Posts Tagged ‘hits blunt’

The first time I took weed, my dad gave it to me.

*hits blunt*

*hits blunt*

I walked into the compound and there he was sitting on the brown chairs in front of our house.

In his hand was a piece of paper with premium high grade weed in it.

He motioned to me wordlessly to come over.

See, I don’t claim to be spiritual and all but I know an epochal moment when I see one.

I approached him wordlessly.

He passed the open, crumpled sheet of paper to me and said ‘Wetin be this?’.

I sniffed, I sniffed again. I placed some grains and dried leaves between my hands, tasted it and proclaimed in a low, sober voice, ‘Igbo’.

‘Na wetin I see for inside the bus. That’s what the driver has been taking. No wonder he doesn’t bring complete money again’.

I just shook my head.

Later that evening, as I went around my baby boy business, my dad called me again ‘Osis the Boy’

I said ‘Sah!’

He said ‘How could you recognize weed so quick? Have you been taking it too?’

Popsy was like 'How you take know say that ting na weed?'

Popsy was like ‘How you take know say that ting na weed?’

See, I am not criticizing anyone but I felt betrayed. You stand up for family, you do some research for family, you dedicate your nasal glands, taste buds and years of experience to the service of the family business and this is what you get? This!?


My dad’s switchup had me like

Look, why did I share this with you? I don’t know man. I really don’t know.



You confide to your Pastor that you are worried that your fiancée snores. He then asks you if you’ve been fornicating cos how else will you know if your fiancée snores. What you gonna do?

You take a female interest for Bobo Omotayo’s book reading and midway she looks at you with doe eyes, squeezes your hand and tells you she loves Bobo Omotayo’s mind. I say what you gonna do?

You got a crush on your superior and express it by sending the most detailed meeting minutes hoping she notices that such pristine meeting minutes are art and show intent. Yet she doesn’t notice. I ask again, what you gonna do?

You’re on the akara queue, you have paid your dues: you didn’t cuss, you didn’t shove, you swear you didn’t for once say ‘Madam, hurry up’, yet the person in front of you buys up the entire tray. I am crying here. I say, what you gonna do?


Your younger brother has a light skinned, sixteen year old girlfriend and for all your hustle, all you have is a ‘bestie’ that doesn’t stay in Lagos. People treating you anyhow cos they know you’re single and don’t have anyone to cry out to; I say what you gonna do?


I recently took up salsa man.

It’s my retirement plan.

I wanna leave the bank and you know, be a dancer.

It’s all too much for me here

So in my bid to make everything art, I recorded my resignation on a mixtape with Chris Brown’s Deuces playing in the background, please give your opinion before I forward same to HR.

Kindly preview here:


I had a customer experience issue the other day.

No , I am not angry but I have just one wish: when I die, can some Konga staff be among my pall bearers, so they can let me down one last time?

Parting Shots

Listened to ‘Di Spear’ by Nas and Damian Marley? Heavy. Holla, let me link you up.

Distant Relatives

The island is crazy man. But some business owners are keeping it real for hustle boys. There’s this place called FarmFresh. It’s just after the Place. It’s a seaside bar and the carpet is made of green turf. Well, their beer is N500 and their asun is N500. That’s as good as it gets here.

My book matter: I swear the book will be in stores by my next blog post. Please see a review of it that was published on the Guardian. Almost there now.

An online version of it is also available here: