Dear Dad,

Since you left us in 1963 a million things have happened. And you know most. You also know that my Notes To Daddy book on the military dictatorship years is maturing in its vault. Right now, the Internet makes it possible to share with you our secret conversations in open communication. By a combination of double genius and a deservedly loaded purse, I found the offerings of Google and Blogger the right tool. And signed.

I will blog (that's their term). I will audioblog (their vocab). And I would eventually mobileblog (their lexicon, I swear). This way, the guys are determined to keep us in touch. Such soulful conspirators! Oh, and they won't charge me a dime. Indeed, if our conversations make sense, Google AdSense will post ads to the site, and post cheques to me...when they sell!

Since Mama passed on in 1979, I had decided to keep most thoughts to myself...except in some of my poems. Not anymore! From this platform, you will both hear from me.

In consonance with your known community spirit and giving, I shall also be conversing with dads and moms of the world...around the world.

Both for you up there and us right here, this experience won't be funny at all. It will have its sweet and sour bumps, but we will endure and preserve the good for all. We are now in a Global Village that lacks a village square! Yet it is great being around, contending and reporting. Yes.

Parting shot: Pray for Nigeria. It is giving Africa and our friends goose pimples, right now! See you soon. No, tomorrow!

Dayo