There was this new girl in class. We were in class 4. I was 9. The country was reeling from 7th August attacks by the Al Qaeda. I was recovering from holiday hangovers. I was dreading class 4. This was my first time to be reporting to school for afternoon classes. Half-days were over. Before I get carried away by the 98 December holidays, there was this new girl in class. There were others but then there was THIS girl. I noticed her. She didnt notice me. She was my first crush ever. Nobody had ever made me feel this way before. For purposes of confusing my enemies, lets call her E. I think we are friends on FB. And shes taken. One of those mysteries of life, you know. She was beautiful by any standards. She sat a few desks in front of mine, to the left. Had I known the lines I knew later in life, Id have approached her and whispered into her ear: After you there will be many, but before you there has been none. Or something more sensible than that. In other words, that chic made me transform one of my stationery into a gift. Few chics can make a guy want to transform anything into a gift. The gist of the gift wont lie in the item but rather in the heart that poured itself into an almost-worthless item and miraculously transformed it into something more precious than gold. We all know those self-proclaimed musical artistes who give you a disclaimer before they subject their vocal chords to unbearable torture. Listen to the words and not my voice...and if you know the song you can join me in the chorus. Thats irrelevant. What Im trying to say is that this chic, lets call her E, made me misplace all my thoughts. Pass this to that chic and tell her that her mother sent me to bring this to her, I told the boy who sat in front of me. That boy who sat right behind this meticulous girl, E. Right between E and I. Anyway, I gave that boy a sharpener. My sharpener to pass on to E. And a message to that effect. She never noticed me all this time. I stared at her throughout classes. Distracted. If I had money Id but this girl a patco during break time, a thought raced through my mind. No, Id bring her my excellent report cards from nursery school, just to show her that Im the best wolf in the pack, another silly thought. Ill walk her home. Find out more about her, a wild thought tip-toed in my mind. Oh well, most guys have met that one chic that makes such thoughts pitch camp in the core of their being. Sadly, this was the time boys were told, Girls are bad. Girls were told, Boys are bad. That was when being seen getting too cosy with your class 3 classmate of the opposite gender would create a scandal that would make your parents forget Pattni, Kotut and the whole Goldenberg scandal. I lost my sharpener to a girl I noticed. By she never noticed me in return. She was the first girl I ever took note of. I was just a nine year old boy. And she was just a girl. My first crush.
Posted on: Tue, 12 Aug 2014 16:29:15 +0000
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