Long before smooth DMs and curated playlists, attraction was expressed through awkward humour, exaggerated bravado and lines that felt profound at the time. Looking back now, they were clumsy, innocent and strangely unforgettable.
Here is a light-hearted throwback to some of the classic pick-up lines teenage male students used on their female crushes in secondary school.
“Abeg, can I copy your note?”
This was rarely about academics. It was an excuse to start a conversation, sit closer or prolong eye contact. Sometimes the notebook came back untouched. Sometimes it became the beginning of a quiet classroom friendship.
“You are always neat, sha.”
A safe compliment that sounded mature to a teenage boy. It was respectful, non-threatening and often delivered with a shy smile. To him, it was poetry.
“Who is your best friend?”
This question usually meant one thing. A background investigation was underway. The goal was to find an ally, pass a message or confirm if there was competition.
“You did well in class today.”
Whether she answered a question or not, encouragement became a subtle way to show interest. Academic praise felt serious and responsible, the kind of thing a future husband might say, at least in his imagination.
“Please save me a seat tomorrow.”
This line carried hope. It meant he wanted consistency, proximity and maybe a chance to talk before the teacher arrived. If the seat was saved, it was a small victory.
“You don’t talk too much, I like that.”
Questionable compliment, but popular. Silence was often mistaken for mystery, and mystery was irresistible to teenage boys who barely understood themselves.
“If I become a prefect, will you vote for me?”
Ambition entered the chat. Leadership aspirations became a flirting tool, complete with promises of favours like protection from late punishment or access to the staff room corridor.
“You look like my future.”
Bold, dramatic and usually followed by laughter. This line rarely worked, but it showed courage. In secondary school, courage counted for something.
“Please, help me tell your friend I like her.”
Sometimes the crush was too intimidating, so the safer route was taken. Ironically, this often revealed the real crush in the process.
“Don’t worry, I will escort you to the gate.”
Perhaps the most gentlemanly of them all. Walking a girl to the school gate felt like a public declaration. It was romance, secondary school style.
Looking back, these lines were not smooth or clever. They were sincere attempts by young boys learning how to express interest, affection and admiration with the limited emotional vocabulary they had.
They remind us of a simpler time when liking someone was pure, rejection was survivable, and love notes were folded into tiny squares and passed discreetly under desks.
If you went to secondary school, chances are you either used one of these lines, received one or watched it unfold from a distance with amusement. Either way, they remain a sweet part of our collective coming-of-age story.