RSS Feed (xml)

Powered By

Skin Design:
Free Blogger Skins

Powered by Blogger

Tuesday, April 1, 2008

The days of Yellow are no more


I loved my yellow. We were very fond of each other. I called her my laptop. I vividly recall as I prayed on my knees, from the bottom of my heart that Yeshua connects me. And how in the deep of that night, I had received a call from my missionary uncle in Miami to realize that God had answered my cry. Apparently, he had sent me some dollars, wanted me to go Samsung so we could keep in constant touch. At least I would also join the boys as a bunch of 'on-air campusers.'

So with the warm dollars still burning in my pockets, I went to tawo, yielded to my love for chips and ended up buying Yellow instead of Samsung. What a cool MTN Sendo ka-phone! Yet it cost me a mere 140,000. I'm telling you the day I walked into the lecture room I anxiously thundered: "I got it!"

"What?" the guys shouted

"A Yellow cutie phone," I shouted back as I proudly displayed my gadget before the blockheads laughed like crazy. One malnourished-looking guy went as far to say the thing was a toy for kids but I knew it was envy speaking. Another babe added that its colour was inflammatory. I almost hit her but stopped myself.

Well, my dear Yellow went on to become the mother I don't have here with me scaring the girls away from hooking up with me. What dame would identify with a guy holding a yellow phone? But anyway, I fancied the prettier Yellow more than these gold-diggers. But now that it's gone, daughters of Eve are breaking into my already broken world. When I had yellow, we were busy playing games that helped keep the hookers off. Now I just sit and gaze. And behold, the girls come in a bunch to distract!

I reminisced the good times I had with Yellow; she resembled a small fish. The day I got her, we hugged and slept in the same bed as she lulled me to sleep with infectious ring tones. Banjo was my favourite.

There is no doubt that wherever Yellow is, she recalls the trouble I went through to protect her.
Once I was chatting with Uncle D in Miami when someone teased: "Hey, chatting on your filth?"
He had the audacity to add that I was a campus villager. Definitely infuriated, I got involved in a skirmish and almost forced the University Disciplinary Committee.

Now if it's not the same Lumumbist that has kidnapped my Yellow, then who could be that foul human being with grisly diabolically long hands that only snatch other people's phones? I can't believe it's almost two weeks yet my 'army' mates haven't helped yet. Oh God how I want to slash somebody's neck. I swear I'll if my Yellow is not returned!

--The Daily Monitor Saturday, June 26, 2004, page 12