Today, 25th August 2118, is my birthday.
I remember century ago. Twenty fifth birthday, I had stood in the center to cut the cake. You were there, remember?
I write to you to remind you how you made sure the whole world graced my day, you placed star in my sky that night, I remember the smiles you switched on peoples’ slipping face.
I forget my gender when I remember you.
I can see them now grinning forever, fresh pictures of the past. You were comedy yourself, your unpredictable steps you throw in your dance, and the songs beat doesn’t concern you. That’s something ecstatic about you.
Oh my God, the night has got stars…
You dance off beat and we’re forced to imitate you to dance like we had the hardest weed in our head.
I see your legs patting the floor with your black polished shoe and your dancing hands playing the air.
I write to you because here the earth is juxtaposed for perhaps good or bad. I don’t know if you see what we see.
You should.
Today’s my birthday.
Where’re you?
Where’re you to start taking ‘selfies’ with your shoe, we had no ‘selfie’ in shoes then but now, even our power banks and pen does better than the camera on phones.
I would’ve shown you some pictures I saved with my ruling tool because it serves only, not as ruler but as card slots. It’s screened for watching videos too… My son saved some videos of his lectures in it, I should’ve shown you.
Surprised?
Where’re you to see?
I could dial your number with a pen; our pen could keep us busy online, we browse with it. It could video the hand that keeps it safe for personal use especially when it’s taken without buying. Stealing? No, I don’t think is what we should call it. Or, call it something else, the hand that keeps it safe for personal use.
A pen that could write your experience if instructed and it writes on its own. I mean, it walks on your paper line after line. You’ve not seen it before right? I know.
I’m in love with the amazing things, all you did for me, leave me to write and don’t hold me. Is it your write?
Come out from where you are. I love how you light up the candles for Birthdays and set them on the flowered tables, and then make me walk on petals of happiness. Come out and shout so my Father will ask his normal question when you do so;
“Who’s that dog in my private toilet?”
I want that moment right now. We have now how we shout and everybody in the world will hear your cry.
I want that moment, the sparks of your voice and the sparks of light you kindle on birthdays.
Let me tell you the most painful thing… We call it Presidential swap.
Do you ask how?
After election in a country, the New World electoral Commission (NEWECOM) swaps her president with a country that recently had election.
I’m vexed.
Something grinding my brains is that, most Presidents you knew well are still alive; especially the ones you thought would’ve died long time past.
Imagine dry trees are still strongly rooted in the ground with their peeling barks although they wear cloths. There’s no difference between standing dead and lying dead or lying in the grave.
Nigerian President in the year 2018 is now the United States President. The Nigerian Current president is an Iranian. And, Kenyan President, guess who?
Barrack Obama. Imagine?
Close your eyes for this one…
Nigeria has been Islamized…
I know how you stretched your lips sideways, like you really don’t mean to smile. But you’re glad. You must be glad right?
You were among those that wanted Nigerians to bow their heads to Allah. You were always in the Mosque but we never raised a stone against ourselves in the house because you went to the Mosque while we went to Church.
But the most interesting thing is, our lives were flourished for good, we always showed the world our shoveled teeth and we never cared because you were there.
Technology has done it again…
We’ve got eyes in our legs, taking shots of mind blowing moments of life. Yes, a shoe, it could be operated with a remote in your hand so you can fly to any country of your choice. I wish you’re here so we could fly together. Most annoying thing is, Nigeria is almost empty, everybody has flown abroad. It’s like nobody is here.
Should I fly too? No, I’m heaps bending and hoary have grown on my hair, very old my darling.
Today is my birthday, who will I share with…?
I’m surprised, technology did it too… Imagine doctors now exhume corps and take them to the hospital and they would be glad to treat a dead man to live again.
South Africa heard about the technology, and today Mandela is not just the President of South Africa but President of Africa.
The New world electoral commission (NEWECOM) conducts election for continental presidents. Mandela, rules Africa.
NEWECOME couldn’t swap Mandela with Donald Trump. South Africa caused a heated war and lives were lost. The truth is that, Americans Prefer Mandela to Trump while Donald is now European’s President.
Sweetheart believe me, Obsanjo is yet to die. He’s the Pharaoh of Egypt, Imagine that monkey?
He’s lucky a man. If it were to be in the days of Moses and the Israelites, Moses would’ve struck his head with his rod and the red sea would be divided on his head… Oh no, my boiling heart.
The earth seems to have advanced unnecessarily that technology seems to be a joke.
I wonder why I could use a device to know what’s in your mind. I wonder where the world is heading to.
I mean with technology, I can walk in and out through the doors of your heart and assess your thoughts through the channels that lead to your brain.
I mean, your daughter, Evelyn once had a crush on a Man and he immediately told her what she filled her thoughts with.
When she denied he showed her the device and mind waves that flew up and down indicating deflections and ticks of love in Evelyn’s head …
Evelyn went through tears, she refused to taste anything and she hated technology to her bone marrows.
I hate what shape scientists are forming technology into because it’s becoming useless.
I’ve seen men talk to me on phone, chat me on face book yet, they’re written programs. They have the sexiest voice, real, like you want to feel some touch, soft and light, thick and strong like you’re feeling the real thing and… Oh, I’m sorry.
Are you vexed? Sorry.
You’re sexier in your voice, thicker… Oh my God, I miss you right now… Where’re you?
Where’re you to pat my back the way you do with your soft sleeping touch, then I receive your pound of flesh, ‘cause no one else does it better… Nobody tried.
But I wish you could come here right now and see for yourself how things have gone wrong. How the chef decides to cook noodles by putting tons of salt first and mixing it with grains of corn with some drops of red wine, spoonful pepper to the smallest sachet of noodles yet, he cooks it undone.
The taste of that noodle is the taste of the world now.
I want to go to the, Shop-the-world plaza and Shop bite, to take some walk and feel good, and then buy some pizza and plantain cheese, imported but the traffic jam is terrifying. I remember we use to do this together.
Hey! Are you playing music there? No wonder, I guess it’s the song of saints and Angels. I’m glad you got home safely.
I’m glad our Son bought me a flying car. I groove in the air. I wish to fly with you to Shop bite, Mr. Frost my Love and Husband.
You made me feel good and I love you so much!
Rest on and sleep on till we can fly again, together.
Elizabeth!