Dear New girl in class sitting in the front row, I am in love. When the principal brought you to class today, I saw an angel. I was so lovestruck, I didn’t hear your name during the introduction. I think this might be love at first sight. How are you? How are your parents? What did you have for breakfast? Did you have a good night rest last night? I hope you didn’t walk to school today. What am I saying? I believe I’m confused. Please tell me, is there a special routine that is a secret of your beauty? Your beauty is innate. The English mistress says that means it is from within you. I like the word. ‘Innate’. Suitable only for an angel. My angel. My seatmate Tunde has smacked me three times in the past one hour because I seem to be smiling stupidly. Can I buy you lunch at the cafeteria today? I want to talk to you. Please smile at me. I have tried to get up and come to your seat, but it seems like my shorts are stuck to the bench. I wish you would smile at me, then we’ll get married, and have children. Fine children. Little angels. I can see them already. Will you marry me? You are very intelligent. You had a high mark in the math quiz and the math master was pleased. I didn’t. I was ashamed when I had to get my knuckles rapped with a ruler in front of the class. I’m a big boy. I didn’t cry. I can be your hero. I don’t cry. I will fight your dragons and cross seven seas. Do you know, that’s what heroes do. The book I was reading yesterday during recess, the knight had a big sword and he fought for the maiden princess. You are a princess. No, angel. No. Both. The geography master told us about Geneva yesterday. I want to take you there. You will be the princess of Geneva, and I will be the King. No, sorry. Prince. Or…you will be the queen and I will be the king. We will live happily ever after. Please smile at me. Your ebony skin shines like Ali’s forehead after he has run a relay race during P.E. I will buy you creams and scents so it will shine more. I like your hair braids. You breasts are like oranges. Tunde giggled when I told him. He’s a small boy. He doesn’t know anything about girls. He is jealous of our love. I’m sure. I will now put my pen down before my ink runs out (I learnt that last week). I will talk to you tomorrow. Should I bring you sweets? Mohammed in my street sells baba dudu. I can buy for you. Smile at me and hold my hand when I give you. I have to stop now, before Mistress comes into class. Kiss on the paper to you. I love you. P.S my name is Ife. What is your name? Your love, Ife at the back of the class
Posted on: Sun, 01 Sep 2013 10:56:57 +0000
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