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A failed attempt at finding love

The Circular met Muphasa Malumba, a Zimbabwean migrant to Ireland. He works as a Human Resource Manager at a top tech company in Ireland. He shares with us one of his attempts at finding love. Enjoy.

And on that day, a lady came to my house. She came to see someone else in my house for some business discussion. Oh my gosh! This girl looked so amazing. The moment I spotted her, my eyeballs popped like a bottle of champagne, my heart skipped like a sports girl and my life paused like DVD. My life paused because for a moment to avail me room to examine, analyse and appreciate this beauty that was before me. As I began to bask in the euphoria of what I was experiencing, my consciousness or cognisance was back into the room, then I realised I was taking too long than was reasonable in the circumstance, so I had to leave.

Photo Credit: Wikimedia Commons

I walked out of that kitchen soaked in mixed feelings. I was grateful and overjoyed that I had the opportunity of seeing such representation of perfection in my lifetime and I at the same time had this somewhat unpleasant (but rather ungrateful) feeling of disappointment stemming from the fact that I knew I’ll never get the chance to talk to her.

Oh my gosh! She was so beautiful. Her dreads were so wonderful, they “medleyed” Killing Me Softly in my head. Her gazed was so heavenly, I felt like a saint for a bit. Her smile was so bright; she made the light bulbs feel worthless. Her shape was so perfect; I thought her name was coke. I thought I had found love at last.

Then later in the day, as I walked around the living room searching for what was not lost, I saw her sitting on the chair by the door at the entrance where my Aunt receives visitors.  Filled with so much joy, enthusiasm and stupid confidence, I walked up to her. So, I went, “hey”. She replied “hello”. Then I asked, “is your hair dreads?” (Like obviously! Her hair was dreads. Or what did I expect it to be? “Bread”?). But to my utmost surprise, she replied “No”. At that point, I became utterly lost for words. My brain went blank and my mind went empty. The only thing that was on my mind at that point was “what can I say next?” But before I was able to invent something, her host was around and ready to see her. 

Photo Credit: Wikimedia Commons

I went the whole evening thinking, “What should I have said?” “What should I not have said?” “Should I have even talked to her in the first place?” “What should I say in case a similar opportunity comes next time?” Those thoughts overran my mind so much that it took a good nap to remedy the situation.

Then the next morning as I prepared to leave the house, I saw her again but this time, alone at the dining table. At that point, I knew this was going to be my only chance to place a good impressionistic stamp on her heart forever. The chicken in me tried hesitating for a millisecond but he graciously got no audience because he had struck up a conversation with her before I even was aware of it. I got her talking and as she was making her point, my wandering eyes strolled down her face to her chest to her arm then to her finger. You guessed right. I saw a ring. I was like “What?” I gave that ring a very powerful look. Though I was a little bit slack in my speed, I was meticulous enough to examine the kind that was on her finger. At that point, I got so pissed, I felt like shutting her up. “So, this girl is married?” I soliloquised and to myself. When will I find love?

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