Goriola’s Love Story …  Series One(With ‘Funmilayo) 

I’d always thought I was a cross between Einstein and Pele- you know, genius and consummate sportsman.My skin and hair almost convinced me (you never can tell with the African sun) that I really wasn’t Master Einstein. Then, since Pele never came to reclaim his long lost son, I had to settle with knowing I was simply ‘brilliant’ (well at least until I got to the university). I was also (let’s try for modesty)- ‘lucky’- information clung on me like gum, so I knew a lot more than the average in everything. For a little over twenty years I had it all- I played football in primary, secondary, university (and later in the platoon team during service year), I was a good sprinter, making relay teams in both primary and secondary schools and trying for the state. The
Cicero in me (I forgot to mention – I think he’s my uncle or something) made debate teams with (naturally) lots of prizes. My Pele-intellectual side was also a sports encyclopaedia (still is!). I was the guy “who wants to be a millionaire” would be worried about.  

Generally, I was a ‘good boy’- my only problem was a woman-issue- I loved women, and they loved me. I wasn’t even hard to please- dark, fair, smart, dumb, silly, fat, thin…  (I think I’ve covered most adjectives), I had them everywhere- school, church, extra mural classes, my neighbourhood, my friends’ neighbourhood, my cousin’s neighbourhood-everywhere.  It took to much trouble to remember their names so I simply called girls ‘baby’ (*Funmilayo cringes*).

But it was fun. It was easy and by the time I got to Unilag, I was the ‘Man’ and I wasn’t complaining. Everything was ‘perfect’- I convinced my dad to get me a car, and I had girls and more girls.

‘Unfortunately’, in my 100L, just when I was gearing into Casanova-mode, I started hanging out with one of my cousins at Lag, who had met this girl he liked. They were the ‘perfect’ lovebirds. They were always together – with this sickening-irritating smile. They seemed happy and I hated it. I tried to persuade him to ditch his girl and ‘have fun’. He just smiled and looked at me pityingly.

I hated him, I hated it… actually I hated the way I was, I hated the way I never seemed to have my own girl. I realised I was envious, not irritated at my cousin’s happiness. Soon, my Christian background kicked in and I prayed. I prayed for my own woman, someone I would love and eventually settle down with. Of course, I never let my guys on, knowing they would all snicker and laugh at me… I’d even laugh at me. But I prayed.

Nothing happened for a long time.

I thought about ‘settling’ down with one of the girls I was with but dem no make am. Soon I recruited Gbenga for my ‘Beauty-for-my-Beast’ search. Gbenga was ‘my guy’. We grew up together. Gbenga also knew all the girls but in a ‘Gbenga is my friend’ way.

Gbenga’s first nominee was Dupe, who was going to gain admission to Unilag the following session.

‘Nice one’, I thought- it was foolproof. Dupe would be a jambite, clean, fresh and waiting for the picking. In a few months, Dupe resumed and Gbenga introduced us one night. I didn’t see her that well but I saw enough to be convinced- she had a curvy body, and apparently fine and all mine to take. But like a proper omo boy, I took my time_, waiting for the right time.Soon enough, the ‘right time’ came in form of a show at the main auditorium and we agreed that I was going to pick her up by 11pm at her hostel. Promptly, minutes to 11pm I, Romeo was there, and since there were no mobiles then I had to send some chick to call me Juliet. Enter JulietYou could see the commotion, no it wasn’t her shorter shorts with never-ending legs in hooker-heels, barely under a backless spaghetti strap top; it was the five Romeos for one Juliet drama. Apparently, some other guys, three with unfriendly faces and boxer arms with cult written in red on their foreheads (the last one was my imagination), who I had casually spotted while waiting for Dupe downstairs, were also on the same quest. ‘Help me God’, I continued to murmur, as Dupe ‘dismissed’ all the others one after the other, while pointing me out as ‘the guy she was going to the show with’, punctuated with ‘maybe next time’s.

In between my ‘help me God’s, I was thinking of the fastest way to escape in case any of the boxer-arm-guys decided to take a swing at me- I could either beg, or just continue to lie down on the floor… or I could … Help me God….

‘Ok, let’s go’

Dupe interrupted my reverie and escape plans.

I looked up and we were alone at our corner of the lobby.

‘Let’s leave now, where’s your car?’

I mumbled something half-intelligible and we stepped out. It was then I noticed that her over made-up face didn’t match her botilicious body. But I wasn’t really disappointed, I wanted something serious, the over-made face could be remedied with soap, water and silently muttered advice on her ‘natural beauty’ with subtle make-up.

At the auditorium, I snaked out what I thought was a ‘hard-to-see’ corner- for safety (boxer-arms) and lustful (her shorts caused it!) reasons. I was just congratulating myself on our dark hideout when I heard ‘GASBIO!!!’ I turned to see some my guys, gathered in one corner, hailing me- ‘wa se ‘re, osomo’.  Dupe simply smiled at them and at that moment I made up my mind that this was our last date. Soon, I found some excuse and I asked that we leave. I dropped her off at her hostel and barely paused to say bye before I left.That was Friday.  

Monday, and I unsuccessfully tried to avoid Gbenga at the car park after lectures. ‘Man yi, You no try!’ Gbenga said in a ‘why cant you ever get things right?’ way.“Wetin now’, I pretended not to understand him.

“She told me that you barely said a word to her”

I quickly got on the defensive- “Aah, what could I say? The girl no pure o, imagine, there were five of us waiting to take her to the show”.“Ah! Sharp girl”“Too sharp for my health o…” I trailed off 

While I was trying to vindicate myself and assure Gbenga of my ‘seriousness’, I saw this girl, coming towards us, just behind Gbenga.

I’ll never forget that moment – she was wearing a white mid-elbow length shirt, layered with vertical lilac stripes on deep blue jeans with the same shade of stripes as belt with white slippers. Her hair was in a loose bun. She wasn’t wearing earrings, but she was wearing huge white and lilac bracelets.

She looked like fresh air.

And she caught me staring- I had my mouth opened. She tried to hide her smile.

I was trying to work my jaws to a ‘hi’, when she said-

“Gbenga, how now”My friend turned round and replied“Eh! Femi, wassup”

‘Femi’, that was her name.

Femi walked past us and into my life.