Birthday Blues

“I'd thought I was immune to growing old. Now it’s happening to me." 

- My Facebook status on February 14th

I always look forward to my birthday for the reason that it doubles as the universal day of love. It’s fun. Everyone remembers your birthday, at least before the rompishness of Valentine sets in to cause momentary amnesia in some people, including angry exes. Believe me, the mushiness of Valentine’s Day is worse on people born on that day. That’s my theory. But it’s good that one enjoys the compensation of doubly greetings: one for birthday, one for love. I’d wish, though, that I got double gifts for both. A girlfriendless status put paid to that. Yuckk!

It turned out to be a day full of surprises, and lots of laughs. My siblings, as usual, had queued to be the first to wish me a happy birthday. My sister especially had called few hours earlier to announce that she is beating everyone to be the first to wish me a happy birthday otherwise she won’t give me a cake the size of a BRT Bus. That night, as I read Wole Soyinka’s Climate of Fear while torturing my ears with shuffled songs from Michael Buble, E. T. Mensah, and Jaheim, the first sms came in. Time, 12:01. Funny, it wasn’t from my sis. Not from any of them.

Lots of calls. One particular case, I had to beg my mum who had jokingly complained that “some unknown people won’t let her talk to her son on his birthday”. And that’s because she got “number busy” for six times on her phone while trying to reach me. I asked who these “unknown people” were. She said, “Six women!” Six WHAT?! Geesuz!

Lots of messages. Lots of CRAZY messages. I think I’m in the wrong circle of friends. Mad people.

Angela’s email: Roses are red. Violets are blue. Quickly make your bed. I’m sending Jenna Jameson to you. Happy Birthday. PS: 24 hours service paid for.

Bukky: Hey horny monk, I’m snowed in here but I wish you lotta ho’s this year.

Tobena’s: Omo Ogun. You made it again. Stupid you. Happy birthday.

I really should start auctioning for new friends.

I’d sufficiently harassed a lot of harassable friends before that day, on facebook, G-chat and on the phone. In a grand fit of excessive fantasizing, I had carefully marched some people to each item on my wish list: iPhone “iSolate” Dock (Boye), Full sponsorship of birthday party at Transcorp Hilton Hotel (Tope), Limited edition of Johnnie Walker with my name engraved on them (Dammy & Wemmy), Audi SUV 2010 model (Yomi), HONDA CR-V 2009 model (Blessing), a new high-end laptop (Prof. T), a puppy St. Bernard (Dr. Femi). This is not an exhaustive list. One of them suggested that I should consider becoming a Sugarboy to Ita-Giwa if half of my wish will materialize. I’m working on it. Wish me luck.

Big surprise. I haven’t been more convinced that Jesus is indeed the lord until I unboxed the gift - a pair of ankle shoes from crazyfella extraordinaire - Dami. I hope it’s not one of his numerous pranks. I’m guessing I would be pressured to pay back in the future. I don’t trust that brother.

So a close friend - her new name will be Amanda, decided to include movies into the birthday menu. Amanda suggested Galleria. Hell no! Don’t quite like that place, except its bookshop. City Mall? Proudly ditched. But now I look back and regret insisting on going to see a movie at The Palms. The traffic on the road to that place is second to itself, which makes me wonder all the fuss about living in Lekki. All the while as she drove, I kept poking my head from the sunroof partly to demonstrate my concern for her plight. Valentine’s Day tickets were sold out, so we settled for Everybody’s Fine. Good movie. I don’t know why it didn’t do well at the box office. And going back home was even worse, but the warm conversation was enough to make up for the drag. I tormented her. That’s not fair considering the shirts and lovely cards. Lekki traffic is crazy.


Happy belated birthday to birthday mates, Spicy and Tisha.

There it goes. Now all I do is muse over my Facebook update, and stare at unopened bottles of wine.

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