MY LOVE JOURNEY.The first boy who made my heart beat. This is a story I never shared. This is a story about teenage love. it explains how to teenagers in a village setting fall in love.

There was this 3rd term holiday, I can’t remember the class in which I was but I know I was in secondary school.

During that holiday, we had inter-village football matches. Youths from Bermin, Bambe, Ntale, Epen, Bajwe would visit our village, Babubock for 2 days to play a friendly.

For this experience, my quarter, Muabwe Aka Petit-Douala was playing with Bermin.

That fateful Sunday, as usual, the ladies gathered at the president’s house. our village girls had to cook to entertain their guests. I also took part in the cooking you know. I remember we cooked Ndolle, plantain, fufu, soup and fried some fresh fish.

After we were done with the cooking, I rushed home, boiled some eggs, made some delicious pepper sauce, took my bath, dressed up and hit the road to go watch the ball and sell my eggs.

Muabwe, my village quarter was playing Bermin, another neighbouring village that day.

It wasn’t long, Bermin boys started trooping in. They were very young and energetic. They carried backpacks and spoke in their mother tongue.

While on my way to the field, I passed by my friend’s place, Leonada and we all went to the field.

The match started, it was a tough one. After playing for 90mins, my quarter won and it was jubilation all over the village. Our mothers joined us the Petit-Douala girls and we sang and danced from one end of the village to another.

After the excitement had died down, everyone went home, had a rub down and came back to the reception ground for part 2.

That was where I met my first heartbeat

The first boy who made my heartbeat part 2

Remember I told you about the 1st man to buy a tv set in my village? Yes, we were meeting at his place, inside his dance/film hall.

If you would love to know about the man, I have the story on edukesink.com

After all the speeches and awards giving, it was time to eat.

My village girls were looking hoooot. You know how village girls them naturally fine nor? Fair, fresh, beautiful, some dressed in multi-coloured hair, blue jeans skirt or trouser, pink top, yellow slippers, small dry eyebrow, red lipstick and purple eye shadow

I was wearing a pair of black jeans trouser, with my small red top and black sandals. I had a pointed nipple cos I wasn’t wearing bra-my breasts just started growing.

While “our boys” were rearranging the hall for food to be served, the ladies were bringing in the food flasks.

Their appetite was getting wet with the aroma emanating from the food. You know when village girls cook Ndolle? Only the fried oil and onion for on top fit to move your nose.

Prayers were said and it was time to serve the guests and our players. The whole village was at the reception ground. Some were hanging at the windows and doors while others sat outside.

Since it was fufu. I took a jar filled with water and a bowl, passed round to serve those who wanted to wash their hands.

I noticed a strange face was looking at me. The person was dark, short, handsome though and popular amongst his friends. Hhhmm! It wasn’t a usual face I knew in the village. Remember everyone knows everyone in the village. The strange person looking at me was among the guests who came to play though I didn’t see him in the field.

When I came to him, I showed him the bowl in my left hand, poured the cold water with my right hand and looked away. But he was looking at me in one kind of way like thaaaat. Hhmm! Wetti I go do eeeh?

I quickly passed him and went back with the water. Unfortunately for me, while sharing the food, I was the person to serve him again.

What will you eat? I asked in the dialect. ” I go chop na fufu.” He responded and his voice didn’t almost come out. I am sure it was fright. He had seen his heart beat.

Strange! A normal village boy won’t answer in pidgin. He would have responded in the dialect. This strange boy kept looking at me.

I brought his food and he said “Thank you.” Ha! A village boy won’t do that. I noticed he was fidgeting whenever he saw me.

I started fidgeting too. Though I was a teenager, I knew when people started feeling funny about me.

When everyone had eaten, we packed the flasks and plates and sent them behind. My friend, Leonada was going towards him and they discussed like they knew each other. Ah ah! Who is this boy? I asked myself.

But they were discussing and looking at me. Ha! It was almost dancing time. You know Nah? Village people with dancing time.

Mind you, the village doesn’t have electricity, everywhere is dark. Almost all the youths studying and working in town are in the village. It is a period when old lovers meet again and new friendships are built. This night is a night in which many things will happen.

Do you want to know how he approached me?

Please comment let me know what you want to know about the first boy who made my heart beat.

The first boy who made my heartbeat part 3:The part where my heartbeat heavily

Before I knew it, the hall was full. Villagers from neighbouring quarters and villages who heard about the occasion came to see for themselves.

Lovers started looking for their partners. Everyone was holding someone on their shoulder or waist except a few of us. I was lost. I couldn’t understand what was happening. While others stood at the sound of the first music, the “mature” ones went outside to catch up with friends. It used to be so sweet.

Then came Leonada and the guy, Eduke, she said. Na my brother this, salute ei. She also told him to greet me.

I didn’t know what to say. My heart responded instead. It skipped like it was about to come out of my chest. I was speechless. I smiled while looking down.

What was his response? He coughed and asked how I was and I answered, fine.

I can’t remember how it ended but I am sure I ran home. My dad was at home. He was the type who never allowed a fly to greet his daughter. He could chase you with a gun.

The Bermin boys went back the next day and I couldn’t see the first boy who made my heart beat the previous night.

All hope was not lost. I knew I will see him though I didn’t know when.

But we met again, this time in another scenario.

How did we meet again?

There was this market day still during that holiday. Babubock market days happen every after 10 days.

I was on my own ooo, frying my accra beans for sale when I saw some young men coming from a footpath behind a famous oven in the village. For those who know the Bermin road leading to Babubock, you know what I mean.

I was done frying and ready for the market when I saw these guys. In front of the group was a short, dark, fine boy wearing a brown long sleeve top over a short pair of trousers. As usual, he was explaining something.

He looked like a face I once saw. My heart skipped again and I whispered to myself “Is that not Ambas?” That was the name we called him.

I was happy to see him again after separating abruptly during the last match. Leonada had told me his intentions already. I couldn’t stop smiling when she was explaining though I was shy. You know love things nah.

She had told me he lived in the city and came to the village for holidays and will soon go back. She also said he was her uncle’s son and he was a good boy.

While going to the market, I passed by Leo’s place. Upon opening the door to her room, I saw someone inside, Jeeezzz!! I froze.

Seated on Leo’s bed was the guy I have been dreaming about looking so fresh and young. Handsomeness was an understatement. He smelled so good. He wasn’t like the other village boys who looked shabby. His toe and fingernails were very clean. He had a cute haircut and a well-ironed dress on. I wonder where he got an iron. Well, city boys will always be city boys.

“Eduke how?” He asked. The sound of his voice made my heart skipped again, this time more seriously.

As usual, I couldn’t answer his hearing. I was tense, shy, afraid and imagining at the same time.

What if this guy raped me here, what will I do? I asked immediately, Where is Leo?
Leo don go wash. Cam wait for ei. Ei di cam.

My heart was not telling me oo. I left him there and sat in the parlour. My heart kept pouncing. Should I go on there again or should I go to the market and not see Leo again? I asked myself.

Stay and wait for Leo, I told myself. He left the room and came to the parlour. Nobody knew what was going on. Everyone was just busy with the market thing.

He started asking me questions and I was responding calmly.

Finally, Leo left the bath, came to the room and met us in the parlour. We followed her inside and a smooth discussion began. I was less tensed and ok then.
That was how we spent the whole day together and my friend Ambas refused to go back to Bermin that day.

He spent over a week in Petit-Douala and I saw him every day.

All we could do was discuss and nothing else.

The things that went through my mind eeehhh, you won’t imagine.

I knew if he touches just my hair, I will be pregnant so I was doing social distancing.

Ambas and I never dated though many thought otherwise.

As days went by, he kept coming to our village on market and match days.

The reason why I shared this story was that I know what youthful exuberance can do to a teenage girl. I reflected on this experience and then understood why most of our teenage girls got and are getting pregnant. Plan International has given other reasons for teenage pregnancy in their article.

The feeling of being loved by a boy is so sweet. My case was different because I understood I had a very strict, wild and no-nonsense father. Besides, I knew I will get pregnant if I dared kiss a boy.

If you talk to your girl child about teenage love and show them, love, a boy’s love won’t be strange to them. They will be able to resist this temptation even their hearts beta 100 times more than mine.

Read about other teenage love stories on Edukesink via this link

https://edukesink.com/childhood/my-first-chattere-first-boy-to-ask-me-for-a-love-relationship/

Author

Hi, I am Eduke. I am a village girl. I'll love to share my journey with you hoping you share yours too with me.

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