It was last Tuesday; my phone rang at exactly 10:08pm. I had just finished watching Chelsea’s thumping victory over Steaua Bucharest in the Champion’s League. It was not only a sweet victory, it was also a massive for yours truly after the shocking lost to Basel in the opener at Stamford Bridge.
Recently, my mum has renewed her struggle – a struggle to liberate me from the claws of bachelorhood. I have, or rather, my case has become her main prayer point these days. My kinsmen have paid me a courtesy call on the same matter; the elderly women in my village have offered a collection of spinsters for me to choose from without a charge. They say I am the oldest bachelor in the history of the village. My case is that pathetic, hence, they are giving me a waiver on bride price.
