APONBEPORE...an encounter

Episode One - By Acetyl

APONBEPORE is a yoruba pynegyry which literally means a lady whose complexion looks like the colour of palm oil; mostly used for a beauty.
Left to me and some other active guys, our sense of visions are used in stylishly assessing the beauty of anything that passes satisfying our limbic system of emotions.

It was on a very busy Monday morning when the school just began a new academic session. As freshers, we were seated calmly at the 200- seater geology lecture theatre (GLT) awaiting the arrival of Mrs Okorie - an old, persuasive, English lecturer in her late 50s who always used half of the time to call attendance and the other half to make us read from the GNS textbook.

After few minutes before the arrival of the lecturer, a young lady in her 20s walked in through the main door which was just at my 10 o' clock. What a beauty to be amazed, it left me looking skeptical wondering if such being had ever been created.
She represented a perfect icon of beauty right down in my cardiac space, her skin - yellow and spotless, her sclera - white and clear shiningly supported by nice looking pair of recommended spectacles, her non doggy nor catty walking style, her invasive facial expression like someone who just won a lotto...etc

I said to my self, this must be an analog of what I had longed for - a perfect woman to be mother to my children when I grow up, but I just couldn't conclude from the outer look.
She sat just two rows in front of me as I kept observing her, my eyes wouldn't just let go of such worrying sight. I already forgot we were in a lecture hall as I almost lost concentration in Mrs Okorie's textbook reading episode.

As a smart Lagos boy without dulling moments, I moved closer to her just after the class as a means of introduction with jokes that were actually fabricated and fictional just to make her smile. Her smile no be here oooo in the words of my Ajegunle pals, she laid it on ribosome in the words of a senior colleague.
After the normal intro, I asked if we can be friends without wasting time which she negated with a "capital NO". I asked jokingly if she actually meant Nitric Oxide ( NO) , a gas in chemistry which she responded with a smile and expressions like "you are not serious". Some ladies like it when you are funny.

Her nice tone could tell the beauty of her voice box; there was no hoarseness which I could simply describe it as been synonymous to the voice of angels singing song of praises in the heaven.
I left telling her it would please me if she could think over it and "I will be waiting for reply" in wizkid's voice. After getting to my base, I tried re-strategesing on the next line of action as my first line of defence has been bashed.
When everything tended not to matter but the thoughts of aponbepore, hunger set in - my inner worms were ready for breakfast. I didn't want to add hunger to my worry as I dished 2 packs of Indomie noodles gotten from the hostel porter on fire to pump more fuel in the form of glucose to my thinking centre.

After food, several thoughts ran across my mind - some lessons on how to woe from old folks, some theorized ones read from the paper, some watched from home videos. I was planning to present myself as Romeo to my newly found Juliet.
I recalled an old friend, Bosun - a womaniser with degree which was why I disliked him back then in secondary school when he used his so called codes to get all the beautiful girls in class. He was always surrounded with girls with the use of his sweet coated mouth.

Bosun once told me a trick which is to try being nice at first and getting her all attentions I could, needed or not, necessary or not. After which you do follow - up even if the first reply is No. "Ladies always say that to feel defensive and selfless in order to know the level of seriousness of the guy making the call", said Bosun.
I made up my mind to never give up just like the battle of no return till I make aponbepore dance to my tune, heed to me never relenting call, become the love I ever cherished....

.....to be continued.