Based on a true story. Strong language included. 18+

My name is Pablo. I’m a creep on social media; the guy that always leaves thirsty comments on your girl’s posts on Instagram, and DMs her on Snapchat… Yeah that’s me. Pablo is not my real name of course. But wait, you thought I was gonna give all my personal information and shit?

I grew up in Bujumbura, in a quiet neighborhood known as “GihParadise”, home to many military officers, members of the government, etc, so you couldn’t really fuck it up.

I never really had the opportunity to go play outside like most kids, because when I wasn’t napping, I was getting a serious ass whooping from my mom. My dad was on some other type of bullshit. He never wanted me to go play outside. We had a huge garden, so he would tell me to invite my friends. When I went out, he would send the houseboy to go look for me. All I wanted was some freedom to cross the street in peace man! Sleepovers were unheard of. We were on some dictatorship typa shit…

I attended a “prestigious” school in Bujumbura. I was considered a “Babylon”. Well I didn’t just attend one school, but my first school was, er, let’s call it “Ecole Hollandaise Francoise” *wink* *wink*. I had some of the best time of my life over there. From skipping classes to taking naps in the infirmary (they were so kind and would bring me water too)… I once made a teacher cry and give up her job because I kept laughing at her hilarious french accent. That “Korotirida w’imwaro” typa accent teaching… How swaay!

We had fun sending viruses to the computers in the ICT lab and watching the teacher trippin; after which we were banned from going to his class… but that partly because we also made fun of his kid. Ni99a took everything too seriously, SMH!
But my best memory was when we brought snakes from the Musée Vivant to throw them in the library & in the Principal’s office at the end of year. That was some next level typa shit, haha!
When we had a school show, I would sell tombola tickets to my parents’ friends but never hand in the cash. Work for free? Jamais! But I was a good salesman! Well, if we consider pissing people into buying the tickets as good salesmanship…

You can tell it was lit!

To no surprise, after playing myself for a couple years I ended up getting kicked out of school. That came as a reality check, but it was too late. So I had to figure out a plan B.

[To be continued]

By “The Black Unicorn”, who currently lives and studies in Brussels, Belgium.