The Day I Encountered Bush Baby

Let me tell you a story.

This happened many years ago…

Iwas about 11 or 12 years old and in junior high school — Federal Government College, Ikot Ekpene in Akwa Ibom state. I was in the boarding house system of that great institution and it was the first time I would be leaving my parents’ abode.

One of the rules of the institution was to observe a 2-hour study time between 7 pm and 9 pm every night, Monday to Friday…. we called it ‘prep’. For some, prep was fun, because it took place in the classroom facilities of the school… which was a mile from the boarding facilities where the hostels, clinic and other facilities were located. So those unserious ones relished going for prep every night to play, gossip, sleep… whatever. For very serious students like me, I went to prep to study every night. I always went to prep with my school father, a lothario called Femi Fashanki.

So my story begins here…..

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The Black Dahlia

Have you heard the story of Elizabeth Short?
Many years ago, a lanky man walked into a house stealthily, under the cover of darkness. It was almost 2 am, the road was quiet but for leaves rustling on the breezy night. He left the jimmied door ajar as he entered the small house because he wanted his getaway to be swift. The floorboards creaked as he made his way towards the landing; he wasn’t sure if this had roused his prey sleeping upstairs.
The house was unassuming and sparsely furnished. There was a folded Californian style beach chair resting against a steep staircase. At the bottom of the stairs where he stood was a small table just beneath a cheap oil painting of a cottage beside a lake.
He stood at the same spot for a few minutes trying to adjust his eyes to the darkness in the room.

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Champagne Water

I sat up on the side of the 4-poster king-size bed and looked out the French doors which I left open all night. The white, silky-thin curtain arched gently inwards like a sail and I felt the gentle sea breeze that accompanied it caress my face.

After a while, my mind went to breakfast, and as soon as my feet found the black suede Versace bedroom slippers, I got up and stretched almightily… I roared loudly like the heavens was pulling my hands. Then I blessed the ocean-fresh air with a satisfying morning fart, it wasn’t silent, but I wasn’t bothered.

Talking about mornings, as I stretched I felt the wicked morning wood in my Hilfiger lounge pants – it made me imagine the damage woody could do to someone’s daughter. Unutilised wood is one helluva waste, isn’t it?  Read Full Article

The Unchosen Ones

Let me ask you a question . . .

There were 3 men , let’s say their names are Daniel, David and Ezekiel, yeah? Ok. They were born on the same day, same month, same year… same hour. They are 32 years old. These men live a perfectly healthy and spiritual life. As Christians, they pray regularly, attend church every Sunday, give to charity (in equal measure) and live as sin-free as possible. They follow Christ’s every rule, and God loves them, they are indeed the apple of his eyes.

Daniel, David and Ezekiel take good care of their homes and families…love their wives unconditionally, avoid temptation, both physically and spiritually.

These men never said a cross word to anybody, never raised a fist and always turned the other cheek.

Are you still reading along? Good!

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The Naija Slay Queen

Let me tell you a story…

A few years ago I was in Lagos trying to get the attention of one shiaman (chairman) to endorse or even invest in one of my ideas.

Having a sit-down with this guy was like cracking coconut with bare fists. While trying my hardest to catch the attention of this shiaman, I was introduced to this lady. One of those ones that you love to call ‘big girl’… the type that call themselves ‘slay queen’.

Apparently, she knew someone who was connected to this shiaman at the time. I’ll take what I get, I thought …. beggars can’t be choosers right? Fast forward to a few days later, we met at a popular Lagos Island hangout, my brother was also present. I was eager to meet Slay Queen.

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Thrombosis: The Silent Killer.

Thrombosis - The Silent Killer. Photo credit: WebMD
Thrombosis – The Silent Killer. Photo credit: WebMD

This article was inspired by a very personal experience! Old age is something, and considering I have family that have just started transitioning from the ‘young and vibrant’ category to what we can now call ‘elderly’, I’ve been forced to be more conversant with age-related sicknesses, even though Thrombosis isn’t age specific.

Recently, someone I know developed blood clots in his hand and leg, but it never hit home just how dangerous it could have been till I read up about the condition.  Blood Clots, or Thrombosis or Deep Vein Thrombosis is dangerous; extremely dangerous indeed. In some cases, sufferers of blood clots are not even aware till very late on, by that time it is fatal, often within an hour or less.

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Femi Otedola, One Of Africa’s Richest Men Rides Public Transport. So What?

This video has almost broken the internet. Femi Otedola earlier today posted a clip of himself in a commercial bus (Molue in Naija parlance) It’s got social media talking… Everyone with their own views…. what’s yours?
Is one of the richest men in Africa (and in the world) allowed to ride public transport, live his life and post on his Instagram account as he pleases?, or is this another publicity stunt riding on a motive? Is it appropriate? Is there anything wrong with the seeming humility the video portrays? Just curious to know your opinions. See video below.

Femi Otedola rides public transport

Femi Otedola rides public transport

 

This Kole Obasa

My Dear Nigerian Youths, I am very angry.

“My Dear Nigerian Youths”

I am very angry and that is why I am addressing you.

You are the source of my anger and I want to vent my spleen- maybe not at you directly- but at the arrogance of your ignorance.

You sit in front of a computer and rant all day through social media but with every click, you make money – not for yourself – but for Mark Zuckerberg (Facebook).

With every megabyte of data you spend complaining and maligning, you make stupendous bucks for Etisalat, Glo and Airtel.

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KEBBI’S RICE PYRAMID VS OREMEKUNU STOMACH INFRATSRUCTURE

Stomach infrastructure in Nigeria. (Photo Credit: Niger Reporters)

Stomach infrastructure in Nigeria. (Photo Credit: Niger Reporters)

Fayose became the Governor of Ekiti state in 2014 while Baguda became Governor of Kebbi state in 2015, while Baguda took N4bn to BOI, got counter funding and got 78,000 people cultivating rice (employment), my own governor Fayose took N4.7 to build the first flyover in Ekiti state, while the farmers in Kebbi have sold their rice to Lagos state (LAKE RICE) and have moved on to increasing their farm size, my Governor is still battling with how to complete the humongous project that won’t provide a single sustainable job.

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IS NIGERIA THE NEXT HAITI?

Nigeria, any hope? (Photo credit: The Guardian)

Nigeria, any hope? (Photo credit: The Guardian)

Haiti is the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere. Poverty pummels the Island country just as ferocious Hurricanes visit it from time to time with fury and the anger of a violated person. But few people know that the highest per capita income in the world in 1789 was not Britain, Germany or the United states. It was Haiti’s Plantation economy. As the Oil age looks clearly to be coming to a close, and clever countries have used savings from Oil to build future potential, it seems fair to wonder if Nigeria will be the next Haiti. The Tea Leaves, unless something dramatic happens, points to Nigeria travelling that sad highway. This reflection, frankly, and sadly, is a story of a personal recurring cry for a beloved country as the path to perdition has been persistently opted for. Can we save our country from being like Haiti, the economy that did not change, and literally died.

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