Valentine’s in Darkness: When Nepa, Love, and Chaos Collide

Prologue:
In Nigeria, Valentine’s Day isn’t just a day for flowers and love songs. It’s a survival challenge. Imagine this: romantic dinner plans, a beautiful woman walking through your door, and then BAM!, Nepa strikes. Enter Chike, who’s trying his hardest to avoid a repeat of last year’s spaghetti disaster, but guess who’s about to crash this love party? Oh, you’ll see.

Act I: Chike’s Plan—Better Than Last Year, Right?

Chike had a vision: Valentine’s 2024 was going to be different. It was his redemption arc.

• Spaghetti? Of course.
• Wine? Maybe two bottles.
• Romance? 100

Two weeks ago, Ada, his girlfriend, dropped the bomb:

• “Chike, I’m tired of the bare minimum. No plans, no effort. Do you even love me?”

The question haunted him. Chike vowed to prove himself.

Chike’s Thought Process:

• “This year, Ada’s going to see that I’m not just talking love. I’m showing it. I even bought a teddy bear. Not just any teddy bear—this thing is like the size of a toddler. She’ll think I’m romantic and thoughtful.”
• “Generator? Check. Spaghetti recipe? Perfected.”

He even ironed his best white kaftan, despite Lagos heat threatening to wrinkle it on sight.

At 7:30 PM, his apartment was perfect. Candles flickered romantically. Spaghetti simmered gently. The air smelled of roses and determination.

8:00 PM. Ada walked in, her red gown flowing behind her like liquid fire in Chike’s dimly-lit living room. But she wasn’t really seeing the room yet. No, Ada had eyes only for the man of the hour.

That was, until… the lights flickered and the house descended into pitch black.

But love stories rarely go as planned.

Act II: NEPA Strikes, Love Collides

The first flicker of light wasn’t alarming.
Ada (laughing): “Is the Neps teasing us?”
Chike: “Relax, baby. We’ve got backup.”

The second flicker came with a loud CLICK. Darkness. Silence. The Neps had struck.

Ada: “Chike… What’s going on?”
Chike (confidently): “Don’t worry. My generator will save the night.”

He confidently pulled the curtain back and looked at his generator. Ah yes, the beloved “I-better-pass-my-neighbor” machine. It had always been there for him. He yanked the cord. The generator sputtered weakly, coughed once, and silence.

Ada (from the living room): “Chike? What’s happening?!”
Chike (sweating): “I got this baby, Just give me a minute!”

Ada (half-laughing): “Is this a joke?”
Chike (frantically pulling again): “No, no, no, no—please, not today!”

By the fifth pull, Chike knew he was doomed. The generator refused to come alive. (But it worked last night)

Cue the awkward silence as Chike stood there, sweating, his I-got-this mask cracking.

Act III: The Candlelit Disaster

Back inside, Chike lit candles to salvage the mood. But the dim flickering only highlighted the sweat gathering on his forehead. Ada fanned herself with her Valentine’s card, her patience wearing thin.

Ada: “Is this your big Valentine surprise? Darkness and heat?”
Chike: “Baby, this is just a minor setback. Let me play some music.”

His phone, however, had other plans. It blinked a low-battery warning and died mid-Essence by Wizkid. He definitely needed another body (battery).

Ada gave him a sharp look. “Chike. Fix this. Now.”

Act IV: Enter Mama Nkechi, Agent of Chaos

Before Chike could even think about lighting candles, the doorbell rang. No, it wasn’t Ada’s second-skin-tight dress arrival. No, it wasn’t any romantic guest. It was… Mama Nkechi.
Mama Nkechi: “Chike! I smell food o!”

Just like that, the calm was shattered. Mama Nkechi marched right in like she was the guest of honor.

Mama Nkechi (loudly): “What is this? Is NEPA playing you today? This nonsense has happened before. I’m not surprised!”
Chike’s blood ran cold. But Mama Nkechi wasn’t just any neighbor. She was a Facebook live-streamer, and she didn’t hesitate to whip out her phone.

Mama Nkechi (loudly into the camera): “Good evening, my people! Here I am again, helping this boy with his Valentine’s problems!”

Act V: The Great Facebook Live Debacle

In seconds, Mama Nkechi’s Facebook Live was buzzing.

• Caption: “Young man caught doing rituals with his girlfriend on Valentine’s Day. #PrayForOurYouth”
• Viewers: Over 2,000 within minutes.

Comments Section:

1. “Chike, is this what we call romance in 2024? NEPA and bad spaghetti?”
2. “So this is how you’ll break my heart? Doing ‘rituals’ on Valentine’s?”
3. “Is that a teddy bear? Or is it a decoy?”

Ada, furious, tried to grab the phone. “Stop recording us!”
Mama Nkechi dodged, yelling, “I’m protecting the community!”

Chike stood frozen, caught between Ada’s glare and Mama Nkechi’s relentless commentary.

Act VI: The Spaghetti Redemption

Finally, as if by divine intervention (or just sheer desperation), Chike walked to the table with the spaghetti of redemption. He set it down with the grace of someone delivering the final punchline to an awkward joke.

Chike (smiling): “Ada, this is it. The spaghetti of my love.”

Ada took a bite. Silence.
She chewed. Slowly. Thoughtfully.

Ada (deadpan): “Chike, this tastes… interesting. What’s the secret ingredient?”
Chike (nervously): “Love. A lot of love.”

Act VII: The Aftermath

The night ended with Chike and Ada sitting on the balcony, looking at the stars, the one place NEPA couldn’t touch.

Ada: “Well, that was… something.”
Chike: “Next year will be perfect, I swear. Generator will work. Mama Nkechi will not be invited.”

They both laughed, and for the first time that evening, things actually felt… right. Maybe love wasn’t about perfect plans, perfect lights, or perfect spaghetti after all. It was about surviving the madness together.