They say life is sweet but short. Sometimes I don’t entirely buy the idea. Yes, it is sweet by any measures but I have seen many Christmases that if I retired to my creator I would not question his timing. 

Six decades ago, in my youthful life dating was the most interesting ‘occupation’ since most of us had turned ‘professional.’

What it took was the guts to approach somebody’s daughter and pop the point upfront. Usually, their answer was in the affirmative and I was always on target, ‘sharpshooter’ has always been my middle name.

In those reminiscent days, there were no beaches, cinemas, nakumatt or the special hire taxi, so the financial fear was unheard of. 

After many years in dating retirement, I was tempted (actually forced) to make a come back last year by one of the female journalism interns at my (yes, my) newspaper. Now don’t question my professionalism because I am a disciplined professional.

I had never imagined being ‘seduced’ by a female of my granddaughter’s age but that is how creative the world has become. But don’t call it a cross generational affair.  

These days, you need to be a tycoon of a certain calibre to win somebody’s heart more so if this is the so called elite campus girl.

When I was retiring or being retired from public service or was it private service, part of my package was equally an old Volvo car which has been doing magic with people’s girls.

"Grandpa, I like you because you resemble my late dad,” Queen told me. I was puzzled both by her name and compliment. The next few days she started requesting for a lift from me to campus which of course I could not deny her.

Very crafty have they become that before I could know it all, we were holding hands in public and yes, I had said those three words that I have taken for granted over the years ‘I love you.’

I have been retired for ten years now and with my meagre pension, her consumption capacity and given the financial crunch, I can’t cope with my ‘grand-daughter’ girl friend. On her lips, Nakumatt is the order of the day…Cadillac is her middle name…and remember, my bones are cracking.

With this lightening speed, am out of the game and I have decided to switch houses and considering changing the Volvo’s number plates. I wouldn’t want to be caught in this web.  For sure generations have changed and are entirely different.

Ends