Dear Nigerian Husband,
I’m just about to round off on my letters to you. You’ve been nothing but disrespectful and callous by deciding not to show up.
What you did last night possibly is the proverbial straw that breaks the Carmel’s back.
Let me explain.
After my exercise yesterday, I decided to totally undermine the calories I burnt by making a nice pot of yam porridge.
Yam, vegetables, lean grilled turkey, basil, other herbs, Knor cubes, everything thing else laid out. I started cooking the very popular Nigerian delicacy, all was going fine and well until it was time to put in some hot sauce.
As mundane as it may sound, that hot sauce made me realize it’s about time I give up on you ever showing up. I recently bought the bottle, like every other bottle, I thought this was going to be easy to open. How wrong was I?
I struggled for nearly 15 minutes, eventually, I made it.
One would imagine, being the very good Nigerian son you are, you’d show up and display your prowess. Foolish me! You stayed there lurking as I squeezed in every bit of energy into opening the darn bottle!
I’ve had it with you. I can do everything for myself. Simple opening of bottle, you couldn’t show up for. Your mates are in their marital homes protecting their wives and children and being amazing fathers, you’re there hiding and running away from opening a simple pepper bottle!
Your father must be pretty embarrassed of your behavior.
I’m giving you just a few more chances and then I’m done with you! Silly.
By the way, here’s the yam porridge and you can’t have any of it.