Dear Future Wife,

I know it's been a long time I wrote to you. The devil have tried every available means possible to make me forget about you.

For example if you read my "April fools' experience" Gosh! That was the closest I came to cheating on you. But I know you have a kind heart and therefore you've forgiven me already. But sweet heart, don't you think its high time you write me a letter? This is my fifth letter to you(not counting the numerous letters I forgot to publish or the ones I wrote way back in primary and secondary school. Not that I'm complaining or anything. But all I need is just a letter(yes just one) and I'll be the most happiest guy on earth. (My email's "hendrix@doctor.com" incase you forgot)

Anyways cocoa, (you don't mind me calling you that right?) Lately I have been inundated by texts of all kinds, graphics too, addressing me as some sort of coward or shy person who refuses to step forward and take his destiny in his hands. May I dis-abuse that notion and in my own defence say, I am not!

From display pictures (DPs) that read “I wonder what my future husband is doing right now” to the absolutely annoying “dear future husband, you dey mad ni? Must I date every boy before you come?” To the insanely hilarious write by kemmiiii that made me laugh till tears welled in my eyes, I have decided to respond and allay some of your fears.

As confused and angry as you may be right now concerning my supposed identity, please note that I am more impatient to meet you. To see your wonderful face and be lost in your smile. To know you more than anyone else could claim. To laugh with you and lend a shoulder for you to cry on.

Dear wife, understand this, I am impatient to meet you because I would be your boyfriend – your friend, a boy – the trustworthy dependable guy you relax with. The person who you wear no airs around. The one whose number is first on your speed-dial. I will be the friend who makes you laugh until it hurts, be there when you are passing through your phases, a constant familiar face that goes through the darkness with you
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We will hang out together, go grab amala at Iya Mulika’s joint. Watch Arsenal play, (hopefully Arsene Wenger would have been cured of his dementia) together supporting as the team conquers England, Europe and then the world. Our voices lost as we give ourselves over to frenzied shouts that spurs the team on from a million miles away.


There will be no secrets between us. My eyes will reveal what is in my heart, it will start dancing at the sight of you. You alone will have the access to the codes of my mumu button; still I will be your friend, a boy, and maybe, your best-friend.

Your girlfriends will get jealous of our relationship, my boyfriends will pray for my soul and scheme to deliver me. Yet will our bond grow strong. We will ride the crest of time together, brave the gloomy valley hand in hand trusting each other implicitly and knowing that with each other, we are safe. Still I will only be your friend, a boy, maybe your best-friend.

And as we grow, as you are about to make the greatest decision in your life, as always mine would be the first name you say, the one you come to for advise and as we talk and discuss the subject of marriage your eyes will open in an epiphaneous (pardon the word – epiphany) moment and you will see I have always been there, your friend, your ally, your rock. Waiting, for the time your eyes will open and you will see, I have always been there keeping watch over you till you are ready to admit to yourself that I, I am the one for you.

-your future husband
Hendrix

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