My Dear Ladies,
I hope this letter finds each of you in excellent health, high spirits, and still capable of recognizing my handwriting.
After careful consultation with my heart, my brain, and the Ministry of Common Sense, I have reached a unanimous decision. Things cannot continue as they used to. Please don't panic—this is not a breakup letter. It is simply an announcement of our new relationship policy.
Since the last time we met, I have observed through reliable intelligence (also known as social media, mutual friends, and your own status updates) that some of you have been faithfully attending nightlife clubs, enthusiastically supporting Mugithi festivals, dancing wherever loud music is available, and generally enjoying life to the fullest. I applaud your energy. However, viruses and bacteria are also known to enjoy lively social gatherings.
Therefore, before any future romantic meetings are approved, we shall all report—together—for HIV, gonorrhea, and syphilis testing. Think of it as renewing a driver's license before getting back on the highway. Safety first, romance second.
Please understand that this policy is not based on suspicion. It is based on wisdom. Trust is wonderful, but laboratory results are wonderfully specific. Love may be blind, but medical tests have excellent eyesight.
I have also volunteered myself for the same tests because responsibility is a two-way street. It would be rather unfair for me to demand certificates from everyone else while presenting nothing more than confidence and a charming smile. We shall all arrive at the clinic together, leave together, and let science settle the matter.
If anyone is wondering whether this new regulation is negotiable, I regret to inform you that the committee has already met, the minutes have been signed, and the resolution has been passed unanimously by the only voting member—me.
Let us normalize something important: getting tested is not an admission of guilt. It is an act of maturity. Just as we service our cars before long journeys and check our phones for updates, we should also check our health. A few minutes at the clinic can save years of unnecessary suffering and protect not only ourselves but also the people we care about.
So, my dear ladies, if you truly wish to retain your cherished membership in the prestigious Association of My Potential Sweethearts, kindly prepare for our first official date at the testing center. After all, the most attractive quality in a partner is not just beauty, fashion, or dance moves—it is good health and responsible choices.
I look forward to your cheerful cooperation. May your response be as positive as your attitude, and may your test results be delightfully negative.
With love, laughter, and a healthy dose of wisdom,
Yours faithfully,
The Chairman of the "No Results, No Romance" Committee.
I hope this letter finds each of you in excellent health, high spirits, and still capable of recognizing my handwriting.
After careful consultation with my heart, my brain, and the Ministry of Common Sense, I have reached a unanimous decision. Things cannot continue as they used to. Please don't panic—this is not a breakup letter. It is simply an announcement of our new relationship policy.
Since the last time we met, I have observed through reliable intelligence (also known as social media, mutual friends, and your own status updates) that some of you have been faithfully attending nightlife clubs, enthusiastically supporting Mugithi festivals, dancing wherever loud music is available, and generally enjoying life to the fullest. I applaud your energy. However, viruses and bacteria are also known to enjoy lively social gatherings.
Therefore, before any future romantic meetings are approved, we shall all report—together—for HIV, gonorrhea, and syphilis testing. Think of it as renewing a driver's license before getting back on the highway. Safety first, romance second.
Please understand that this policy is not based on suspicion. It is based on wisdom. Trust is wonderful, but laboratory results are wonderfully specific. Love may be blind, but medical tests have excellent eyesight.
I have also volunteered myself for the same tests because responsibility is a two-way street. It would be rather unfair for me to demand certificates from everyone else while presenting nothing more than confidence and a charming smile. We shall all arrive at the clinic together, leave together, and let science settle the matter.
If anyone is wondering whether this new regulation is negotiable, I regret to inform you that the committee has already met, the minutes have been signed, and the resolution has been passed unanimously by the only voting member—me.
Let us normalize something important: getting tested is not an admission of guilt. It is an act of maturity. Just as we service our cars before long journeys and check our phones for updates, we should also check our health. A few minutes at the clinic can save years of unnecessary suffering and protect not only ourselves but also the people we care about.
So, my dear ladies, if you truly wish to retain your cherished membership in the prestigious Association of My Potential Sweethearts, kindly prepare for our first official date at the testing center. After all, the most attractive quality in a partner is not just beauty, fashion, or dance moves—it is good health and responsible choices.
I look forward to your cheerful cooperation. May your response be as positive as your attitude, and may your test results be delightfully negative.
With love, laughter, and a healthy dose of wisdom,
Yours faithfully,
The Chairman of the "No Results, No Romance" Committee.
