Where Are My Children?

Dear Nigerian Husband,

I’m sure you’ve noticed I’ve not written you any letters for a few months. Actually, scratch that. I hope you’re miserable over not receiving any letters from me. You’re entire life should be based on my correspondence with you. You should be miserable, you should skip meals. Heck, be in moaning, My communication with you should be everything!

I refrained from writing you all these months thinking you’d use your initiative and finally show up. I’ve been so wrong.

You’ve remained adamant on making me wait endlessly for your love, but best believe I’m taking all control off your hands. I’ve just been quiet while being a good girl with proper home training; not trying to be to noisy and demanding.

I’ve had enough of people insinuate I’m ripe for marriage, I’m fed up of random strangers think my friends’ babies are mine. Please, come and make my life complete. My mates whose bride prices they are paying every week do they have three heads? Haba, who this your stubbornness ep?

I had dinner with my landlord today, apparently, he too has been secretly plotting my motherhood. But I think he’s just about given up, or not really.

After he let me serve myself two bowls of his tomato/chicken soup, we began watching tv shows. He loves to talk so at least every five minutes, he came up with off topics.

Landlord: Vou, so you heard Janet Jackson is pregnant?
Me: Oh really, good for her.
Landlord: Well, you know she’s 49? Vou, that means there’s hope for you.

Dear Nigerian Husband, how dare you just stay there and let this humiliation continue? Pleas show up and take me out of my misery. What kind of man are you? I know your parents raised you better than this. Your father must be pretty disappointed in you knowing you have a damsel in this situation.

I’m a few months short of issuing you an ultimatum.

Ah Ah, all your mates that are getting married and having plenty of children, do they have two heads? Shame on you. You’re there doing big boy while your friends are building empires filled with children that will carry their last names for generations to come.

Don’t let me write you with such a tone again. Act accordingly, biko.

I’m done

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8 thoughts on “Where Are My Children?

  1. I really love reading your post…always cracks me up. Your landlord by the way…loool
    Hope you know you are writing this husband on behalf of all of us… so thanks..lol

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