There is something about waking up on the morning of your birthday. Of course, you are older and then you get reminded about all sorts of things – about how long you have been about and around, where you’ve got it right, where you have been atrocious and where you could have tinkered a little more for better effect. I am a year older today and although I like to think that my birthday or similar anniversaries isn’t overtly special, I am not entirely convinced about that thought. However, I do know that I don’t like to make a party out of my birthday. And even this I am not sure, has passed through enough test to hold true for me.
That noted, it is given that, once again, I’m not blowing out any candle lights on a birthday cake this time around. But at least I am entitled to some birthday wishes. So, dear granter of wishes, here we go again this year. Firstly though, I suspect that some of my wishes from last year were not exactly granted, not because they were ludicrous or outlandish but because the wish list was too lengthy. Therefore, I am attempting an abridged version this time.
A few days back, someone whispered to me that on this day there are certain ‘pests’ I need to get rid of through prayer and even suggested the kind of prayer I should say. I was told that there is no better occasion than today to pray against my enemies, both known and imagined. So I woke up this morning to the rhythm of Durella’s Enemies song. But far from being gifted at marking down any enemies, plus, I am incredibly incapable of imagination when it comes to such issues, I only hummed along enthusiastically to the bridge where the song goes: ko si bi won se le se ma si k’ole m’ole …. (no translation please, go learn your own Yoruba). I didn’t bother with the enemies are many in my life, part.
Talking about enemies, well, in this case pesky well-wishers, dear wish granter, I still have an issue from last year’s wish. Those meddlesome characters are still on my case with regards to the issue of me getting married. It irritates me to think that some of them are, like I pointed out last time out, ‘unattached’ geriatrics compared to me who is just one score and a few years old. Yet these busy bodies fear as they claim, for me that my not being ‘attached’, to their knowledge, is an indication that something is horribly wrong. Dear giver of wife, I didn’t plan to talk about this subject again this year, but I’m glad to ask this all the same. Please, you know that girl, no not the broomstick thin girl, and certainly not that gaunt, plain-looking, bimbo either. You know the one I am talking about, abi? That one with the lips, no not the thick-lipped knocked-kneed one who seems to walk with both feet almost together, I mean not the one with those eyes, those almost perpetually expressionless eyes. I am talking here not about the one who ogles at me each time she sets eyes on me. God forbid, not that plump one, as she likes to be called, who seems like she’s been around for seven lifetimes. Yeah, not that one with a jackal’s laughter, the one who walks with the grace, well, the grace of a kangaroo and has an IQ as high as a room’s temperature in winter. I am not referring to the clunky, clumsy, butter-fingered, traipsing, talkative, curvaceous one, you know, the one with the temperament of a rabid cat – that withdrawn-murderous-withdrawn-murderous temperament. The girl I actually mean here is that one, not the squat, spontaneous but freaky and preternatural one with that dollish look. OK dear provider, since I promised to make this an abridged version, I trust you know the girl I’m talking about here, the one I have been eyeing for God knows how long now. She knows herself and might even read this. So, to keep things abridged, she could even volunteer herself to you to help fill in the blank spaces. Suffice to say that she is the one I have identified for a wife. At least it’s an improvement from last year.
Staying with ‘abridged’, let me lump all the other wishes together because I do not think they allow for any abridgment (I hope to God that that word exists in the English language). I trust you to see some of them through at least.
One more thing, please, not that I am gloating or being insensitive here, but dear mighty one thank you for fulfilling at least one of my wishes from last year, the one about a change in the shape and orientation of our president. But the only problem is that I am afraid that the president you have given us as a substitute still seems to me like an amoeba - his shape or even shade defies my definition and description.
And before I go please, I’m still hoping to take that vacation not to ritzy Sun City, not to decadent Las Vegas, not to breath-stopping Dubai and not to idyllic Riyadh or scenic Milan or Paris, but to somewhere beyond the clouds above, although maybe not in an aeroplane or some space machine. But may no fate willfully misunderstand me and snatch me away forever.
Hip! Hip!! Hip!!!
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