As some of you may know, my name isn’t really Chad, it’s Oliver. People often wonder how a humble little child-sponsoring super-genius got such a nickname. Well I’ll tell you.
I was thirteen years old with abnormally large and tanned biceps, playing a game of basketball with my mates when a bright red Lamborghini pulled up at the court (I knew it wasn’t mine as I had parked mine at the local mechanics that day). Just as I was dunking on this puny 7’2″ dwarf of a man, the owner of the car ran over and told me Africa needs my help again, so I quickly made my way over there via private jet.
Upon arrival I rallied up some troops and we spent six months digging huge trenches around an old village as there was a not-very-typical-of-Africa flood on its way. Thanks to my initiative of digging at twice the speed of the body builders around me by using two spades at the same time, the job was completed just in the knick of time. After the flood, one of the young children from the village shyly approached me and told me they had decided to give me the African name of Kwazula Luhp, which directly translated to: Caring, Honest, Admirable and Dapper, or C.H.A.D for short.
By the time I got home my deeds were already plastered all over the news and by the end of the week, even the Queen of England was calling me Chad just before she knighted me, twice. I’ve kept the name as a reminder that there are still countless battles to be won and lives to be saved. So there you have it: Chad Munro, modest yet really attractive to all girls especially the hot ones.
Written by Chad Munro 21/09/16