Previously, On Chopbox Life (I’ve always wanted to say that…)
I looked up.
I was surprised to see one of Akua’s friends. They called her Emefa. Typical cute Ewe girl, you dey barb? Made-in-Ghana Ayigbe toffee… with body too for good measure. Such a dangerous combination.
…
And that’s how we ended the term before the Easter break… Obodai scooted over and whispered, “Bro, Emefa, wossop? ”
Full story here.
Emefa
The problem with girls like Emefa is that you are not the only one who noticed them.
OK, come to think of it, that’s not a ‘problem’ like she did something wrong, but it’s definitely something to be aware of. Emefa was the kind of girl who could put on makeup and pass for twenty-three. Not in a bad “growee” type of way oo — although you should remember we were about fifteen years old at the time.
How do I say this right? It was like her body completed puberty ahead of time, and she walked with the elegance of a lioness. She brought meaning to the term “catwalk”.
The young lady just turned heads; you couldn’t not notice her. Plus, you could tell she knew she was fine. She wasn’t waiting for you to tell her; she owned it.
Tirimudɛ, flattery, was not a tactic that would work on her.
As for being approached… many had tried.
All had failed.
Casualties consisted of seniors and juniors; westerners and easterners alike.
In some people’s books, she was proud; in my opinion, she was like one of those Ferrari’s with only two seats. You wouldn’t let just anybody ride shotgun in your Ferrari, would you?
This is the mountain Obodai wanted to climb.
Ambition? Maybe.
Determination? Possibly.
But how about wishful thinking? Or plain old insanity?
From where I stood, things were not looking good.
Oh… I forgot. She had a big brother in Guggisberg house. He wasn’t just her big brother, he was a BIG, scary-looking human being. Whatever they were feeding those kids at home, it was working.
But for all my objections, Obodai had done his homework. In fact, as far as planning and research go; ‘A’ for effort.
We will title Obodai’s game plan…
How to Get Noticed by a Girl out of Your League
Step 1 – Make like a bean and stalk:
Obodai spent the entire three weeks of the vacation stalking this girl online.
(I do not advise this. It is creepy.)
Instagram wouldn’t be launched until the later part of 2010, but Facebook and Twitter were hot.
Back then, smartphones were very new and a little rare. If you had one, you were rich. People still visited internet cafes to check their Facebook walls and Twitter timelines. Those who had computers and a good internet connection at home could be found sitting behind their PC’s for ten hours in a day… just tweeting.
What was wrong with us?
I don’t know if Emefa accepted Obodai’s Facebook friend request at that time, but following people on Twitter has always been a free-for-all.
Her tweets were his bread and butter. He saw all her pictures, he knew her friends, favourite food, favourite songs, everything there was to know from that app.
The hope was that “as a woman tweeteth, so is she”, but as it turns out, people can be really fake online.
Still, it was his most logical first step under the circumstances.
Step 2 – Penetrate the friend circle:
On a typical day, when Akua showed up, Obodai would vanish; he knew I would forget he existed anyway. But with the start of the third term, he seemed to stick around a lot more. Almost like a rash.
He was there while we were hanging out during snack breaks, SU meetings, entertainment, everywhere. And he wasn’t quiet too.
He cracked all these dry jokes, which for some weird reason Akua seemed to love, and he laughed at his own jokes like a drug dealer getting high on his own supply. The boy was testing me, chale, he was testing me.
Soon enough, what used to be “Kodzooooooooooo” from Akua was turning into “Hi Kodzooo (you see it’s shorter?), hey Obodaaaiii!” Like, bruh! You dey steal my shine!
But slowly and surely, he was inserting himself into Akua’s field of vision, and it was only a matter of time before the rest of her squad, and by extension, Emefa, noticed him.
So far so good.
Step 3 – Planned coincidences:
This is the hardest step. A lot of the classical romance stories of our childhood involved some random boy-meets-girl accident that led to an innocent establishment of interest.
100% fiction.
My friend, the love of your life will not run into you in a corridor and drop their books so you can help them pick it up in slow motion with romantic music playing in the background.
That formula works only in Hollywood.
Nevertheless, it is a sentiment that television and the media have primed us for, and Obodai took advantage of it in a way that shocked even me. That evil genius!
Seriously, this is some Michael Scofield, Raymond Reddington, Money Heist Professor next level orchestration.
You see, as soon as you enter high school in Ghana, you are given three books for English, which you will be tested on in your final exams, the WASSCE.
Some year-groups read books like “Ancestral Sacrifice”, and “The Gods Are Not To Blame”. We were reading “Grief Child” — I still hate that book — and “In the Chest of a Woman”.
Somehow Obodai managed to borrow Akua’s copy of “In the Chest of a Woman”. I think he said he wanted to “see something”.
Did he read it? For what? His plan was simple; instead of returning it to her directly, he decided to return it through Emefa. Just look at the tact. Too simple and innocent to fail.
To be honest, I was impressed.
Emefa was in Science 3, right next to our class, so the arguments for distance were sound. I didn’t follow him in there though. Science 3 was full of academic terrorists. While we argued about football in Science 4, the good people of Science 3 argued about orbital hybridization. Over the years, they would sweep countless awards to further assert their dominance as the sharks on the block. No way I was entering that class to provide moral support on a romantic quest.
Whatever happened in that class, I don’t know, but let me continue with what I know…
There were more steps that needed to be executed, but we had been in school for just two weeks. At entertainment that weekend, we got our first sense of how well, or not, Obodai was doing in his current pursuit.
It was Saturday evening, and entertainment was underway. It was the first entertainment for the term, and as usual, it was a Records Night.
While the people danced in the heat of the crowded assembly hall, those of us who wouldn’t (or couldn’t), walked around semi-aimlessly, chatting the night away. As we walked, Obodai explained the details of his brilliant master plan and how the pieces were falling together just the way he liked.
Right on cue, we ran into Akua and her squad. By now, they all knew me, so walking over to them was not a hustle. For Obodai however, he had to take his time. It didn’t help that he was wearing my over-sized trousers either. (His trousers had been seized during the inspection at the door when we returned from the vacation.)
I hollered at all of my girls, Akua, Nhyie, Ama, Nancy and Emefa. And yes, I called them “my girls”, you got a problem?
Obodai stood there shyly with his hands in his pocket. Plenty big “master plan” talk, but the boy was still a wimp. Sad, very- “Obodai, I have a question.”
My jaw dropped! It was Emefa! Emefa was talking to Obodai?! Unprovoked?! The boy’s plan was actually working?? He shot me a quick look that said: “I told you so”.
“Ask away”, Obodai replied.
“Ermmm, don’t be angry oo”, she began with a mischievous smile, “but your trousers… why?” And then everyone burst out laughing.
Fortunately, Obodai could take a joke. I was really proud of my boy. With that ice-breaking question, he had earned himself a spot on the chessboard. There was no guarantee he would capture the Queen, but at least, now he could play. See what I did there?
(No really, if you don’t get chess jokes I’ll have to come at you with an alikoto reference next time. Don’t make my work hard for me. )
