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


I don’t know how to start this, just know its a story.
As I’ve always said about my stories, this is fiction. None of the characters is real either. So if it looks like the story of your life, then I should probably open a fortune telling stall. (Oh Eff all of that).
Just read the story, and then tell me what you think. Thanks.
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I belong to the group of people who believe that night time was originally created for fun (before Adam and Eve spoilt everything :-|). When I say fun, I don’t mean sexual activities. Fun could include hanging out, seeing movies, partying and the sort. But whenever I remember last night’s events, I have to denounce my beliefs.

‘So what time will you be back?’ my kid sister had been drilling me since I started preparing to go out.

‘Sweetie, I don’t know, just make sure your phone is beside you so that you’ll come to open the kitchen door when I call you’, I smiled at her.

After wearing a really short gown, I proceeded to wear a very long night gown. The hand-bag containing my shoes and make up was outside the house already. I locked the door to my room and went to bid mom and dad good-night. They were so wrapped up in their conversation; they didn’t notice when I sneaked out to my friend’s waiting car (not that they were supposed to notice). I pulled off my night gown and proceeded to make up.

The friend in question is a girl, and we going on a girls’ night out. The details of our hang out aren’t important though. Just know that we had so much fun; we didn’t know we we’re being followed when we left the club.

We were half way into the journey back home when a car drove past and blocked us.

‘Get down!‘ our assailant barked at us. ‘Yepa!’ was the only thing that came to my mind. I tried to peep at his face, but he was wearing a mask and holding a knife that reminded me of one of the meat knives back at home.

We dropped our phones without his asking, hoping he’ll leave us alone. But he had just started.

First he asked us to frog-jump for some minutes. Weird right? I still wonder why.

Afterwards he asked us our names, details and what we were doing out at that time. We were so scared; we couldn’t lie. All the while he was recording the proceedings with a camera phone.

Next, he asked us to dance to the popular song ‘Windeck’. The only problem was there was no music; it was supposed to be playing in our heads.
Do you know how it feels to dance without music? I’m sure we looked like idiots.

I started dancing first, and by the time my friend Chisom joined me, tears were freely falling from my eyes.
‘Please now, we’re sorry’, I pleaded. Funniest thing was I didn’t even know what it was we were supposed to have done wrong.
No Comment.
‘Please sir, we’re sorry. Its getting late, our parents don’t know we left the house.’
Our pleas fell on deaf ears; we just kept dancing to unheard music and were terrified of the knife gleaming in his hands.

Our begging took a different dimension after fifteen minutes of uninterrupted dancing:
‘Chineke, I swear I’ll never sneak out again,’ Chisom said.
I continued with: ‘in fact, I won’t go for any party till my wedding…’
‘Me, till I die,’ Chisom interjected.

Okay, so I know you’re probably laughing at us, but it wasn’t funny then. Our phonetic intonations gradually turned to Nigerian Pidgin.

‘E don be for us o!’ I kept jerking my waist. Even our captor started laughing.

I think we would have run away, but for the fact that Chisom’s mom’s car was there.
‘Okay, I’ll release you,’ he finally said after close to thirty minutes.
‘Eh!! Thank you,’ we chorused.
‘Quiet!’ he snapped.
‘Sorry sir, we’re very….’
‘But before you go, you’ll write undertaking never to sneak out again,’ he ended.

That had to be the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard, but I couldn’t even object. We nodded in agreement. From his back pocket, he brought out a note-pad for us to write. With shaking hands, we faithfully wrote. I wouldn’t know what Chisom wrote, but here’s a copy of mine:-

‘I; Juliet,promise never ever, in my entire existence to sneak out or fly out or fence out of my house for a late night trip – sorry; I mean night clubbing. If I do, let this be brought as evidence against me.’
And I signed afterwards.

Please ignore the grammatical errors. I was scared shitless. I couldn’t give a hoot about English.

He finally let us go and didn’t even take our phones. We stayed on the ground; where he’d instructed us to lie until he had driven far away. My senses finally came alive; I remember smelling urine. I think I peed in my panties.. We were both speechless on the ride home. I soundlessly climbed over the fence and my sister came to open the door as planned.

The Morning After…
“Who was even that idiot?” Chisom could not get the incident off her mind.

I assumed that the question wasn’t for me, so I ignored it.

We were alone in her family house, her parents had travelled the previous day (that’s how we got access to the car); and her elder brother Junior had gone out with friends.

“Please where is the Dan Brown novel you promised to give me?” I made an attempt at changing the subject.

“It should be on Junior’s table,” she said; still sulking.

I managed to drag her down to her brother’s room where we both searched for the novel. It was I who the first evidence…the note pad; before she spotted the pair of big red sneakers which we had been forced to stare at last night.

I looked at Chisom and I could guess that the same question was on her mind; ‘was it junior who harassed us last night?’

Watch out for the sequel to this, where we would go on a hunt for our………………….
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Once again, I took your precious time, by making you read this endless story. :D, but don’t worry, the 2nd part is coming soon. Let’s hope my story ends there, because I’m also :S about all of this.

Moral of The Story:
Why always me? 😥

This short story was written by @homeschooldnerd. If you liked it, scroll down to drop a comment. If you did not enjoy it, do the same. Gracias.



@homeschooldnerd walks into protest hall, as noisy as a market place. Mtcheew! She picks gavel and hits it hard on the table(yes table). Everybody turns in surprise, and 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, here is my speech…….

Good morning y’all. I’m saying these cos I’m sick and tired of seeing dumb pictures/comments and jokes of Mister President and this Subsidy Ish. Oh and by the way. Good afternoon or evening to the potential late comers.

If u ask an average Nigerian ‘What is Subsidy?‘ The answer would be something close to: ‘Its what we want our president to return to its rightful place‘. Then they would proceed to tell you how selfish and corrupt our leaders are and why we must protest. And in case u didn’t get what I was implying, then you’re just as ignorant. That is obviously not the definition of subsidy. And I won’t tell you, google it.
Let me cut the crap, straight to the point.
————– ————- ———— ————- ————- ———–

By now, you probably think I’m pro-subsidy. I’m not, infact I’m just sitting on the fence watching the two sides. But I have issues with some of the anti-subsidy ppl. You don’t know what you’re fighting against, you’re totally ignorant about the issue, so why are you fighting?
You know, I hear people say our government is selfish, okay agreed, they are. But what about you? How selfless are you? Your everyday life is a just series of selfish actions and then you open your mouth to say our government is selfish. How won’t they be? When majority of the people they serve are selfish too.

Before you point fingers, make sure your hands are clean, because when you point, 3 fingers are directed towards you. I’m not saying removal of subsidy is right (sigh), all I’m saying is that the change begins with you. Its an individual thing, learn to stand for the right thing is your own little world. You might not be caught doing bad, but one day it will all come caving in on you.

#occupyNigeria is not all words, but real and positive action. I hear some ppl get drunk at protest grounds, and use it as an opportunity to showcase their irresponsible behavior. Thumbs up, GEJ will listen to you, you hear? Just wait. :-/ idiots.

I know some few responsible people people who know what they are fighting for. Thumbs up to you guys, may the lord Strengthen you.

But then, I know many irresponsible people who don’t know what they are fighting for. All they do is Merde. You know yourselves, Its either you sit your asses down at home and let the elders work or you educate yourselves. Don’t worry, God will make you bigger.

‘Nuff said. Drops Mic.

Posted by @homeschooldnerd.


Hey… @OluwaWanaBaba here.

For those of you guys who read the Girl Code on here and are feeling aggrieved/angered, not to worry. I have brought our own set of rules, called the Bro Code.

First of all, I have to define what a Bro is. A Bro is any guy that has complied with the Bro Code and has obeyed majority of the rules written within.

Warning: Not every guy is your Bro. If you bring a hot chick home and your elder brother tries to poach her from you, he is not your Bro. If your friend knows you’re hungry, and still takes the last moin-moin in the fridge, he is definitely not your Bro.

In some special cases, a girl can be regarded as a bro. If she hooks you up with her busty friends, then she’s a bro. And if she still hooks you up with more even if you didn’t call the last one after, she’s definitely a good bro.

So, the code… All ladies can like to close their browsers now… I won’t be responsible for any eye damages.

CODE 001: The very fundamental rule. Bros before hoes. Never stand a bro up for a girl. Never stop playing video games with your bros because a girl called. Never. Never. Never.

CODE 002: You are never to let a female, who doesn’t qualify as a bro, to know about the existence of the Code. You are never to divulge it contents to them. The punishment for disobeying this rule exile of bro-dom for at least 6 weeks.

CODE 003: You’re are only allowed to do something stupid when all your bros are doing it. If your bros are using cutlery to eat Moin-moin, do not use your fucking hand.

CODE 004: While chatting or on any social network with your bros, it is forbidden to use the following smileys —–> :* ;;) ❤ ({})

CODE 005: Two bros shall never drink Ice-cream from the same Cup. Don't allow the devil to use you.

CODE 006: It is highly forbidden to be sexually attracted to another guy, bro or not. Being gay is grave sin, and the punishment is the swapping of your eyes and your testicles. Eyes to your scrotum, testicles to the eye socket.

CODE 007: You are never to dance with your hands above your head. You're a bro, not a booty shaker at Rehab or Tribeca.

CODE 008: A Bro shall never sleep with another Bro's sister. It is okay to compliment a Bro about is sister, but kpanshing her is a gross violation of our code.

CODE 009: Even in a fight to death, a Bro never punches/kicks another Bro in the groin. Never. That's just plain evil.

CODE 010: Under no circumstances shall two Bros share an umbrella. That level of proximity is not allowed.

CODE 011: A Bro must request written permission from another Bro before he can hit on that Bro's Ex. Should the Bro refuse, you are banned from seeing her forever.

CODE 012: A Bro is not required to buy birthday gifts for another Bro. That he remembered the day alone is enough.

CODE 013: A Bro never lets another Bro wear skinny jeans or jeggings or whatever they are called. Never. Slap him if required to get him back to his senses.

CODE 014: A Bro is never allowed to compliment another guy's body.

CODE 015: Never allow a telephone conversation with a girl to last longer than it takes to have sex with her.

CODE 016: A Bro shall never watch the following programs on TV: Figure skating, Men's gymnastics and any sport involving women (except viewed for sexual purposes.)

CODE 017: A Bro shall never spend more than two minutes in front of the mirror. If more time is needed, there shall be a three-minute waiting period before returning back to the mirror.

CODE 018: Taylor Swift? Never. Never Ever.

CODE 019: A Bro is only allowed to cry when:
1. A heroic dog dies trying to save it's master.
2. After being hit in the testicles with anything moving faster than 7 miles per hour.
3. While/After watching 3 Idiots.
4. When Karen Igho gets married.

CODE 020: Under no circumstances shall two unrelated Bros share a bed or anything that can be conceived as a mattress.

CODE 021: A Bro is never to use the word "Ouch." Feel free to use the Rick Ross grunt or the Ibadan scream of "Yeeeee!" when in times of pain.

CODE 022: A Bro is never allowed to wear pink. Not even to the bathroom.

CODE 023: When asked "Do you need some help?", A bro must automatically respond "No, thanks." Except when he's carrying an expensive television or a cooler of Moin-moin.

CODE 024: A Bro never spell-checks. Gbagauning is a manly attribute.

CODE 025: It is not permitted for a Bro to cuddle with a girl, except if the girl in question is, at least, an 8.

CODE 026: A Bro must never make fun of another Bro's height.

CODE 027: Bros don't speak French to each other. French is the most romantic language on Earth, and thus cannot be used between Bros.

CODE 028: A Bro is never a vegetarian. Veggies are for pussies.

CODE 029: When 3 Bros have to sit down at back seat of a car, it is forbidden for one of them to put his hands on another's shoulder to create space.

CODE 030: When dancing on the same floor, two bros must maintain a 3-foot distance between themselves.

These and a host of others are the rules guiding your life as a bro. Except where punishment is stated, the offending bro is going to be de-broed for 24 hours, within which he shall not participate in any of the group's activities, and shall be referred to as "Princess".

Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.


No. I’m not going to cry.
Yes. I mean I’m going to try.
Mixed Feelings, 2011 and me.
Of all I learnt to be.
I learnt how to be me.
I learnt to open my eyes and see.

So everybody has a story to write for you, but I’m doing this as a tribute to you dear 2011. As you lie on your death bed, all I can say is thank you.

I wanted to ignore the fact that you were going, but my frail heart wouldn’t let that happen.

This is the most spontaneous I ever did this year. To write at the touch of my keypads.

2011 promoted me. It opened my eyes to new meanings to the world. It gave me struggles and showed me that I’m limitless.

It blessed me with New friends, deeper reflections. Furthermore, this was the year I put my all into writing. Despite the odds and the no-time situations in School. This was the year I discovered I was poetically inclined. This year I learnt to believe in Me. In everything I did. The Mistakes, The Embarrassments, The Lovely times. My friend’s wedding. Learning how to be selfless for others.

I really hope no one gets to read this. The thoughts of me with Mixed feelings are nothing good for your intellect. Its only for 2011.

Finally. I’m at peace. I can let you go without regrets.

Its Twelve… So HAPPY NEW YEAR mi Amigos.


The author of this post is @homeschooldnerd, with support from a lot of other females.

It is amazing that very few girls know of the existence of these ‘codes’. For years we have heard of the existence of the ‘BRO CODE’ and we’ve always wanted to know the female version. Well these are the Girl Codes, compiled and written by me, but the knowledge was actually passed down by the Female Muses who hold the secrets to Girlville.

Let me digress, “Otondo!, you think I don’t know you’re reading this? Yes You, Mr Man go and read your bro code or something.. (Ladies please do not read it). Especially @Rinolee. Close your eyes. Why? Because…. @Nawtie_khristi steps in… ‘Because my bestfriend said so’. Yea, this is a code for friends and besties. So guys please take a walk or something. I can predict that this post will annoy you, really I couldn’t be bothered.

@Phumbie;… Missy, we’re still waiting o.
@Buxxy;… Gosh, I’m bored.
Me: oh sorry.

Girl Code

From today, go by the Scared and Secret watchwords; Sisters over Misters. Chicks over Dicks(i prefer this).
Lets go into inner rooms. Shhh, quiet girls! I know y’all are so excited, but listen to everything so carefully and pass it on to your coming generations.

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Girl Code 001:
Every code is subject to exceptions. Yes, I said so.

Girl Code 002:
Respect girl time. Whenever you’re currently dating or seeing a guy, find time for your girlfriends. Remember they will always be there for you.

Girl Code 003:
No matter what, a girl should always smell good.

Girl Code 004:
In respect to 003 above, no girl should knowingly wear the same perfume as her friend on the same day or at the same occasion.

Girl Code 005:
Girls be chased, dot chase. But once in a while, some guys need a little motive to make a move. 😉

Girl Code 006:
Whoever saw the guy first gets to date him. If you see him at the same time, then whoever gets to speak to him first gets to date him. Except of course if she’s not interested.

Girl Code 007:
If you don’t like him, tell him sweetly but openly that you do not like him. Don’t deceive him or give him hope.

Girl Code 008:
Never ever, for any reason date your Bestfriend’s ex. (If you’ve done it before, never again).

Girl Code 009:
Never date your bestfriend’s brother.(My bestfriend’s bro once asked me out. And even though she said its okay, I declined). Please its a No No.

Girl Code 010:
Never date your sisters ex. Older or Younger. Just don’t.

Girl Code 011:
Never date your ex again. Remember the reason you broke up with him in the first place.

Girl Code 012:
A girl should wait One day and a half before calling a guy. That is 36hrs. Plus don’t sound breathless on d phone, like you couldn’t wait.

Girl Code 013:
Your thongs(panties) shouldn’t stick out of your pants. And if your friend happens to do it unnecessarily, correct the mistake in the least obvious way.

Girl Code 014:
Never choose a guy over your friend. Never! Except of course if she’s a two-timing back stabbing baich.

Girl Code 015:
Respect yourself first, remember that you’re special and should be treated as such. Don’t let any guy (or girl) push you around. No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.

Girl Code 016:
Never let your friend leave the house looking hideous. Do not insult her, but tell her stuff like ‘Sweetie, I think I you need a little bit of lipstick on’.

Girl Code 017:
When someone is talking bad about your friend, stick up for her. This is very important. You don’t know when the tables will turn.

Girl Code 018:
Find a best friend who shares the same enemy with you.

Girl Code 019:
Never settle for less than the best when it comes to guys. But remember that the best isn’t perfection. Dot expect too much, but go for he who is most compatible with you.

Girl Code 020:
Do not keep a man guessing for too long. Very soon he’ll find out from someone else.

Girl Code 021:
Boys aren’t worth your tears.

Girl Code 022:
Never steal from your friend. So when borrowing, do it with permission and return it upon your next meeting.

Girl Code 023:
Girls never pay for anything. Ever! Except when he explains the situation to you and when you’re giving a gift.

Girl Code 024:
Steer clear of guys in relationships. Respect her, even if you do not know her. (don’t forget Code 001 though)

Girl Code 025:
Don’t go against the girl code.

Girl Code 026:
Never tell a guy of the existence of the Girl code or of its contents.

Girl Code 027:
When your friend is drunk, never allow her to leave with a random guy.

Girl Code 028:
Don’t diss your friend’s boyfriend. Even if they are having problems, remember that they can still come back together and she will remember all that you said about him.

Girl Code 029:
You have the right to ‘unknowingly’ spill a drink on any girl wearing the same dress as you. But you shouldn’t even be caught wearing the same as another girl, except you planned it with her.

Girl Code 030:
Arms are for hugging. Boys are for kissing. Sluts are for dissing. Best Friends are for when your boyfriend disses you for the slut and you need a hug.

Girl Code 031:
Never tell another girl’s secrets, except to another girl who you’re way closer to.

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So, that is it for the Girl Codes. Hope you loved them and will always go by them. Please if you loved this post or you have any contribution, go below this post and comment.

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In The Spirit of Christmas…

So I know most of you are expecting to see another story about a Journey and a Gateman. Sorry dears, this dry one is for Christmas. You have a chance to stop reading now though.

Everybody is happy, but em this is an Alert. January is just 7days away. Remember January, the brokest Month of the year. Time to start saving for the rainy days huh?

So, In the spirit of Christmas, I’ll be giving out some tips on how to gather manna/money for next year.
For the girls, I know you think you can always get money from your boyfriends. Sorry for you. I read @Terdoh’s post yesterday, telling guys how to avoid girls from now till March(after Valentine). I tell you guys are not smiling, even mine has gone AWOL..
But wait o, smile na, there’s still hope. When last did you go to see that Uncle/that Aunt. Well, the best time to find them at home is early in the morning. Dont stay for too long, and dont forget to add that you’re going to the boutique straight from their house.

For the guys who will try this above, dont eat anything in their house. Long throats, dont fall for that trick o. Just remember that if you dont eat, they’ll feel obliged to settle you for Christmas.

Yea, I almost forgot.. Dont forget to smile when your parents friends come around. Smile real hard, like you’re telling them thank you in advance for your Christmas gift.

And Specially for the guys who like to hang out. Kindly drop the cash at home, take fuel money and drive straight to your friends house. Dont forget that your friend, whose popsy is throwing Christmas party. Yes dear, drinks are for free there. And please avoid every girl, collect her number but call her beginning of March. If they refuse to leave you still, just keep boning. If she asks you whats wrong, tell her ‘Nothing, I’m just referencing the REASON for the Season’. Dont say I didnt warn you.

Em Girls dont forget to hype the amount of money to collect for your hair. If your folks complain, just smile and say “Its in the spirit of Christmas”.

POST-SCRIPT: Strictly for girls though.
A lil birdie told me that you can just walk up to the house of a popular man and claim your uncle used to live there. But pls observe these rules:
1. Make sure you hang around until his car is coming in or going out.(coming in is better tho).
2. Ensure his wife doesn’t catch you. I pity you if she does tho(dear dumb girls).
3. Make sure you’ve not slept with his Gateman before. (Shame no go gree you)
4. When you meet him, keep crying and say you travelled all the way from ‘somewhere’ to see your ‘Uncle’, whose address is his house. In the Spirit of Christmas, may he reward you. {Ugly girls dont try this Please- Rich men are allergic to Your specie}.

I hope I didnt bore you. x_x. Thank me in January. There’s still a lot of other tips, but I’m keeping it till next Christmas if he tarries.

Specially dedicated to all my friends, followers, @christy @Rinolee, @Myk_hel(i see U boo), J3throvic, straight twisted U, Zubair, Terdoo, Wana, Jeff. The list is endless. Gracias Mi amorcitos. Thanks for making my 2011 wonderful, lets do this again next year.


There’s some beautiful music I heard TODAY.
I shook my ‘toys’ subtly as I started to PLAY.
My lips gently let out shouts of gibberish ‘HOORAY’.
My legs also joined in meaningless FORAY.

There’s some beautiful music that drifted to ME. It was filled with sadness and pain and TEArs.
It opened my hearts eyes to SEE.
It sang My insecurities, my greatest FEArs.

There’s some beautiful music I sang ALOUD.
I mimicked Bass and Tenor though I’m ALto.
I sat alone under a clear sky and a single CLOUD.
My left days are void of happiness or SORRow.

There’s some beautiful music I shared to the WORLD.
My hearts funny fantasies I sang OUt.
I sang till my I gradually went BALD.
I sang till I grew from tall to STOUt.

There’s some beautiful music…. I sang till I AGED.
I sang against all of life’s STRIfe
Beautiful beautiful music…. I sang till I got SAGED.
Music holds the key to long LIfe.


A stamp of his feet &the mice start SCURRYING.
Even my heart itself starts its own RACING.
I bend my head over my book like I’m READING.
I dont want our eyes to meet while he’s STARING.
In his right hand, his whip he’s CARRYING.
Ready to strike across d desk of any caught SLEEPING.

I take a little PEEK,
in his eyes I SEEK,
the giant brain that makes him TICK,
that squeals wen I play a TRICK.
His shoulders broad and THICK,
with those biceps of which I’m love SICK.

Dont get a funny IDEA,
he’s not my crush or LOVER,
he’s my FATHER,
checking in at study HOUR.

After resting to the fullest, we all went into the bus for the last lap of the journey. The guy beside Luma immediately put his head down to sleep. Well personally, I think he was faking it but I don’t blame him, he must have been tired of listening to her many grammatical errors. Behind me, I was hearing the most horrible noises coming from Mr. O.P’s mouth. Yours truly almost cried. If not that this is Nigeria, I would have sued him for… erm… Well I dont know what I would have sued him for.

One by one, the passengers reached their destinations, the guy beside Luma went away. Two guys sitting behind us and a Lady with her daughter in front of us were the only ones left. Lumacinda tried facing me again, but I intentionally turned my face in the opposite direction towards the window. Na by force? She was still on page 126. See this girl wey dey try form. Mtcheew. Smh.

I didn’t really know when we got to Enugu. I’d never been there, but I’ve heard stories. Stories of stealing, kidnapping, and what have you. The driver eased the car into the Motor park and ordered the remaining passengers to “drop here, last bus stop” !!!

You should have seen yours truly clutching her handbag like her heart was in it. I’m sure I looked like a fool, not knowing that the crime rate had been overrated. I went behind the bus to get my traveling bag and promptly sent my uncle a text to tell him where exactly I was in the park. Luma walked up to me to tell me bye. She asked for my number. And I tried to give her my best scowl. I told her ‘no homo’. But she was looking at me with such awe like I had just spoken in tongues. I finally collected hers and told her that I’ll ‘try’ to call. My uncle called to give me directions as to where the car was. As your girl was struggling with her bags, (including the one on my chest), while making my way out of the motor park, Mr O. P suddenly appeared out of nowhere. ‘Beby’ he said with thick Igbo accent, ‘I wanna have a word wita ya’. ‘I hav been admiring U, infact all those songs I was singing were for U’. I couldn’t take it any longer, all the irritation suddenly came to the fore.
‘Bami ri Oloriburuku yi o, Iru oro rada rada lon tie bami so ? Koni da fun aye yin (what is this good for nothing man telling me, it wont be well with your life)’. Not minding the fact that he probably doesn’t understand Yoruba. I continued wit my Obscenities. Now looking back, I’m asking God for forgiveness. The next thing I did was to physically push him out of my way. I stormed off in anger forgetting that I was to meet my uncle. The People who had been watching the scene started laughing. I felt so stupid to be the center of their attraction.

‘NMA….’ I faintly heard my Uncle call my name from a distance. I was brought back to reality. I’m too big to be running for joy now, so I just curtsied with my knees almost touching the ground in the Yoruba way. He asked… ‘Omalicha how was your journey ? ‘. If only he knew !!! ‘Funnily fine’,I said. He looked at me with a confused expression and helped me carry my traveling bag into the back seat and we drove home.

On getting home my cousins and my Aunt hugged me.
We had all missed ourselves. They had been living in Ibadan before their dad was transferred to Enugu. I brought out the galas, cashew nuts, Ijebu garri and what-nots i brought for them. When I thought the excitement was over, my cousins went off again. ‘Martins is back o’. “Who’s Martins ?’ I asked them. ‘Our gateman’,they replied. Then i heard a knock, and a ‘Good evening Madam’. On looking up, guess who I saw ? Ghen Ghen! My mouth automatically formed letter O. Mr O. P was their gateman !!! ….. TROUBLE.. This is where I get to end this story, the matter for ground, e too heavy for my pen.

Moral of this Story: There is no peace for the wicked. Don’t ask me If I’m the wicked person here. Just keep it in mind that a stubborn gateman means no sneaking in after late night parties, no bribery and corruption. X_x. Be nice to others (like me) , so that they’ll be nice to You.

Like the typical Nigerian movie, I also have a part two. Tell me you are not surprised, because that is normal in Nigeria just like power outages. Just sit back and enjoy.

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We moved on after the conversation. By then Ibadan was far behind and the road was free. We occasionaly ran into other buses and their names were hilarious. From Obiageri to ólisadebe e.t.c. We encountered Police checkpoints every Fifteen minutes and it slowed our journey down. One Coke, Two Galas and Five calls from my Dad was all i had into the journey. One pregnant woman said ”Driver,abeg I wan piss” and there was no response. “Driver, abeg stop make i piss” and again there was no response. “Driver,you better stop before I use my big belle knock you down”. “Woman,what is your problem, àbi na me impregnate U ? ” , the driver replied. ”wish kain talk be that,who go marry fat driver like you’’. And so the Trouble started. A became the mediator and tried my best to pacify both parties without taking sides. I reassured the woman saying “Don’t worry ma,we’ll soon get to Benin-Ore road and you wont need permission to go down”.

Like Nostradamus ,we got to Benin-Ore road and there was a terrible holdup. Typical Nigerians, hawkers exploited it to the fullest. Bus drivers got down and started conversing. I turned my attention to the young lady beside me “Emm…,excuse me, can I see the book you are reading”. She handed it to me. I asked “so what’s it about”. The girl spoke in a very thick Igbo accent. “Well, I just start,so i have not understand it much”. Guess what, she was on Page 126 ! I tried to go back to my own book,but she wont let me. “what is your name”, she asked.. “Lucinda”, I replied. Now don’t get me wrong, Yours truly doesn’t like lying, but she has different names for different occasions. “ Really mine is Lumacinda”. I tried cutting her off,but she was relentless. She told me of her trips abroad and how she had met white people. I soon found out that the ‘abroad’ is our own Abuja. I think these ‘white peeps’ are probably albinos. Shuo, See village gal oh.. I just kept on nodding and smiling while listening to M.I’s Teaser. After all, na me ask for trouble.

The hold up was cleared Two hours later but Luma was still babbling. I was tired by then, so I stylishly dozed off with a smile on my face. I woke up Thirty minutes later to find her talking to the guy beside her. Talk about unleashing her potentials. Soon we got to Benin and the pregnant woman got off but for me, the journey continued. “Nzobu Enyimba Eyim”. O.P. sang tirelessly as though he just realized that he hadn’t said anything in Six hours. By then, my dad had called several times to know my whereabouts. I’m sure he was mentally drawing a map of my trip back at home. We drove on with Mr. O.P. singing and Miss Lumacinda chatting incessantly. Of course yours truly is not the quiet type but it was funny watching other people show their talents.

We finally got to Onitsha, where we cooled off a bit. “Don’t go too far,I’m taking off soon”, the driver barked. I sat back in the bus but the driver came over and shouted “Madam, get down na”. Imagine the insult ! Me ? MADAM ?.. No be your fault Oloshi ! I eased myself and bought some snacks. I couldn’t buy bread because their names were simply outrageous !

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I’m sorry but this means there’ll be a third part. I promise its going to be the last.
Bye !!!