There was something about Yasmine that caused me to rack my brain to the core- to find out if I knew her from somewhere. I have been seeing her in class since the first semester in level 100 but I couldn’t figure out where exactly I knew her before coming to the university.
At this moment, I was lost in thoughts in my own planet and my own world. All that Mr. Torto (the Communicative Skills lecturer) was teaching about the topic of ambiguity was none of my business. Not even for all the water in the ocean could have brought my wandering mind to the class. I could only pray that he doesn’t call me unaware to answer a question in class that day.
I kept on asking myself if I had ever met Yasmine somewhere. Did we meet in Junior High School? Far from that! I was told by a friend that she schooled at Ridge Experimental Junior High in the Western Region. Could it be at a church programme? “Hell no!” that was the sharp answer I gave to myself. After all, what will “Hadjia” be doing in church? And certainly it wasn’t at the senior high school where I just completed. I would have remembered her with cheeky ease.
Yasmine seemed to resemble somebody- her facial expression, her well-shaped long nose, with her misty eyes surely resembled somebody. Even her sitting posture and the way she walked to lectures when late pointed to a familiar person. But who? I couldn’t quite remember where I knew her, but I couldn’t quickly and easily discard such thoughts from my already exhausted mind. Deep within my heart, I could sense there was more to it than just what I was thinking.
I was known by my friends to be very stingy with my compliments especially when it has to do with the opposite sex. I was simply good at hiding my emotions. I always said to myself “it’s good to swallow your compliments than to lavish them on an individual who may not notice such kind gesture”. For this particular afternoon, I couldn’t have said the same thing about myself. One could easily tell from the awe-struck expression on my face that I was seriously crushing on Yasmine. Admittedly, I came to terms with the fact that I am an awestruck admirer of Yasmine’s beauty. Yasmine always sat in front of me during that afternoon lecture.
From where I was sitting, I watched keenly as the class progressed. Yasmine’s blonde hair had an affable relationship with the sun’s rays that forced its way to the class through the window at the extreme end of the lecture theatre. The sun made her hair glowed brightly from the angle at which she was sitting. The shy- broad smile on the face of Yasmine revealed all her sparkling white teeth. She was everything beauty.
For the 3 semesters of knowing Yasmine, the longest sentence I ever said to her was “hi”. Surprising! I guess. Aflame with a burning desire that hot afternoon, I was convinced to finally approach Yasmine after Mr. Torto’s never ending lecture. After all, the worst thing that could happen to me was a “bounce”.
Surprisingly, just as I had made up my mind to approach Yasmine after the lecture, she craned her neck and winked at me with a smile of approval.
Has she been noticing me all this while? Could that be real? At this point it was a mixed-feeling. I was excited. At the same time, I knew it could not be me. It was too real to be true. For a moment, I thought I was mistaken till she winked at me for the third time. She had written something on her palm as if it was meant for me. I had no idea what it was all about but I sheepishly responded with an affectionate sharp long smile.
“Work on the assignment on the board and present your work next week. No excuses would be tolerated. Enjoy the weekend. Goodbye kids” these were the words of Mr. Torto and the class was brought to an end. I quickly moved my bulky body on the chair and made my way towards the direction of Yasmine. She was standing there with three other girls. “Chai, Today is really my day”, I said to myself. The excitement in the air was enhanced by a cool fresh air which was blowing from the nearby reserved forest where even the birds sang and flew about chasing one another. I took in a deep long breath and wished myself the best of luck as I was fast approaching Yasmine.
“Hey boy! Wake up. It’s time for the com skills class”, that was the annoying voice of Patrick Burna; my roommate.
Unfortunately, this cold and irritating voice of my roommate made me to realize that I was still in bed. That has been the worst distraction ever. Gritting my teeth in an angry manner, I just stared at him with a look of see-what-you’ve done! With a sign of anger in my voice and disappointment drawn all over my face, I told him in plain language; “please, don’t wake me up when I am dreaming!”
BY ELVIS EFFAH
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