I wish I could say that on the night I was born the stars shone brighter, or the earth trembled, or it was a full moon and a lot of weird stuff happened to herald my coming.
None of these happened. Nothing spectacular happened…
Unless you are counting the joy in my father’s heart at the birth of his second son. Being an only son taught him one of life’s most valuable lessons for a Nigerian man: No matter how many sisters you had you would always look outside for a brother – for you will seek a brother.
My birth meant my brother would have at least one brother to compete against, hang out with, deliberate with, fight with.
That was all those years ago. These days my brother and I do not compete much. We run with different crowds and so do not hang out much. We deliberate only on earth shattering stuff. And, we are too gentlemanly to fight.
Being second son is not so bad. It comes with a bag full of perks: No pressure to particularly academically excel; No pressure to be analytical or act all wise; No pressure to carry yourself in a dignified manner; No pressure to marry, or marry at a certain age. Simply put, No pressure! With pressure removed, I had time on my hands and I invested all my time and energies into one project and one project alone: Me.
The result is a young man who knows more than a bit about lust, seduction and manipulation.
So when the time came to pick a career, I chose flying. Reason? It is the one field where my set of skills can best be put to use considering the turnover of females per month! Plus I am unattached, obsessive, driven. I have elevated flying beyond a job, it is a way of life. And believe it or not, for now it is enough.
Best part is: all of this happened because two people fell in love. So as I wish me a happy birthday, I also say a prayer for my parents who heard the cry of love and knew each other and beget me. MY PERSONAL HEROES.