Let Me Tell You About My Soldier Boy

Years ago, a boy liked me. He would later come to be known as Soldier Boy in my life. Let me tell you about him.

I met Soldier Boy when a friend of mine graduated from high school. So, yes, I, too, was a teenager then. I believe I was 18 to be exact. Another friend of hers whom I had never met before this day was also there. After the ceremony, the plan was to go back to this friend’s house, and I agreed.

My friend was from Cameroon, and her friend was from Ghana. My friend’s friend lived with her boyfriend who was Nigerian, and this younger brother also lived with him. That younger brother was Soldier Boy.  Yes, I know we’re starting to sound like ECOWAS. 

Soldier Boy and I exchanged numbers and started talking on the phone. He was pretty cool. He liked me a lot and according to him, he was going to “trek to Africa and shit” for me. Soldier Boy was newly in America and still very heavily influenced by the American accent and urban style. He wore oversized pants and durags, and spoke through his nose. I was not at all attracted to that. Still, he was a Nigerian boy, and he seemed pretty cool.

Soldier Boy pursued me heavily. At the time, I lived with my mom and did not own a cell phone. Soldier Boy would call the home phone and leave a message on our answering machine about how much he wanted and loved me. Aaaahhh! The thing that saved me was that I always got to that voicemail before my mother. Otherwise, the slaps I would have received would have been noteworthy and history-making. And this was the answering machine that would have a red blinking light to alert you to new messages, and as soon as you press Play, your messages would echo loudly throughout the room. So, just imagine my mother’s reaction if she had heard any of those messages — left for her 18-year-old daughter for that matter.

Soldier Boy, in spite of his newly acquired American accent, was still a typical Nigerian guy: very aggressive in his pursuit of me. The more I said no, the harder he chased. He even sent bouquets of flowers to my house, but thankfully, once again, I was there to intercept them before my mom discovered them and showed me that atilogu was the dance of the spirits. I guess I couldn’t accuse him of not being romantic abi?

Eventually, we lost contact – don’t remember why or how. Then years later, I went to a house party and saw Soldier Boy. He was different! He was now an akpu obi guy. Big muscles. Cute smile. Melanin on fleek. Dimples on display.  Apparently, in the years that we lost contact, Soldier Boy had joined the army and bulked up. He had also grown up (obviously). The American accent was gone, and so were the oversized pants and durags. These days, he just flashed a set of pearly whites and spoke pidgin English in the sexiest way I had ever heard.

Once again, Soldier Boy began his pursuit of me. But once again, I declined.  He would say to me, “Vera nah … make we do dis ting nah …” And I would blush from East to West. We had really good conversations on the phone, but they always lost their flavor once he started talking about us becoming a couple. 

Soldier Boy was a very good-looking guy. Sexy, in fact. But I liked him too much as a friend. And I remember how he’d say, “Oh, yeah?” whenever I said something interesting. He bought me birthday gifts and showed his affection clearly, but I just wasn’t connected in that way. I remember for one birthday, he bought me a $300 Nokia phone, which at that time, was a pretty big deal. I had the best phone on the block!

Soldier Boy would tell me over and over, “Vera, na over-sexy dey worry you oh.”  I thought those words were the sexiest words I had ever heard. And when he did mention my name, he would drag it out, “Verrrraaaaa.”

Remember how Funmie used to date my “boyfriends” with me? Well, Soldier Boy was one of said guys. Funmie used to lose her mind over his Pidgin English. She and I thought it was the sexiest thing we had ever heard. I still quite find it to be the sexiest thing I have ever heard. Or it comes a close second. And I remember when that song, “Soldier” by Destiny’s Child was the song to beat and Soldier Boy said he could be my Soldier, and that no one ever made a song about needing or wanting a marine. He was throwing shade at my friendship with My Marine. I rememver that too well.

I don’t know where Soldier Boy is today. We haven’t communicated in maybe two years. I don’t know if his number is even still the same, but I definitely remember him, and I remember he said that over-sexy dey worry me. And now, I’d like over-sexy to actually worry me for real.

In the near future, I’ll show you how.