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Hey Stranger

I.
And as the school time-keeper rang the bell at 2:00pm, the students trooped out, shouting happily for it was time to go home, some other teachers in the staff room shared this same excitement, shuffling and calling on their wards, urging them to hurry up but I shared none of this excitement or joy for there was nobody at home to go to, I had electricity here in school, I had my phone, that was all I need, that’s all I’ll need. Moreover, I had just conducted a test, it provided the perfect opportunity and excuse for staying back, to mark and record the scores of individual students while passing time… Continue reading Hey Stranger

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NYSC: Day 1

Pick a date…
Take your time but,
Don’t be late.

It was under the hell-preparing, scorching Abuja sun that my retina first registered the image, we both were Otondos with no idea of what the following 3 weeks had in store for us.
You, standing 9 spaces to my front, never had I seen an ass so curvaceous like that packed in the 3 1/4 Denim jeans, perhaps not on a tall slim figure like yours made more attractive by the light skin tone visible from the exposed arms on whose shoulders the armless Denim jacket hung lightly and ever so delicately. The ass, my captor, well exaggerated by the hips giving the subject of discussion a perfect appearance, like blue waters below the blue mountains of the Himalayas.
Continue reading NYSC: Day 1

Call Me, Maybe.

Hi guys, it’s been a while, I’m so sorry for drifting off… here’s a submission from my very good friend and brother, Enjoy.

Jennifer, -Jenny baby- as she likes to be Jennifer, -Jenny baby- as she likes to be referred to in the company of her friends due to her almost atomic resemblance to the Nollywood superstar Genevieve Nnaji is a pretty young lady who stays in the suburbs of Lagos, quite the charmer she is, also the ticket to free rides and most often times free meal whenever they visit the restaurant with her “girl on fire” flair and her cat like greyish eyes. 
Her British accent would often times get her in trouble with female lecturers who deem her fake but was the centre of attention with the male lecturers she solely regards to as Agbaya of the school. Extremely corny she was as she escaped their advances and resultant wrath with relative ease and creativity. Always thinking of ways to come up with new lines and escape phrases, she was quite an escape artiste of her own. Reverse was the case here for her as she sat uncomfortably and uncontrollably restless in the bus feverently trying to call a number on her phone. Murmuring “pick up Tunde! pick up, Please pick up!” with the seriousness and relentless attitude of an aboki trying to sell bush meat on the express during the ebola outbreak.
“Next bus stop” she said as she sat in a weirdly scanty molue, it was just after office resumption hours and the third mainland bridge remained free of traffic. Again, “O wa o” was what came out of her mouth, her face lightened up (Tunde had taken her call) as she stretched 1000 naira to the conductor, alighted and walked away in delight quite oblivious she just broke the Guinness book of record being the first Nigerian to forget nine hundred Naira change.
“Tunde, Good gracious!, I must have called you for about 50 times or more.  Have you picked up the suit and my gown from the dry cleaner?, Meet me at my place before 7pm. I’m on my way home from the bodyshop. Bye”     she walked away with the swagger of a runway model still oblivious to the world record she broke like 105seconds ago.
6:55pm
Jennifer rushed to the door, water splattering and her sexy leg moving lankily all over the tiled floor all the way from the bath tub to let Tunde in.  She had promised him she would explain what she needed him for immediately he got over and she made good on her promise by getting right down to it before he could get down with the “Was’sup” he had on his tongue.
“Okay Tunde I need you as a double to my date tonight… It’s an open bar of 5 star drinks”
Tunde was going to say no but the last part of the sentence was too good to turn down. “What’s the catch?” was all he could muster. Jenny baby had gone extreme length to get invited to the fundraiser using her dad’s connections so as to make herself noticeable to her long standing crush. She felt she stood a chance but she brought in reinforcements from body shop for her face, the gown and her favourite red bottom heels to complement the face. She only needed Tunde to get through as it was a double up invite party.

8:55pm

After several advances all night from a distance, it was time for her crush, the CEO of Globules Entertainment popularly called Uncle Larry to make his move at the hottest girl in d ball room.  He reached into his breast pocket, pulled out a pen and made some sort of inscription on his contact card after which he strolled with utter class towards her, Jenny could swear she had frozen to a standstill as she was moments away from masterminding the biggest plan of her life. Almost in slo-mo he walked towards her as he stretched his contact card to Tunde right behind her who was getting wasted at the bar saying “here’s my number, call me maybe” and strolled off yet majestically.

Submitted by Olajide Ajayi. @Jidoolegend

Guys, please comment on the flaws and high points of the post, he’s a budding writer. Thanks.

(I don’t know what to Title this).

It was about 2:00am, today being quite not so different from just other days, he had checked up on his test score, an aptitude test, international test, and he had emerged the best in his continent, which meant he, with some other lucky few, about 6 of them in all will have the scholarship. But it was only guaranteed a half tuition scholarship until the final battle when the first and second from the six emerging baby-champions will be granted a full scholarship and prize money.

All his friends had either travelled or went back to school, the remaining were in distant lands serving their fatherland, he had gone through the ritual of informing all that knew of the test about his success -they were about a handful of people-, so much love from them all, his mother’s voice over the phone resounded in his head for some hours as he gallivanted around his one bedroom apartment, jumping from one part to the other, he was totally overjoyed. What best to seal this great news than to go out and “Turn it up”, but his friends weren’t around, he thought and pondered for a while then decided to go it solo, it has never harmed a man to walk his path alone after all we all were born “solo”, he laughed at his own philosophical mind and the gibberish it just spewed forth, it must have been his over-joyous state that had caused it, he didn’t mind, didn’t chastice or chide himself like he would have done on other days, today is a different day. 

He had made it to the second club for the night, had his fair share of drinks and dance, got a couple of phone numbers from the ladies on the dance floor, starting to feel a little tipsy, he made way to his car in the lot, a Toyota Solara Modelled car, and straight to another club, he was going to break his personal  record of three clubs a night by attending four today. It was a good night for him.

As he sauntered into the fourth clubhouse, he met with a couple of old friends who had lost contact with him for a while, a long while and it was quite and easy task catching up and bringing one another up to speed on matters arising in individual lives, well the best of the stories were shared and it mostly sounded like bragging about achievements made over the others, a subtle competition to decide who had lived the best life so far… he didn’t do bad in the reports and wasn’t the best either but as things were going smoothly for him and with the good news in pocket from earlier in the day, there was nothing that was going to spoil his mood, not even after he found his car tire had been deflated, quite unexplainable but he tagged team with one of his friends, the safest of them in terms of driving who wasn’t drunk or apparently was better at composure while drunk… loud music and gyrations in the car as they blasted one of the Old 90s music Album while they drove through the lonely roads of the night. With the cold breeze hitting their face through the wound-low side windows of the sport car, they fired through into the night at a reasonable speed first, then, gradually at a breakneck speed. Unusual, but with alcohol of various kinds and brands in the system… 

He smiled, that was one of the millions of thoughts that could get him through and laughing as this was one of the most hated moments of his life, meeting one on one with his boss who seemed to enjoy torturing him daily with ginger-garlic mixed with rotten teeth combination of smell, he wondered the torture his boss’wife and children go through on the daily, he smiled yet again, his boss must have thought the joke he just cracked was that funny, if only his boss knew what was on his mind… then an excerpt of I. Ighoni Barrett’s book “Love Is Power or Something Like That” flashed through his mind, that was his favourite part, it was about a man who had a bloody mouth odour in a BRT bus… 

” So, I shouted at the conductor, See, the woman I was sitting near, she’s in front!”
As soon as I opened my mouth, everybody else closed their mouth. Even though BRT bus is long –  with forty-nine passengers, I did not know that before – yet in the front, people were making foon-foon sound and covering their nose. The conductor squeezed his face like I have killed his mother, then he released my hand and ran to the front, and the bus started to move. 

So therefore, the whole long journey I have been standing and taking advice from everybody about my smelling mouth problem. It wasn’t easy o,  forty-nine people against only me. Those people, they nearly killed me with advice, I swear to God. And anytime that I want to explain, they will just be shouting that I should shut up.  Anyhow, to cut short the long story, by the time I reached my bus stop they have analysed the whole of my life  and they have told me all the things that are causing my smelling mouth problem…”

He laughed harder as his boss gently slid a letter through the other end of his table…

He opened it and laughed a lot harder, the son of a Bitch just fired him.

Promise Made

A beautiful Saturday morning it is, several women chirping and muttering inaudibly and the men exchanging pleasantries as the last of them settled down, faces looking radiant, women looking ravishing and inviting, all thanks to the make-up artiste and the brilliant make-over materials – if only they could all look this flawless every single minute and hour of the day-, eager anticipation on almost everyone’s face as the pianist struck the first cord, the sound made me shiver from within, cold shrills went through my spine, I could feel my skin ravaged with goose bumps, apparently the sound was a cue as two figures emerged at the entrance of the rather long aisle.

It was 10:26am the last time I glanced at my 24karat Gold plated Hubolt timepiece, something I must have done a million and one times since entering this sacred place of worship, the church where the wedding is supposed to take place. I’m particularly not the nervous type but today is quite different, understandably you presume it’s because of my wedding, a big step into the future unseen but then, you couldn’t be more wrong.

I watched impatiently the two figures partially silhouetted by the distance and the lightning, my wife and father-in-law to-be walk the aisle inching closer to me with every step which resonated in my ear, I couldn’t but wish something would strike him down at this moment, better still, she, miss her graceful and well-mannered step in a clumsy atmosphere of the superfluous fine garment, her wedding dress and fall face flat preferably, breaking a bone or hurting her ankle will be to my utmost delight. See, they both haven’t wronged me in the slightest way, if anything, they’ve been the best set of people anybody could wish to associate with, but I’m not just anybody, all I want is to get out of this sanctuary. You ask why? A quick glance at my watch, 10:28 am, two full minutes like eternity, I hate this!.

I had spent my bachelor’s eve with a woman, –another woman-, at least a man is allowed one last shot at the goodies of this world before he’s eternally chained in the dungeon of faithfulness and responsibility to the one he’s vowed to by the very words of his own mouth, a promise as you may have it. This woman was particularly different, there was something about the way her chest heaved up and down as she inhaled and exhaled, the sight was calming at first then she’d suddenly but slowly grabbed her tummy, opened her eyes rather sharply and had ordered me to call her an ambulance, in 30 minutes we were in the hospital, I didn’t mind staying with her till day break, leaving with a promise to be back soon, very soon. The doctors were to call me immediately there was a new development and with this assurance I left.

Here I am, face to face with my wife-to-be having made her way safely to the altar against every of my wish and her father, retreating safely to the front pew, she said her vows and inserted a ring onto my finger, halfway into my vows, the phone vibrated in my left breast pocket once again, it had to be about the 5th time, that was my cue as I hurried through the vows, placed yet another ring on her engagement finger and dashed off like a mad man who’s found the light all the while thinking, Why did it have to be today?

Excuse my ill manners for I was taught better, I am a man of my words who will go to any length to fulfil any promises made and today is My Wedding day. If you’re reading this, you’re exactly where I want you to be, in my Head, and in real-time.

I am a free minded man of many will and passion, you ask why I rushed out of my wedding proceedings? My second wife is at delivery, the third marriage is finalized, I need to fulfil my promise.

Hi, my name is Tom and my paramount will is to marry every beautiful single lady I come across and sire their first child with a promise to be at each and every of their delivery room.

Untitled (I wanted to title it Love Story sha…)

The Non Fiction Blog

This kini is impurely fiction, any resemblance to any persons, organisations, or whatsoever, might have been intended but take some comfort in knowing the person who published it doesn’t care about your reaction so… Meh.
Long ass story about something that probably happened.
Dictated, not read.
Management

“Yo! Hey Wassup?”
“dude, I’m fine, how’s it with you?”
“I’m good I’m good. You at home now?”
“yeah, what?”
“remember when I told you I wanted to get the Z30?”
“yeah…”
“well, guess who’s got a Z30?!”
“Errrrr… Is the person really famous?”
“ode. Me”
“oh. yeah you. Are you famous?”
“I’m sha coming over hope your PS is working?”
“yeah. Sure.”
“and your sister? Is she around?”
“*dial tone…*”
“what a scumbag. Like he wants to marry his sister…”

Well, that’s where the phone conversation ended that day. A couple of hours later he was about 15mins away from his house…

View original post 1,548 more words

Roses & Thorns

Hi, this is a short one… Can’t say it is a Rant, can’t say it isn’t.

—————– —————— ——————–

I’m Nigerian, I’m proud of it, any day, any hour, well, you know what’s next, every darn time. But as much as I love this country and its inhabitants, I’ll love to see it climb to greater heights, I guess that’s what everybody with the love of this nation wants right?…

Nigerians are blessed with brains, but situations around has helped most people channel it towards more evil than good, take note, evil here is subjective as it is actually good to the innovators…Uncle Shege, 2014.

Take for example, an average bike/okada man in his bid to cunningly get intimate with almost, if not all of his female customers raises his motorcycle seat at an angle that favours the rubbing of the female customer’s mammary glands however big or small against him. See, free back massage and they get paid after getting it too.
But nowadays with most of our ladies spotting full blown 5-8 months pregnancy-like tummy, oh well, that’s a topic for another day…

The funniest to me of recent has to be the robbery case that happened around where I stay, I couldn’t stop laughing when I heard someone re-count the story.

Here goes:

Imagine someone shows up naked in your compound, obviously, he/she (-most likely a he-) had scaled your fence through, then sets to work. Who comes to rob another person’s house naked right?… But here’s the icing on the cake; He’s covered in oil, which is a genius way to facilitate his escape to him obviously.

I mean, you’ll chase this guy to a point and just when you feel he’s at arms length… Pssssss… He slides like an iPhone lock away from you… Genius isn’t it?.

No dummy, I’m referring to my iPhone joke.

Yeah, that’s what I thought too…

ESCAPE

This is a rant, it doesn’t necessarily have a point but then, there’s “Sense” in “Nonsense”, so, you might actually gain something or not…

I’ve always wondered why humans dream, why humans die, and the whole essence of life… Pause, before you continue, please and please, place your religious views on a total lockdown, and approach this pragmatically, tactically and with the most sincere sense of objectivity, if you can’t do such, kindly stop reading this piece as it isn’t for you. Thank you… Continue reading ESCAPE

The Cold Heart

Each day my heart grows fonder, lazier
Lazier to embrace the feeling such as love
Love? For it beats only to pump blood otherwise, cold
Cold because it had once been warm
Warm from the feeling of a sensation so deep it’s indescribable…

But now all that is left of it is a memory,
Like a big fire that dies gradually in flames,
A big fire that’s steadily replaced by ash,
A feeling so intense the heart put its selfishness aside,
Ignores its body and put another before its…
A feeling so strong that ended up in ashes.

All it does is to lazy around like garfield,
Thumping and pumping as a regular exercise to keep fit
Keep fit from dying off… But still as cold as a morgue
This heat of memory lessens as the hour ticks by
All I have is a memory, not strong enough to warm the heart
It therefore stays cold, thumping and pumping.

The Diary

The Diary

As Tunde Falomo picked everything that remained on the road after the accident, he came across a phone, a diary and some other things, they belonged to the guy who had just been rushed to the hospital, chances are he wouldn’t make it but people encouraged eachother to keep the hope. The phone had managed to stay intact, the laptop bag though thrown some distance away from the scene due to the force with which the vehicle hit its owner had sustained no visible damage too. It all seemed like only the owner of these gadgets took the literal fall for everything. Continue reading The Diary