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You risk being called grandpa by your own little ones!!

By Steve Umeme | February 24th 2017
We probably will never admit it – but men too have that biological clock going. The funny thing about life is that it goes on.

It doesn’t stop and wait for you to put your act together. It doesn’t wait for you to clear campus, get your dream job that comes customised with a black Subaru or a year’s supply of fresh weaves.

Life simply goes on. And for most of us, it’s a little scary, and this is why.Two weeks ago, I spend my weekend bonding with my buddies.

 Naturally, I guess due to my age, marriage and the kids subject always pops up.

I have this dude, call him Kizito, who normally throws in his hakuna-haraka-with-these-things response whenever he's smacked with the ‘so when are you settling down?’

One of my cousins though wasn’t convinced. He looked straight into this dude's eyes as if he was watching his own sex-tape, and had asked: How old are you? I swear, he sounded like Mr.Ombayo, my authoritative primary school headmaster!

“Mmmmhh! As in…, Okay, I will be 34 in 3 month’s time,” Kizito fumbled off. Then the discussion got interesting.

Long story short: this is basically the reality of Kizito's life right now. Assuming he gets married in the next one year, for what is worth, he should be expecting his first little rascal, let’s call him/her Kim when he hits 36. By the time Kim bounces into kindergarten, three years later, Kizito will be 40!

Let’s assume Kim is a bright little thing that won’t repeat kindergarten!! Hebu stop rolling your eyes – My neighbor's kid repeated kindergarten coz he failed class one entrance exam.

Crossing fingers, Kizito is made to buy graduation gowns, balloons, and some ridiculous big cake. Wait a minute: yes, I mentioned Kim’s graduation.

 Kwani you have never been tagged on Facebook of pictures of your friends attending their kid’s graduation in kindergarten? My friend, welcome to the new parenting galaxy.

Where were we? Ooh! So crossing my toes, sorry fingers, Kim finally gets admitted to Class One.

Hoping teachers won’t call for strikes every week, little Kim finally clears Class 8. By then this honorable dude, Kizito, will be almost 50, an age where he needs to be drifting into retirement.

 This means by the time Kim graduates from campus, assuming he would still have a job to pay for his/her fees, and fund Kim’s party-like-a-rock-star lifestyle, he will be 54.

Then give Kim two years of tarmacking – I’m being optimistic here – before he/she gets a job.

Remember before Kim gets a job, he/she will still be devouring mlima ya sembe in his dad's house, and incurring unnecessary expenses like asking pesa ya kwenda out. Oh! This generation!

Of course, I am so hoping by this time, Kim won’t have prematurely enjoyed the joy of impregnating Mrs. Jackson’s daughter. Or if Kim, if its a she, won’t be calling some tall, dark, jobless dude living in his parent’s SQ, ‘her handsome baby daddy.’

Remember Kizito is graciously heading to his 60s in full throttle, and we are still talking about Kim, his first rascal. I’m yet to mention Carey The Diva, the second born.

There’s Romney Washington Wanjala, his third born. And if the gods allow, there will still be a Southern Bypass Kardashian Nanjekho.

Halafu you always have to expect the ‘golden handshake’ child. For this one, plan to go ethnic to preserve the Shirandula lineage. So, I will smack him with my ancestor’s name: Matendechere Shirandula.

So, in case Kizito decided to have four rascals – which anyway is the plan from his talk, the reality is that this dude, definitely, will still be changing diapers in his 80s.

Why are you still rolling your eyes? Kwani you don’t know about the Twiraa and Instagram mums of these days? They don’t just pop babies every week like our grandma’s used to do.

These days, I am told, after popping a ka-Kim, they need like kedo four years to first lose that baby fat, look cute on photos for their Facebook albums, and volunteer for my dress my choice movement, before they could consider adding another baby.

We probably will never admit it – but men too have that biological clock going. So, in case a brother has been ‘putting pressure on you’ to meet his old man, walk down the aisle, move in with him in his hostel room, or pop a rascal for him, like ASAP.

Don’t create a WhatsApp group or gather your girlfriends together to discuss the poor chap. No, he hasn’t been diagnosed with prostrate cancer! It’s just that biological thingy.

And for brothers, who are just chilling with – no plans for settling down. No plans for putting their life together.

 No plans to advance their education or career. No plans for savings and investment. No plans for even someday sending the sexy Mrs. Jackson’s daughter to the maternity ward.

No ambitions. No dreams. Remember how we began – unfortunately, life goes on. It waits for no one. My advice – it’s never too late to begin planning your life.

Better late than never, because trust me, we all have that biological thing. If you are like this dude, you risk being called grandpa by your own little ones!!
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