My First. And its awkwardness.


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Guys, whoever said first are always awkward and messy was right. He was a genius. We just never listened to him. Personally, I ignored him. Below are some of my tales from my firsts in many things! 

First kiss:

My first kiss was disaster. It was one of those encounters that leave you with a little less faith in life and humanity in general. Maybe because of the hurry in which it was done or the inexperience of the involved parties. Me, I waited for 17 years of my life for that thing and even then, the gods did not reward my patience. The kiss was whack. It was horrible. It was sloppy and everything disappointing. The guy vacuumed the breath out of my soul. On top of that, he chewed my lips like he was eating sugarcane or chewing boiled corn. For the next one week everyone kept telling me sorry for the cold sores on my lips thinking I had a common cold. I just wished they’d know how much my lips had been massacred. Anyways, would you guys please tell me why people even look forward to their first kiss in this life? Because after that kiss, I calmed my African ass and lowered my expectations to the ground.

First date:

My parents are thorough spoilers through and through. Always have been. When they decide that good things aren’t going to happen to you, they will see to it that it comes to pass. They will summon help from every avenue possible, both heaven and earth. They’ll set things like curfews and make friends with every person in the estate so that when you fool around, word gets to them before you get home. That is the sole reason why I never went on a proper first date. Till date, every time I watch people in movies people going for coffee on the first date or taking a walk in a park, and walks in the park on their first dates, my throat constricts over a fat lump of envy. Sometimes I want to hold it against my parents but that there is the problem. I’ve always been a bad kid. At least in my mother’s eyes. By bad, I mean that I had my first boyfriend earlier in life than my mom would have liked. And just so we are clear, my mom wanted me to begin dating after I got to my fourth year of college. (HAHAHA, mama, what kind of a joke was that!)  I mean, come on, what was I supposed to be doing during my first 3 years in college? Just reading and praying? Maybe. But we all know how this heart works, it demands more duties than just praying and reading and pumping blood. Also, do you remember my first (and last) blind date? No? Have a read as well: I ruined a stranger.

First time singing in a choir:

The first time I tried to sing in a group was elementary school. I used the word tried because it is either you can sing or you can just make nonrhythmic sounds. The line between the two has never been blurry. The thing is, every child believes she can sing. Until those mean music teachers come along and similar-ize our sounds to those made by the village donkey. She’d say, ‘can I have the singers on the first line and the donkeys on the second line?’ But I also remember my best friend at that time who went by the name Jessica and she could sing until the whole school was mouth agape. But again, her mother was the local church choir trainer. And lead soloist. I want o lie that I never was jealous of her but I sure was. Only that I couldn’t do much. I mean, tell me, what can you do against people whose vocal cords have made a pact with the father of lights? Let us just say that by the time I got to high school and campus where choir was a serious affair and people were less judgmental, I couldn’t care less when the trainer said to me, ‘Melo is your name ironic? Is that voice you sing found in the keyboard? ‘However, I still get to live my singing dream in the bathroom every morning and boy am I good at it!

First time trying makeup on:

I first tried to makeup when I got to high school. By makeup, I mean that fruity lip gloss that shone brighter than the glory of the Lord Jesus Christ and stickier than cheap glue. There also was that cheap foundation that looks like you had smeared cocoa powder all over your face. I remember this particular day I was home for the holidays and it was Saturday. I went to church that day determined to not only impress my good lord, Christ Jesus but my crush as well. I ended up impressing Satan and his minions instead. That day the sun was hotter than the hottest volcano you know of and my foundation flowed down my face like Niagara Falls. It was like a re-run of that episode where Jesus sweated blood drops. But a faker version. lol

My first doctor’s examination room as an adult:

I’ve never enjoyed my visits to the hospital. Even when I was young, I had to be held by 3 adults for an injection to be administered. I never liked the smell of medicine. I’m the queen of Over the Counter prescriptions because I cannot stand an injection at all. I see doctors and nurses struggle to stifle their laughter because of the way I wail loudly at any time I have to be injected with medicine of any kind. I cry the way a man faced with inevitable death cries. I cry from the stomach. I digress.

I was telling us about my first examination with a doctor as an adult. I had to undress at some point and sitting on that examination table, legs hanging in the air as I waited for the doctor to arrive in the room, I can’t say I didn’t think of dressing up and running out of the room at some point. Come on, it is never too late to run out of an examination room, is it now? See, dome of these things were easier when I was a child. Instead, I sat on that dressing table wondering if that is how vulnerable I was going to feel standing before the throne of God on judgement day. I stared around the room that also reeked of medicine and lacked in character and kept pressing my knuckles as I sang, ‘in a little while we’re going home’. Anyways the doctor finally arrived and examined me. And injected me with medicine And I cried as the stupid needle pricked my skin. I clenched and un-clenched my innocent buttocks to relieve myself of the stupid pain. The pain was in no hurry to leave. It was Friday in pain-land. And the doctor said, ‘Hush. Child, hush. This is for your good.’ And I hated her for it. When the exam finally ended, I was ready to walk home and tell my local pharmacist how much I appreciate him.

First day of college:

My first day at college was not so eventful. Except for the fact that I wore high heels, in the hope of starting my college life on a high note. But I ended up standing in a queue since 8 a.m to 4 p.m and by the time I was finally getting settled in my room of 8 people, all my muscles including those in my small behind were aching so badly. I also remember wanting to graduate with first class honors as well as a beautiful, beautiful husband at the end of 4 years during that first semester. Both dreams died a sudden death along the way. The one for first class honors died in my second semester. The dream of a good husband at the end of college, died a slow torturous death as the semesters drew by. Oh, I also just remembered that when I got to college, I was so excited to see all sorts of men there. It was like a sea with all types of fish. Fish with big broad shoulders. Fish with small lean shoulders. Fish with hairy legs. Fish with skinny legs. And still, after the 4 years, I didn’t catch any of those fish. Or say, none of those fish caught me.

First blog post I ever published:

Number 1, my blog site back then was crap. My typos were as loud as the creaks from an old chair and my sentence construction looked worse than a badly stitched dress. I used to write as if there is no pause in between my words. I was an amateur through and through. Have a read: A pill of gratefulness.

First trip abroad:  

This one, I narrated to us earlier this year: A villager and her first flight. You guys, I’m not sure I ever want to use a plane’s washroom ever again. If the end of the world comes while I’m inside there, how will even Jesus retrieve me from inside that small space? And not just so, I just don’t want to take the chance of meeting my maker with my pants somewhere around my knees. And btw, the next time I fly, let me not see any of you judging me when I walk out with those mini blankets and pillows and earphones they give us on the plane. I paid for those things, goddammit! Where I come from, the chicken not over until the last of bones is completely chewed.

First boyfriend:

Oh, that one. He did not deserve me.

First time in high heels:

I did not wear any heels until I was in high school. All through the other years, my mother had always insisted that God values silence whenever we are walking. And that those shoes make women look proud and conceited. So, the first day I wore them, I tried walking to the bus stop on a murram road approximately 100 meters, but tell you what? Neither me nor my tall shoes made it that far. We fell on our face, rather I fell on sweet face. And lo, what a dusty day it was. I had to return to the house and change the whole damn attire.

First time dating a non-believer:

This is an entire blog post of its own. Let us hope we will do this in the near future.

 


Have you checked out my new column on the blog where I will be posting blogging resources and tips for those interested in being writers? Click: BLOGGING RESOURCES FOR WRITERS and go through it when you find time! Remember to love hard but laugh even harder this week!


 

 

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1 Comment

  1. July 21, 2018 / 8:52 am

    There is a first you missed out, nevertheless, was a good read. andrewismme.wordpress.com

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