I will try to keep this short and sweet because it won’t be a pleasant experience expressing my utter disbelief at the realization that the man that I used to pretend was my father has turned out to be the big bad wolf.

A big shaggy, frightful predator masked under the disguise of a well-groomed, well-spoken, well-choreographed representative who operated under the name, Bill Cosby. It was just by lucky strokes that I became a disciple of The Cosby Show. Born in the United States but bred in Lagos, Nigeria, my mother worked for the Nigerian Television Authority, and her duty was to secure programming from around the world. She did a magnificent job, I can attest to that. From The Beachcombers to Fawlty Towers, my world expanded and blossomed accordingly.

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