I’ve not written for a while and needless to say, I’ve felt off balanced to a degree. So I want to change that with what I hope would become series of letters to my unborn children. And I hope to tie these series to the series I wrote about their dad.
See, if you’ve been a follower, or occasional visitor to my
writing ramblings, you should be familiar with the letters I wrote to the Nigerian Husband.
When I first wrote him a letter, to be honest, it was really just an attempt to poke fun at patriarchy, especially in the context of Nigerian (or I dare say, African) marriages and relationships.
For the most part, I think I did that for a little while until I began looking for reasons to make myself laugh first, then others. It quickly turned into me chronicling my conversations with guys; what I liked during those encounters and what I was sure I didn’t want from a future partner. I also wrote about the awkward questions people asked me, my cooking adventures, my melancholic moments and more.
I wasn’t actively searching for a partner, not to talk of that partner being Nigerian. I must say though, after dating a couple or more (mostly great) guys that were not Nigerians, I thought it’d be nice to eventually settle down with someone who had a similar upbringing as me and would, hopefully, be able to raise a family the way we both would understand.
I thought I was merely having fun writing and laughing about the Nigerian Husband, but I didn’t know it, much of what I wrote about the Nigerian Husband, I was confessing over myself.
I know better now and for the most part, I try to make sure I utter positive words as God listens when we talk – positive or negative.
In those letters and posts to the Nigerian Husband, I was actually talking about my husband now. We hadn’t known each other then, we had no idea each other existed even.
Now the letters to my twins. (I might as well talk to them before their arrival, same way I “lettered” their father into existence.)