Dear Diary, Just yesterday morning, somewhere between the hours of ten and eleven, yours truly reached for his Kiwi Polish, brush and shoe-shiner. I was scheduled to see a prospective client so I needed to make an impression. My good friend, Okoruwa Esele, told me that one of the very accurate ways to determine how deep or shallow a gentlemans pocket is, is to pay careful attention to the shoes hes wearing. She argued that the mobile phones, wristwatch or neck chains a chap wears could be quite misleading. It was always better to look and access the cost & quality of his legs. Somehow, I agree with her. Consequently, I needed to polish my shoes. Though the shoe was far from being expensive and neither was it in the class one of those high class wears, I felt the Cobblers Kiwi Polish, Brush and Shoe-Shinner can do the magic. Prior yesterday, I have been opportune to see Kiwi transform the look of some shoes so I had faith in mine. The plan was to make my shoe shine bright like a Diamond. Apologies to Rihanna. Having thought of a remedy, I walked majestically to pick up my old shoes. I knew age was not on its size but I didnt mind. The leather container had just a few months to earn its retirement, I thought. The last shoe I bought before this one lived a longer life so I wondered why I should permit an early retirement for my cherished black shoe. Anyway, upon picking up the left pair, I learnt a new. The shoe was already in a bad shape. My leg had given the shoe a different shape from what its manufacturer intended. The sole had eaten deeply at one end leaving it with tilting to a corner. I felt very sad. I picked up the other pair but only to meet it in a more critical condition. At that point, I felt like a terrorist. How can I be so mean? I had over-used and punish the innocent pair of shoes. I knew even Kiwi could not revive the pair of shoes. Even Ebola could not be so inhumane. With a disappointed face, I returned the unopened Kiwi and her accessories. Momentarily, I felt terrible. Prior then, I felt sorry for the shoes but I was beginning to feel sorry for myself. I wanted to complain but my third sense quickly remembered something very important and inspiring - the President Had No Shoes! If my President had no shoes and I have worn out shoes, it kinda shows there is something common between us. Perhaps, I too will be President soon; sooner than the coming of Christ. Quite interestingly, I also have a bowler hat. With this new knowledge, I changed my mind. My intention was to get a new pair of shoes while I was heading for my appointment but I abandoned that plan so I can be like Mr. President. I didnt buy any pair of shoe anymore so that I can someday say I Had No Shoes. Yours truly, Sir-Darlington Enereba darlingtonenereba@gmail 7C506F4E dyeari.blogspot/2014/09/i-too-have-no-shoes.html
Posted on: Wed, 03 Sep 2014 06:59:34 +0000
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