Monday 12 July 2010

Vuvuzela Love: The Zela blowing unpleasant romantic melodies

He was dazed and unconscious of his surroundings as he reflected about the events that made Abigail damped him for the horns in the South. He was haunted because it was due to his own foolishness. He was in so much pain and the pains pierced through his heart like a sharp needle. Abigail went with the crowd to watch her hero play but she never returned. When he asked, Jessica told him the awful news. Abigail eloped with a horn blower at the camp. He went mad because he borrowed from the bank to make her trip possible. He was in debt and his creditors were pursuing him. He knew the trip was a bad idea but she insisted on going. All he wanted to do was to please a loved one.

Peter treasured Abigail so much. She meant the world to him. He pampered her and made her a princess in his illusive world. His world revolved around her and he always wanted her to be happy. For some unknown reasons, his friends frowned on his tenderness to her. ‘Treat a lady with kid’s gloves and she would take you for a nincompoop. Ladies prefer guys who would cracked their emotions and send them to the rafters. They are so unpredictable’. His friends said to him. He knew his Abi. She was so fluffy, she was an angel. In fact she was a gift from the firmament. He always said in response to their arguments. He had dated Abigail for a little over four years and everything was rosy. Then the Vuvuzela horns started blowing their alluring notes from the soccer camps and his world turned inside out.

She came to his place looking so moody one morning. In order to cheer her up, he asked her to make a wish. She should wish anything and it shall be done. Abigail’s wish knocked him off his chair. She wanted a visa and a first class ticket to the South to watch her hero adorn the Star’s colours. ‘Wish something else’. He pleaded with her on bended kneels. There was not enough money at home. His little savings was towards their impending marriage. He tried to explain things to her but it was in vain.

No coaxing could change her stance. ‘What is a man’s worth if he cannot provide comfort for his angel? It was either a first class ticket or no wish’. She said. He could not believe his ears. That was not his Abi. The Abi he knew would not say such a thing to him. She must be under a bad influence. He reflected. Then Abigail started talking about Jessica her new friend. She met Jessica when she started working at the Head Office of her company. ‘She was going to South with her guy’. She said in unsympathetic words. ‘She had hard cash from her guy for a shopping extravaganza in the glossy shops in the South. Jessica and her man had already booked their flight and would storm the South with a bang’ she said. Since Jessica told her about her trip, she desired to go too but was unable to tell Peter. He dug his own grave by asking her to make a wish.

He saw her off at airport and watched the plane vanished into the cotton clouds. He was excited though he was in debt; if that would make his loved one happy. The warm relation between him and his loved one took a different turn as Abigail got accustomed to vuvuzela lyrics in the South. She never called after she left and he tarried for her call. He was so restless. Reports pouring in from the soccer camps were not pleasant. Some fans died in a coach accident. Could Abigail be one of the unfortunate souls? Some women were rape by some soccer thugs, was she a rape victim? They were planning their wedding in some few months and he would not forgive any hooligan who tasted of her sweetness before him. Would he still wed her if she was rape? He had sleepless nights.

Two weeks later her call came but she was so cold on the phone. He heard loud honking sounds at backdrop as she spoke. It was from the powerful horn. Yes it was the vuvuzela; the little horn with a man’s presence. She might be at the stadium or somewhere near. She read out a phone number and asked him to call her later. She was busy and cannot chat with him. There was a harsh change in the romantic chord of his loved one. Her voice in time past sang excellent musical notes that lifted him into higher realms. His name on her lips was like power ballads sang by Grammy Award winning soul singer. The voice of his dear was now singing flawed notes, which were so unpleasant. He never gave up on the silky one as nothing could replace her in his life.

He became more concerned as the tournament progressed. Any time he called his voice was drowned by the Vuvuzelas. He said his niceties anyway ‘Honey I loved you; honey I missed you’. Her responds said it all. She was not interested in pleasantries from a pauper. Something was not right. It was unusual for Abigail to stay days without hearing his voice. What went wrong? He asked himself. Then he had a call from Jessica asking for his help. Her man was nicked at the airport at Johannesburg. He was a wanted fugitive. In fact, he had been on the radar of Interpol for years. It was then Jessica broke the horrible news to him. Abigail was gone from the camp. She went to a far away land with an unknown wealthy Vuvuzela man. It was funny and ironic. Jessica returned to Accra without her man and Peter lost the woman of his dream. However, the good news was the pair fell in love.

Well Abigail lent a new song in the South. It was a song about a new dawn and a new era. It was an era for wealth and power. Which was symbolised in the powerful shrills of the Vuvuzelas. She sang that song to Peter on the phone, but he failed to decipher the meaning because it was less musical. His cherished one’s voice was so unpleasant to him just like the Vuvuzelas to people from other cultures. Jessica on the other hand learnt a new song. Her song was about ‘not all gold that glitters’ so be content with what you have.

Francis Kwaku Egu, UK

kwakuhull@yahoo.com

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