I remember; he would buy me snacks and lollipops. Remember those snacks sold for 50 cents at the school gates? He would wait for me at the gate after school and I would blush every time I saw him. I could never get used to it; precious moments!
He carried my backpack and would always shy away from holding my hands. He had the most beautiful smile. He would come over at my place at night; whistle our secret code to signal his arrival. We didn’t have phones then, no social networks to quickly send a message. I would wait for my family to leave the kitchen before sneaking out to see him. He would wait, no matter how long, just to see my face again. We would then update each other on the things that happened that day and maybe seal the conversation with a hug.
Fisokuhle Gamede, he was a grade ahead of me and a real chick magnet. He was tall, fair in complexion almost like me, with a chubby face. He was popular at school, jack of all trades. You would find him at soccer, traditional dancing, indigenous games and at the school choir. He was good at all of them! Academics were not his strong point though, that was my department, and I sang too.
I remember school choir practice; he was one of the conductors. When he first saw I that I had joined the choir he became shy about singing. What a beautiful voice he had! Our choir master noticed the vibe between Fiso and the ladies in the group; not knowing the details, she shouted at him for chasing after her girls. My Fiso! Eventually, we would practice outside of school and our meetings included both laughter and song.
I remember every time I would be sent to the shops he would accompany me. I made sure I went to the shop near his home so that he could join me. He would carry all the heavy things and give them to me just before we got to the gate at home.
I remember our first kiss! It is something to be exclaimed, I tell you; now that I’m older I realize how ridiculous it was but back then it sent a rush of goosebumps all over my body. Neither of us knew how to kiss; that was our practice and we had agreed to be perfect with each other for each other. We had planned our fairytale ending and were looking forward to living happily ever after – together.
His friends would make silly remarks every time they saw me and I liked that. Something about being known as somebody’s “person” made me feel special. Even though I didn’t understand what that entailed, I liked it. At that age you can hardly call it a relationship, however, that’s the purest form of love. The smiles were real, the laughter was pure and every word, truth. The thrill of teenage love can never be compared to anything; flawless bliss!
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