Four weddings and perhaps a funeral?

My apologies to Chxta and Toks-Boy. I had been to four weddings this summer and I was holding my breath for a funeral. I crossed my fingers, prayed, found a four-leaf clover, burnt N270m in a graveyard at midnight, held a chicken in Okija shrine in my husbands y-fronts, stole a horseshoe, night-vigiled with my ''pastor'' but Allah did not answer my prayer. I had practiced my one teardrop, slowly rolling down my cheek as I exaggerate the void his passing would leave in the Nigerian polity. I imagined hugging and 'air-kissing' she who knows not her limitations, as I console the family. Alas, it was not to be. He really is the cat with nine lives. Our only consolation is that he has used up five. Four more close shaves and we will finally have some 'goodluck'. However, they say, be careful what you wish for. We might substitute one who is slumbering with one who is catatonic. Anyway, sha, it seems I have to destroy the eulogy I had written...Even if I have to say it myself, it was beautifully written. I had traced his slumbering, right from the old city. I compared him to the 'old lion' who was revered and had charisma. I thought of the older 'broda' who at least had a mind of his own and some initiative...I then realised that a boy was sent to do a mans job. What is he? A man or a mouse? A woman or a wouse?