While I was driving to wherever I was driving to two days ago, I remembered my friend, Bianca – not her real name, but close enough – and how we rapidly became close. Both of her parents were half Nigerian and half Lebanese, so I don’t know what that made her – quarter cast? – but she looked like a very light-skinned black girl. Her hair was the same texture as mine, except longer. She was beautiful. She had big eyeballs, pink lips, and big breasts. They weren’t that big really, but next to mine, almost any pair of breasts were bigger. She wore a 36C, while I was still in a training bra (and I was a year older than her). If she could see me now.
Anyway, Bianca had a boyfriend. She always had one anyway. I, on the other hand, I was shy of all boys, even those that were related to me. I think my cousin, Nachi, was the only one I was not shy to be around. I grew up as an only child’ I was mommy’s and daddy’s baby, and I went to an all-girls high school. I never stood a chance. But not Bianca.
I was in SSI – 10th grade for the Americans – when Bianca was dating a governor’s son. He attended Air Force Boys Military School, Jos, and that was supposed to be hot. Truthfully, they looked smart. A bunch of young, good-looking boys in soldier uniforms. Heck yeah. Anyway, so she was dating this governor’s son, don’t remember his name. He always came over – more like sneaked over – and brought her expensive gifts: designer watches, perfumes, bags. Ah, e don tey since government dey chop our money.
I didn’t have all of those things, nor did I know anyone who could buy me those things. Bianca always shared though. I remember my first designer perfume: Tommy Girl by Tommy Hilfiger. Then Romance by Ralph Lauren. I loved them. Since I couldn’t afford any of them, I took the time to write their names down. E also don tey since my eye dey up. I was determined to use them one day. Now that I think of it, that might explain why I once owned 38 bottles of perfumes.
One day, Bianca sneaked out of school — and I went with her – the mumu accomplice. Her boyfriend had rented a hotel room close to her house and was apparently dying to see her. I went with her because her aunt trusted me to be the good girl and knew that her niece was the bad girl. Because of that, Bianca was always safe whenever she said she was with me. So off we went to this hotel to see her boyfriend.
He came with two of his friends, and all five of us were in one little hotel room that barely had enough leg room for all of us. And this was supposed to be a good hotel. While Bianca and her boyfriend engaged in a heavy make-out session which included tongue-kissing and boob-squeezing, the rest of us pretended not to know what was going on. Awkward. Being the shy girl that I was, you cannot imagine the hell that was burning inside me.
In the middle of pretending not to know what Bianca was doing with her boy, one of the boyfriend’s friends – an Igbo boy whose name I cannot remember now … Iyke? Nnamdi? Ifeanyi? – came over to me and started rubbing my back. Ah, I ran away oh! Shy girl from St. Louis College, and you’re rubbing my back. No, oh. But apart from my shyness, there was another reason why I did not want him touching me.
It was Muyiwa. I was madly in love with him. Muyiwa was the other friend was who just sitting there, pretending not to know what was going on. Unlike me, however, he did not have an unwelcome distraction. I loved Muyiwa for one reason alone. It was not his looks (I don’t remember what he looked like); it was not for his money (I don’t know if he had any); it was not for his intelligence or charisma (I knew nothing of that). It was his name. Muyiwa. I did not know what it meant. At that time, I did not even know it was a Yoruba name. Something about the sound of it just felt at home. Muyiwa.
Strangely, we never talked. But I secretly loved him … until I couldn’t remember his name anymore. But it was great while it lasted. And it is only now – while typing this post – that I have learned the meaning of the name. Full name: Oluwamuyiwa = God brought this / God has given this / God’s gift.
I wonder how Muyiwa is doing.
UPDATE: READ “HIS NAME WAS MUYIWA – THE CONCLUSION”
P.S. In case you’re wondering, I no longer own 38 bottles of perfume. I now own 14, and I have no intention of buying another one, until I use up every last drop of these ones.
I am laughing here Vera, guess this is the edited version not the whole truth..
We need the unedited version, the part you “did not run away” I assume…lol
Rewrite jare or you think we your fans are mugu..lol
Good morning to you
Funsho, warn yourself oh! Lol. The Vera you see here is not the Vera of before oh. In fact, when people from my childhood discover me and how open I seem to be, they are sometimes surprised.
lol @Funsho Vera please post the x-rated version this one is PG 13 hahaha thank God you said your Bianca’s parents were half lebanese i thought it was my friend with an almost similar name only difference is she is half eastern european and half naija. And am i weird for secretly wanting to get married to a confused (read mixed race) guy the more the confusion (read nationalities) in the mix the better lol. 38 bottles of perfume do you have a lab in your house?
Lol at the confusion. I wouldn’t say you’re weird per se. Compared to some of the strange things I have read and seen, you are definitely okay by me. Good thing we are not talking about the same person ehn? Per the lab, I don’t have one oh — at least, not yet anyway. There is no telling what the future holds for me. Lol. And don’t mind Funsho. He just likes to come here and find trouble.
When you are the only one in your class still in a training bra ( I assume this is the same one we called ‘Bra top’ back in the day?), you don’t want anyone rubbing your back – period!
I remember how embarrassed the late bloomers always were, when nosy classmates go around touching girls backs to fish out those that were still bra-less!
Ok, so back to the main gist jare. After you supposedly and allegedly ran away, what happened 😛
Bis, what is the meaning of this your “allegedly ran away?” That sounds like an accusation to me. Lol. After I ran away, nothing else happened. Wait, you know what? Something did happen. Shoot, I forgot to complete this story. I think I need a Muyiwa Part Two. Will definitely work on that.
And yeah, girl, it was definitely a bra top. By age 15, I was still in a training bra. The girls who had breasts used to complain of pain in their developing bosom, but I, the flat chested one, I knew nothing of it. And I wanted so badly to feel the pang of having your bra strap pulled. *sigh* …. It was a dark time in my life. Lol.
Vera, am patiently waiting for Part 2 of this story. Want to know where u allegedly ran away to:-) Funny write up, it reminds me of the bra top days.
You’re one of the bad people calling my running away an alleged action abi? Lol. Okay, no problem. My God will vindicate me in Part II of this story. Lol. Thanks a lot for reading 🙂
I love all the contributors on this topic, they are basically with me on this one confirming we are not duhhhh, so Veeee you better start part 2 and tell us wetin really happen…
The type of drama am looking for i.e you ran, he followed with his jerry curls hair and tribal marks, you stared in his eyes but too much ororo as face cream distorted the eye contact, you held Muyiwa so closely but slippery due to the oil from his jerry curls e.t.c that is the line am looking for.
Since you are a brilliant writer am sure you will write part 2 so well to put the drama right in our faces..
Oya omoge my beautiful Onyinye go on….lol
SMH. Something is doing you oh! Curly hair, ke? Mba. Not my Muyiwa. Not to worry, I will draft the second part of the story. I honestly forgot all about it when I put up this post. And for the record, the only reason people are doubting me now is because you put it in their heads. My people are good people!
i shudder to imagine how many bottles i own and I refuse to count for fear of… well just for fear.
Haha…. the first Muyiwa I knew was our/my parent’s driver whilst I was growing up so no positive connotation to that name for me
But it WOULD be the igbo boy that will come FIRST and try to be “starting something”
My dear, it was indeed the Igbo boy oh. Looking back on it now, who could blame him? He was in a room watching (and/or hearing) his friend making out with a girl. It was the only other girl in the room, and perhaps, by reason of coming from the same tribe, he had to have first dibs on me (before Muyiwa). Who knows?
ROTFLMAOn Ferrrrraaaaa o!!! U wunt be the death of me. The training bra era is now over. I guess u shud be singing ‘He has done great things, bless His h-o-l-y name’. U need deliverance o! 38bottles of perfume?!I guess that sounds within reason in comparison wv some pple who own several hundreds pairs of shoes. It is well. Muyiwa better resurfaces and claim his crush from Igwe!
Honey,
I wasn’t his crush though. He was mine — for all the wrong reasons. I’d never recognize him if I were to see him today. And I know for sure he won’t recognize me. In fact, he might not even remember anything about me.
Per the perfumes, it was a dark time in my life. LOL. I just kept on buying and buying. Oh, well. Oh, but I’d absolutely love to have hundreds of shoes. That would be lovely.
Hahahahaha @ the song choice. How apt.
the “training bra” thing reminds me of the beard thing for guyz,how badly I wanted it then….used “spirit” tire,enough shaving sticks cos it was believed to make them grow even when you have no hair there.Now I’m 28,nothing yet except for some troublesome little little ones trespassing.and when I see small boys with punk on their cheeks,calling out to me in a commanding tone,I just stare and laugh…No Be Una Fault,na the bie bie and the big body wey I no get.Anyways what happened to Bianca?where is she now?
Hahahaha at the punk on the face. I actually remember the spirit thing. My cousin used to do the same thing, used to rub spirit all over his face everyday to make it grow. It never did – not at that time anyway. It’s all grown now. He’ll be 29 next month. Bianca is married with a son now, and she now lives in Lebanon. Her husband is Lebanese too. I’ve got to write that follow-up story to this Muyiwa gist, although the follow up doesn’t have much to do with Muyiwa.
vera u have killed me o. ahahahahaha
love it
Lol. Thank you, love! Glad you’re laughing. Tehehehe.
Now this is soooooo funny.Things we did in our teenage lives secodary school precisely.I think critics shouldn’t be welcomed here because so many have uglier experiences…
Nice one Vera
At least u understood what it means to zip up and wait for d right guy.
LWKMD
Thank you, HushBaby!
I’m so glad that I was so shy back then. Because now that I am no longer shy, I am now also older and wiser. There are too many stories to tell about our secondary school days. Lol.
Muyiwa is a blessed name.Hoever,there bad and xter 4 every name-there are bastard muyiwa and there original muyiwa.