Love...part 1

as corny as it may sound, i was in love once and i don't know if i will ever find it again... i had the best girl in the world and i still know deep down inside she still feels something for me...possibly hatred but something nonetheless.

it wasn't always like this...no! ok, let me start from the top... i had just got come back from London...(Jand for my Nija peps)...borga borga, and i was loaded. i had been gone four months working like a slave to make some change and as chance might have it i met some silly yet rich Oburoni who was willing to cater for all my needs, to the point of buying me a brand new Range and a weekly allowance to rival my father's salary... let's just say i had not a want in the world.

"fresh boy Chupa-Chops, ma lande". i didn't even go home from the airport, went straight to the habour to pick up my whop. all i was saying was this is year for me, my time to shine...i had the essential things the all material girls on campus wanted (first target)... the wheels, the loo, the MacBook Pro, the wardrobe to boot and charly "me naa abi den i fine small wey the 'London' weather make ma colour come kakra too". recipe for disaster!

blues skies welcomed me back to campus and with it the heat of the Ashanti sun. for some reason, the heat was unbearable and i made it a point to let everyone around me know so. my roommates could not get over the fact that i had car let alone a Range but they were mad happy for me because just the previous semester "gari saf den i dey wire for some", now i was the talk of town... the female species seemed to notice me now. i was no longer ' that boy', i had a name. i knew this would happen and i was prepared, i might have become a vain, shug-anything-that-dares prick but i still had my brains and the true friends who had my back when i had nothing got all the attention.the block, as we called it, was the place to be even before my new celebrity status but became much more because of it. my room Club 12i, the hub for all the hot chicks on campus to be at any given time. if you were looking for your girlfriend, she was probably ''fors-skinng" one of the boys to get to me.

days of endless fun became mundane and all i did was a repetition of the previous. there was no fun in flying you and your boys to Accra every weekend just to ball and come back in time for the test on Monday and then get back on the plane back to Accra...it became pointless, i had lost the zest for life... nothing seemed to be nice anymore. i would outside all night long to escape from the suffocation of the gold diggers and the stinking boys who hadn't bathed in days because they were playing Fifa throughout.

i would sit on the famed Short Wall, Dre Beats blazing the latest tunes through my ears, Marlboro Lights in one hand, Orangina in another and waiting on Wazobia to finish my order...well that night, like any other night, as i looked up through plume of smoke, there she was... walking fierce, long ass hair, Jordin Sparks figure, in bum shorts, Ralph Laurent polo tee, rocking brand new limited edition Jordan iD sneakers and...pause! she was cussing someone out in a language i couldn't understand...