all that glitters ain't gold

Our high school experiences are often associated with prison life. I haven’t been to prison and hope that I never do. But for some reason, I also believe that high school was some kind of penitentiary. For starters, meals are pathetic and schedules are just crazy. They promise us a better future after four years but I was always a bit skeptical. In our literature class, they said that not all that glitters is gold and I lived but that code, well, until I forgot about it. Here’s the story of my life.

After high school, I join the best University in the city. I’m guaranteed good education and promised to land a luxurious job after graduation. But first things first, I have to endure the four years. I was used to the prison life where everything was regulated. Now that I have been liberated, I don’t know what to do with this much freedom. But wait a minute, I think I do. This takes me back to a promise I made to myself while back in high school.

I loved agriculture so much probably because of my strong agricultural background. My father and mother were both farmers majoring in horticultural farming. While growing up, my parents often assigned me tasks on the farm. I either delivered lunch to the few manual laborers or helped chase birds that fed on fruit and vegetables. This led me to the path of being a visionary young farmers’ club member in high school. Customary to our school, we attended every national agricultural show each year. During one of these trips, I got to see the world through a magnifying lens.

Beautiful campus ladies dressed in mini dresses and mini-skirts or mini-dresses speaking a tongue I could comprehend. You see, a young man like myself from the village was unaware of the city tongues. Their skin was lighter than anyone I had seen before. Their teeth seemed to reflect light every time they smiled or let out that cheeky laughter in response to their friend’s dry joke. I promised myself to earn the favor of one such lady and make her my queen. At the time, my perception of the world was in black and white or what I now refer to as zeros and ones.

Several years later I share a lecture hall with the same ladies. This was my chance to rise to alpha and snatch my prize. But campus life is quite different from what I thought or rather what I had watched in the movies. I heard rumors of a freshman’s night event hosted on the last Friday night of the first month after the admission of freshmen and women into campus. To me, this was not just a party. It was an initiation to campus and a bright future with everything at my disposal. A chance to exercise my self-justified right to earn myself a queen on campus grounds, one of those models I had seen on Instagram.

In my mind, this night would be the greatest night of my life. Ladies dressed inappropriately with me as the center of attention drinking keg straight from the pump, winning the competition, and earning the top model as my queen. Mind you, I did not consume alcoholic drinks before then. I think I had watched so many western ideal high school and campus TV shows. But tonight, the brightest rock was coming home with me. It did not matter whether or not it was gold.

Two hours into the freshman night event and there she was. My fellow freshmen had still not mastered the art of makeup so I was sure that she was not a fresh lady. She must have been in her third year of study. Elegantly dressed and chilled enjoying the DJ’s selection of afro music. Her light skin seemed to absorb the warmth in the hall as she glowed with every step, I took closer to her. She wore titanium-coated round earrings that reflected light every time she shook her head humming to the playlist. Her posture expelled this expensive aura that I presumed to be definitely out of my league. But I had a goal that night and I was not backing down at any cost. I needed to have one of these Instagram models as my queen tonight.

That night I had forgotten about all my favorite literature phrases. She glittered alright but it didn’t mean that she was my gold. Instead, she would turn out to be my golden egg but I didn’t know it yet. To me, either of them was gold. I had left my crib looking glamorous. I was ready to introduce my queen to my aboard which I presumed would soon be her castle. Whatever was messing with my judgment roams free in the universe to date. I mean, for me to have been that stupid, something must have had an upper hand.

“My name is Gabriel, what’s your name?” I shouted amid the loud music in the hall. “Ooh hi, my name is Nadia,” she shouted back. I requested her to step out of the hall for a short conversation to which she agreed. I should have sensed red flags because no lady of her caliber would agree to my advances. Come on, this is me we are talking about. The skinny and dusty kid from deep in the village. This was all too easy but in the back of my mind, today was my lucky day.

We definitely clicked and shared an intense vibe. She confirmed that she is in her third year of study pursuing a bachelor’s degree in computer science. My stars were aligned with hers mainly because we seemed to share a love for computers. I had the lady of my dreams in my grasp during my first month on campus and that’s all that mattered. Little did I know that the hunter was gradually becoming the hunted.

After the event, we both went back to my crib. It was a wild night. I mean that’s all that I can say for now! She had experience in this field of Kamasutra and I really struggled to keep up with her aggression and passion. I was constantly panting while she tossed and turned me around from left to right reaching levels I never presumed possible. Fast forward to almost two weeks later when I noted warts on the restricted zone of my body.

Ring warms are common in different parts of the body but when they are concentrated on one body part that is supposed to scare the hell out of you. This reminded me of our childhood when we got ringworms from sharing a barbers machine without proper disinfection. I had used a machine that had been shared one too many shared in this case. But this machine did not shave by cutting hair but by rubbing it (friction) till it fell off. Our common shaving machine buzzed while shaving but this one slapped (if you know you know). A few days later I was at the doctor’s office taking all these tests.

I was diagnosed with several viral infections. The ‘kingfisher’ was one among them (HIV). As the doctor prescribed all the medicine I needed to buy, I was trying to come to terms with the prognosis. The memories of the freshman night event were flooding my brain. I could see clearly how my presumed queen or rather prey for the night had been my predator all along. My golden goose had been my golden egg from the start. My greed had ruined my life and my first would probably become my last.

So I took out my phone and called her. “Hey mate, what’s up?” she answered on the other side. “I’m definitely not fine. I’m at the hospital and the doctor says that I have several viral infections. What did you do to me?” I retorted. “Yes, I expected this call. But don’t worry you are now a member of my scheme to infect more people. Let’s meet up at your place and I’ll tell you more about our scheme.” She answered calmly.

End of Part 1

Check out Part 2 here. You might also like a close shave, check it out here. Please share your thought in the comment section or on our social media (Twitter). Until next time, Adios.

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