By: John S Morlu II, CPA
“Stupid ass me.”
I met and hired a lawyer to help me open an office in a developing country. After a lot of back-and-forth on corporate structure, she inboxed me and said, “Why don’t you call me pet names?”
Stupid me asked, “What do you mean?” Because in my head, pet names were literally for pets. My dogs were called Rathy Marley and Bob Marley.
She went quiet.
Honestly, I didn’t know what “pet names” were. So I went straight to chatgpt.com, and it defined it—then basically added, “You are a clean guy. Stay off such names.”
But stubbornness is real.
I WhatsApped my potential lawyer and asked, “So what pet name should I call you?” And she instantly responded: “My love” or “darling.” Huh. Never done that, and I will not do it.
So now I got a male lawyer—and I pray he too doesn’t start this pet-name business.
What’s wrong with developing countries and this pet-name business?
And now, the expanded universe:
The Moment Everything Started Going Wrong
In my mind, I genuinely believed I was engaging a professional. A lawyer. An attorney-at-law. A barrister, solicitor, advocate, counselor—the whole nine legal yards. Someone who quotes statutes, not Shakespeare.
I was ready for:
- “Section 18(b) requires…”
- “The articles of incorporation must…”
- “Shareholder resolutions will need signatures…”
Instead I got: “Why don’t you call me pet names?”
This is when my spirit quietly packed its things and walked out the door.
Most people would recognize this as a flirt cue. Not me. Not stupid ass me. My brain reset like a radio after a power surge.
Because in my world, pet names are for actual pets. Dogs. Cats. Occasionally goats (if you grew up in certain West African villages where everything is a pet until Christmas).
So naturally, I responded with academic sincerity: “My dogs were called Rathy Marley and Bob Marley.”
In my innocent mind, that was a helpful clarification. In her mind, I had just compared her to two Labradors with reggae accents.
Her Silence Was Loud
Not normal silence. Not “I’m thinking” silence. But the type of silence where even your ancestors whisper: “My son… you messed up.”
This wasn’t just awkward silence. This was continental disappointment silence—the kind of silence that makes your phone feel heavier.
The ChatGPT Rescue Mission
Honestly, I didn’t know what “pet names” were. So I went straight to chatgpt.com, and it defined it—then basically added, “You are a clean guy, stay off such names.”
ChatGPT didn’t just define it. It gave moral guidance. GPT said it like an old, wise grandfather: “My child, leave this thing. This is not your path.”
Fun fact: In 2025, Google is for facts. ChatGPT is for survival.
Because only AI can explain:
- Advanced mathematics
- Nuclear physics
- And the cryptic romance practices of developing countries—with equal calmness.
But Stubbornness Is a Cultural Inheritance
However, stubbornness won. I WhatsApped my potential lawyer and asked, “So what pet name should I call you?”
This is where stupidity turned into adventure. Because I knew better. I had been warned. AI had spoken. Heaven had sent signs.
But the same stubborn DNA that built pyramids and started empires said: “Ask her.”
And I asked.
Immediately—faster than MTN drops a call—she replied: “My love” or “darling.”
No hesitation. No loading. No buffering. No “LOL.” No “haha.” She had the names ready like she wrote them in her diary the night before.
My soul left my body for a moment.
The Cultural Breakdown
In developing countries, “pet names” are a whole economy. A GDP contributor. A GDP stabilizer even.
They are used everywhere:
- Business
- Government
- Education
- Public transportation
- Marketplaces
- Hospitals
- Even funerals
Someone could be giving you bad news and still call you “sweetheart.”
Examples
- Lawyer: “My love, your incorporation fee has increased.”
- Mechanic: “Baby, your gearbox is finished.”
- Doctor: “Darling, you need to stop drinking.”
- Immigration officer: “Sweetie, come back tomorrow.”
- Taxi driver: “Bossman, my chief, papa, my guy.”
The whole society runs on romance fuel.
Never Done That and I Will Not Do It
There is something profoundly spiritual about realizing your limit.
And mine is this: I will NOT call my lawyer “my love.”
The speed I would run from that situation would qualify me for the Olympic 100m finals.
I am a clean guy. A professional guy. A “let’s focus on the contract” guy. A “please attach the PDF” guy.
Not a “darling, will you send the invoice?” guy.
Never done that and I will not do it.
The Male Lawyer Solution
So now I got a male lawyer—and I pray he too doesn’t start this pet-name business.
This is the funniest part. Because developing countries operate on randomized energy.
You think: “A man will keep it professional.”
But developing countries say: “Hold my beer.”
Next thing you know, he might message:
“Good morning bossman 😊❤️”
or
“Hey my guy, hope your day sweet small.”
At this point, even masculinity cannot be trusted.
The Final Question: What’s Wrong With Developing Countries and Pet-Name Business?
Answer: Everything. And nothing. Simultaneously.
It’s cultural seasoning. It’s inherited chaos. It’s social lubrication. It’s relational marketing. It’s psychological warfare disguised as affection. It’s unprofessional professionalism. It’s customer service with emotional garnish. It’s love-language inflation.
And it’s everywhere.
Author: John S. Morlu II, CPA is the CEO and Chief Strategist of JS Morlu, leads a globally recognized public accounting and management consultancy firm. Under his visionary leadership, JS Morlu has become a pioneer in developing cutting-edge technologies across B2B, B2C, P2P, and B2G verticals. The firm’s groundbreaking innovations include AI-powered reconciliation software (ReckSoft.com), Uber for handymen (Fixaars.com) and advanced cloud accounting solutions (FinovatePro.com), setting new industry standards for efficiency, accuracy, and technological excellence.