There was once a young man who fell in love with a beautiful young lady. The lady was a single mother blessed with one child, a lovely baby girl. To this young man, the lady was the definition of beauty. If beauty were an examination, he was convinced she would score 100 percent without even opening a book. He had already pictured their future together, although the lady herself had not yet agreed to appear in the first chapter of his imagination.
The young man decided to pursue her using the most advanced technology available to him: Facebook, WhatsApp, and other messaging applications. He was determined to win her heart, one greeting at a time. Every morning, his fingers went to work before the rest of his body had fully awakened.
“Hi, gal!”
“Hae, babe girl!”
“Hello, hello!”
“Hello, cute lady!”
“Hello, sweet one!”
“Niaje, mrembo?”
Sometimes, he even combined several greetings into one message, hoping that if one failed to open the door, the others would at least squeeze through the window.
Unfortunately, the lady remained silent. His greetings entered her inbox like visitors arriving at a wedding where nobody had invited them. They came in different styles, colours, and languages, but none received the honour of a reply.
He sent messages in the morning. He sent others in the afternoon. When evening arrived, he would try again, as though the lady might have spent the entire day waiting for darkness before checking her phone. Nothing! Even his telephone calls went unanswered. His phone would ring, ring, and ring until he began to feel that the ringtone itself was embarrassing him.
Sometimes, he imagined the lady looking at his messages, smiling, and saying, “This man again!” Other times, he suspected that she had employed someone to manage her inbox because the workload was becoming too much. After all, a person who receives “Hi, babe” every day for months deserves either a salary or a certificate in customer care. Still, the young man refused to give up.
Whenever he saw her beautiful face on Facebook and on WhatsApp status, his heart would begin composing messages before his brain had approved them. He continued sending greetings, hoping that one day she would wake up, open her WhatsApp, and discover that the man of her dreams had been hiding among the many “Hello, sweet one” notifications. But the lady did not respond.
“She must be feeling herself, sugar!” he concluded one day. He meant that she was probably so impressed by her beauty that she considered ordinary greetings unworthy of her attention. He could not understand why a simple “Hi, babe” could not earn him even a small “Hi” in return.
One month passed. Another followed. The months gathered themselves together and became a year. Then another year arrived, carrying more greetings from the same determined young man. By this time, his WhatsApp had become a museum of unanswered messages. If messages could testify in court, his would have presented enough evidence to establish that he had made serious efforts to communicate. Yet the lady remained silent.
The young man was almost ready to conclude that she had developed an allergy to greetings. Then, one beautiful day, something happened that changed the course of his romantic life.
He was walking past a designer clothing shop when something caught his eye. Displayed beautifully inside the shop was a gorgeous dress for a lady. Beside it was a smaller dress for a little girl. The two outfits matched perfectly.
The adult dress was elegant, and the little girl's dress was equally beautiful. Together, they looked like a mother-and-daughter fashion team preparing to attend a wedding where even the photographer would need to dress well.
The young man stopped. He looked at the dresses. He looked again. Then he remembered the beautiful lady who had occupied his thoughts, his phone, and a considerable portion of his internet bundles for years. He also remembered her little girl.
Suddenly, an idea entered his head. He took out his phone and photographed the two dresses. He examined the picture carefully before sending it to the lady on WhatsApp. Then he typed a message, “I saw this and thought of you. Would you mind if I bought it for you and your baby?” He pressed the send button.
For once, he did not follow the message with “Hello, hello.” He did not add “Niaje, mrembo.” He did not send a second message asking whether she had seen the first one. He simply waited. One second passed. Two seconds. Three seconds.
The young man stared at his phone. Perhaps the message had gone to the wrong person. Perhaps WhatsApp had developed a problem. Perhaps the network was finally determined to protect his heart from further disappointment.
Then, within ten seconds, his phone came alive! The lady had replied, “OH YES, DARLING!” Darling! The young man nearly dropped his phone.
For years, he had sent her “sweet one,” “cute lady,” “babe girl,” and every romantic greeting known to humanity. Not once had she honoured him with a reply. Now, after mentioning two dresses, he had suddenly graduated from an ordinary man to “Darling.”
He read the message again. “Yes, darling.” He read it a third time. “Yes, darling.” He looked around to confirm that nobody had secretly replaced his phone. Was this the same woman? The same WhatsApp number? The same lady who had treated his greetings like political campaign messages?
He opened their conversation and scrolled upwards. There they were “Hi, gal.” “Hello, sweet one.” “Niaje, mrembo.” “Hae, babe girl.” Greetings from months and years ago, sitting quietly like abandoned passengers at a bus stop.
The young man burst into laughter. He laughed until he had to wipe tears from his eyes. Then he said to himself, “At last, I have discovered the language of this lady! All these years, I have been speaking English, Swahili, and the international language of romance. Meanwhile, she has been waiting for me to speak the language of material things!”
He shook his head in disbelief. “If I had known that a dress could speak better than a thousand greetings, I would have saved my internet bundles long ago!”
He began imagining what might happen if he sent her a photograph of a handbag, a pair of shoes, or perhaps a nice phone. Would she call him “my king”? Would she promote him from “darling” to “the love of my life”? If he sent a photograph of a car, would she begin looking for wedding venues? He laughed again.
The young man decided to pursue her using the most advanced technology available to him: Facebook, WhatsApp, and other messaging applications. He was determined to win her heart, one greeting at a time. Every morning, his fingers went to work before the rest of his body had fully awakened.
“Hi, gal!”
“Hae, babe girl!”
“Hello, hello!”
“Hello, cute lady!”
“Hello, sweet one!”
“Niaje, mrembo?”
Sometimes, he even combined several greetings into one message, hoping that if one failed to open the door, the others would at least squeeze through the window.
Unfortunately, the lady remained silent. His greetings entered her inbox like visitors arriving at a wedding where nobody had invited them. They came in different styles, colours, and languages, but none received the honour of a reply.
He sent messages in the morning. He sent others in the afternoon. When evening arrived, he would try again, as though the lady might have spent the entire day waiting for darkness before checking her phone. Nothing! Even his telephone calls went unanswered. His phone would ring, ring, and ring until he began to feel that the ringtone itself was embarrassing him.
Sometimes, he imagined the lady looking at his messages, smiling, and saying, “This man again!” Other times, he suspected that she had employed someone to manage her inbox because the workload was becoming too much. After all, a person who receives “Hi, babe” every day for months deserves either a salary or a certificate in customer care. Still, the young man refused to give up.
Whenever he saw her beautiful face on Facebook and on WhatsApp status, his heart would begin composing messages before his brain had approved them. He continued sending greetings, hoping that one day she would wake up, open her WhatsApp, and discover that the man of her dreams had been hiding among the many “Hello, sweet one” notifications. But the lady did not respond.
“She must be feeling herself, sugar!” he concluded one day. He meant that she was probably so impressed by her beauty that she considered ordinary greetings unworthy of her attention. He could not understand why a simple “Hi, babe” could not earn him even a small “Hi” in return.
One month passed. Another followed. The months gathered themselves together and became a year. Then another year arrived, carrying more greetings from the same determined young man. By this time, his WhatsApp had become a museum of unanswered messages. If messages could testify in court, his would have presented enough evidence to establish that he had made serious efforts to communicate. Yet the lady remained silent.
The young man was almost ready to conclude that she had developed an allergy to greetings. Then, one beautiful day, something happened that changed the course of his romantic life.
He was walking past a designer clothing shop when something caught his eye. Displayed beautifully inside the shop was a gorgeous dress for a lady. Beside it was a smaller dress for a little girl. The two outfits matched perfectly.
The adult dress was elegant, and the little girl's dress was equally beautiful. Together, they looked like a mother-and-daughter fashion team preparing to attend a wedding where even the photographer would need to dress well.
The young man stopped. He looked at the dresses. He looked again. Then he remembered the beautiful lady who had occupied his thoughts, his phone, and a considerable portion of his internet bundles for years. He also remembered her little girl.
Suddenly, an idea entered his head. He took out his phone and photographed the two dresses. He examined the picture carefully before sending it to the lady on WhatsApp. Then he typed a message, “I saw this and thought of you. Would you mind if I bought it for you and your baby?” He pressed the send button.
For once, he did not follow the message with “Hello, hello.” He did not add “Niaje, mrembo.” He did not send a second message asking whether she had seen the first one. He simply waited. One second passed. Two seconds. Three seconds.
The young man stared at his phone. Perhaps the message had gone to the wrong person. Perhaps WhatsApp had developed a problem. Perhaps the network was finally determined to protect his heart from further disappointment.
Then, within ten seconds, his phone came alive! The lady had replied, “OH YES, DARLING!” Darling! The young man nearly dropped his phone.
For years, he had sent her “sweet one,” “cute lady,” “babe girl,” and every romantic greeting known to humanity. Not once had she honoured him with a reply. Now, after mentioning two dresses, he had suddenly graduated from an ordinary man to “Darling.”
He read the message again. “Yes, darling.” He read it a third time. “Yes, darling.” He looked around to confirm that nobody had secretly replaced his phone. Was this the same woman? The same WhatsApp number? The same lady who had treated his greetings like political campaign messages?
He opened their conversation and scrolled upwards. There they were “Hi, gal.” “Hello, sweet one.” “Niaje, mrembo.” “Hae, babe girl.” Greetings from months and years ago, sitting quietly like abandoned passengers at a bus stop.
The young man burst into laughter. He laughed until he had to wipe tears from his eyes. Then he said to himself, “At last, I have discovered the language of this lady! All these years, I have been speaking English, Swahili, and the international language of romance. Meanwhile, she has been waiting for me to speak the language of material things!”
He shook his head in disbelief. “If I had known that a dress could speak better than a thousand greetings, I would have saved my internet bundles long ago!”
He began imagining what might happen if he sent her a photograph of a handbag, a pair of shoes, or perhaps a nice phone. Would she call him “my king”? Would she promote him from “darling” to “the love of my life”? If he sent a photograph of a car, would she begin looking for wedding venues? He laughed again.
Of course, he had not yet bought the dresses. He had only asked whether he could buy them. Yet the word “darling” had arrived faster than a boda boda rider rushing to deliver an urgent parcel.
The young man now understood why his romantic greetings had been travelling without a response. Perhaps he had been sending messages to the wrong department. His greetings were reporting to the Department of Romance, while the lady's attention was managed by the Department of Gifts and Presents. He had been knocking on the door with words when he should have discovered what kind of conversation interested her.
But let us be fair. Not every woman behaves this way, and not every man who sends greetings is looking for a wife. Some people genuinely appreciate thoughtful messages, while others prefer actions that demonstrate seriousness. And there is nothing wrong with buying a gift for someone you care about, provided the gift is freely given and does not become a price tag attached to affection.
The real lesson is that communication is not always about how many messages you send. Sometimes, it is about whether the other person is interested in communicating with you at all.
If someone consistently ignores your greetings, do not spend years sending “Hello, beautiful” as though you are trying to unlock a forgotten password. You can express your interest respectfully, but you must also respect silence. A person is not obligated to respond simply because you have invested heavily in greetings.
And if someone only becomes interested when money or gifts enter the conversation, pay attention. You may have discovered an important difference between genuine affection and an interest in what you can provide.
Now, to all the men who fill women's Facebook, WhatsApp, and other inboxes with “Hi, babe,” “Hello, sweet one,” “Niaje, mrembo,” and other romantic greetings, here is my question, "Do you know that some people understand the language of material things better than the language of greetings?"
You may have sent a thousand messages without receiving a single reply, only to discover that one photograph of a dress can produce a response in ten seconds.
But before you rush to the nearest designer shop, remember this: do not bankrupt yourself trying to purchase somebody's attention. If your greetings are not welcome, move on with dignity. If you choose to give a gift, give it because you genuinely want to, not because you expect to buy love.
After all, a man can buy a dress, a handbag, shoes, and even a whole wardrobe. But he cannot purchase genuine affection from a person who does not feel it.
And if you ever find yourself wondering why “Hi, babe” has failed while “Can I buy you this dress?” has succeeded, perhaps you have not discovered the language of all women. Perhaps you have simply discovered the language of one particular inbox!
Moral of the story: Words may introduce you, but actions reveal you. Just make sure your actions are guided by wisdom, not desperation and never confuse a fast reply with a faithful heart.
The young man now understood why his romantic greetings had been travelling without a response. Perhaps he had been sending messages to the wrong department. His greetings were reporting to the Department of Romance, while the lady's attention was managed by the Department of Gifts and Presents. He had been knocking on the door with words when he should have discovered what kind of conversation interested her.
But let us be fair. Not every woman behaves this way, and not every man who sends greetings is looking for a wife. Some people genuinely appreciate thoughtful messages, while others prefer actions that demonstrate seriousness. And there is nothing wrong with buying a gift for someone you care about, provided the gift is freely given and does not become a price tag attached to affection.
The real lesson is that communication is not always about how many messages you send. Sometimes, it is about whether the other person is interested in communicating with you at all.
If someone consistently ignores your greetings, do not spend years sending “Hello, beautiful” as though you are trying to unlock a forgotten password. You can express your interest respectfully, but you must also respect silence. A person is not obligated to respond simply because you have invested heavily in greetings.
And if someone only becomes interested when money or gifts enter the conversation, pay attention. You may have discovered an important difference between genuine affection and an interest in what you can provide.
Now, to all the men who fill women's Facebook, WhatsApp, and other inboxes with “Hi, babe,” “Hello, sweet one,” “Niaje, mrembo,” and other romantic greetings, here is my question, "Do you know that some people understand the language of material things better than the language of greetings?"
You may have sent a thousand messages without receiving a single reply, only to discover that one photograph of a dress can produce a response in ten seconds.
But before you rush to the nearest designer shop, remember this: do not bankrupt yourself trying to purchase somebody's attention. If your greetings are not welcome, move on with dignity. If you choose to give a gift, give it because you genuinely want to, not because you expect to buy love.
After all, a man can buy a dress, a handbag, shoes, and even a whole wardrobe. But he cannot purchase genuine affection from a person who does not feel it.
And if you ever find yourself wondering why “Hi, babe” has failed while “Can I buy you this dress?” has succeeded, perhaps you have not discovered the language of all women. Perhaps you have simply discovered the language of one particular inbox!
Moral of the story: Words may introduce you, but actions reveal you. Just make sure your actions are guided by wisdom, not desperation and never confuse a fast reply with a faithful heart.
