“I don’t chase husband. I don’t need one. But if you say you must marry me, these are my conditions.
Number one, you must put me on a monthly salary. I don’t even want to hear stories about your business. “Oh baby, my business is not doing well.” Who cares? You know what they call direct deposit? That’s what you will put me on. Every month, I should get my allowance.
Number two, our baby will be born through a surrogate because I’m not ruining my body to carry your baby. Some of you have very big heads. Big head, big eyes. You will employ a surrogate that will carry that baby.
Number three, when that baby is born, eight nannies must be on standby. I don’t want to hear that after giving birth I can no longer sleep because a baby is crying, “nyah, nyah.”
The nannies will work in shifts — morning, afternoon, and night. The only time I will stand up for that baby is to br&@stf££d or maybe hug my baby. Other than that, changing diapers and all those things are for the nannies.
Number four, as my husband, I don’t want to use my two eyes and see you in the house every day. By the time I wake up in the morning, you should already be on your way to work or wherever it is you go.
I don’t care if you’re an a&m£d r&&b£r. By the time my eyes open to a brand-new day, I better not see you in that house.
Drop money for me before you leave. Let me see dollars on the counter if possible. Say, “Baby, this is for your lunch” or whatever. Then go. By the time I see you again, let it be around 7 p.m. when I’m ready to sleep. You are just there to do your work and get out.
The only days we will be int!m@t£ are on special occasions, your birthday, our wedding anniversary and other special celebrations. Other than that, if you touch me, wahala go dey.
Those are my conditions if you want to marry me. It’s simple. It’s not h@rd at all.
And let’s not forget, you must buy me a car. Every two years, you will upgrade it. I cannot be driving a 2020 car in 2026. As my husband, you have to do all these things…”
