Did I ever tell you guys how my friend left Buea to Douala when we were at the university to see a man who lied about being there? As a matter of fact, he wasn’t even in the country.

For the sake of this story, let’s assume that I was there even though I actually was.
#Thread

The year was 2013. My babe told me her Facebook boyfriend was in the country and she’ll have to go see him in Douala. I already had plans to go there for something else(I swear I had real business there) plus it won’t hurt to hang around and eat soya by a bush faller.

Worst decision of my life was leaving the house to rent by myself around the university. This was the beningin of my uselessness

My girl comes over, we do last minute Daniella hair attachment at the hairdresser. She sleeps over at my place and we are excited for the next day

Same time this guys is sending an avalanche of texts talmbout “Douala is so hot”, “I cant wait to see you”, yen yen yen

My girl is on cloud 9.

Morning comes. We wear our best out fits In hindsight, I don’t know why I was so invested in this wahala, I literally skipped class that day for..hmm let me finish the story.
We take a car and travel the risky Tiko-Dla road without telling any family we were leaving town

I honestly had another business to do so I propose that we finish with my thing then go meet her guy together.
I do my stuff sharp-sharp. She calls him, he says we should hollup hollup he is coming to pick us and we go to town together. We were in Bonabéri.

15 minutes...30 minutes...1 hour goes by, we are still waiting.

P.S : he is using the thing people in America use to mask their numbers such that an MTN number appears instead.

He calls and says traffic oh! Traffic. He is stuck in traffic and will be late.

Hmm

After about 1hour 30, he says you know what? Take a bike, come over to town instead and we will meet there. Makes sense.

Daughters of Zion jump okada, cross the bridge and reach rond point. All this time, he is the only one who can call because obviously our calls won’t connect.

We get to rond point, stand by the road like homeless people waiting for the phone to ring. He finally calls and says oouch he eventually went to wait for us in his father’s office and who has held him there but no problem we should go to Boulangerie Meno and get comfortable

I’m laughing so hard as I type this because, how naive?

Anyways, my bush faller ins is coming so...bring me some 3 scoops of ice cream.I forget what that stupid girl ordered.

Chilling, waiting for him to come and pay meantime she’s constantly dabbing powder on her cheeks

It’s almost 3pm and I’m getting tired. He calls again apologizes and says wehh if we prefer the food at Glacé moderne we should move there and he’ll round off with his dad and definitely join us.

We pay for our orders and I’m already not finding it funny.

Hmmm okay

We get to glacé moderne Akwa, was my first time and I was impressed. First time seeing a Lebanese waiting tables and I was just happy.

We order spaghetti bolognaise and some wine IT WAS NOT CHEAP!

Fortunately, fortunately we had money of our own.

We wait and wait

This boy stops calling...we write on Facebook, no reply. Just radio silence.

Slowly it began to dawn on us.

I’m seriously frowning and my girl starts crying

Anyways, that’s how I spent 45 minutes on the bus back to molyko wiping my friends tears as she was wailed like a new widow.

We go home and never talk about it.

She forgives him. I don’t. In my head, he still owes me.

Fam, it took me 3 years to discover he never was in 237.