and then did some push-ups to stabilize my racing heartbeat that was running to school before I was ready to leave.  On my way to my GNS 101 class was when I noticed the same phenomenon as before, the world around me was slowly pausing and there was music and beaming light, my heart raced again, “she must be around” I said to myself and I managed to look back since I couldn’t see her in front of me, and there she was in her lip gloss, a low V-neck Pink top to show a little flesh of boobs, I struggled and managed to pause just that she could walk up to meet me, it was then I realized she was way prettier than I had seen yesterday, how she managed to tuck her tee into this black denim showing all these curves and glory was a topic to discuss with my boring Engineering colleagues, but hey, let’s get past this episode first. “Hi, we met yesterday, you remember me”? I asked and prayed she doesn’t mistake my genuine question as a pickup line like those from the thirsty Computer Science boys who must have slept with all the girls in the school. Those guys made it tougher for us or maybe we just didn’t have enough time for ourselves to show we also could play the game, perhaps we were all gangsters when it concerns women? “No, I’m different”, as I snapped out of my illusion. “Yes, I remember, Engineering block right”? She asked while gesticulating. Yeah, I answered calmly then further pressing “where are you heading”? I want to get a meal outside, she answered. Oh great! I was heading in the same direction; I lied; ditching my GNS 101 class for a woman. “Something must kill a man” I consoled myself as we headed to Iya Ko Jina. Some that glitter is gold, I said aloud, and she paused while trying to swallow a spoonful of plantain and rice. What did you say? she questioned, and I repeated it in all confidence, maybe my mom was praying for me at that point or something because there was some energy around, my magnetic field was strong while talking with her then; she giggled and ask why I had said that, and I answered with all ease “because you’re gold” o yeah? She said and added thank you to her statement, smiling as she returned her face towards the piece of meat her throat had longed for. I requested her number and she gladly gave it to me, it was the same service provider as mine, so I was overly certain the heavens were on my side on this. I hope it’s not your mom’s number though, I jokingly asked and she responded saying: why would I want to do that? We laughed and I walked her back to the school building. It became evident; money was not the only thing that makes me happy, perhaps love as well. I could tell I was in love or perhaps I was just anxious to see her yet another day. I still remember the first time I called her cell phone; I paced back and forth in front of my long mirror on the wall as I watched to my amusement how silly I looked, but happy. We laughed and talked from one thing to another as time passed. She was my first love, I cherished her like a mother hen to her chic, the connection was magical, hardly does the day go by without us giggling for hours, and this is after we had seen each other in school. College school love is the best, I think… since I never had a high school love, all I had was to crush on a couple of people and stay timid all year round believing they saw me and were paying attention to me, well, so much for the assumption.     Chapter Three. The Breaking Point. “The elasticity of any given material would return to its original state, provided its elastic limit is not exceeded.”  -Hooke's Law   “What would I now use to entertain you”, Doyin asked, as she smiled and reached towards me, removing the spec in my left eye. How will you notice me so well, when you have dirt in your eyes, she added? Haba! I interjected, even in this month of Ramadan I still see you prettier than ever, and I cannot help but smile thanking God I decided to ask you out. Who did you ask out, Mumu! I was the one who asked you out or helped you, you that was just doing special friend up and down she jokingly stated. We laughed over her statement, as I tried to justify that I asked her out. More often has it been said that the best way to ensure you win your girlfriend is to be friends with her girlfriends, especially her best friend. While I remember this from the Guy code handbook, I never intentionally stressed to be friends with Doyin’s friends, we all just bonded like some nicely done woodwork. I was good with people, not to brag, but I could cut across any age from Baby boomers down to the Millennial or even Generation Z, we would certainly have some healthy dose of conversation and you would look forward to having another conversation, the trick was to listen more than talking, and also show that you are listening, by adding affirmative fill-ups where necessary; this is after you have found the unique interest that tickles your candidate’s fancy though. This is quite an important tool before launching out any conversation. Her Father suddenly walks in from his room saying he was headed out to the mosque for prayers, holding his Tesbiu while exchanging pleasantries with me, his eyes shuttled between looking at me and the meal placed in front of me by Doyin. It was at this point it dawned on me that I had messed up eating at their place knowing that Ramadan is the holy month of fast, and in as much as I was offered a meal, I shouldn’t have heeded to my girlfriend’s stroke of affection, at least not at this time. Doyin happens to be the only daughter from a Muslim family of four, and by birth, she and her family practiced Islam. While she had her reservations about religion, her father had always mentioned his stance on upholding the family tradition by default, which meant she stays true to the religion even in her choice of spouse. Well, love is stupid, and it again chose candidates like myself and my pretty girlfriend. I was born into the Christian faith from the cradle; my family might have shuttled Pentecostal denominations after my mom found faith, and sought direction other than being mediocre.  Even though my dad had always been liberal on this quest for seeking God, being a Muslim was never openly considered an option, perhaps he had his reservations, but I know I have heard him say in one of our rare talks that there is only one God, and living right as an individual and showing love to your neighbors should be the only metric for validating a life well spent, instead of worrying about identifying with a common religious group or ideologies. Since I was almost an expert in having conversations with anyone, I had spread my potion on my supposed Father-in-law, or what could we have called it then, I mean, I had prospects on getting married to her, and it was real for both of us. We had brewed conversations on politics to social culture and a little here and there during my number of visits, and like every clairvoyant, I had my charm, but until this day I had chosen a meal as a Christian during a visit to a Muslim home during Ramadan. This was certainly my breaking point as Hooke's law defines it. Time passed, days into months and months into years, Doyin and I enjoyed love newly, we grew each day as a subject of admiration amongst friends and families. We attended family functions together, I was known as hers and she was known as mine in our family spaces. We had attended educative and religious seminars together respectively, we had taken time out to travel with friends for wedding ceremonies and other happy moments; while we were indeed happy to show up for our friends, it was a good excuse to stay with each other, growing in love in different ways. It was clear, we were inseparable, everything just seemed right. Yeah, we have our moments, but never was it considered that one person bails out, thinking about it now, whenever we had our misunderstandings and we discussed them, we were open to addressing issues and solving them all with a merry heart.  The Love was beautiful, beautiful until the sunset. Just like it has been said that “the good thing about the bad thing is that, it always comes to an end; likewise, the bad thing about the good thing, is that it also always comes to an end.” Our love, which was almost too good to be true, started having cracks when Doyin started being moody at times, and when I inquire, she says her father had a brawl with her mother or her father had a brawl with her over marriage, religion, and posterity.  This started coming back more often; initially, she believed that it would fizzle out and her father would come through since he loves her, being the only daughter, urging me not to sweat it. However, this vibe was becoming more like a conversation as it appears in our lengthy conversations more often, that at a point we suggested to just split instead of postponing the day of doom, an almost inevitable. Tough thing was, we barely had this go past a week and we kept running back like a boomerang, talking about how hard it is to breathe or poop or something close to being impossible to do, and just as the sign on true lovers “Love lives here” was hung “open” in our hearts again.