MY LITTLE BLACK DRESS

Welcome to our Saturday story series. The romantics won. I would be sharing a love story today. If you are hoping for a Harlequin or M & B Grade story, kindly check next door. We only write Christian romance.

Today’s story is titled “My Little Black Dress”. It is set in the University of Ibadan in the year 1998, a notable football year that witnessed both Burkina Faso ’98 that held in February and France ’98 which held in July.

Some people who know me would be slack-jawed. They have never put Jumoke and football in the same sentence before. My dad was a football lover. My childhood was spent loving and watching football. My husband is indifferent to football. I no longer know who is playing what. This is the power of influence.

For those who are not used to historical romance, please note that in 1998, mobile phones and social media did not exist, neither did we have access to the internet. There was Maryland cookies though and the hero of today’s story (let’s call him Hero) loved the orange one, caramel flavour. If these sound strange, please note that it means I am not your mate.

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This story is dedicated to my pastor of 18years. You see, he does not believe that people younger than 23years of age can truly understand what love means. However, we, the hopeless romantics, are convinced that anyone can find love in the most unusual places. Your test for today is this- tell me, after reading the story, if it was love or stupidity.

Anyway, in 1998, our heroine was 18 and our hero 19. We shall be calling them Hero and Heroine so that all ye contacts will not come and disturb me for their identity. That year, they crossed over to medical school. Hero was from a rich background and so he got an allowance of N6,000 per month. Heroine wasn’t quite middle class. She got an allowance of N1,000 per week. Oya, do the maths.

When school was resuming in January, medical students got a lot of money from home for dissecting sets, textbooks and lab coats, in addition to their school fees and allowances. Hero somehow convinced his mum to give him his monthly allowance for the entire semester at once and so he was balling.

Heroine got the fees, money for the dissecting set and lab coat. Her mum, who had just collected her gratuity, only gave her N3,000 to cover one textbook each for anatomy, physiology and biochemistry. She had to interview the seniors to know which textbooks to buy. She planned to study with friends. Alas, she was always with Hero and this meant she couldn’t study with others if they were not studying together.

Don’t ask me how they met, that is another story. Know this – they were in the same class. They were on the same dissecting table, Table 13. They had the same friends and so they hung out together after class. Naturally, things would begin to get “technical” the more they spent time alone together. They were an item in the eyes of their classmates. In their own eyes, they were friends that were too close for comfort. Let’s leave it at that, ok?

Hero’s money galvanized his business thinking. His brother also got a stash that time. Thus, they started brainstormed on what business they could do. That year marked the official beginning of viewing centres for the multiple football tournaments. Hero and his bro pooled their funds and decided to start one at Faculty of Arts Large Lecture Theatre. Of course, as with any other start-up, that meant Hero was broke when the business started.

He never felt broke. Family finance kicked in. They used couple money dynamics. He paid his fees and did nothing else. Since Hero and Heroine were on the same dissection table, they used one dissection set- Heroine’s. She read the instructions, while he did the cadaver cutting. She wiped his face during dissection, since he used to sweat on his nose. Their study was compatible with romance. Everyone else on their table enjoyed the soap opera. It was very entertaining.

They shared her single textbooks, which stayed in his room, along with the dissection set. She brought weekly food supplies to share; cooked meals shared over the weekend and her allowance for the week split between them. They got toiletries via a joint list prepared and sent to her dad for purchases. St. Ives body lotion for combination skin. #CoupleGoals

Are you looking for the little black dress? It is the conclusion of the story. After the first month of setting up the viewing centre, it became quite glaring that it was not going to make the anticipated profit. The brothers started working just to get their initial capital back and even that looked bleak. Heroine had to provide comfort and ensure a lack of depression from the loss. That was easy though, the romance was very distracting.

Things changed for the better after 3 months. I think Hero actually confessed to his mum what they had done with their money and how things turned out. Like a true mother would, she sent him an allowance on the first day of the following month. The inflow of N6,000 was worth celebrating, for both Hero and Heroine who hadn’t seen more than N500 at once in a long time. Joy and peace flowed freely.

“Let me get you something from the shop in the garage next door.”

“What?”

“Caramel Maryland Cookies, your favourite.”

“At least this time, I can get you something from the shop next to it.”

“That is a boutique.”

“I know.”

“I am not sure they have anything I want.”

“Let’s check.”

Twenty minutes later he asks “Don’t you like this one?”

“This one?” It was a little black spaghetti strapped dress. “Isn’t it too exposing?”

“I think it would look good on you.”

“The price tag says N2,800.”

“So?”

“I don’t want.”

“Do you like it? Try it on.”

It didn’t take much convincing. It was a lovely dress. However, Heroine had been in a scrimping and saving mode for 3months. There was no how she would let him spend half the inflow on a dress she couldn’t wear to most places. She wore it and pirouetted for him to see. It did look good. She took it off, hung it back on the rack and dragged him back to his room.

When she was leaving that night, Hero handed her a small black polythene bag. Your guess is as good as mine. It contained the little black dress. With his eyes glistening with a sheen of tears, he said to her “I really appreciate everything you have done for me in the last few months. You are worth so much more to me than the cost of this dress. All the money I got cannot even begin to show how much I appreciate you. The dress looks great on you. I want you to have it.”
She couldn’t refuse it after having to listen to those words. Well, she only wore the dress twice. The first time was to a party covered by an oversized t-shirt. The second time was to take a picture. 1998 was 23years ago. Hero still has a copy of the picture although Heroine managed to somehow lose hers.

With this, we have come to the end of our tale of love and money. The question is, was this an example of youthful exuberance or was it plain stupidity? If the latter, on whose part, Hero and Heroine? Oya, talk to me.