Embarrassing Moments [Ep. 4]: My Humiliating Experience Wooing A Long Time Crush

 From December last year to February, there had been this female youth Corp member that recently parked into our street, way  I been done  dey observe. One tall, slim, fair, elegantly built damsel with a properly curved V-shape defensive midfield and two capital letter B attacking midfields.


Without a single doubt, I believe that the texture of her legs is absolutely what was on the mind of the producers of leggings when the concept came: slender, smooth legs, too awesome to walk upon this abominable surface of the earth.


Her lips: Oh, Mother Earth! Only the description in Proverbs 5:3 can do slight justice. Her eyes!

I don't want to go on and on about her enchanting physiognomy so as not to come off as a God-forsaking pervert, but bruh! In layman terms, "Three Adesuwa Etomi Wellingtons are like Suya in comparism with this girl." Her beauty eats them all.

Now, this beauty is not usually concealed only "in the eyes of the beholder." NO! Everybody could behold this one.

Married men, single men, role models, pastors, old and young, will always twist their necks to stare at the glory of her appearance. Her seductive mode of dressing was also not helping matters.


But one alarming thing I noticed was that after they would gaze and admire, none of these men had the balls to walk up to this lady. No one could approach. Including all the OGs that used to be my inspirations when I was still an upcomer in the wooing industry. 

Was it fear of getting embarrassed, fear of billing, or was there a spirit husband' in the mix? On this street, I have seen tight friends break bottles of HERO beer on themselves over a girl I would personally rate ZERO.

On this same street, I have witnessed the occasion of a woman emptying a can of KERO and was almost about to light a match on her husband's sidechick, VERO, who is way less attractive than this youth Corp girl. So I was really wondering why there were no Choas yet.

In two whole months of having such an extremely gorgeous goddess in our midst, has not a single friendship been ruined? Not a single home going through a marital crisis because of her? In fact, is no man at all wooing her?

Nah! Only a spirit husband is worthy of credit for this one!

And that was why it took a while before I approached; I was still observing.

The breakthrough finally came through the day I had bumped into her, one hot Thursday afternoon at one cool corner where just two or three were gathered—me, her, and about two kids or three thereabout. Oh! Perfect spot! Even if any form of embarrassment arises, I can clutch up as a man and take it as "one for the road.".

I said "Hi' to her, and surprisingly, man, she reciprocated with such a jovial "Hello" and such an exhilarating, broad smile that almost made it seem like she had been earnestly waiting for this day.


Eyaahh! I felt a slight pity for her, though! This cowardly attitude of my street guys and men must have really dealt a huge blow to her self-esteem. Imagine a girl whose only reason she isn't carrying Flavour Nabani's offspring is because she didn't contest MBNG 2023, shining the level of teeth with me. She must really be thinking something has gone wrong with her.

And that vulnerability did I take advantage of.

Without mincing words, I stated my damnn intention, but then she asked that we be friends first, then see where everything leads us. Big win still.

If I can get to this quarterfinal stage with just 'a goal on target', then imagine how many trophies I'll win when I score an actual game. If I could be offered a whole "friendship contract" because of this small roadside chyke, imagine the hell of a deal that could happen when I get to sync her with the actual romantic side of myself.


Ahhh! Without a second thought, I agreed, signed the deal, and sealed it by collecting my phone number.

Ever since then, we've been friends. We've been cool. To the utter shock, surprise, and dismay of friends and foes, I and this girl always move around.

But brethren, truth be told and Hype be piped, wetting I dey see, no be wetting I order o.

A friendship whose host was anchored on a path towards being "boyfriend and girlfriend later" started towing the path of Madam and Houseboy.

This friendship, which I started with a prospect similar to that of a greedy 17-year-old from Isiala-Ngwa venturing into crypto trade, has now given me more than 17 reasons to suspect the return of slave trade.

"Ebus, please, while returning from work, stop at Iya Yinka's buka and help me get fried rice. Let them add salad, eggs, and chicken. Buy, and when you come back, I'll refund you.

"Ebuka, I just wanted to boil hot water now, only to discover that my gas cylinder is empty. Please, I'll love you to help me go refill. I'm tired. I can't trek to the gas station. 


At 2:43 AM [midnight], this girl would call, "Ehh, Ebuka, please, can you come over? I've been unable to sleep. My body aches. I feel depressed. Please, I hope you wouldn't mind coming over to my place.


Brethren, to mention a few, these are these kinds of "service to humanity" chores that this so-called friendship has subjected me to.


No perks. No benefits!


Well, truthfully, the brand visibility it gave me is Juicy. Rolling with such an elegant, adorably built angel had in no small way made people respect, value, and esteem me more.

This 'high-value man' status I recently attain in the eyes of girls who used to see me as sh*t before. (I see the greenlight most of them give these days), and that hilarious shock screaming, 'How this guy take  run this package?' I see it on the faces of guys when they see me with this girl.  priceless perks, man!

But If only they knew that "inner, inner," nah, errand boy, I be


But yesterday, brethren, I decided to "horn the bull by the take." Remind her of our "Memorandum of Understanding." So I can know whether I'm accepted into the main gate or whether I will use the door. Because mannn! I can't keep up managing the meager ventilation I'm getting from this backyard window.

Yesterday, brethren was the day I decided to break the spell of this unspelled-out situation. 


And for the first time since the inception of this friendship, I went to her house uninvited, unsent for, and unannounced.

I knocked on her door a couple of times before she finally opened up, and when she did and saw, I could sense how almost nervous and uneasy she felt. With how guilty her eyeballs were at that moment, I could have almost suspected she was having a great time with a "sex toy" before I interrupted. But boy, I no send. I got in.


Well, contrary to those filthy thoughts of mine, before I came, she was actually watching a certain Netflix movie tilted "60 minutes" on her laptop.

Oh wow! What a timely movie. Perfect for the upcoming occasion. In less than those minutes, the failing or sailing of "whatever this is that we are doing" will be determined. 



In alignment with this catchy lyric line from a fraud-inspired song,whatever you see your friends do, follow them do, I joined her in watching the movie. As we watched together, I could still sense the uneasiness in her. She was probably still questioning herself about the reason for this surprise visit, more surprising on an afternoon when I should be at work.


I could sense, but I pretend as if I no get sense. Let's watch the movie first. Everything will make sense in a bit.


Great movie. Action packed. I was enjoying it. But like fifteen minutes into it, I thought it was time to journey into the main action. Suddenly, I paused the movie and stared straight into her anxiety-filled eyes, then asked, "Adeola, don't you think it's time to move this thing to the permanent site?


I guess those few minutes her eyes stayed glued to my eyes were moments of still trying to decode what exactly my question meant, and eventally, when she did, the reaction was a dehumanizing, gross belittling, stupidifying laughter. Have you even heard laughter with riffs and runs, embellished with soprano and tenor?

That kind of serialized laughter where one would laugh, laugh, and laugh, then pause and go for a short commercial break, then resume laughing. She did this for close to fifteen minutes. Such ridicule.


Mann!! I felt like a dustbin, waiting to be disposed of by the Enugu State Waste Management Authority (Eswama).

Well, as a mature, calm, stone-coded dude who is very much used to rejection, I didn't take offense. I allowed her to be boisterous in whatever it was that was hilarious to her.


After I was sure she had rounded up her laughter session, I asked, "So what's so funny, ma? That I asked for a review of this friendship and probably a system upgrade to Relationship? What's funny.

Again, she didn't reply to my question.

Out of the blues, she asked for my phone. For what? We're talking about the future of this situation, and first you laughed, then next you asked for my phone. What kind of craziness is this?


Well, I unlocked it and gave the phone to her.

Brethren, I unlocked and empowered her with the ammunition she used to finally nail me.

Straight to my message box, she went.

While I was wondering what she was searching for in my message inbox, she kept scrolling down the messages until she finally found the message she was looking for.


She paused, looked at me, and burst out in another bout of unprecedented laughter.

Again, I remained calm, waiting for this second half of the laughter session to come to a close. 

All I kept mustering deep inside, while she laughed, was that I would see to the end of this. If it's an Ogbanje spirit that is causing all this weirdness, I'll see to the end of it. 

If it's a spirit husband who has vowed that no man will find this girl attractive, and even if any should do, she would use this unattractive disposition of hers to chase the person away, we pin here. 

Thank God there is this celestial church down our street that flogs people with live pigeons until either the pigeon dies or the person faints, in the name of deliverance. We'll go there and sort out this case.

Normally, nah, battles way no concern me; I dey like fight.

I'm sure my village people, at this point were like "Awnnnn! Lover boy par excellence!"

Done laughing? I politely asked her to pass back the phone so I could see that SMS message from Bovi or Destalker that had kept her laughing.

She passed it, and brethren, 

Brethren! Brethren it was my first bank account, transaction, and balance all along. It was that one area of my life I would rather keep private, for reasons best known to me! 

People of God, I went mute.

Like a market thief finally caught after several minutes of being chased, I couldn't utter a word! Exactly how will I make any statement when my bank statement has already spoken for me?

How could I have fought for myself when the four-two [4,200 Naira] in my account has already destabilized my forte?


I simply bent my head over in utter shame and embarrassment, quietly wishing I could be supernaturally teleported from the room of this girl, who was now on an "extra-time" laughter session, to a warfront in Syria. 

See me trying to creatively trying come up with a procedure with which I can leave her room a little more heroic, when she dealt me the final blow.

This girl tapped my shoulder and said "So with those proceeds of yours, do you think we should proceed or wait till you succeed". Then bursted out in laughter again.. 

Adeola, The God I serve will never leave you unpunished. 



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