I’ll Make Love To You

I’ll Make Love To You

I assure you, it’s not what you think it is. This is not a story of love and sex. It’s a tale of how I learned the important lesson of not dabbling in things I don’t understand.

I was thirteen years old, had just discovered what R & B was, and Boys II Men were the reigning R & B group in the world. I loved those boys, true. I knew all their songs and could sing them by heart. My family is a singing family, so I was no stranger to songs. But the songs I knew weren’t R & B; they were mostly gospel and songs by James Brown, Don Williams, Jim Reeves, Kenny Rogers, Dolly Parton, Ebenezer Obey, King Sunny Ade, Blacky, Ras Kimono, ABBA, etc.

You can tell I’m an eighties baby, abi? So, imagine my delight when I discovered this new genre of Backstreet Boys, Boys II Men, Tupac etc. But they didn’t warn me. They didn’t tell me that their music wasn’t as clean as the ones I was used to. That their lyrics contained some serious PG18 stuff.

That’s how one day, in my glorious innocence, I began to sing, “I’ll make love to you, like you want me to and I’ll hold you tight, baby all through the night, I’ll make love to you…”

Brethren and sisthren, I never esperredit.

One moment, I was channelling my inner Mariah Carey, and the next, a slap that came with the speed of light, handily delivered by my loving mother, landed smack in the middle of my back. Before I could recover, I got two more slaps.

I don’t know if you’ve been slapped on your back before. The pain…it’s not like pain pain. It’s like fire and ata rodo pepper dancing salsa on your back. You know that feeling you get when you expose rashes, premium craw-craw, to sunlight. That kind of slap will cause saliva to pool in your mouth and make your torso, as your hand tries to reach behind, in a bid to soothe the fire.

“Ayaiiiiiiiiooooooooo!” I screamed in agony. “What is my crime, O Exalted Mother of Mine? I asked.

“Will you shut up?!” Mumsie shouted. “Shut up that smelling mouth. You want to make love to who? Which baby are you holding through the night? Kokomma, is this what I taught you? You want to spoil and get pregnant and bring it to this house? It will never happen! Do you hear me? Never!”

I cried and cried and cried. What pained me is that I didn’t even know what the words meant. I was just singing because it was cool to sing R & B. To today, I still don’t know what lovemaking is.πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚

I laugh when I remember that day.
I also laugh when I remember how I went around Enugu, greeting people by saying, “Otu ocha,” because one wicked girl told me it’s ‘general greeting.’ Kai!

I’ve suvvad in this life, sha. I’ve really, really suvvad.

This Post Has 12 Comments

  1. Well done ma…πŸ‘πŸ‘πŸ‘πŸ‘πŸ‘

  2. Oh oh my G….the slap πŸ‘‹ sha…and the β€œotuocha” greeting…so so funny…thanks!

  3. I thrilled and yelled “oooh! Eketi o ni pa mi o!” From my bedside perch. I’m still grinning…. it’s turned to a ful chuckle now. You are hilarious and, that is most certainly a memorable milestone in your life that i enjoyed glimpsing into.

    1. Literal translation – white vagina.

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