By the following year, I was sure. I wanted to marry her. When I visited her family for the first time, they were excited, though I could also sense a bit of surprise. Her grandmother had been counting down the days to meet the young engineer marrying her granddaughter. As soon as I walked in, I caught the look on her face. With genuine amazement, she said, “Ei! So you’re the engineer we’ve been hearing about? This small boy is the one coming to marry my granddaughter?” Apparently, the title “engineer” had stirred up some lofty expectations, someone older, taller, maybe with greying hair, a deep voice, and a serious briefcase in hand. Clearly, I did not match the mental picture they had painted. The Birthday Journal 13
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