With the same sword they knight you, they gon' good night you with
Shit, that's only half if they like you
That ain't even the half what they might do
Don't believe me, ask Michael
See Martin, see Malcolm
See Biggie, see Pac, see success and its outcome
See Jesus, see Judas
See Caesar, see Brutus, see success is like suicide
Suicide, it's a suicide
If you succeed, prepare to be crucified
Media meddles, niggaz sue you, you settle
Every step you take, they remind you you're ghetto
So it's tough being Bobby Brown
To be Bobby then, you have to be Bobby now
And the question is, "Is to have had and lost
Better than not having at all?"
Jay-z/ LOST remix
Everyone hope for a greener pasture, we live everyday with the notion there's something better than where we are. If there actually was, only a few find out. Others have to cope [thank God for religion than makes broke people content with being broke]. Like the saying goes "no condition is permanent [either good or bad]". So what happens when you have had and lost and is it better than not having in the first place?
I live in a world of dreamers who are desperate to make it. A lot are into repatriation [I mean yahoo], getting back what the Western world stole from us. Others go for the legit way. Fact is not everyone make it. I have a friend with over five years yahoo working experience [and counting] and not one hit. This guy is not even showing any sign of giving up soon. The tragic part is this guy bought a phone with his own legit cash recently and claimed it was a maga that sent him the money. The comforting thing about the guy's situation [and he doesn't know] is that no one expects anything from him cause no one ever looked up to him. No one is praying for him to fail.
The story is different with someone who has had it all, someone like Mike Tyson [only for a woman to knock him out of his wealth]. I have families around me that at one point they were in affluence, but now they travel to their villages for christmas and lie they were abroad. Even their parents contribute to the cover-up. I'm guessing the shame one experiences makes the fall hurt more than the fall. One of them ended up being tenants in their own house.
I introspected about the options, will I be better as a 'once had' or 'never had'? I'll go for being a 'once had' than never taste what I longed for. Henry Ford once said "I made my fortune when I had nothing to start with, by myself and my own ideas...If I lose everything...I will start at the beginning and build it up again." So even if I lose it all, I'm certain of making it again. The climb up would no doubt be easier if you remembered those that helped you get there, you'll have to look up to those you looked down on. However, the truth about life is only a few people [if any] would want your success to exceed theirs. The fall of most great men were caused by people whose status was not on par with theirs. That is when success becomes scary and you need to put on your Haterz Stunnerz Shade. So I want you to think about it, what do you prefer?
Everyone have their experiences and what we do with it is totally up to us. Some store it secrets others share it with friends and turn it into laughs or life lessons. I've found what to with mine- write them as stories and give it to the world...these are my stories of the [year]
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Someone's Daughter... My Daughter
One of my fears in life was having a daughter. The origin of this fear lies in the way guys around me have treated girls, also with way I have acted towards girls. However, much of the credit would have to go to the girls themselves. I've met girls that after interacting with them my thought goes 'is there any dumber specie?'. They play their cards with the notion that they know what guys got up their sleeves and in the end, Royal Flush. That's when the update their Facebook status with anything nasty about guys [but what was the point of saying shit stinks?].
I had always placed the opposite sex highly but it became difficult as a teen [the period they get nasty]. It felt like I was placing their p... on a pedestal. The trick was now to become creative to get their attention and fortunately creativity is closely related to being romantic. In other words, we creative guys were the romantic ones. Anyway, guys are forced to keep reinventing creative formats to get girls. There was a time 'apple of my eye, sugar in my tea' did the trick' but now it's more of self packaging. Girls are not interested if they are the apple of your eye as long as you look good by their side. Truth is even my opinion is debatable. But what have I seen or done that made me hope not to have a daughter?
I saw this girl with a friend at a party. I had heard about her from the same friend and her ways [which obviously was not pure]. She was fond of running away from home only to end up in a guy's bed. It wouldn't have been a big deal [leaving home] but she was barely 18, beautiful, and gave little regard for herself. It would have been easy for any guy to 'Ella her' [Read 'Who Knows Ella?']. Anyway, back to the party, she was bloody wasted that she passed out. Staying true to what I had heard about her, in less than fifteen minutes later she was back on her feet. I saw her staggering with a bottle of wine in her hand. She was holding the bottle proudly like a wrestler that just won a 2-hour Royal Rumble. You could see guys in the background waiting for the perfect opportunity to have their way with her. The last time I saw her that day [before day break] was her lying flat on a guy's bonnet with her limbs spread across the continents. I had no remorse but what if she was my daughter? There were times I felt like taking matters into my hands and slapping the sense into girls but that would be described as going too far. My defence would be 'it takes a community to raise a child, especially girls'. One of those instances was with one of my guys. He was talking with a girl he knew- she was short, dark, fat, and...[you guessed right] UGLY. She kept pacing in front of my friend saying, "I'm hungry, I need to make some pu$@¥ money". If I had slapped her I had no doubt her parents would take any action against me.
Like I said earlier the notion girls have about knowing what guys want or after has no relationship with stopping it. Sure you know the aim but you never know how a guy intend to get there. To be honest I don't think I can teach 'my daughter' all the skills required to be one step ahead of guys [especially a guy like me]. These skills were ever evolving and I know there would be a time my knowledge might be obsolete and I wouldn't want 'her' to shed a tear for a guy. True I have met girls that made me see the wonderful side of having daughters. They are few but isn't that what makes anything precious- the scarcity. They include the Shirleyannes and the Ogos. Maybe I'll leave it up to faith and in the future if you ever see a girl walking down the streets in a cage with a caption saying 'Guys Beware' just know that is my daughter.
I had always placed the opposite sex highly but it became difficult as a teen [the period they get nasty]. It felt like I was placing their p... on a pedestal. The trick was now to become creative to get their attention and fortunately creativity is closely related to being romantic. In other words, we creative guys were the romantic ones. Anyway, guys are forced to keep reinventing creative formats to get girls. There was a time 'apple of my eye, sugar in my tea' did the trick' but now it's more of self packaging. Girls are not interested if they are the apple of your eye as long as you look good by their side. Truth is even my opinion is debatable. But what have I seen or done that made me hope not to have a daughter?
I saw this girl with a friend at a party. I had heard about her from the same friend and her ways [which obviously was not pure]. She was fond of running away from home only to end up in a guy's bed. It wouldn't have been a big deal [leaving home] but she was barely 18, beautiful, and gave little regard for herself. It would have been easy for any guy to 'Ella her' [Read 'Who Knows Ella?']. Anyway, back to the party, she was bloody wasted that she passed out. Staying true to what I had heard about her, in less than fifteen minutes later she was back on her feet. I saw her staggering with a bottle of wine in her hand. She was holding the bottle proudly like a wrestler that just won a 2-hour Royal Rumble. You could see guys in the background waiting for the perfect opportunity to have their way with her. The last time I saw her that day [before day break] was her lying flat on a guy's bonnet with her limbs spread across the continents. I had no remorse but what if she was my daughter? There were times I felt like taking matters into my hands and slapping the sense into girls but that would be described as going too far. My defence would be 'it takes a community to raise a child, especially girls'. One of those instances was with one of my guys. He was talking with a girl he knew- she was short, dark, fat, and...[you guessed right] UGLY. She kept pacing in front of my friend saying, "I'm hungry, I need to make some pu$@¥ money". If I had slapped her I had no doubt her parents would take any action against me.
Like I said earlier the notion girls have about knowing what guys want or after has no relationship with stopping it. Sure you know the aim but you never know how a guy intend to get there. To be honest I don't think I can teach 'my daughter' all the skills required to be one step ahead of guys [especially a guy like me]. These skills were ever evolving and I know there would be a time my knowledge might be obsolete and I wouldn't want 'her' to shed a tear for a guy. True I have met girls that made me see the wonderful side of having daughters. They are few but isn't that what makes anything precious- the scarcity. They include the Shirleyannes and the Ogos. Maybe I'll leave it up to faith and in the future if you ever see a girl walking down the streets in a cage with a caption saying 'Guys Beware' just know that is my daughter.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Thief Na Thief
I hate stealing. Everything about that act disgusts me. I prefer someone to be regarded as dirty than a thief. I'll not deceive myself and claim I've never stolen in my life but that was when I was younger. When my Id was much stronger and my conscience was not fully developed. It won't be correct to say my conscience now prevents me from stealing. Now, it's about personal principles. Stealing is like an oil stain on my white shirt, that would make me uncomfortable. But why do people steal?
There are a myriad reasons people steal. A lot of people are likely to state casual effects that are usually out of a person's control. Such reasons include poor family background/training and negative peer relations but I don't believe in such. Everyman should be held accountable for his/her actions. Nobody should be blamed or labelled responsible for another man's action. If you steal then it was because you wanted to and this reason holds true regardless of social status/class. There are many ways an individual can achieve a goal or fulfil a need, some settle for the hard work route while others settle for the easy way out which includes stealing. This is because stealing is not an end in itself but a means to an end [a way of achieving your goal]. A quick illustration, you want a car because you want to increase your status. You can either work to raise the money or steal it. Stealing won't give you gratification [you might actually feel bad] but the car would make you fulfilled [You don't feel bad with what you get from stealing but how you got it]. But I'll have to be honest, some have psychological disorders resulting to a compulsive act to steal. These are the kleptomaniacs, not my problem
The annoying part to me is when a suspect denies stealing. It's even more annoying when the person wasn't just a suspect but the culprit as well. An event occurred January 2011, I was with someone who recently returned to Nigeria after years in the UK. She was sharing a room with one other friend who was based in Nigeria. On a Sunday, less than a week after her arrival, she decided to rearrange the wardrobes she shared with the other girl. The other girl was not around [she went to church] so she had to do it all by herself while I stayed in the background gisting. As she was moving the other girl's stuff from one wardrobe to another she saw two panty liners tucked beneath the girl's underwears. Wouldn't have been a big deal but they weren't for her friend, they were hers. Wouldn't have been shocking but she had always locked where she kept her stuffs since the day she arrived from the UK. The question was now 'when/how did she do it?'. I defended her friend saying 'are you suggesting we don't have panty liners in Nigeria?' But when she brought out the pack her friend 'took' it from I had to keep shut, it was a UK product and her friend obviously 'helped' herself with some. But why steal instead of ask from a friend that bought you clothes from the UK, I mean, two panty liners? The biggest shock was when her friend got back from church and was confronted. She swore on her daughters life that she didn't steal anything and they couldn't have been beneath her underwears.[yea, she had a daughter]. Why swear on an innocent girl's life on top what you use to...(I mean 2 panty liners)? By the way an HD camera also went missing in that room that day. Please comment on who you think the suspect was? Another 'thief' issue was a family member that stayed over at my place and in less than an hour I left him in my room, he found and stole 8k. The difficult thing about issues like this is it would turn to a huge family issue if pursued and no one wants such issue...except me, you can call me Stewie cause I'm no Family Guy.
The truth is I don't want to trash people on my blog or use it as a safety vavle to vent but if things continue like this I will start dropping names with facts.
There are a myriad reasons people steal. A lot of people are likely to state casual effects that are usually out of a person's control. Such reasons include poor family background/training and negative peer relations but I don't believe in such. Everyman should be held accountable for his/her actions. Nobody should be blamed or labelled responsible for another man's action. If you steal then it was because you wanted to and this reason holds true regardless of social status/class. There are many ways an individual can achieve a goal or fulfil a need, some settle for the hard work route while others settle for the easy way out which includes stealing. This is because stealing is not an end in itself but a means to an end [a way of achieving your goal]. A quick illustration, you want a car because you want to increase your status. You can either work to raise the money or steal it. Stealing won't give you gratification [you might actually feel bad] but the car would make you fulfilled [You don't feel bad with what you get from stealing but how you got it]. But I'll have to be honest, some have psychological disorders resulting to a compulsive act to steal. These are the kleptomaniacs, not my problem
The annoying part to me is when a suspect denies stealing. It's even more annoying when the person wasn't just a suspect but the culprit as well. An event occurred January 2011, I was with someone who recently returned to Nigeria after years in the UK. She was sharing a room with one other friend who was based in Nigeria. On a Sunday, less than a week after her arrival, she decided to rearrange the wardrobes she shared with the other girl. The other girl was not around [she went to church] so she had to do it all by herself while I stayed in the background gisting. As she was moving the other girl's stuff from one wardrobe to another she saw two panty liners tucked beneath the girl's underwears. Wouldn't have been a big deal but they weren't for her friend, they were hers. Wouldn't have been shocking but she had always locked where she kept her stuffs since the day she arrived from the UK. The question was now 'when/how did she do it?'. I defended her friend saying 'are you suggesting we don't have panty liners in Nigeria?' But when she brought out the pack her friend 'took' it from I had to keep shut, it was a UK product and her friend obviously 'helped' herself with some. But why steal instead of ask from a friend that bought you clothes from the UK, I mean, two panty liners? The biggest shock was when her friend got back from church and was confronted. She swore on her daughters life that she didn't steal anything and they couldn't have been beneath her underwears.[yea, she had a daughter]. Why swear on an innocent girl's life on top what you use to...(I mean 2 panty liners)? By the way an HD camera also went missing in that room that day. Please comment on who you think the suspect was? Another 'thief' issue was a family member that stayed over at my place and in less than an hour I left him in my room, he found and stole 8k. The difficult thing about issues like this is it would turn to a huge family issue if pursued and no one wants such issue...except me, you can call me Stewie cause I'm no Family Guy.
The truth is I don't want to trash people on my blog or use it as a safety vavle to vent but if things continue like this I will start dropping names with facts.
Friday, January 21, 2011
You can always COUNT on You.
After the leading Nigerian political party primaries in 2011, a winner emerged with close to 4000 votes, the second had little over 700 votes from delegates while the last candidate, Sarah Jibril, had 1 vote, hers. The unfortunate part was she supposedly joined the party due to similar political ideologies. For the same individual to have no vote from others only showed she was playing with the wrong team. Then again, are we ever playing for the right team that would do unto us what we could do for them.
But that is life, you can always/mostly/only count on you. Like a lizard that falls and nods 'well done', we can only represent ourselves, salute our achievements, and be motivated by our failures. How many people do you know that can give you half of what he/she had if you lose all you have? A 'chairman' in my area thought he had the support of his 'boys' until he got broke and became a boy to one of his boys who was now a chairman. Some live life carelessly with the belief someone was watching their back.
I have always known this- that everyman is for himself and like I said, you can always count on you. Sure you can welcome support, but count on you to do the work. Even your family members can desert you when you are down. A friend once told me the dad said "don't expect any inheritance from me". Not everyone enjoys the benefit of hearing that firsthand. I'll suggest you watch the movie 'Million Dollar Baby' where despite the lead character being in her sick bed, her family declared their interest in her wealth and gave little regard to her health. Maybe selfish but they were only looking out for themselves, counting on themselves.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Welcome to Graduation
Wake up Mr. West, Mr. West, Mr. Fresh
Mr, by-his-self-he-so-impressed
I mean damn, did you even see the test
You got D’s mother…, D’s…
And yes, barely passed any and every class
Looking at every ass
Cheated on every test
I guess this is my dissertation
Homie, this shit is basic Welcome to Graduation
I’m not one to fuss over anything, birthdays wasn’t different from any other day so why make a fuss over convocation. So I have a degree, my friend that barely attended classes has got one, the lawyer within the low pay grade has one too, so also the banker and oil worker- spending money they didn’t earn and earning money can’t spend respectively. That shit is basic. But I did learn from school and did meet people. I know a few “that finished school and started their own business, [I was like] oh! You graduated, the reply was, No I decided I was finished”. That shit is also basic, not everyone graduates. They end up either being Bill Gates or the Gate-man.
No doubt university was fun especially if you were a student in the University of Lagos, where you meet the Jennifers and the Hot Hot Lawals. I had fun, did all there was to do [for your sake] so I wouldn’t need to drive in there years to come to pick up your daughters in my machine. And everyone should have this experience, let your most vibrant youthful years be spent in a stimulating environment with limitless temptation to learn how to be matured and build character.
The truth is you don’t need a degree to be educated, “You graduate when you make it out of the streets, from the moments of pain, look at how far [you came], haters saying [you’ve] changed, Now you’re doing your thing”. That is basic. I will not deceive anybody a degree makes anyone special but it does reduce the probability of not making it out of the streets. So if you do see any picture of me in convocation gown remember I wasn't celebrating a 3.51 C.G.P.A, I was celebrating graduating out of the streets. What else can I say… this shit is basic.
Mr, by-his-self-he-so-impressed
I mean damn, did you even see the test
You got D’s mother…, D’s…
And yes, barely passed any and every class
Looking at every ass
Cheated on every test
I guess this is my dissertation
Homie, this shit is basic Welcome to Graduation
I’m not one to fuss over anything, birthdays wasn’t different from any other day so why make a fuss over convocation. So I have a degree, my friend that barely attended classes has got one, the lawyer within the low pay grade has one too, so also the banker and oil worker- spending money they didn’t earn and earning money can’t spend respectively. That shit is basic. But I did learn from school and did meet people. I know a few “that finished school and started their own business, [I was like] oh! You graduated, the reply was, No I decided I was finished”. That shit is also basic, not everyone graduates. They end up either being Bill Gates or the Gate-man.
No doubt university was fun especially if you were a student in the University of Lagos, where you meet the Jennifers and the Hot Hot Lawals. I had fun, did all there was to do [for your sake] so I wouldn’t need to drive in there years to come to pick up your daughters in my machine. And everyone should have this experience, let your most vibrant youthful years be spent in a stimulating environment with limitless temptation to learn how to be matured and build character.
The truth is you don’t need a degree to be educated, “You graduate when you make it out of the streets, from the moments of pain, look at how far [you came], haters saying [you’ve] changed, Now you’re doing your thing”. That is basic. I will not deceive anybody a degree makes anyone special but it does reduce the probability of not making it out of the streets. So if you do see any picture of me in convocation gown remember I wasn't celebrating a 3.51 C.G.P.A, I was celebrating graduating out of the streets. What else can I say… this shit is basic.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Who knows Ella?
A male friend was the first person to tell me about a girl called Ella. He told me she was found dead after leaving home to catch with her boyfriend. She was a student of University of Lagos. He had one of her pictures on his phone and I had to exclaim "What a waste?" Cause facially her head dey there. He told me he got the picture from a friend who knew her. Also, one of our mutual friend I'll Alex knew her. It was a shock though, but it wasn't new nor news students dying. During my finals one died from the Economics department. It was quite sad BUT students had finals to write. So I went home thinking that would be the last I would hear about Ella but I was soooo wrong. I met another friend in my area who told me about a girl that died. I was like, "Let me guess her name, Ella" and I was right. She told me she was her friend back in school. She showed me one of her pictures and it was the same one my friend had showed me (it felt like a recycled image). I added Alex knew the girl as well and she responded she was the one that told him about the girl.
Hours later I was another friend who arrived the country recently and he told me how dangerous Nigeria was and made an example with a girl called Ella. I was shocked cause I could not say who told him. To make it more confusing for me he said it was a personal friend of hers that told him. Bear in mind the news of the girl's death was bearly 24 hours so I guessed she had to be a celebrity in UNILAG, but first I needed to find who knew Ella.
I understood what gave her post humous fame was her speculated cause of death. 'A friend' of hers said her boyfriend used her for blood money and was now behind bars. Another 'friend' said her boyfriend drugged her because he wanted to sleep with her and she overdosed and died. One said she went to the same school with her and her full name was ELLACHUKWU while another said ANTOINELLA. I also heard she was a worker in the Rock Foundation Fellowship. Another said she was a 300 level student studying Marine Science, Linda Ikeji on her blog said she was in 200 level and 17+ years old. With all the misinformation I heard it became difficult for me to find her on Facebook. But, I did find a group page dedicated to her although I couldn't find her on their friend's list.
I don't know who Ella is, I don't even kmow if that was her real name and was buried at Atan cementry two days after her demise. What I do know is whoever she was sho would be missed by those who loved her and those who knew her. With their love they have made a whole lot of people share their loss. Either good or bad or nothing at all, you have known Ella.
Hours later I was another friend who arrived the country recently and he told me how dangerous Nigeria was and made an example with a girl called Ella. I was shocked cause I could not say who told him. To make it more confusing for me he said it was a personal friend of hers that told him. Bear in mind the news of the girl's death was bearly 24 hours so I guessed she had to be a celebrity in UNILAG, but first I needed to find who knew Ella.
I understood what gave her post humous fame was her speculated cause of death. 'A friend' of hers said her boyfriend used her for blood money and was now behind bars. Another 'friend' said her boyfriend drugged her because he wanted to sleep with her and she overdosed and died. One said she went to the same school with her and her full name was ELLACHUKWU while another said ANTOINELLA. I also heard she was a worker in the Rock Foundation Fellowship. Another said she was a 300 level student studying Marine Science, Linda Ikeji on her blog said she was in 200 level and 17+ years old. With all the misinformation I heard it became difficult for me to find her on Facebook. But, I did find a group page dedicated to her although I couldn't find her on their friend's list.
I don't know who Ella is, I don't even kmow if that was her real name and was buried at Atan cementry two days after her demise. What I do know is whoever she was sho would be missed by those who loved her and those who knew her. With their love they have made a whole lot of people share their loss. Either good or bad or nothing at all, you have known Ella.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
I'm on My Way
If I’m to describe myself one of the qualities I’ll attribute to me is patience. Some see it as a virtue but I consider it a weapon. It’s easier for man to wait for something they are not expecting anytime soon (like the second coming), what tests our patience is what quite frankly wouldn’t take that long. Say you want to but credit and the seller is few seconds slow you are likely to react and vent about the delay as if you’ve waited for hours. Those of us who patronise bukas would understand better. What tests my patience the most and I’ll assume you too is when you are expecting someone to catch up with you somewhere, maybe your crib, and you keep calling about their location and their response was “I’m on my way.”
I’ve lost count of the number of times where I was in my crib, cleaned up Stamford Bridge, and expect the ‘away team’ to show only to hear “I’m on my way” until the next day. I prefer to hear “I’m on” than “I’m on my way”. That’s why I snicker when I’m with my guys and they call their chics and she tells them “I’m on my way”. One of my guys waited from 12 noon. He called her and she said “I’m on my way, I just left my house.” Two hours later, “I’m on my way, I had to branch to see my aunt.” This continued until my guy slept off and I decided to wake him up few minutes to midnight. I urged him to call her which he did, and he asked her, “Are you still coming?” which made everyone burst into laughter even her.
The question especially to girls is why can’t you just be honest for once and be upfront? Excuses upon excuses, I know they aren’t superwoman that’s why I respect being upfront. A girl once told me, “I’m about to cook then take my bath then I will come and see you after I fix my hair then I have to see my friend to collect something (that ‘something’ never have names), from there I’ll take a bike to see you. Of course I ruled out her coming and I wasn’t even home myself. She called 10 pm to apologise that she wouldn’t be able to make it.
The guys I pity most are those who make ‘preparations’ when a girl says that. One question I’ve noticed they ask is “What are you going to eat?” Not that they intend to cook but to create the impression how much they expected the girl and what would waste if she failed to turn up. All na format, some would even say I was supposed to go out but I stayed behind because of you. A guy took the regular Kasapreko and one Chinese drug. His manhood was as… (You get the idea). After hearing “I’m on my way” in the space of ten hours, he attempted to cajole boys into patronising po-pos. He needed a release because he was extra-prepared. I felt for the guy, then again it might have been a blessing in disguise cause if the girl had come I would have felt for her considering waht awaited her.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Ojota: The Power of Humour
There are times where we just sit at home and hear about a crisis going on somewhere. These crises usually lead to the death of people unconcerned and the cause is usually something that would have been solved with something as little as the right attitude. Imagine you are hungry and you use your last cash to buy a meal to eat later. Only for you to find an empty plate when you were ready to eat, you walk out hungry and angry and you see someone eating what you guessed was yours. You attack him without warning and he retaliates out of defence. His friends come and you also call for back-up. Any animosity that was buried is now resurrected and unfortunately someone dies or seriously injured. Now blood is a catalyst for crisis, someone has to pay the blood spilled. That is a crisis for you and the media would give them that attention. As a social psychologist or a citizen of this world, how can one stop crisis? I was surprised when I found out an answer.
It was at Ojota, midday Sunday. A man was driving and was about to make a turn when an Okada man, in an attempt to make the turn before the car, sped in front of the moving vehicle from the side. The man must have been unaware of the okada and there was a collision. The impact of it all left the okada man on the ground with broken bones. It was evident this man was likely not going to use his legs anymore ‘cause his right leg for one looked like just skin. The bones looked like stones from the outside, totally crushed with blood everywhere. Everyone rushed to the scene even the driver. You should trust Nigerians, everyone was screaming for the injured man without any initiative to help him to a hospital. Instead one of the supposedly angry men decided to express himself on the car by hitting it. He even suggested the car be burnt. Others soon joined them only to be approached by an ‘intellectual man’. He suggested that wasn’t the option instead he could use the car to drive the bleeding man to the hospital. To me that made sense but to others No, angry Nigerians think differently. One of the men suggested he was the driver and was the person that caused the accident. Before you could say Jack Spa…*SLAP*. Others joined in beating the man who was screaming he was innocent. Somehow the man was able to spot a police patrol van and ran towards it, after all police is your friend. The mob was on his tail and warned the police to release him to execute jungle justice. Those people were no doubt furious. The man managed to explain that he wasn’t the owner of the car but by then they felt he was lying to escape being lynched. The driver on the other hand was witnessing all these and must have been glad he wasn’t spotted. However he blew his cover when he made a phone call and made a statement in Yoruba meaning, “The car was not burnt.” Someone heard that statement and alerted others that he was the driver. While taking steps backwards he denied being the driver until he sensed his cover was blown and began to run. They chased him into a bus garage. Naturally in Lagos touts pass touts. The touts in the garage saw the mob as attempting to barge into their territory. One of the touts in the garage decided to hold a weapon, anything, to break up the mob. He saw a man holding a long stick vertically on the ground. He shouted at the man to give him the stick but the man moved back. He charged forward and shouted, “Ogbemi fun mi ni igi yen (Give me that stick)”. He stretched his hand to pull the stick away from the man’s grip but the man held on tightly. Everyone was questioning what the tout had in mind. When he got possession of the stick the other man fell and he realised he was a cripple and that was his walking stick, so he made a statement, “Oba ti so (You should have talked)”. Everyone began to laugh and it was a genuine laugh caused it cleared all the tension in the air. Everyone was back to their senses and finally had time for the okada man which I must add was being given pieces of his bones which he was putting in his pocket. Everyone surprisingly found humour in everything.
It was at Ojota, midday Sunday. A man was driving and was about to make a turn when an Okada man, in an attempt to make the turn before the car, sped in front of the moving vehicle from the side. The man must have been unaware of the okada and there was a collision. The impact of it all left the okada man on the ground with broken bones. It was evident this man was likely not going to use his legs anymore ‘cause his right leg for one looked like just skin. The bones looked like stones from the outside, totally crushed with blood everywhere. Everyone rushed to the scene even the driver. You should trust Nigerians, everyone was screaming for the injured man without any initiative to help him to a hospital. Instead one of the supposedly angry men decided to express himself on the car by hitting it. He even suggested the car be burnt. Others soon joined them only to be approached by an ‘intellectual man’. He suggested that wasn’t the option instead he could use the car to drive the bleeding man to the hospital. To me that made sense but to others No, angry Nigerians think differently. One of the men suggested he was the driver and was the person that caused the accident. Before you could say Jack Spa…*SLAP*. Others joined in beating the man who was screaming he was innocent. Somehow the man was able to spot a police patrol van and ran towards it, after all police is your friend. The mob was on his tail and warned the police to release him to execute jungle justice. Those people were no doubt furious. The man managed to explain that he wasn’t the owner of the car but by then they felt he was lying to escape being lynched. The driver on the other hand was witnessing all these and must have been glad he wasn’t spotted. However he blew his cover when he made a phone call and made a statement in Yoruba meaning, “The car was not burnt.” Someone heard that statement and alerted others that he was the driver. While taking steps backwards he denied being the driver until he sensed his cover was blown and began to run. They chased him into a bus garage. Naturally in Lagos touts pass touts. The touts in the garage saw the mob as attempting to barge into their territory. One of the touts in the garage decided to hold a weapon, anything, to break up the mob. He saw a man holding a long stick vertically on the ground. He shouted at the man to give him the stick but the man moved back. He charged forward and shouted, “Ogbemi fun mi ni igi yen (Give me that stick)”. He stretched his hand to pull the stick away from the man’s grip but the man held on tightly. Everyone was questioning what the tout had in mind. When he got possession of the stick the other man fell and he realised he was a cripple and that was his walking stick, so he made a statement, “Oba ti so (You should have talked)”. Everyone began to laugh and it was a genuine laugh caused it cleared all the tension in the air. Everyone was back to their senses and finally had time for the okada man which I must add was being given pieces of his bones which he was putting in his pocket. Everyone surprisingly found humour in everything.
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