It is a perfect night. The full moon illuminates the sky brightly. Cool, refreshing breeze winds its way through the streets. The tall sycamore tree spreads its flourishing branches over two young lovers.

Tall handsome lad holds pretty girl’s hand. ‘Baby, I’ll give you my heart, liver and soul. Just say you love me.’

Girl hangs head shyly. ‘I don’t want your liver.’

‘Then what do you want? Just say the word girl.’ Lad waxes quixotic. Sinks to one knee: ‘Baby my desire is to please you.’ lifts girl’s hand to lips and kisses it tenderly. ‘Speak my princess, what do you desire?’

Girl winds her neck this way that way. In honeyed voice: ‘I want to see the content of your pocket.’

‘Heh?’ Boy springs to feet. Girl’s hand slips out of his. ‘Wetin dat one mean?’

Girl fiddles with his shirt buttons playfully. ‘You said I should ask anything I desire, sebi?’

Lad scratches head. ‘Yes baby.’

‘I want to know the type of owo living in your pocket. Is it green, blue or brown?’ Does your ego have many brothers, sisters, cousins, aunts and uncles? Or does it live alone?’

Lad gulps saliva nervously. He lifts her hand to his chest. ‘Can you hear my heart beat? Can you feel the pure, unadulterated love flowing from its depths? My princess what I offer you exceeds anything the eye can see or the hand can feel. Ego and owo will someday pass away but my love for you will never fail.’

Girl’s chin drops to chest. ‘I can’t feel your heart beat but I can feel the emptiness in my stomach; the dryness in my mouth; the harshness of the night breeze stealing through my thin aging clothes.’ Girl suddenly looks up eagerly. ‘Tell me, my love, does your kudi have nieces from America? Nephews from Britain? In-laws from Japan?’

Lad slaps thigh frustrated. ‘Babe, bone dis kudi talk! I no get, whether na naira whether na dollar I no get. Just give me your love, eh? Give me your love…biko, ejo, duallah.’
Girl folds arms across breast. Eyes him angrily. ‘So you no get abi? Then you called me all the way here to fill my ears with nonsense talk. I don’t blame you!’
‘Laila! I don’t suffer. You say na nonsense talk abi?’
‘Guy if you no get better to talk get out of my sight. Craze dey worry you. If you want my love let me tell you how you can get it. Produce brown, I will like you. Produce dollar I will love you. Produce pound sterling and I will fall in love with you. Chikena. No more no less.’
‘But baby I love you.’
‘Sharrap my friend. Have you not heard that faith without works is dead? Also love without works is dead. If you say you love me let your pocket produce evidence.’
Boy falls to knees. ‘Abeg.’
‘Abeg wetin? Waka!’
She brushes past him and disappears into the night.

I guess Julliet no fit die for Romeo in this edition

for where.

lol, funny you

;d ;d

Ouch!

I was expecting a fresherangle though

@Myne, lol, I'll bear that in mind for the next story.

Lol. Poor Romeo.

In his next life he'll be a rich bobo. Maybe Juliet go give am face then.

lol, tiz a funny edition of romeo and juliet o, ke! Juliet? She tink say money na love,

Oluchi007 your naughtiness is blinking on my radar

Na wa for the storyline o!

True adaptation to fit the modern West African setting!

lol, that's a though; now Val is coming up I should write another adaptation.

Nice writing.

Since when did the liver become a souvenir for love? It's a real fresher angle to the normal Romeo and Juliet story, just don't let Shakespear read this. Chei, I'm sorry for the guy.