At 37, I don’t have a job, nor a wife or girlfriend, I don’t have money, I don’t have a degree to my name, I squat from friend’s house to another, I’m an alcoholic, I smoke like an exhaust of a car then I can say I’m useless. It’s not a new thing to me when people call me useless but in all these there is something I’m good at. Every night this thing keeps my phone ringing. I’m trying to commercialise it fully but the way to go is what I don’t know. I had no influence over it. I was born like that. That’s the only legacy my father left for me. This man died without a property to his name; not even a farm. He left only rags for us to clean up. I didn’t even know my father owed house rent before he died. He has slept with almost all the women in my village. The landlord’s wife was constant every evening for her dose. Reports reaching me told me my mum had to run away after the man nearly killed her with the hammer of horror. That was the legacy he passed across to me. I g...
Wolfax Diaries