My man must die.

This burial polo cannot waste.

Hello, my wonderful newsletter audience. Today, I am here to ask for help. My man needs to die and I don't know how to go about it.

Before you judge me, let me tell you what really happened. By the time I'm done, I'm sure you'll agree with me as to the fact that he has to die.

So me and this man just started dating, note that before I agreed to be his girlfriend, he was always checking up on me and all that. You know the vibes now, the little constant communication.

That was why last week, when he didn't text me for four days, I was quite surprised. No good morning, no hey babe, nothing nothing. I called his number, he didn't pick and he did not call back. That was how I knew he had to be dead, for sure. No other explanation.

My dear newsletter audience, I was devastated. I finally met the love of my life and he died? Why do I have this kind of bad luck? Is it because I'm black?

Bear in mind that I had just seen Hauwa's video about burial polo like a week before that, I was even laughing about it with this man.

I now thought that I should kuku honor him in his death, the way he honored me when I was alive. Burial polo ways. I'll at least make money to use for retail therapy while mourning his death. Investor moves, who this?!

After printing Adieu papa on t-shirt, I decided to not have a boring funeral, at least let us be able to smile through the pain of burying my love when I couldn't even find his body. I sha called Wasiu Ayinde to come and perform for us.

I even collected loan again after I promised not to collect loan ever again so that I'll have money to call olopo that will fry akara for us. I missed my baby so much.

Now, after everything, tell me why this man's mommy and daddy came to bang my door early in the morning, squeezing their faces and shouting my name. I understood that they had just lost their son, but was it not too early for the mental instability to set in? Abi madness runs in their family before?

I sha opened the door for them, they were now saying rubbish.

His mommy: Why have you been printing my son's face on polo and writing Adieu papa? Are you mad?

Me: Is your son not dead? It's burial polo nau

His daddy: My son said I should tell you he just needs time, he's working on himself and he needs you to give him space. He said I should tell you that it's not you, it's him.

Me:

His mommy: Why are you crying? I've told you he's alive.

Me: I'm manifesting his death. That is how we'll all cry when he dies.

Both of them: God forbid, are you mad?

Me: It is you and your son that is mad. That one is even family issue, it's none of my business. But your son must sha die.

My newsletter audience, that's how they left my house. The issue now, is that we're at the burial ground, Wasiu Ayinde has arrived, akara will soon be ready, we're all wearing our Adieu papa polo, but the corpse has not arrived.

Nobody will leave this place until my man arrives, dead. If you help me to see him, send money to my account, I'll use it to find your address so that he won't know you told me (I'm not trying to collect your money, this is for your own good)

I know my wonderful newsletter audience will help me, that is why I love you guys so much.