I hate birthdays. Yep! You heard me. I hate birthdays. I hate your birthdays because of the obligation it imposes on me to pretend to be nice, and I hate my own birthday even more intensely. You get to fuss over me, and while I may be excused for largely ignoring your birthdays, it would be unpardonable, churlish, and uncouth, if I should fail to acknowledge your outpouring of love and good wishes towards me. You embarrassed me, almost made me blush…😩
Birthdays are rather like the watch, they serve to remind you of the passage of time, and however long the day, it must end with the arrival of midnight. “Ibanuje ni ojo ori”. I find little joy in aging in this country. I have looked around the land, and Nigeria is headed towards the midnight hour, and just as my personal watch has entered its night hours, the Nigerian state that I was birthed into, has entered its denouement.
Your love as received through messages, rekindles my faith in the possibility of dry bones rising again. May God’s grace be multiplied towards you all. Amen. I thank you for your kindness, and I am grateful for your love. You have to love my insufferable person, to have continued to find tolerance for my many shortcomings. Thank you 🙏🏿
I would be failing in my purpose, if I should fail to assure you, that history has no record of evil triumphing over good, or of the human spirit, becoming accepting of injustice. Keep your chins up, be of good cheer, our day cometh.
DF
