Romance: I introduce gift to night class

The other day, Mr Rasheed gave an impromptu test in which we weren't only mandated to find the solution of an equation using matrices, but also through Laplace transforms. Not only did I fail the test comfortably, but the Engineering mathematics lecturer who seconded as a pastor in one of these Bible believing churches saw it good to reward me with a 0/10 score. He was one of the honest lecturers left in school, however, he was much hated for his unwavering stance. I was one of those students who were more concerned about life in this country than in finding solutions to what we considered a mere equation.

Two more impromptu tests followed in quick succession, all bearing the same score. I knew I had to put in an effort. Ever since I laboriously got admission into the university, I never for a trial attended their night classes. For my little delicate body's sake, I never missed the doctor-recommended eight happy hours of sleep each day. Infact, since getting into school, I thought I made a destiny pact with sleep. What motivated my unavailability in the widely attended night class was that even in my sleep routines, my glorified C’s and D’s were better than my night-class-going neighbour's ‘EFCC’s’. Now, with my recent performance I considered a rejig.

One glorious evening, emerging from my neighbour, Sandra's room rubbing the contours of my stomach after a heavy fill, I decided to try out night class. Today's meal at Sandra's had few to rival. Her new boyfriend which I knew was one of those in her ‘yeye boys list’ had given the beautiful girl money to plait a new hair. Now the money which was in excess was used by her instead to cook a well concocted Afang soup. As someone who would ever fall in love with her soups, and taking advantage of God's promise that if he could provide for the birds which never sowed, he would provide for his people, I ate as if my money was ever used in the preparation.

Walking down to school and entering one of the pavilions, I got the surprise of the year. In all my schooling life, I thought night class was meant for reading, but I was incorrect. At the right of the door I entered with, a young girl who thought she was beautiful was deep in a heated romantic discussion with a male who could easily have been her father. To my left was a party of football lovers who were narrating how Chelsea and Manchester United whose recent dim in form has become their concerns in school they were sent to. I allowed a smile as I welcomed the fact that this happy association of football analysts existed right into night sessions.

Further down my left, the “Isaisa mkpo” group were having much of a fulfilled day discussing their notorious escapades, spewing indecent words in the course of it. Still in the hall which had about fifty night class participants were boyfriends, ex-boyfriends, girlfriends, ex-girlfriends, ‘ex-ex-girlfriends’, crushes, and those who were on a date under the guise of night reading. With my little eyes which has continued serving me since 1999, I noticed that all persons had either a dictionary size text or exercise books in front of them. There were also those who came to sleep off their worries in the accompaniment of noisy companions. As a gentleman I am always known for, I gently found myself a seat in the middle of this pack and dozed off my first day in night class.

The second day, haven read two pages of my engineering mathematics exercise book, I joined the football analysts crew. From football, the discussions proceeded to politics and finally to a much awaited romance and relationship talks. Although I enjoyed much of the backlash thrown at the person who thought he was the president of the “banana” republic, especially as he recently labelled the attractive youths of the country ‘lazy’, I was more concerned about the interesting relationship gists.

A young boy who rejoiced in the name of Solomon bragged about his dating prowess and his ability to turn strict ladies into stones for his picking. To the extollation of his name, he announced that he currently has thirty-four university girls which he was in an intimate relationship with. He went further to narrate how his touch-and-follow antics has brought him clout among the female folks.

With few additional advices from fellow boys there, I considered continuing my relationship with Gift, our beautiful church member. The dog-and-cat friendship which I had with Gift ended because I couldn't align to her ways, and wasn't prepared to do so either. In my wild recollection, I wondered why I left such ‘wife-material’ of a girl who never failed to spur my spiritual and academic developments by her witty encouragements.

After a week of night classes, my academic performance improved and I deduced that the gods of little advices were pleased in my ways. To tell the truth, yesterday, I had double 5/10's in the tests, an occurrence that only happens once in a new blue moon. To celebrate such uncommon a feat, I personally sponsored the feeding of my new ephemeral advicers at the much revered cafeteria.

Later in the evening, I called at Gift's place, inviting her to night class. To take her out for the supposed class, I had to honestly convince her that I had definitely turned a new leaf, and was prepared to be serious henceforth about studies.

Now Gift was a 300 level student of Mathematics. She wasn't the type who do go for artificial makeovers, as she was moderate in all her dressing and added no makeups. She was much naturally beautiful for one who was also intelligent. Her cumulative grade point average was in the first grade and I appreciated how I had found favours in the sight of God to meet up with this unique mathematician.

The few weeks of my night class with Gift generated some storyline gossips in the church. As a matter of fact, dating a church girl has always been a problem. In services, all admonitions were reprogrammed towards the ‘disadvantage of unmarried boy and girl friendships in school’. My campus Minister, a person who knew my parents informed me that my ways were becoming unworthy. But that however didn't deter me from continuing my puppy-love companionship. 

So a fateful morning, taking into consideration the advices I had obtained from those boys, I went to Gift's room and made a formal proposition for her to be my girlfriend. Drawing me closer to herself, with our breathing loudly heard by the both of us, she slapped the devil out of me. Now all my entire life, I haven't been slapped that way before, let alone being slapped by a girl. The slap followed a rough creasing of my ears as she whispered: “you really didn't need to be this stupid, you must change for good.” She told me she doesn't take nonsense!

#fiction

NUGGETS: 

1️⃣ Behind every great/successful man there stands a woman.

2️⃣ A virtuous woman is described as a woman whose price is above 'Rubies'. She is a woman who cannot be bought with any currency in the world; no price can be placed on her.

“Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above rubies.” — Proverbs 31:10