I always have something unimportant to say. This is Artitude…. Live it. Poems….. Stories…. Writing…. Discoveries…. Quotes……

He only comes back anytime after 11, and falls straight into bed.

So wait, what? You think your life is hard? Have you ever had to go one whole year without a boyfriend? Oh that’s a small thing to you?, alright have you been in a position where there is no one to buy you a gift on St. Valentine’s day?, or when you know that you’re really Forever Alone because you end up buying a gift for yourself. Is it not about love? I love myself Jare. Or when you have to go out with a couple on Vals day, simply because you don’t have plans.

You might have been in these positions, but have you had to deal with the fact that your husband may be spending his Valentines day with your best friend?

Meet me, I’m Tara, I’m married with two Children, with great assets, a wonderful job as a full time housewife, a rich husband who spends most of his time out of the country, two cars, a big house and numerous house helps. Sounds like a dream life bah? That used to be theeeen, when I first got married.

I’m sitting on my desk writing this story in pain, and I’m wondering what went wrong, where it went wrong and how I can correct all my mistakes. I met Dele through my Best friend Sade, back in school. He used to be interested in her, but she never returned his feelings, they were friends of course, they even prayed together but she kept telling that she wasn’t ready for Marriage as opposed to what he wanted. In my Friendliness, I tried to convince her to return the love he showed her but she was only an expert at returning the Gifts he bought for her. She said her love could not be bought.

I on the other hand, didn’t have a boyfriend for a whole year, and even when I got into a semi-relationship, it was long distance. It wasn’t that I wasn’t beautiful, but it seemed as if a curse had been placed on me. The people who ever approached me were Bus Drivers, Brick layers and men from the lower scale of affluence. I remember the numerous Valentine days when I bought myself Gifts just to feel loved. I wasn’t complaining, I honestly wasn’t; maybe that’s why these things kept happening.
So when Dele who had chased my friend for two years without any sensible results swung his attention my way, I was shocked. I mean this was Dele, whom I had given tips on things to do to get my friend to get serious with him.

It was Sunday of 2003, two days after Valentines day, Valentine’s day for me had been the usual… I went to see my supervisor concerning my project work, after which I bought myself ice cream,went to the shopping Plaza and bought myself an expensive perfume; I saved two months for it. Two whole months.
I settled into bed that night on hi5 which used to be in Social network then. I was talking to my numerous distant online boyfriends. Life was hard. I heard a knock on the door, and I was surprised to find Sade when I opened it looking really angry, she was supposed to be out with Dele.

‘Can you imagine that Dele tried to kiss me, just because its Valentine’s day. Gosh I hate that boy, the only reason I still talk to him is because he’s nice….’
She paused to drink water from my fridge ‘…I wish I was you, having a wonderful day to myself’

No word of greeting, I was used to it. 🙂 When I finally got the full story from her, she told me of how they had planned to go out and afterward to his house and she had packed an overnight bag thinking it would be just like every other night. Just after a romantic dinner, Dele had tried to kiss her, and she took off angrily leaving her overnight bag in his car. I remember laughing so hard,cause I couldn’t believe that kissing Dele would feel so strange to her. I let her stay with me for the night and conveniently picked Deles calls each time it came in, telling him that she wasn’t with me.

And so that’s how I found myself two days later in Dele’s house trying to retrieve Sade’s sleep over things, she had told me where to get the spare key to the house from and finding her bag in his room wasn’t so difficult. I was laughing hard at the sight of her Bible in her bag; was she coming for a prayer session or what? Really she couldn’t be that Naïve. The sound of my laughter echoed through the empty house, I didn’t hear Dele come in through the back door.

It was his presence in the doorway of his room that made me conscious of his presence. He looked as Handsome as ever, and I handed him the ‘Goodbye letter’ that Sade told me to drop. Things weren’t going as planned, I was supposed to sneak in and out, he wasn’t even supposed to be home. He quickly went through the letter, and without much emotion asked me if I had read it. I nodded.

It was filled with explanations as to why she couldn’t go into any physical relationship with him, boundaries concerning her religion. And she expressed her disgust at his trying to kiss her. I felt sorry for him, I expressed it and tried to cover up for her as usual. Its not that I was loose, but there was nothing wrong in a harmless kiss. I don’t know the message he got, but before long we were kissing each other like we always wanted it, and we proceeded to do other things that Sade would have preached against.

Looking back, maybe that was a little bit wrong but it felt so right at the moment. I hadn’t expected anything serious to follow but he showered me with so much affection that I feel deeper into the love triangle. Within a week, I had moved out of my self contained room to a 2 bedroom flat in V.I.
I would have moved in with him but I didn’t have any intention to hurt Sade; for the same reason, we kept our affair from her. After all he wanted to get married and she said she wanted two Masters degrees before she was going to vaguely consider the idea. 12 months later, just after my convocation, Dele and I had a talk of the town wedding ceremony. I tried my best to make her understand, and she said she did. If she had any unexpressed feelings for Dele other than disgust, or any feelings of resentment against me, she certainly did a good job of covering it up.

Dele and I stayed in Lagos where I did my Youth Service, Sade traveled to the U.K where she intended to do her Masters Degree. And everybody lived happily ever after.

……Or so I thought.

Until she came back last December, two masters degrees later, still single and now 29 years old. Sade is back, and she seems to have waged a war against me and my innocent children. She started subtly at first, calling Dele to speak with me, with the claims that my phones were unreachable. Then she started talking at length with Dele on the phone. Sade who once was a spiritual wall of fire started inviting a married man over for dinner at her place. The first time he went, he said it was for old times sake, the 2nd time he only apologized for wasting the dinner I prepared for him. Dele who used to come home as early as 5p.m from work has now become a stranger to his children as he only comes back any time after 11p.m. He keeps giving me excuses, but his secretary; a married woman I employed for him has told me the truth. The man who saved me from eternal loneliness is causing more pain than I ever had.

As tears fall from my eyes, I reflect on the fact that tomorrow is another St. Valentine’s day, my 9th Marriage anniversary and he will probably be with her again. My life seems to have become a loop, once again I’m going to the Abyss of loneliness. My Children are too young to understand. I’m wondering what I can do to stop Sade forever. Should I poison her, or set her up? How do I go about it? Please tell me what to do.

The Loner

Hello, people of the world which is about to end.

Surprised at my entry? I’m sure most of us would have heard the gist by now that our dear and sweet planet earth will be imploding on the 21st of this month. i hope you guys are preparing to meet your maker.

well, before that time, we have 16 more days to update our blogs, and have as much fun as we like while doing so. so let’s enjoy this piece called The Loner. if you didn’t enjoy it…you’re free to sue me.


The world has abandoned me. No one cares anymore.

They all hate me. They despise me.

They treat me like a plague.

I have no meaning, no importance amongst them.

They all go about their daily lives…oblivious to my existence.

It is as if i am wearing an invisibility cloak, like the type worn by Harry Porter.

But his could be removed…while mine cannot.

Nobody cares about me…I have no Father, or Mother.

Nor brother, or sister.

No lover. No friend.

Just one lone soul existing upon the face of the earth.

I was born alone, and yes… I will die alone.

I will be buried alone. I cannot share my coffin with another body.

I cannot share my being with any other.

They all are enemies to me.

They all hate me, and i hate them in return.

I loathe their existence.

I wish for them to suffer…

Even much worse pain than this one that engulfs me from within

I want to see their tears…

As they wail, and weep… and gnash their teeth

All these years, i have suffered in silence.

I have been abandoned since birth,

And left to face the wrath of the world all by myself.

No one to care, or to show me love.

I have heard of that feeling…

But my soul is an alien to its meaning.

I am void. Empty.

Yet i am filled with darkness, and hatred, and fear…

Fear… that a day will come,

when I will no longer exist as a being.

And my spirit will wander… to the ends of the earth

In search of true companionship

But will find none… still.


this sad piece was written by @ManickaL


Good Evening y’all.
Today I have brought this beautiful post from a Friend. (Thank You Kaycee) Its been around for a while but I have been having problems with my wireless network. Btw…………… I need an editor oh, apply on twitter if you are interested; I have a lot of unfinished work. Thank You. Lets go.
Tape rolling…. Action
I didn’t cry. It was painful what he did, but I didn’t cry. He said it was ok.

I didn’t cry the second time either. I liked it. He was gentler. He told me it was our secret, our special thing, and no one should know about it.

I went to him the third time it happened, it was raining and the thunders scared me. We did it again, I enjoyed it. We began to do it more often, and each time I enjoyed it more.

I was twelve that first time, and a happy child, happier than any other child I knew. I doubt if any other child had so much love. I was my father’s lover and he was mine. Everything was perfect.

And then, on my twentieth birthday, the unthinkable happened.

My father broke up with me. Just like that. He said it wasn’t right, what we do, and that we must stop. End of matter. It felt like a full stop at the end of an epitaph. It was too sudden.

I had no warning, no premonition. The break up was like death. I had taken the week off from school just to be with the only man in my life, the best man I ever knew, or so I thought. I thought my birthday would have ended sensually, like all the others. It was usually the best birthday present he gives me, a passionate night of love making right out of a romance novel.

It had been a while. My higher education had taken me away. And I sorely missed my beloved father. I went home that day with thoughts of my father obscuring all other thoughts. I arrived late in the evening. He wasn’t home yet. I made myself as adorable as he liked. It was not hard. My allure had never needed much artificial furnishings; a touch here and a touch there, and I would be set to win any beauty contest. That evening I was at my best.

All my preparations and quivering anticipation was to have ended in bliss, the kind only my father could give me.

Instead, I got the shock of my life. That terrible day, I knew exactly how the Deer must feel when the hunter’s bullet crashes through its heart. I learnt how it must feel to be shot out of the sky.

I had hoped he didn’t mean it, that this was just another punishment, but the way he said it convinced me it was final. I knew my father; I knew the look on his face. It was the same look he had when he shot Dragon our Alsatian. This was not like before when he would refuse to touch me because I misbehaved. My father had never hit me or scolded me; his punishments were usually more severe and silent. He would simply refuse to touch me for days on end. Such days were hell for me. I could barely survive without him. When he was pleased with me, he really would take his time and give me much pleasure that I never knew was possible.

I was a very well behaved child; I had all the proper manners for a proper lady. Thanks to my father.

But this was no punishment. This was a cessation. This was my death. I tried to make him see reason, to convince him that we were to be forever. I told him of our joys, our laughs and how love couldn’t be any better. I begged him not to kill his beloved and only child.

The man was like a stone.

It is true what they say. Men are beasts; unfeeling beasts.

How could he end something so wonderful, something so perfect? He said he still loved me, but I didn’t believe him, I couldn’t believe that. He couldn’t even look me in the eye when he said it. There must have been a reason, but I didn’t care for whatever it was. I knew it wasn’t about right or wrong, there is no love that can be wrong, especially the kind we had. It was beautiful; we were one, my father and I. Our love transcended that of a father and his daughter. It was the stuff of heaven. No, His reason wasn’t religious, not at all, my father wasn’t that sentimental. I was his sole religion, he worshiped me.

There was no one else either, I knew that much. My mother died while birthing me. Ever since, I had been my father’s heartbeat. And he was my breath. I never missed my mother. I never knew her, never would meet her. I would, perhaps, have liked to know her, but somehow I thank God she wasn’t with us. It would have been awkward. I don’t think I could have shared my father with any one.

My father gave no reason for killing me. He couldn’t explain why we could no longer have what we had. There was nothing I didn’t think, there was no thought I didn’t wish to explain his decision by. Something, perhaps, must have happened to his hormones. I couldn’t believe this was my perfect father. I couldn’t believe my day could ever become so dark.

He only said he was doing it for me, that it was for the best, my best. How could I have ever believed the man loved me? He even looked sad that day, so sorrowful and tired. In better times and in our previous world, I would have taken him in my arms as I was wont, and work my magic on him. Over the years I had learnt his special recipe. I was the only one who knew his mix. I had never asked him, but I sensed that even my mother didn’t take him to the heights I took him.

But his words belied the sorrow on his features. He had said the break up words so casually, so matter of factly, as if he had thought it through and found it a simple matter. There should be a special kind of voice and words for pronouncements of that nature, something equal and suitably terrible. The normalcy and casualness of his words were a negation. It was like mockery. I didn’t know I could ever stop being what I was to him; I had never thought our relationship would end. But end it did, and in so shocking a manner. Good things shouldn’t end that abruptly. Relationships don’t die at once. Death is not a casual occurrence.

The most painful part of it was that I didn’t die. I felt like dying. I wanted to die. But I didn’t know how to go about it. I should have killed him too; I should have hurt him too. He looked like he was hurting, but I should have made sure. It is too painful to feel the pain of death and yet be alive. There is no pain worse than the pain of death.

And then, the man wanted us to be Father and Daughter, just father and daughter. I couldn’t understand why he would want to reduce our love to something merely biological and normal. Why on earth couldn’t he see that I could never be happy as just his daughter, and that I could never be remotely happy with any other arrangement? We were happy, I made him happy. Why do some people reject their own happiness?

For a long time I had believed my father loved me. On my twentiethbirthday, I knew the truth. That day was my awakening to the heartlessness of men, and the absurdity of love. That day, I grew up, I grew old and I died.

It was the last day I spoke or saw my father. He killed me, so I made sure I remained dead to him. I became a living dead, dead inside and alive only in looks.

As I left him that evening, I looked back a lot of times. He didn’t recant, he didn’t rethink. He watched me leave. The tears were streaming from both our eyelids. I could feel his sorrow; it was thick enough to touch. The feeling was apt; death had occurred.

The man came for me twice, later. But he came as a father coming for his daughter. He should have come for me as a soul for its soul mate, like breath for air, like the dying for life. That was what we were; romance and its love.

He came, just that twice. I waited for him too, but he never came again. I gave up.

I made a new resolve. Men would learn from me, the very hard way. I have what they want. My beauty is the glaring kind that every body agrees with. But my heart would be a different matter. I knew most men wouldn’t resist me; they can’t be as tough as my father, my looks were not enough for that man to change his mind and do the right thing, the best thing.

It wasn’t easy. It took a while before I could stand the touch of any other man, but vengeance helped me detach my body from myself.

I would forever be grateful for my looks; it was my ultimate shield. It helped me survive and helped my resolve. I set off on a mission, to hurt as I had been hurt. I soon became very successful. I brought both boys and men to their knees. I killed them and still left them alive. I remember the families that fought themselves over me, the brothers that would never forgive each other, the scandalized churches and governments, the suicides, the bankruptcies. There is a lot a body can do when it is rightly motivated.

My father didn’t know what he unleashed.

Payback is a beautiful side of nature. There is no payback as sweet and profound as when it’s total and final, like death. No man recovered that encountered me.

But vengeance was not so much fun. I didn’t feel any lasting relief. Hurting men didn’t make me feel much better; it was a constant reminder to my own heartbreak. But I couldn’t stop. Sometimes I wondered what the whole point was. I could never lose the pangs I had for my father’s touch. Payback did not completely fill the chasm that my father dug in me. I doubt if anything ever would.

I would have easily given everything up for things to get back to what it was.

I lived like someone on a mission, and I wanted to be free from the service, but I just couldn’t. In moments of weakness, I would always think about what my father and I had. Thinking about our perfect love brought me tears and gave me joy. At such moments, I would really try to feel and have fun, I would let my guard down to see if I would be alive again. It was no use. No other man was like my father. No one even came close. No one was able to get me right, something was always missing. With my dad it was perfect, he knew just what I wanted, and how. No two people were ever in sync as my father and I was. No other man could bring me alive.

The last time I had pleasure was with my father.

This many years have past, since I lost my beloved father. And more recently the world lost him too. I just left his grave side. I have never been able to understand why I keep visiting his grave, despite the distance, despite all. And each time, I always leave with an exhausting longing, a fiery desire, and an intense craving.

I would do anything; anything, just to have sex with my father again.



Well, everybody obviously here we are again. To read another article. Hi, my name is Nma or LaChica Bonita if you wish. I have a little something from @alcoholhero. I hope you enjoy it, although that will certainly do no one good.


*Crack* Chews boiled groundnut and discards pod… *crack* *crack* oh someone is here? Can y’all just pause till I finish the groundnut, its only 4cups…. No? Okay… 


*clears throat* *Cleans Mouth* *drinks water* Errr sorry that’s usually my pre-speech ritual. My friend here asked me to help her with this blog and being her Dark Knight *dodges shoe* am here to her res…*dodges bag* ..cue. Here Goes


*clears throat*


When I was young there were a lot of things wrong but stupidity of the General public wasn’t one of them. *this is no cool story* A lot of things has gone wrong with the society now, and am not here to Judge no one, (with the exception of Charley Boy the Area Father and his Nude Pics) but of all the avenues for an exhibition of stupidity which we also call “Social Media” no one has beat the gross stupidity, and cantankerous foolishness that BC’s has offered in the past 3years since the popularity of blackberries. BC in this case does not mean “Before Christ” as it originally meant before 2009… It means the utter uselessness of “Broadcast Message” which was very well supposed to be BM. (Why it picked up the acronym BC? ¯\..(•͡.̮ •͡ )../¯).


 As much as the broadcast message enables you dissipate information at the snap of your finger tips whether on BBM or whatsapp, it also provides an avenue for you to share your stupidity in the blink of an eye and I trust my generation to make good use of it in this area *hot purple tears*. 

Oh well for those of you that don’t have Blackberry’s on here or don’t use whatsapp, you definitely would have gotten a text message that said “pass this on” to save a life, break a curse, help a blind man see, turn water to wine, fly into the sky or stand the chance to win one million naira or any of that gibberish yep and like we all know, they never worked. You obviously know what am talking about then.


Some months back, I received one of those chain messages that said “blah blah blah, don’t have anything red on you or you will die”. I took a quick pop to my wardrobe and burnt the only red shirt I had (*red tears this time around* (۳º̩̩́_º̩̩̀)۳ ). Then I looked around and realised my curtains were red, and that might mean my house would collapse so I pulled down my curtains… There, just as I was about to feel accomplished like a boss I remembered my blood is red. Dilemma: should I now commit suicide or drink jik to bleach the blood?  

I just don’t get it, the annoying part of it is that okay we agree the composer of the BC is stupid, but do you also have to be part of the stupid train by forwarding it? It baffles me. 

Then there was the one that was sent to me on mothers day and as usual it was “blah blah blah send this to 10people and watch blessings embarrass your mother, do not break the chain or else you will watch your mother suffer” I immediately pinged the STUPID person that sent it and Told her “awww my baby, may Amadioha strike you and your BB, and may Ogun carry you in his arms to the depths of Hell. There is a common saying: “When purpose is not known, abuse is inevitable”, a typical example of what happens everyday. 


Next on my list is Twitter, *cracks groundnut* (err sorry I couldn’t resist, its not easy getting into a staring contest with groundnut, I always loose)………………………………..(._. )…………( ._.)…………..( ._. )…..(‘-‘ )…….*cracks groundnut* 


The reigning social network right. You prolly may be among the ones that don’t like it cause its a little to complex with all the #harshtags, @handles, TT’s, FOLLOWERS, abbreviations and blah blah blah, oh well the only thing I would say to you is may your eyes be opened. 

As interesting and time wasting as it can be, i trust my generation to make the most stupidity out of it, I wouldn’t even want to go in to the details of how a Twubby (Twitter Husband) and Twifey (Twitter Wife) will have twisex(Twitter Sex) and give birth to a twichild get in a Twitfyt, then get in twitjail and then get a divorce and end up BLOCKED… Happy Ending!!! 

That’s not as bad as it gets tho the worst of all is the part that people actually buy followers (for those who don’t know, on twitter we are all Evangelists so we have followers). Now how you would actually starve to buy followers over a social network that you get no pay for it just beats me… If there is anything stupider than that on this Earth then… Yet again I wouldn’t be surprised. Like basically you buy followers to get you upto 10000 followers and then in your mind that works as a naïve as that of a Piglet you attain the status of a twit-celeb *deep sigh* I hope one hacker humbly hacks your account and screws you.


Maybe I should quit my ranting here, and I would like to end with this quote 


“Only two things are infinite, The Universe and Human stupidity and am not sure about the former” – Albert Einstein 


*cracks groundnut*



Hey y’all No pun intended. ┐(‘⌣’┐) (┌’⌣’)┌ ƪ(˘⌣˘)┐ ┌(˘.˘)ʃ I enjoyed the read.


Hola Readers…

I have returned, how is everybody. Missed me? No? Okay, I don’t care. Lets proceed.


Today is a great day, really. Because I decided to write something that has never been written before, straight from the tips of my fingers. See… as I pour black ink over this white page I want you all to know that, from the bottom of my heart I am genuinely not sorry for not writing anything here for  a long time. I have been doing a lot of stuff, A lot. Including sleeping and adding weight. I have been doing a lot of thinking too. But I missed me writing here. Also, I have changed… and I wont explain.

   I have been considering a challenge, but I realized that real heroes don’t need to prove to their readers that they can overcome a self-set challenge. So I came up with a new task; Delegation, and more Delegation’. I’ve decided never to do any stuff someone else can do for me. Thank You.


My next two posts will probably be from my Friend, ally and semi-editor Jeff, who has been there since I started writing online. Or not…… I’ve become unpredictable these days, even to myself. Thank Me if you eventually read it.

Tomorrow will mark the end and beginning of another year in my Life. I thank God.

Before you go, I need you all to tell or say what you think on this matter; Feminism. Are Men and women equal?


Hello Mortals, today is No Panty Day……… And even though I’m wearing panties,(of course na) I have decided to put up a post. Now please nobody should be so dumb as to ask why today of all days, I’m a woman and by now you all should know we say even the things we’re not asked. Soooooo down to my story oh jare……

For those of you that aren’t on my BBM, your girl wants to buy a Samsung galaxy oh.

So today is world panty day and my friend and I decided to go visit another friend and friend, now how we got there isn’t important but when i got there i saw a Samsung galaxy tab on the couch. (ghen ghen?) In-case you dunno, its a phone; An Android phone and i know many of you haven’t seen it, so please nobody should give me the Nma-is-a-bush-girl look.
After famzing small, I picked up the phone and Bam! I’m on the net. At this juncture I must say hat the phone is tight. There’s no site I’ve not opened today oh, I made sure I went to all the blog sites I’ve abandoned:…. Including mine. Went to Terdoh’s Blog, Wana’s 360nobs One on One with Celebs(celebs ko.), will visit The Joker, Saka and some other blogs soon. If I didn’t abandon your blog, then today is not your lucky day. Well this som’tin doesn’t have spell check oh, or maybe I haven’t found out where it is yet….. It keeps switching my I with O, but that’s not a problem; its still an awesome phone. The owner hasn’t really figured out how to use it yet, so he’s not disturbing me yet. Of course the owner is a guy, females are almost too vain to have this kind of phone.

So the issue is that I need to buy this Samsung Galaxy tab. And I need your donations, Please I am extremely serious. If u have any rich brother or Uncle that will buy it for me without having to be ‘Simbi the runs girl’, please indicate and help a sister in need. And if you think you would.love to donate to my cause add me up on BBM(and don’t forget to tell me where you got my pin); 31199a2c.

I’ve been wondering what the problem with Nigeria is, why wasn’t this phone produced by one of us, Why wasn’t Steve Jobs a Nigerian. Is it that we lack brains over here or that the system doesn’t give us good opportunities to showcase our talents. Just what exactly?

Anyway this is two days later, that’s to show you how busy I am. I couldn’t finish the post on there because something more important came up. Don’t forgive me. (I really couldn’t be bothered). And I think I have forgotten all the awesome things I wanted to say about the phone. Now since I have succeeded in ranting and raving. Its time for all of you to find your way out of here, the same way you came. I’ll be putting up a sensible post up soon.


PS; I’m too tired to check for corrections, as I said earlier I’m busy.

Hola mi amigos, this is the sequel to ‘Night Time is for Prowling’. If you enjoyed laughing at me in the former, you’ll enjoy this.
Here’s the link for the first part of it: NIGHT TIME IS FOR PROWLING
We were shocked. Chisom and I that is.

I was staring stupidly at the pair of big red sneakers behind a stack of books as I knew Chisom was staring at the notepad I had handed her a few seconds earlier. But I was not even in the room at that point.

I was remembering staring at the same pair of sneakers as our assailant had shouted and threatened us before walking to his car and driving off. I remember the humiliation I felt as I wet myself out of fear…and a red curtain of rage descended on my brain.

“Juliet?” Chisom said, sounding scared. She knew well enough how I got whenever I was angry…and at that moment I was murderously angry.

“Juliet, please don’t lose control,” she pleaded with me. “There must be an explanation…”

I turned on her furiously. “Of course there must be! He’s your brother isn’t he?”

Chisom looked hurt. “No…that’s not why, and you know that. That guy from last night just did not seem like Junior. Mask or no, I would think I’d recognize my own brother that up close.”

That stopped me. It was true. Even though I did not know Junior that much, I wasn’t convinced it was him that had been on the road last night. The size and voice just did not fit. However…

“Maybe that’s true, but even you can’t deny he must know something. The shoes…the notepad? He must know something!”

Chisom nodded, looking unhappy. “I don’t know what’s going on, but Junior will – should soon be back. He’ll explain things then.”

Despite Chisom’s confidence, it was almost three hours before we heard Junior stop the car outside. She jumped up nervously and went to stand by the door. I remained by the table, carrying one of the red sneakers. Some seconds later began to hear voices, and Chisom looked at me wonderingly. I just shrugged.

Moments later the door opened and in came Junior, talking over his shoulder to a guy who was much taller than he was. As soon as they were both in the room, Chisom quietly shut the door and leaned against it. I mentally applauded her.

“Hey…what…” Junior began, and then he looked up and saw me. “What are you guys doing my room? Chisom?”

She did not answer. Neither did I. I was watching the guy behind Junior. He looked back at me, looking very handsome with one eyebrow raised but I was not seeing any of that. Instead I was seeing someone who was wearing a mask, commanding my friend and me to do humiliating things…

“Junior, whose sneakers are those?” I heard Chisom ask from her position at the door. Junior frowned and stepped towards me, looking at the shoe I was carrying.

“Why do you want to know? First of all you shouldn’t be in my room…” I interrupted.

“Just answer the question, Junior. It’s important.”

Junior was trying to make up his mind when his friend spoke from over his shoulder, “those are mine. And yes; I was the one who stopped you guys last night.”

Even if I was not sure before hearing his voice confirmed it for me. His calm infuriated me and I hurled the sneaker I was still carrying at his head. As he calmly knocked it aside I made ready to throw myself at him.

In all the confusion, I didn’t realize Chisom had left her position by the door and was standing next to me. The first clue I had about her presence was a pair of hands that wrapped themselves around me; effectively immobilizing me. I looked at my friend Chisom through eyes that were ready to stream tears of rage and frustration, but she was not looking at me. Instead she was staring at Junior’s friend.

“But why?” she asked him, pain clear in her voice. “What did we ever do to you?”

I saw Junior from the corner of my eye; looking like a chicken that had suddenly been drenched in water. His mouth was open, and he kept alternating between staring at us and staring at his friend.

“You better close that mouth before a fly makes a home of it,” I said dryly, and then laughed as he snapped his mouth shut.The sight was so…I could not stop laughing. Junior looked at me strangely, and then he too started laughing. Before long the small room was filled with sounds of our laughter as Chisom and our handsome ‘abductor’ joined in.

Finally Chisom wiped the tears from her eyes and asked him; “you still haven’t answered the question. Why?”

Grinning widely, our ‘abductor’ responded. “You know you guys are quite the neighborhood showoffs, and besides it really isn’t safe getting out at the time you guys do. I just took the opportunity to kill two birds with a stone.”

He finished, looking quite pleased with himself.

I was a bit angry. “You idiot. Whatever did you do with the video?” I asked him rudely.

Junior answered. “Are you talking about this video?”

I swung around to see him brandishing an iPhone; the same one with which our humiliation was recorded the night before. I dashed at him and made to grab it but I missed. He laughed, and then I heard a voice saying ‘please please’.

My voice.

I covered my face in embarrassment, but Chisom, silly girl went to her brother and started watching the video with him. “Juliet, come and watch this stuff. It’s hilarious!”

I was not going to budge – that is, till ‘abductor’ grabbed my arm and gently pulled me to Junior’s side of the room. And I hate to admit it; but the video was funny. I started watching at the part where Chisom and I were dancing to no music. Watching the way we were moving and the looks on our faces; I couldn’t help it. I burst out laughing.

As the video played to the end, I quickly grabbed the phone and ran towards the door. ‘Abductor’ got there first and grabbed me, but not before I deleted the video. Junior quickly came up and grabbed the phone…looking dismayed as he could not find the video, but the dude’s unruffled demeanor bothered me.

As Chisom, still laughing took her brother away and I opened the door to go upstairs, I leaned in close and asked ‘abductor’; ‘That’s the only copy you had, right?’

He grinned and mouthed one word ‘youtube’.
Lmfao. I’m laughing at myself. My story.
All thanks to Seun Odukoya, he writes for me and is an editor and special friend. Join him at Naija Stories Much luv dear.

Here’s the first part again: NIGHT TIME IS FOR PROWLING
If you enjoyed this, and would luv to read more; Subscribe to this Blog. Also don’t forget to drop a comment, I’ll love to read what you think. 🙂


*Runs into blog hall; everybody silently eyeing my chest. I look down to find out that my buttons have popped open*

Me: Bless you sister, Bless you brother. (while closing buttons), geez I’m late as……..
Amir: Please bless me with a hug
Me: that’s not what we came here for, now will you kindly look up.
*stage set, everybody in position, tape rolling, and action:

“I remember when I was in primary 4, our English teacher taught us how to write letters. That day I wrote a letter to a girl who had graduated, sent it through her neighbor to her. My words; ‘I have really missed you, and I just want to tell you I love you so very much’. :).

Miss Mumu: 3737
Me: Eisss!

” To me that was the most beautiful letter I ever wrote. The next day at school;
(at the assembly)
Sina: Blessing, that Aunty is calling you.
I ran over to answer her and come back in time for the assembly. By the time I got there, a small congregation of teachers had gathered and they were pointing at me. Finally, they left for the assembly, leaving me the messenger, my messengee(its correct :|), her mom and the Little girl’s class teacher.

Class teacher: ehen, so you’re Blessing. Mgbo u wrote a love letter to her neighbor.
Mother: No. Its to my son, she’s only using my neighbor to cover up.
Me: Aunty please…..
Class teacher: shut up. kneel down there.

The girl I sent was crying, she looked like she had been beaten and denied food the previous day.
Me: aunty please it is not a love letter.
Class teacher: but you wrote I love you in it.

While she was talking my headmaster came up meet us, obviously he had skipped the assembly to address the ‘9 year old Lesbian’.
*Slap* *Slap*
‘So u want to give our school a bad name
I barely heard him sef, my head was ringing. I had been trying to hold the tears, but they started falling freely. By the time the assembly was over, half of the senior teachers rushed over to where I was. After much ado, I was finally released. Even in class, my classmates kept looking at me like a foreign specimen. I could read what was in their minds; The Fat, 9 year old Yellow pawpaw Lesbian. I never mentioned it to my family. But I noted one thing: I love you brought a series of reactions with it.

“We never said I love you in my house, so the first time my mom told me I love you over the phone, I almost choked on my tongue. She kept on saying it till I got used to it. (so that when boys come I’ll be like Hunh! My mom loves me too’ :p)

“The first and only time I told my Father I love you, he started stuttering and then quickly hung up.
And just recently I sent I love yous to a couple of people including my brother. (oh, u ppl thot twas my luv confession. Shio. Mtcheew)

My brothers reaction? He said; ‘lool, I love you too. What’s the matter?
He prolly thot I was going to beg him to lend me money. Lolz.
The general reaction was surprise, oh! She loves me. and then Why do u love me. What makes you think you love me?
Finally someone said ‘Well, I love you too. But I’m not in Love with you

Eureka! That’s my point, you don’t have to be in love with a person to love them. When I wrote that letter, I was trying to express something deeper than words. And I love you has been so restricted to sexual discussions that its eating into our society and attitude. I wonder what a 9 year old would know about lesbianism or falling in love *rolling my eyes*, but they taught I was one because of the letter.

Love is something that is larger than we really know, its a form of existence. An expression of that which words cannot describe. But you have to first love yourself, before you can see the good in others and then love them too. I’m not saying love is easy, of course love hurts, because many times those we love do not love in return. Because sometimes humans capitalize on the fact that you love them to hurt you. Because some humans are just emotionally shortsighted or blind that they do not see. Love is you. That is one of the things that makes gods different from humans. Their knowledge of the potency of love and their ability to use the love or lack of love in you for positive or negative actions.

“Sometimes, some people just need to be shown a little love to do the right thing, to make the right decisions. Love is not about what a person has to offer you, love is on the inside. That which you see in a person. Unity in love can overcome; hatred, War, Sorrow and even indifference. After all, Love Conquers All. No matter how difficult, show an extra bit of love today. Just a tiny weeny bit. Love can be shown in different ways; just a little bit of attention, a smile, a piece of advice, sometimes shutting up for someone to talk to can help, letting others know you’re there for them. Sending text messages to family.

“Someone told me once; ‘Must you be everybody’s friend?‘. Sad but true, even in this age of IDGAF, I still try to be soooooo Nice. So even though a lot of people can mistake niceness for something else, its still good to try. Nevertheless, when humans get extremely annoying, its best to ignore them and get on with life.
Bless You again brethren. :* I Love You.
— ___ — ___ — ___—___—___—___—___—___—___—
Amir: did the slaps pain? ¯\..(•͡.̮ •͡ )../¯
Terdoh: I like your headmaster.
Lade: awww sorry. Love you too
Bla bla bla.
Me: I have just one word to say ; Schadenfreude

“On your way out tho: my gateman would be giving out a piece of yo mammas hug and wraps of Moin Moin as an expression of love from @Moin_Moin. Who said gangsters don’t show luv.

And don’t forget to follow this blog. Just by clicking the 2 small boxes below when you want to drop a comment. Ciao!


Hey Hola reader!*sits on stage* I refuse to admit that I’m eating Moin-Moin from a foil, but I’m doing it. Its Awful though, the taste. I don’t even get why I’m doing it…… Mtcheew. Water please!!!.

Here goes…….. I could easily come on here and write about something else, I could crack a dry joke and make my readers laugh at my stupidity and not the joke. Nevertheless I decided to do this, it could pass as a sequel to My Post: The Complexities of life: Here. I have had it for a long time, but I couldn’t find the right words to complete it. Its not perfect, but these are words of wisdom. Read with Care.

Generally, I have learnt some things about life. Well, NO I’m not perfect and I do not have all of earth’s knowledge. But then………..

in life, you’ll meet those who are Arrogant, learn to defend yourself.

you’ll meet those who seem Beautiful, never think of yourself as less.

you’ll meet people with different Characters, remember one thing, be very original.

you’ll meet people who are Deceitful, the solution-be the definition of truth.

your Enemy is not he whom you hate, he is the one you admire.

there are some who will always be Faithful, be good to them too.

you’ll meet the overly Generous, learn when to give in return.

Humans are filled with the Haughty, know how to be indifferent.

sometimes you will meet the Ignorant, teach them when you can.

in life you don’t always find justice, get used to that.
sadly, there are some called Killjoy, remember that happiness is the easiest thing to find.

if you seek for Love, you might get Lust, your heart will teach you good from bad if you are willing.

Money is your greatest friend, all you have to do is work hard.

Never say Never.

Opportunity sometimes comes in through the back door, so try to leave both doors open.

Peace is difficult to keep. It is your personal definition of what gives you satisfaction, guard it jealously.

if you want to be treated like a Queen, you have to act like one. And same goes for Kings.

Rising to fulfillment is different from rising to fame.

Shut Up! Not always though, but do more listening than talking. That way you learn better.

your Talent will bring you before men of great importance, develop it.

the aim of living is not just being the Ultimate, it is living to the Ultimate.

Vanity upon vanity, Life is Vanity. And if you want to know how Vain life is, go here too.

In every competition, strive to Win. And if you cannot, learn from the Winner.

X is a symbol of multiplication, increase your knowledge in every dimension. Learn to learn.

Your life is about You and your creator. No other. Pay no attention to busy tongues.

Zip, Zero, Zilch. You came to earth with nothing. You are leaving with nothing.

*wipes hands on jeans* Yes and btw, This is not how to be a gangster, I just wanted to play with your heads… Mortals. I’ll love to read what you think, so hit the comment box and click on the two boxes below; For when I reply you. Ciao? Yes Bye.


hello y’all. I missed you all, or let’s say I missed blogging. School has been hectic. As subsidy waka pass, na by exam things.
Did you notice that the first word I wrote started with a small letter? Odeh! I know you were rushing to read why I hate my school. Mtcheew. Why I hate my school?, I’ve been writing exams for almost a month and its still not finished, that’s like 6weeks to write 7exams. And today they just shifted my Anatomy exam. Well maybe I should be jumping for joy, but I’ve not slept in 3days. I’ve been reading like I was chased……… Plus my 2nd semester lectures have started. And all these means no holiday for me. Why always me? ¯\..(•͡.̮ •͡ )../¯ I wonder why the system is like this. Mtcheew. But I still hate my school.

That’s my excuse for not putting any post up since February. Geez! A lot of people have been asking why I’ve not written. Its not that I’m not writing, its that I’m writing school work. Pardon Me. So GUEST WRITERS ARE NEEDED. I’m more into stories, FUNNY stories. Not just stories, posts that are funny. Not to worry, gbagauns are allowed. (Amir I see you). I’m going to put up the part two of ‘NIGHT TIME IS FOR PROWLING’ soon. That’s the last part, so relax.
By the way(and by the bush, for those of you who live in dilapidated areas-Wana’s sub), its not just about the stories. Poems are included too. 2nd semester has started and I foresee another hectic 3.5 months, so I’ll need all hands/hoofs on deck.

I’m boring, I know. I should stop ,I know too. I know. And I hate you too. :p. Okay, in my most serious mood now. I promise to try my best to post at least once a week. Emphasis on least. I missed those who missed me. For those who didn’t; Who are you? Mtcheew Plebeian.

This is not an apology. As a god, I don’t owe you mortals anything. Plus did I cry up there?, your eyes should be cleaned out bruv. Any gbagauns? Eff it mehn. 😐

This can pass for a post right? right? Or are you still waiting for the punchline? Hahaha. In JussBasco’s voice ‘You can’t be serious’.

Moral of this post:
I AM BORED. I want to sub you, but there’s nothing to write.(I just did)