Not so dear Amina,
am writing this letter to tell. You keep telling me to get out of my shell. Sho, I resemble egg to you? Must I tell the whole world that we have a thing? I send you the sweet daily texts you requested to the point where I wake you up with a daily dose of poetry like i’m a hotel’s “wake me up” service. Ahn ahn! I even send you flowers: roses and posies every other day of the week. I buy your phones credit: Mtn, Glo and Airtel. I even go as far as buying your T-mobile and lebara top-ups if and when we’re in the UK. And Lebara is cheap ooo kmt. Sometimes, I buy Sandra, your sister’s credit even though she’s your elder sister. Nawa for your family oo, wetin? kilode? Am I the Central Bank Of Nigeria? It’s not like I used to mind, I always knew you were ‘Magalising’ and ‘Mugulising’ me but I liked you so I didn’t give a hoot and half a Kentucky fried chicken. Now, you want me to tell everyone we meet that we’re in a relationship. No “hello, nice to meet you” just “hello, we are in a relationship”: really? Abi, is my “in a relationship with Amina Danjuma” status on Facebook not enough. You even want me to tell my disapproving tribalistic Grandmother that might have a heart attack if she knew I was dating a Hausa girl. For why now? if you were my fiancee now ehen, I for gree but you’re not so calm down! Anyways, it’s too late for you ooo. I don’t want to be your Mugu-Maga anymore so don’t limpopo whatever that means. And no, you can’t chop my money anymore: I care now. Find someone else.
P.S, I loathe you.