About this book
I honestly planned my life. I really did. By thirty, I was supposed to be a published author already. I was supposed to be settled in my home, sharing my bed with my dream husband. By thirty, I was supposed to be pregnant, or perhaps, even closer to childbirth already. I was supposed to be a Mrs, and definitely not someone else's bridesmaid.. As I speak to you right now, there's only a few months left to my thirtieth birthday. And sadly, all I can boast of is a dinky apartment somewhere around Lagos. I sleep disturbingly alone in my bed, with several unpublished books littered on my old, dusty rug. I'm almost thirty, with nothing to show for it.