My Open Final Conversations With 2023
Imagine me on a call with 2023, but this time, with awesome wordplays and witty rhymes 🤩.
So, I wrote this piece titled “My Open Send-Off Letter To 2016” on the 31st of December 2016. I remembered it today and decided to look for it. I found it on Nairaland.
I decided to read it, and it had me impressed. I was like, “This is lit! I wrote this?”. I know I’m good good, but I can’t remember being that good in 2016.
So, I decided to bring it back. It’s a beautiful piece with awesome wordplay and witty rhymes—more like me on a call with
2016 2023 as the second person. So here you have it…
Subtle Note: Compared to the 2016 piece, I’ve replaced some dates and references to fit the present time, 2023. I also removed some annoying 2016 abbreviations, e.g. u instead of you, buh instead of but.
You can click here to read the old piece.
Hello 2023, it's your boy, FATTKAY,
This is a piece from me to you, coupled with some words from the street, with no intention to berate,
Looking through my windowpanes, I can see you stuffing your bags, getting ready to vacate,
But you are looking confused, like a clueless 3rd class student getting ready to graduate,
Take this not personally; no hostility; at the same time, no placate.
I understand you must be feeling dejected, but I hope you can read,
I never really expected this piece to get to you in a happy mood, to be real,
I know you are definitely gonna miss this land. If only for the fact that it's green, that’s guaranteed,
I’ll miss you too, but I’m still gonna have a nice time tonight, probably even enjoy an act of venereal,
So, pack swiftly, dear friend. It's time to recede.
January 1, 2024, will be a new day,
By then, I will pay my last respects to you. Hope you would have found a new place,
If not, you can call 2020. I heard he’s somewhere in the East, having a nice life in a deep cave,
Otherwise, just get some vantage corner to lay your soul; I don't care if it is or not too safe,
Because… there is no extra time, we cannot extend the year. All excuses are too lame,
I believe you tried your best, but you could have done better, as most of your glories were self-acclaimed.
This your regime wasn't so smooth — come let's talk,
It was even a bit too fast, like some 4 X 4,
Jessica wasn't lucky enough to get a husband; I mean the girl next door,
My first-class cousin couldn't even get a great job; just well done,
He was moving from office to office, and they kept telling him to knock next one,
David couldn't get enough purchasing power to burst those malls,
Femi did too much drugs; clothes got torn,
Some families left home happily and came back sore,
Some were on innocent adventures to Ukraine and encountered drop-top bombs,
In this process, too much blood got poured,
And to top it all up, inflation and recession did their thing; finances got robbed.
Despite all the resolutions and promises at the beginning of the year,
They asked several times, but you kept telling them it was near,
Now, where are the fulfilments? Here or there?
Is it your fault or mine, or theirs? Wear or tear?
Nevertheless, how do we transport you out of here? I’m booking Uber. Which car do you prefer: Toyota, Honda or Kia?
On second thought, maybe you are not at fault that a good number were unlucky,
Because you didn't stop Cousin James from getting a job at Google and moving to Kentucky,
Some people collected 500K mint with 650K and sprayed it all at the club, ask Yhemolee,
Some were even overfed, got all fat and chubby,
Some college girls were too happy with life, got all cocky and saucy,
Some hardworking ones got well paid; their purse never knew the word ugly,
Max bought 3 cars during your regime; like he was doing motion study,
These are good phenomena worth mentioning, not nature studies,
So, with these few points of mine, you are worthy of some praise. if I was initially ruthless, I'm sorry.
Appreciations should never be left undone,
Thanks for leaving my family and I, untouched,
Thanks for keeping our sorrows in you, unborn, till you are gone,
We didn't even cry, not to talk of mourn,
Accept these appreciations, all said and done.
Now to the last bullet, the postscript that's next,
Please be fast with the packing because, before 2024 packs in, we still have to clean the duplex,
Say me hi to 2022, tell it I miss the one it left with, that's Juliet,
I will always refer to your regime, emphasising the goodness,
I’m moving on, and I hope you do too. You might be good, but not the best,
I won't castigate you, though. You might be bad, but not worth stoning to death,
Mixed feelings of nostalgia and appreciation fill this depth,
I never believed this day would come so fast, 30 seconds sex.