I know I said I was done, but I just had to purge this story out of my system. This is a story about Casper the Texting Ghost. If you are a living, breathing human being, with access to the internet and just enough self-loathing to be dating in 2016, then you have had some experience with ghosting.
A texting ghost will not linger around your house and watch you shower like a regular ghost or haunt your new wife and levitate her bucket of bathing water like a Nollywood ghost. This particular ghost cannot get away from you any faster, he has no desire to linger, unless it is on deserted oasis far far away from anyone or anything related to you. This dude would rather die and reincarnate as a Birdman face tattoo than text you back. He’d probably rather take time out of his day everyday to go to City Hall and have Evans Kidero slap him for fifteen minutes than answer that DM.
I know all this because a long, long time ago in March 2016, I let a Casper come into my life to waste my time and bundles. It was one dark, ratchet March night, I was doing what I always do on a night out, drinking too many Jager bombs, doing my best Joseline Hernandez impressions, chasing all the boys from the yard with awkward conversation and twerking to my heart’s content. Mid-twerk, I got a 911 text from my friend, let’s call her Tara. Tara had gotten word from someone that they had seen her man walk into the club with somebody that wasn’t her and it looked very sospishos *insert Nigerian accent*. So she wanted me to go spy on her boyfreind because the idjot that gave her the tea had left the club. Before you judge me, understand that I am Luhya and it would be an affront to my ancestors for me to walk away from a scandal of this magnitude.
So I began my mission by first looking for the suspect’s friends, fuckboys never operate alone, they move in packs, spreading heartbreak, deceit and diseases. It wasn’t that hard all I had to do was rule out all the tables without sheesha bongs, and in no time, I had zeroed in on the suspect’s table. Let me give some advice to all you lightskin boys trying to cheat, if you’re going to step out on your girl:
- Be discreet, you are very easy to find, even in the dark.
- Don’t be the only lightskin in the crew, recruit two or three decoys to go out with you to throw us off your scent.
Needless to say I caught the suspect in the act, just as I was drafting my full report to my client, an agent of satan stopped me in my tracks. It was Casper, only I didn’t know it was him at the time, he was just a cute boy that stopped to talked to me and charmed me into giving him my number.
I went home high on the success of my mission and Casper’s instagram which I had been lurking on all the way home. Every girl knows instagram is where the Bae investigation must begin, in case you don’t know his full name yet, consult Truecaller and she will give you all the information you need. We texted back and forth, he even called that night and we agreed to talk the next day. This went on through the week then suddenly, crickets! Heh, I was confused, has this boy not texted me back or is there no network in Nairobi? Just to make sure, I restarted my phone, asked my sister to call me to see if my phone was working and sure enough it was. I came to the only logical conclusion that made sense in this situation, he was dead. So I texted him asking him if he was dead. He didn’t respond, so it is safe to assume that Casper Bae is no longer with us. His instagram says otherwise, but for the sake of my pride I will continue to think that he was hit by an Embassava just as he was about to reply to my text.
I was so upset, but after a few episodes of Catfish I realized that being ghosted wasn’t really that bad, there is a girl out here that thought she had been talking to Bow Wow for three months only to realize that she had been sending nudes to a 15 year old trans boy. The roles where reversed recently though and I had to ghost someone, after this experience, I honestly get it man. Sometimes you just don’t want to have to tell someone that you don’t want to keep talking to them, because it’s just an awkward ass conversation to have. Every time this ghostee would blow up my phone I’d be like “Damn! Can’t I ghost someone in peace!!!!!” When he texted me to tell me he was blocking me I was so relieved fam.
So I don’t have answers for ya’ll here, if I am ghosting you let me do it in peace, if you ghost me, hell fire shall consume you and you will never find happiness.