Archive for the ‘Memoirs’ Category


Driving School

There are some things that are either done too early or too late. One of those things is learning how to drive.

Tried to join a driving school the other day.

Me whenever a colleague throws me the keys and says 'You're driving today'

Me whenever a colleague throws me the keys and says ‘You’re driving today’

Bee Driving School

Every weekend, I wear shorts and slippers. A friend made the mistake of inviting me to a wedding once, and I stepped in like that. There’s just something totally liberating about wearing shorts without briefs and slippers without socks so your body can breathe.


Anyways, I went to Bee Driving school in my knickers and bathroom slippers and the Instructor said:

‘Just bring fifteen thousand naira, I will teach you how to be a good company driver. I will teach you how to behave in interview so that they will collect you’

I quickly brought out my GALAXY S4 and said in a very polished accent, ‘I only want to learn how to drive automatic’

This time, he hit my shoulder for emphasis, ‘As a good company driver, you mustu know how to drive both automatic and manual. That’s what will make you be a Chosen: your Oga will like you, and start insisting that only this boy must drive me!’

My facial expression as he continues referring to me as a driver

My facial expression as he continues referring to me as a driver

I left.

A-M Driving School

The Instructor was real nice and respectful. Called me ‘fine boy’ which is a compliment that really gets to me so I signed up.

First driving lesson: instructor told me to reverse and I put the car in Drive instead, next thing I heard was ‘Se ode ni e ni? You blind?’

‘Don’t insult me sir. I paid for this driving lesson, you’re not doing it for free!’

‘Wetin be insult for there? You pay to learn how to Drive, you no pay learn Reverse! Na me just dey help you. Your money no include learn Reverse’

See, that’s how driving school continued o: three weeks of abuses.

Me after every driving school class

Me after every driving school class

Only joy was on last Saturday of driving School, my Instructor bashed the car. Me and him looked at each other after the accident and in that glance, we passed an irrefutable truth that ‘Nobody holy pass’.


Car Owner. Day One.

I set out. My maiguard looks at me with renewed respect. I drive for some meters then I can’t see. I swear I can’t see. It’s like the Nigerian movies where a man buys a new car and as he is driving it, his village folks hit him with something. This is bad: I think of Simba, I think of you guys: who will blog for you now? Then I notice the windscreen is misty. I stop at the stall where I usually buy bread and beans and ask for a napkin. The windscreen is cleaned and the journey continues effortlessly.

I enter the Lekki Ajah expressway. I am happy to be here: to be with people who are driving to work. I am just happy to be one of them. I don’t even want to be popular on the road. I just want people to see me in the mall, in the office corridor and say ‘I saw you driving this morning’. I want to sit in the cafeteria and talk about leaking radiators and greedy mechanics. I am so happy to be one of the mobile people. I look at the many people at the Bus Stop as I pass. I want to drive close to the Bus Stop, stick my hand out of the car window and shake everyone as I pass. I’ve seen Davido do that at a concert before. Can’t I do that too? No? Okay. I continue driving.

Me first day in the car park

Me first day in the car park

Cos This Post Isn’t Random Enough:

Agbalumo reminds me of life. Whenever you bite into a globe of agbalumo, you can never tell whether it is going to be sweet, salty or sour. You also don’t know how many seeds you will find inside. Many times, I have bought a big agbalumo and been hard pressed to find two seeds inside. Other times, I have bought tiny agbalumos – for the road, just something to pass time in the traffic, something to chew on before the traffic light turns green. And in these small globes, I have found so many seeds that I thought of business ventures that could arise from agbalumo seeds like accessories, ear rings, car dashboard decorations – probably  childrens’ game that would come with many seeds of agbalumo that can be aimed at two to four players and the players would all have agbalumo shields. I think there is a lot of insight to be gained from agbalumos. Sometimes, you buy a spotless agbalumo with taut skin, a curved stem and sharply pointed peak and find a withered, dark red skin. Other times, I buy a spotted agbalumo with a weak peak, a gaping hole in place of a steam and inside I find milky goodness, fleshy innards and I know there is a God. Surely, it is not a matter of knowledge to select the perfect agbalumo, it’s God.

New Job?

Was in an interview the other day and they asked me my weakness, straight up told them ‘’I might be weak but in him, I am made strong’ [2 Corinthians 12:9]. I got the job. I’m serious!

It’s been a while and I missed this, and I’m talking too much, and I just gotta go!

Parting Shots:

(i)                  Been to the Lagos Polo Club? You should? Place is cool man: open air, cool breeze, horses grazing and racing and company so fresh, like see: they give tips in the toilet and the money remains there. Had to snap this for the family!


(ii)                Biko, if you can, buy this month’s copy of Y! Africa, that’s the magazine of Y Naija. They interviewed me on Page 15 as per my oncoming book launch and all.


(iii)         Listened to ‘Say Something’ by Christina Aguilera and A Great Big World. Soulful song. Indicate interest and I mail it to you, just like that!

We were in the cafeteria, and the conversation spun, from Manchester City’s win, where to get beer at pump price, who looked pregnant, to the feasibility of office crushes and finally to…Dads. Surprised?


E Go Show You Your Sin For Bible!

When you annoy my dad, he will bring out Bible and show you where you offend. He will show you your sin in the Bible and both of you will pray about it. After una don pray, you think the next thing is to hug and talk about how to further grow your spiritual lives ba? That’s when he will bring out the pankere – cane that bends but does not break – and almost claim your life with beating!

Feyi after the prayers!

Feyi after the prayers!


Wa rora ma mu ni o!

I remember first time my dad saw me drinking. We went to a wedding at some faraway town. When we got there, there was no water or juice. My dad  ordered beer, I was thirsty: I ordered beer too. I made sure to avoid eye contact. They brought his beer, cold and frothing. He poured and gulped.


They brought mine too, as I poured, I avoided eye contact. I could feel him staring me down though.

Immediately I brought the cup to my lips, I heard him bark, ‘Wa rora ma mu ni o!’ (You will gently drink it o/Drink with caution a.k.a Use soffry and be gulping the drink)

My dad after my first cup!

My dad after my first cup!

Immediately I finished the first cup, he took the remaining in the bottle and said ‘Ehn-ehn! O ti to’ (It’s enough/You have reached your limit/I will now take over from here/Kindly exit the building)

Guess who finished the remaining in the bottle? My dad 🙂


‘Would you like a taxi or the ferry?’

Back then, my dad had a girlfriend. Whenever we were headed to school, she would join us on the ferry. My dad would tell us to move to the backseat while she would sit beside him on the ferry. On the return trip in the evening, he would ask her, ‘Would you like to take a taxi or the ferry?’ (in British accent)

One day, we told our mum this.

In the evening, as she served him dinner, she leaned in and asked loudly in pseudo British accent, ‘Would you like to take a taxi or the ferry?’

My dad looked at us with what in later years I got to realize as the ‘Judas Stare’.

You let me down son!

You let me down son!

From that day onwards, we got no more ferry rides and thing is till date, we don’t know how they got to resolve that issue!


I Could Be Your Pasta Queen

My dad liked Spaghetti Bolognese, you know jollof pasta with minced meat and very visible green peppers ontop!


The secretary knew and brought him a cooler of this once in a while.

My mum got wind  of this somehow and the next week, we had  on Monday morning: pasta and stew, Monday evening: pasta fried in curry sauce, Tuesday morning: Bolognese pasta, Tuesday evening: pasta and hot chilli sauce, Wednesday morning, pasta with palm oil and dried fish.

My dad as my mum served pasta for the 6th time that week!

My dad as my mum served pasta for the 6th time that week!

On Wednesday evening, as we chomped mouthfuls of pasta wondering when the tribulation will end, my dad publicly said ‘Abike, ma binu’ (He publicly apologized to my mum on the dinner table).


Only then was normalcy restored.


Whatever you do: under-dress!

When my sister brought her husband for traditional wedding, my dad took one look at him and decided he was but a struggling young blogger man. My dad sent my elder brother to make sure the women who usually came, took off their wrappers and put it on the floor asking for money did not get to do that and he basically gave out my sister for free!

At this point in the conversation, I decided when going for my traditional wedding, I would go dressed in shorts, beach slippers and hoisting a tiny knapsack. Hopefully, the bride’s parents show me such mercy and ask for only one pineapple and watermelon for their daughter. Amen?

Abayomi (Again)

During holidays, we followed my dad to his office. Deal was we were to read there. Mumu me come carry love letter along with my books.  It was from a girl that I just bought perfume for. When we got home, I checked for the love letter, I could not find it, I bone! As we entered the office, the next day, there was the crumpled, forgotten love letter on my dad’s table. He took it, opened it and read.

Immediately he finished reading, I say immediately he finished reading….

Guys, I can’t! Bahahahaha!

Parting Shots

I am currently reading ‘I Am Malala’ by Malala Yousafzai: the girl that was shot by the Taliban for going to school. It’s a good read considering the feminist talk social media has been awash with recently. If you want a copy, do like this: O/


These walls are supposed to be white. They are the colour of an aldaura’s garment after a revelation.

Alfa says it is because of the damp in the room. The damp comes from the compound beside us which is waterlogged. Alfas says it is this way because the room also serves as the house’s fence. Alfa says no responsible landlady builds a house like this. I say let us talk about something new.

Alfa says we have to screed it. Throw some cement on it, then paint it. I say this takes too much time to dry, too expensive too. Alfa says we could paint it with an oil paint, then coat it with emulsion when the oil paint dries. That’s cheaper, that’s better.

Alfa comes with his friend. Alfa paints the walls, his friend paints the doors. His friends looks at my bookshelf and asks, ‘Sir, are you a scientist?’. It’s been a very long time I heard the word’ scientist’, I wonder about the word.


The rollers make a sound and it’s like that of a tongue licking something. Alfa asks a very important question, ‘That fat girl that always come, is she your girlfriend?’. I tell him that I don’t have a girlfriend. His friend explains that I don’t have a girlfriend because I have too many books. Alfa tells him that ladies like cold places and the AC makes my room cold. I wonder when the oil paint will dry.

Alfa’s friend looks outside and asks, ‘What breed is your dog?. I tell him it is a Police Dog. I tell him this because in some areas, Alsatians are known as ‘Police Dog’. Don’t think about this too much.


It is evening, the fat girl comes around. I say let’s drive around. We buy some chicken and beer. We park and eat. I drink one can and then another. I tell her the alcohol in Star Beer has been reduced, must be the ongoing promo. She says I am an alcoholic but just don’t know yet.


We move to the backseat. I might be leaning in. I might be stroking her hair. A patrol van stops beside us. Men come out with guns. They knock on the window. They dance around. I tell her to stay in. I go out to meet them. I tell them I am a Lekki indigene and have the right to hang around. Then I remember I was not born here. So I tell them I am a Lekki inhabitant, not an indigene. It makes no difference. They say ‘Come, let’s talk some more in the truck. Come to Station, our D.P.O will like to hear more about indigenes and inhabitants.’

They would like the lady to come down too. I tell them, you scare people when you wave your guns like that. I feel tired. I give them some money, and then some more’. They leave, but first, they give me advice about expressing public affection in places. I mean about expressing affection in public places. I really am tired, I leave too.

She IMs me the next day, ‘Hi, let’s go eat some more chicken. I am thinking about what we can do’

I ask ‘Where are you?’

She says Lekki.

I say that same Lekki? That same Wole Olateju? After what they did to us?

She says, don’t think about it too much.

Parting Shots

Read Angela’s Ashes by Frank McCourt. It’s very funny…and very sad too

Angela's Ashes

Ate snails, good clean snail on a  cold morning when you were not expecting snail to fall into your lap like that? 🙂

This jam, Royals by Lorde, if you haven’t listened to it, drop your e-mail address so I send.



I like events; what they mean and what they will mean.

One of my office mates is getting married. It’s kind of a big deal.

#mistahayoforthemandem #skelewu #SEMcantholdusback #OfficeMate #BigMoment #WeRanOuttaHashtags

#mistahayoforthemandem #skelewu #SEMcantholdusback #OfficeMate #BigMoment #WeRanOuttaHashtags

First, the jokes:

The other boys come in and say ‘Ay, bring me a male and female doll so I show you how, so you don’t have to call Pastor in the night to ask ‘what next sir?’

Others just shout ‘Licensed To Shoot’ whenever they pass him in the hallway

The more practical ones leave a complimentary bottle of Alomo, Ogidiga or plastic bottle of roots (burantashi) on his desk.

It’s all healthy.

We went to the registry today and I like that place. Seems like the whole Lagos is getting married.

Then the suspicious mixed marriages: whenever I see an (old) expatriate and a Nigerian getting married, I think mischievous.

When you marry in a registry, they remove the emotions. The woman says stuff like ‘You cannot enter another agreement if you are still in this one o! You must leave this one first or you will collect 5 years imprisonment’, ‘Oya, sign here’ Then she snaps at the photographer (me), ‘Snap fast’.


When getting married at the registry, you must wear a tie. If you don’t have one, a couple of folks already sell there

I would like to marry there though. No stress man. The praise singers are already there. Ade provides the ambience with her machine which generates bubbles..  And it makes marriage seem like serious business, which it is.

That's Ade!

That’s Ade! She thinks I ask too many questions.

Parting Shots:

(i) The most important thing about beer is the glass that it comes in. Try cold beer in one of these #ThankMeLater



(ii) Read Carlos Moore’s ‘Fela: This Bitch Of A Life’? Please do. My fave is when they asked Fela how he felt first time he met his wife, he replied ‘I felt like to fuck man’. Such sincerity.

Fela this bitch of a life

(iii) It could feel empty sometimes, that’s why you have to participate in a higher cause like volunteering. Slum 2 School here is a good one:


You don’t know when it will happen. You might avoid it, and when you are alone, it sneaks up on you. People won’t ask for an explanation, they will believe what they wanna believe.

I worked the other weekend. There was one fine babe in the place we were working. I dropped some of my sure jokes, she smiled. At a point, I went to get a chicken burger and Coke. So I stayed in one inner room and was eating. After eating, I felt like I had some chicken strands stuck within my teeth.  I was alone in the room. I was free to do as I pleased. I took a toothpick and you know, was prodding the chicken strands out of mouth. She walked in, looked at me, looked at burger wrapper, looked at the toothpick again. No relationship!

This thing called embarrassment; you don’t know when it will happen. You might avoid it, and when you are alone, it sneaks up on you. People won’t ask for an explanation, they will believe what they wanna believe.


You never know where you’ll find deep shit. See what I found on the wall of a public toilet the other day:

‘The most breathtaking things happen a moment after you leave’


Some things seem good to you, but they scar others, and leave an impression. Third parties might even have to wade into the matter. What started out as an innocent act might be seen otherwise.

I say I was in staff cafeteria the other day. The egusi soup was in front of me, pomo and roundabout and other things were there. Caterer made bowl of eba for me. I took Fanta from the fridge. It was a normal workday.

Hardly had I taken two fistfuls of eba that one of the expatriates walked in. Normal.

He looked at me. Still Normal.

He looked at my bowl of eba and his eyes widened. Almost Normal.

Then he shouted ‘Oi, what’s that? What’s he gonna do with that?’

Mo ri ogo o! All I did was order lunch. Why is this man raising his voice? Why are people passing the cafeteria coming in to know what is agitating the new expatriate staff. At a point, people were many. Next thing, I heard ‘click’. Someone had snapped the eba, snapped me.

It started out as lunch but some things seem good to you, but they scar others, and leave an impression. Hell, third parties might even have to wade into the matter. What started out as an innocent act might be seen otherwise.

It was a normal workday.

It was a normal workday.


Heard this gist the other day. I am nice, I will share: A husband and his wife had been living in an apartment for a while. Every now and then, the landlord will increase rent. The husband will complain about it. He and his wife will pray about it. Sometimes, the prayer will work. We serve a living God, shey? J The other day, something came out into the open. The wife is actually the landlord. So the family had been staying in her house, the husband paying rent to her, she sometimes tells the agent to pity him and revert rent increases. A great man once said, ‘This life is just a pot of beans’.

This Life Is Just A Pot Of Beans


Simba will be a year old on Friday. I intend to throw him a surprise party complete with party rice, puff puff and glitter. Simba will be the star of the event. He does not have many dog friends so I will be counting on his human friends to turn up and make the event memorable.



Lol. Was talking to a colleague the other day. He told me how they had a tense moment during the weekend. Armed robbers were in the area. He sent his wife and kids into the ceiling. Then he stayed in the parlour to wait for them. Very manly act. More manly when he told me that he waited for the armed robbers naked. In his words, ‘Tafa, wo n ni wo aso ba ole ja o!’ (You don’t wear cloth when you want to fight thief o!)

I find it funny, armed robbers walk in find gun cocked and cock standing and….

See, I’m done.

Parting Shots

Have you gone to the beach at night? Say 8 p.m. There’s no blanket, it’s chillingly cold. You have a bottle of red wine. You and partner feel so alone, music sounds from afar. You lie by the waves; scared, happy and feel pleasantly suicidal?

Have you read ‘Black Swan’ by Nassim Nicholas Taleb? Bulky book but has some nice ideas.

The Black Swan

There’s this nice eatery on Number 9 Wole Olateju Crescent. It’s at the Waterfront so while eating, you watch boats zip pasts. As for the food, see and believe:


I had a few days between jobs, so I lived each day, knowing that I would not be this free for the next 5 months. Each day was an adventure. Come with me, please.

Baba Ijebu

I always see these stalls with red machines. I finally discovered Baba Ijebu. It was a small kiosque with a cardboard on the wall with so many numbers. There were numbers by the bench, there were numbers everywhere. Some people came to play event, others match, others sure and some others, too sure.I asked one Bros that came to play how the thing goes. He said it’s just like Visa Lottery: you choose a series of numbers, if two of the numbers are picked that day, you win some money. You can bet for as low as ten naira (SURE) to as high as five hundred naira (TOO SURE). I asked how he chooses his numbers, he said it depends. He had chosen thirty six and forty two for that day.

I said ‘Okay, so how did you choose these numbers?

He said he simply timed how many minutes he lasted on his woman the previous night. Such pride.


You know how those people that know Maths always covered their workings back then? I saw someone doing that there. He guarded his paper and whispered his numbers. I said Okay, this one is too sure. I went to meet him that please, he should mentor me. He said he is building house in Ikorodu with his winnings. He gave me some sure numbers.

I played.


Results come out six times a day and three times on Sunday. Since I played hundred-hundred naira, it means I will win N24, 000 times 2: Too Sure.

I waited.

3:15 p.m. came. I ran to the store with my ticket. Mentor had assured me that the number will drop.

Baba Ijebu gave me some numbers very far from mine. My only consolation was that Mr. 42 Rounds’ numbers did not drop too.

You Don’t Know My Story

So I woke up that morning and said, what-the-hell, let’s go see a movie for 9 a.m. I arrived, smuggled an entire buka in my bag and took angle 90 in the cinema. The theatre was empty as far as I could squint. Movie was After Earth: Spaceship crashes, just two of them in a ship with the father-Will Smith-injured! That his small, fine son-Kaha has to save them.  At the point that Jaden Smith was chooking the dragon something, I started shouting ‘Wa sere! Wa sere!!’

As movie ended and they put on the light, I saw that some primary school has taken the cinema so all the chairs were filled with small-small butter children. They all looked at me as if ‘That’s the loud one: Brother t’oun ma pariwo niyen’. Such pride.

All I can say is those kids don’t know my story; they don’t know what I’ve been through. When they are my age, they will know why a full blown, full grown man can get such orgasmic pleasure from a N500 movie.

Working in a multinational

I have resumed work in the new place. Working in a multinational means anything can happen. I walked into the loo at 3 p.m. the other day and saw one of the Indians brushing his teeth. Serious brushing o: toothbrush in throat, scrubbing the tongue like rug. I was amazed.

As I wanted to enter the loo the other day, an Oriental stepped out. Sometimes, sitting on the toilet bowl here I think deep-of the shits that have gone before me: that of Orientals, Hispanics and Greeks, of my humble shit joining theirs in a global commingling and intermingling, of how far my shit had to travel to be here, of how this bowl all brings us together.

Just The Other Day

My friend, Ferdy married the other day.


The event was light and deep-at the same time. Pre-wedding, we asked Ferdy what he would do if someone raised hand when the Pastor says ‘If you have anything against this wedding, stand up’. It was joke o, until Ferdy entered the wedding venue with bouncer behind him.

Then the bride price was an amount that required small change (N20), and the groom had come with dollars. So there was a mad scramble to the Bureau de Change and finally, the nearest Baba Ijebu to get some small change.


Then there were floating candles on the table and…you know what? I’ll do a separate post on this.

Bye Bye

Parting Shots

Have you listened to ‘Let Her Go’ by Passenger? Get it, you’ll need it someday

Let Her Go

Have you read Wicked Pleasures by Penny Vincenzi? It goes with the weather

Wicked Pleasures

Have you experienced a brightly lit hall, with sparking china, Obiwon singing ‘Obi Muo’ and the love of your life looking radiant? No? Gaan marry.

IMG-20130723-WA0001[1]  IMG-20130712-WA0000[1]

Jehova I di ebube

na ebe anyi no

Jehovaaaaaaaaaaaa, I DI EBUBE!!!!

I mara ma, I kariri ihe a si n’ibu

The other day, one big company contacted me. That’s how they started pricing my market in dollars.

They called me for interview.

Out of desperation, see the way I was answering questions.

They said ‘Osisiye, what can you do?’

I said ‘I can take Datsun and change it to Toyota’

They said ‘Can you speak French?’

I said ‘Quelqun ton fait?’

I could see the money. I was already planning what I will do. First, I will stop buying eight naira bread in the morning. That thing just makes me sleep. Or could it be the akara? I was sha ready to be a better person.

Then they started. Oh! I didn’t tell you; they were all Indians on the panel.

‘Mr. Tafa, are you lazy? You know Nigerians are lazy. Can you work twelve hours everyday including weekends? Sometimes we work overnight too.’

One of them that looks like he doesn’t get enough sex, looked at me and said ‘I hope you are not married? Shey you don’t have sister or mother? We want you to be able to travel anytime. Hope you don’t go and marry soon?’

Another one said ‘Do you have good image in Nigeria?’

At the end, I said, see, wetin hot go still cold. Let me jeje go back to my former job.

As I was going home, a mail came in from a company I had long interviewed in: ‘You have been found suitable for the role…Come and pick up your offer letter’

At this point, let’s dance: grabs female blog reader; *Holds her close, arms at her waist, I whisper, my breath fans her neck, Someone’s playing a guitar somewhere; I lean in, She feels good, and smells better, We lean in for one moment and I break away*

Boy, was I pumped?

I have always dreamt of my resignation. I would have Adele’s ‘Someone Like You’ playing in the background. It’s not going that way. Thing is I applied for a leave, and then resigned, thus taking my leave out of my resignation notice period, and the church says ‘Smooth’. I did all these in the same mail thread and my boss replied with one word: ‘Bagger’.

I didn’t choose this life, it specially chose me.

Guys, please join with me, singing:

O diro onye di ka gi Jehovah

O diro onye di ka gi

Idi ebube I mara ma

O diro onye di ka gi


Out of the blues, My dad sent an SMS; he’s coming to visit. First visit to my pad. Boy, was I tensioned: Is the house too small? Does the room smell of…nvm? I mean, what does the room smell of? Should I change the sheets or just buy new sheets?

Then Simba:

Started from puppy

Started from puppy


Now we here

He now does this thing in which he barks, drools saliva and vibrates the cage. I spoke to him that see, you can’t do this when Popsy comes o! The general idea is ‘Osisiye is a brave and nurturing young man’, not ‘Osisiye is a wild youth who keeps a wild animal’

Then I had to sanitize the house of all these bad-bad things. A trusted advisor said I should leave a few cans of beer around; that if the house was too neat, my Dad would know it was a scam.

See, I am (was) an Akure Boy. So growing up, we had fan instead of AC and we used to warm food in the morning, no microwave and stuff.

So immediately my dad came, I was eager to impress him, I put the AC on max. He just eyed it and said ‘Osisiye, you no see weather? Abeg, off that thing. Small time, my nose go begin dey run’.

Earlier, I had bought medium catfish, efirin (scent leaf), pepper soup ingredients, cayenne pepper and yam. So I started cooking. I even put sugar in the yam, the thing was like WAEC for me.

Me and Dad

Me and Dad

I served him. See, from the place where we come, we don’t compliment. So after eating, my dad just said ‘Who teach you pepper soup cook?’.

Guys! D’you know what that means in the place where we come? It means ‘The food is good. Bravo! You, are a star’. I know because if the pepper was too much, he would have said ‘E be like say pepper cheap for this side?’

After eating, he was calm. Then he looked at the fridge top and said ‘Osisiye, d’you drink?’

I said ‘No sah’

He said ‘No be hot I dey see for there so?’

I don’t like this. After hustling to buy Hennessy, it gets to be called ‘hot’. Is ‘Hot’ not dem Aromatic Schnapps and stuff?

I just told him ‘It’s Hennessy…V-S-O-Pee sah!’

He spoke some more about the serenity of the island. Then lay down to sleep. I was happy. He had eaten, now he was resting. The visit was a success. Why was I worried all along?

Then it started to rain.

PS: My roof still leaks.

Parting Shots:

(i)                 Have you read Invisible Man by Ralph Elison? You should. I’ll give a pdf copy to anyone who wants.

(ii)               Have you listened to Shima Yam by Bemyoda? Deep stuff. Here’s the link.


(iii)             Have you mixed hot Hennessy with Coke? What the hell are you waiting for?

Drinks on Chill

Recently, I spent the night at a female friend’s.  In the morning, I went to do a Number Two.  So I did it, and see who’s there-a floater. What didn’t I do? I flushed. I chilled, then re-flushed. I walked away so the floater would be less aware, then I barged into the bathroom, took the floater unawares and flushed. Nothing shifted.

I left.

In the evening, we were Skyping as she entered her house so she said ‘Man! My house smells like crap’. I said ‘Must be your dog, naughty boy!’

After minutes, she came on Skype and said ‘Osis, it’s youuuu. Your s**t is strong [insert Skype  arm muscle smiley]

I don’t want to say more about this. I have a strong feeling that she has told her friends and they see through my s**t. I am human. I didn’t choose this shit life, it chose me.


Society expects too much from us men.

Was with a lady friend the other day, and it was raining, naturally.

Next thing, this thunder struck. Heavy thing.

See, I am African. When thunder strikes, I don’t think it is a rapid expansion of air or sonic boom. I know say dem send the ting ni.

So as the thunder struck, I shook (just a bit) and screamed ‘JEZUZ’ (but not too loud).

Since then, this friend has not been picking my calls o! She says how can I convince her that I can protect her when I almost teleported at the sound of thunder.

Society expects too much from us men.


Ade, my Painter Friend gisted me something, I will gist you too.

He is (was) in love with this girl in Ikorodu. He buys bread and sardine when going to visit her. When she graduated from Tailoring Institute and was doing her ‘Freedom’, he sold his Blackberry phone and wrapped the money (ten thousand naira) inside envelope for her.

But whenever she comes to his house, it’s one story or the other. The first time, she said she was hungry and did not feel like eating. Another time, she said she was feeling tired and sleepy but could not sleep. Another time, she said her ears felt dirty. He did not have cotton bud and that’s how she said she can’t sleep with man when her ear is dirty. See, that’s how his thirst remained and the relationship is now over.

Ade is angry.

He said I should get car so me and him will go to Ikorodu, then he’ll park in front of her and say ‘You see your life! You that you’re forming for me, look at me now! Look at this fresh guy, Izz my guyz. Look at this car, Izz my ridez. That’s how I move around town.’

Look at me now!

Look at me now!

Lol. This gist will have a Part II, you know right?


Parting Shots:

(i)                 Have you read Americanah? No? Go and read it. Nice book.

Delightful read

Delightful read

(ii)               Listened to Frank Ocean’s ‘We All Try’? No? You should. Nice song

(iii)             Lay on a hammock at the beach? No? Go try it. Nice feeling.


I am the one up-wearing a brown shirt, Simba is the one on the ground-with a brown coat

Till next month Guys,


What’s your pattern?

Recently, I’ve been reading ‘The Accidental Public Servant’, Mallam El-Rufai’s new call for attention. What struck me was a conversation he had with Baba Iyabo. Mallam told Obasanjo that he should not go for the Third Term because in his life, everything he struggled for never came to him. The only things that came to him are the things he did not put much effort into.  And in his opinion, that was a pattern that had constantly played out in Obasanjo’s life.

OBJ ignored him and went on with the 3rd term thing, and we all know the end.

Everyone’s life has a pattern, I’ve been thinking of mine and came up with something. Anything I really put effort into is not the decider. Most things that mean a lot to me are the stuffs that were largely ‘play’. Lemme give you an example. No, 2 examples.

In secondary school, the first exam we had was NECO GCE, that was like S.S.S 3 First Term. We liked it cos it took place outside the school and we had to wear mufti. So we were always having a dressing competition and when we got to town, we would sneak to Mr. Biggs and buy stuffs for our girlfriends.  Understand? It was just cruise-all about baffs, town and stuff. That’s the result I’ve been using till now. The WAEC and all that I really read for, I’ve not even collected it from the school.

My finest ex till date; the one I did not deserve, the one whose picture I keep years after the break up, the one whose name I drop in conversations. Lol, you get the gist sha? Finest babe I’ve ever gone out with. I did not do much too. I just said ‘You look like Ini Edo’ and another time, I said ‘I like your natural smell, you should not bath too often’. That’s as much toasting that happened. There was no heavy artillery and stuff.

Disclaimer: The blogger does not in any way endorse the use of cheesy lines.

Eez nuffin

Eez nuffin

And there are other things I really hustled for, but now, they are not that important or I hustled to leave them. So I just saw that Woh! when things are too hard, it’s not what matters. The way my life is, I just always feel God makes what is mine come to me, and that’s a pattern.


I’m not an Ordinary Tenant.

Lagos is not easy o.

Rainy season came and everyone was tweeting ‘Weather for 2’, while I was scooping water out of my room. It was like magic. First rain of the year, as the rain started, I thought I was outside.

I say one day it was raining and I went to stand outside in the rain. I don’t know how it happened but the one in the room was more than the one raining outside

What of the day I had visitor? She woke me up in the middle of the night and said, ‘Osis, what’s this?’

I said ‘Err…whenever it rains, it trickles’

She said ‘Trickles ko, schmikles ni’. That’s how guest left in the night o!

I asked my friend for advice/help. He said ‘Osisiye, obu onye n’eeme nkpotu a? You cannot be more than what you are. Come back to Bariga’.

So today, I just closed eye and called Fire Man. He charged me for cement, sand, slate, 2 rolls of roofing sheet and owo epo (money for fuel). I don’t know what concerns fuel and roof repairs.


Most Valuable Tenant

Hopefully, this works and I am not washed away one of these nights.

Imagine a Linda Ikeji Headline: ‘Blogger and pet dog drown in own room, landlady distraught, condemns builders and vows justice’

Lol. Out folks!