Come & See Trouble!

Come & See Trouble!
Come & See Trouble!
Come & See Trouble!
Come & See Trouble!

If you want to have a good laugh over some crazy trouble talks, Jump right in here. This column is especially crafted and spiced with awesome narratives of some hilarious troubles that would surely make you laugh so hard.

 From narrow escape from an armed gay rapist to being entangled in lover’s squabbles and being tormented by some noisome pests, Steve Owen narrates his ordeals in such a way that, rather than feel sorry for him, you wouldn’t help laughing at him.


Hello Readers, thank you for taking a peep in here. I’ll be updating this post in bits as I write but I will let you know when I will be making the next post so if you’ll like to read some cool hilarious tales, you can always come in here to enjoy yourself.


I’m on the lookout for a publisher so if you’ll like to publish my books in hard copy, feel free to contact me through my email address.







© 2016 Stephen Oweniwe.

All Rights Reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, and recording otherwise without prior permission from the copyright owner.


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Cover Concept & Design By: Stephen Oweniwe



Table of Contents 

  1. Some Manufacturers Are Very Wicked
  2. God Punish All Armed Robbers
  3. Animal Problem
  4. Haphazard Sex Life
  5.  The Adult Side
  6. When It Comes To Lovers’ Issues, Never Ever Interfere
  7. Problem By Proxy
  8. To Be A Man Is A Problem
  9. It’s A Crazy World



  1. Some Manufacturers Are Very Wicked

Do you know you can use your money to buy trouble? Millions of people do just that every day. I’m sure at some one point or the other; you must have brought something that you ended up spending so much on without getting any value in return for your money. I will tell you about some contraptions I bought or used that… rather than make life easier for me, they made me suffer.

Chief among them is Nokia E66. In those days, if you own a Symbian phone, you’re a big boy. I had the option of going for other Symbian phones within same range like the E63 but I chose the E66 because I wasn’t familiar with QWERTY keyboard at the time. I also assumed E63 would be more battery efficient since it’s a slide phone. If I’m not typing, the keypad lights would be off as I slide down thereby conserving battery life.

So I bought the phone. I was very right about the slider saving battery life. I used the phone to browse so much that people were begging me to let the phone have some rest. If I went anywhere, brought the phone out of my pocket and slide the screen up, the people around would nod in respect. All that was cut short about three months after purchase when one morning, I picked up the phone, slide it up and the screen was white, though the underneath keyboard was lighted.

I rushed the phone to a repair guy who dismantled it and told me that the flex is bad; I should give him money to buy another flex. I paid him, he fixed the phone and I went home. The next month, the phone’s screen went black. I went to the repair guy. He put another flex into the phone. it worked so my screen had gone bad. I paid for another screen. When the repair guy was coupling the phone after fixing it, he didn’t align the lower speaker well so when I got home, and tried to make calls… the person I’m calling could hear me but if I reply, it seemed like I’m talking to the air. I took the phone to another technician and that was fixed.

Then the E66’s casing started going bad and keypad color faded. To bring it out in the public became shame to me. I went to a major phone accessories shop and bought another case. The new case, after being mounted on the phone didn’t fit too well but it made the phone glow so I decided to manage it like that. A few weeks later, the screen blacked out again. When I changed the screen, a few weeks later the flex got angry and spoil too.

I thought the repair guys didn’t fit the stuffs well which is the reason why they spoil so quickly. So I went to the shop where they sell phone spare parts, bought the flex, opened the phone and installed a new flex myself. All went well till the end of the next month when the screen went black again. I thought of buying another phone but my budget at the time could only get a Java phone. Who would ever used return to Java phones after using Symbian? I repaired the phone and begged it not to spoil again. About two months later, the flex went bad. I wanted to smash the phone on the floor and hammer it with my feet but I was determined to make something out of it so that all the money I spent on it will not be in vain.

I repaired the phone again and swapped it with a bro’s E5. The bros complained that all his pictures would randomly break or become corrupted without cause so I was lucky to get it so cheap. At the time, Android was just introduced and was very expensive too so the E5 was my best option.

The next month when I went to the bros I swapped phone with, I saw my E66 lying so dismantled and battered on his shelf. I couldn’t help bursting into laughter. The E5 however wasn’t without its fault though. If the phone fell by one centimeter from my hand to the ground or table, its screen would total. I loved the phone’s camera so I was reluctant to let the phone go but after changing its screen the seventh time, I ‘used anger’ to fling the phone into the bush and got myself HTC Rider.

How can I forget Dad’s Peugeot 504Station Wagon? He bought the wagon from his in-laws after his father in-law’s burial. I think I was in primary four at the time. From day one, the car was problem. If you start the car in the morning, the engine would blatantly refuse to wake until we have pushed it through almost all the streets in the estate.

Dad would open the hood, suck petrol from one pipe like that, pump the petrol from his mouth into the engine and rush back into the car to start it; the engine would cough… cough and go back to sleep. The shame of pushing it around was much. When dad eventually saved enough money and bought a W124 Mercedes Benz, we were so happy. Dad swore that he would never touch a Peugeot again. He didn’t even bother to sell the 504. He returned it to his in-laws as a “gift”.

Dad drove the Benz madly like a demon. On the highway, nobody could overtake him. After about two years, the Benz began to cry. If anything spoils in the car, the replacement parts were so expensive. He later sold it to a jolly friend for a token and brought a 1999 Toyota Avalon. I guess he wanted a Toyota that can match the Benz in terms of performance.

The Avalon was sweet in its first year. Later on the car became a wolf in sheep’s clothing. You will be driving it gently one cool afternoon and the engine would suddenly knock. If you repair the engine, a few months later, it’ll knock again. Dad got a replacement engine but the same thing happened to it. If the engine knocked today and you repair it, next month it would knock again. We would hold prayer vigils anytime Dad wants to travel and pray that the engine should not knock on the highway. Apart from that, it also drank oil regularly. Dad changed the engine about three times before he got fed up and upgraded to Toyota Sienna. He begged people to buy the Avalon for chicken change but people were offering chicken shit. He finally parked the car, removed its tires and covered it with tarpaulin.

Some time ago, I saw some neat and beautiful Nissan Muranos and Range Rovers parked at an auto garage. Out of curiosity, I pretended I wanted to buy one of the cars and asked the mechanic what is wrong with them. The mechanic said the Muranos have some electrical and gear problem while the Range Rovers had air suspension issues. When I enquired how much it would costs to get a replacement gear for Murano, the cost of the gear is literally more than the cost of the car. I didn’t bother to ask anything about the Range Rovers. I removed my shoes, touched my toes and ran away with speed.

Do manufacturers deliberately make stuffs and program them to go bad after about a year or two? I can’t understand how companies that have been producing the same products for over half a century would still make and churn out products that have hidden defects despite of all the expertise, wealth of experience and technical know-how at their disposal. Though in some cases, the users are to be blamed for servicing the products wrongly; it’s still not enough excuse for them to make products that fall apart even in the hands of experienced users.

In my country where you can’t drive for one mile without having to swerve left or right to avoid potholes, to drive a car with air suspension every day is the most stupid thing to do. I don’t know if auto makers actually manufacture their suspension components or they outsource it but if I were Range Rover, I’ll insert a soft spring suspension into the air suspension and seal them both up so that if the air suspension goes bad, the car can temporarily have the soft spring in the bad suspension to lean on. I’m sure that’s going to spoil market for the people who manufacture plain air suspension but customer satisfaction is what ultimately matters. I can’t spend big money on a Range Rover only to park it at a mechanic shop because of one busted balloon.

The list will not be complete without including HP laptops. What exactly is inside the laptops HP manufactures that makes people patronize them so much, I don’t know. They source electronic parts from different component makers, jam them together and brand it HP. The result is that half of their products often go bad within few months of usage.

If it is not heat/fan problem, it is keyboard problem. You will be typing an important document and the computer would suddenly hang without warning. HP chargers are so small and get incredibly hot when in use. HP is aware of this problem but they have refused to rectify it. If you go to any laptop repair tech shop, out of every ten scrap laptop, six would most likely be HP, two Toshiba, one Dell and one Sony. Let me also add that most batteries manufactured for HP (since HP doesn’t actually manufacture anything) are also whack.


2. God Punish All Armed Robbers

I once had a scary experience with a useless homosexual man. If you have read my other books, you will know I love women so what could have brought me in contact with gays? My brother, it is condition that made crayfish to bend o. It happened during the time when the government didn’t know what to do about falling oil prices, scarce FOREX and fuel scarcity. I had to travel far to meet up with one interview like that. Since petrol was so scarce, the fare of petrol powered vehicles was hiked by 100%. I saw no sense in travelling by petrol powered buses. I opted to go by night bus… those Marcopolo buses. They’re diesel powered so their fares remained relatively cheap.

When travelling in smaller vehicles, I prefer to sit in the front with the driver so I could see the road. But in this case, it was a big bus… I picked a seat close to the back of the bus so I could see everything going on around me. The bus was yet to full so there was plenty time. I made myself comfortable in my seat and took out my phone to surf the net.

While I was browsing, a Toyota Sienna full of some boxes parked not far from my bus. After some time, the park boys unloaded the boxes from the Sienna to the bus I boarded. The owner of the boxes, a sweaty guy in his late forties wouldn’t stop cursing the government. He said he wanted to fly the boxes but air fares had increased by 300% due to scarcity of aviation fuel so he had no choice than to go by road. In my mind, I felt for the man. How can one make profit when the cost of transporting one’s goods has jumped by 100%?

About five minutes later, an Evil Spirit burst into the park and screeched to halt right beside me. Four guys dressed in posh suits came out of the car and soon joined us in the bus. I thought they would sit together since they came in a group but they didn’t. One sat in the front just behind the driver, another sat by the front door, another sat by the back door and the last guy… sat beside me. If you’re still wondering sort of car is called Evil Spirit, It’s a nickname the local people gave the 2008-2012 Honda Accord because of it mean looking headlights.


The bus finally left the park about thirty minutes later. To my utmost displeasure, the guy beside me started barraging me lots of annoying talks. He asked me…


Where are you from?

How many sisters are in your family?

Bros, you are fine o, do you have a girlfriend?

Have you kissed a boy before?


In my mind, I was like… Mr. Man, please stop patronizing me with useless questions. I answered his questions as politely as I could while trying to discourage him from asking more questions.

Some hawkers who sell bottled drinks and sausages soon came by. I called one of the guys to buy a cool bottle of Sprite. My ‘neighbor’ called out to a sausage hawker and ordered a drink and two Gala Sausages. As I was about to pay for my drink, the guy told me not to worry, brought out a neat wad of cash and paid for the stuffs. He tossed one of the sausages on lap and jovially told me to enjoy myself. I am not so used to being dashed things so I was somehow shocked by his show of generosity. Well, who am I to reject his offer. I smiled and thanked him.

As the bus took off, I reclined in my seat and pretended to be asleep. You know why? Something fishy seemed to be going on in the bus. My neighbor shifted his attention from me and began to exchange weird signals with the other guys he came with. Then one of them… the guy sitting but the front door burst into gospel songs and began to clap as if his hands were cymbals. Trust our people… they joined him singing and clapping. I quietly sat with my eyes half closed observing the guys in suit. The way they dressed, you’ll think they’re missionaries.

Suddenly, I felt a jolt on my crotch. It was my neighbor o. He asked why don’t I join them in singing? I asked him if it is my crotch I should use to sing. He smiled and said he only hit me there by mistake when he wanted to tap my lap to wake me to join the bus’s ‘fellowship’. I told him I’m fatigued and would like to rest. He asked if I am ‘Born Again’. I told him not to worry… we’ll talk about it later, but I need to rest. He grinned and said I should sleep well o… and I should pray not to wake up in hell fire. In my mind, I retorted back at him; ‘it is you and your next generation that will wake up in hell fire.’

After singing, the guy behind the driver stood up and said ‘let us pray’. The guys in the bus lowered their heads while the ladies covered their heads with whatever they could lay their hand on. The guy started to pray… for the journey to end in success… he prayed that the bus should not encounter ‘roadblocks” or overzealous policemen that would delay our journey. Everyone chorused …”Amen!”. Then the Pastor guy shouted hallelujah, clapped his hands and sat down quietly. Why he went so silent after being so loud a few minutes earlier, I wondered. It’s not my business anyway. I looked out of the window and was about to doze off when I saw it.

Please ask me… what did I see? The Honda Accord that dropped the guys at the park glided beside my window and overtook the bus. The bus driver suddenly slammed the brake cursed loudly and shouted at the stupid car to get out of his way. The guy on my side chuckled and then burst into laughter. Then the pastor guy sprung up, brought out a pistol under his suit and raised it into the air. Some people on the bus screamed… “Jeeeezzusss!!!”

“Anybody that wants to die should come and fight me.” Says the ‘Pastor’. Nobody stood up. The people closer to him frightfully bowed their heads. By this time, the guy behind the driver had his pistol on the driver’s head. The guy at the back door was also up with his pistol. Only ‘my neighbor’ remained seated but he sooner brought out his own pistol.

The bus was diverted to what seemed like an abandoned petrol station off the highway. They kicked everyone out of the bus and ordered us to lay on the floor face down with hands and legs spread apart. They said they’ll shot anybody that attempts to raise alarm. Then they carted the trader’s boxes into the Honda. “My Friend” and Pastor acted as look outs while the other robbers tossed each box between them until the box lands at the trunk of the car.

The trader began to cry. He said he took loan from a bank to buy the goods and begged the robbers to have mercy on him. Pastor Robber told him to shut up but trader continued to wail and plead. At one point, sat up and faced the robbers to plead with them. Pastor Robber ordered him to lay on the floor but trader refused while begging. The next thing I heard was “kpaa!” Trader screamed, grabbed his leg and collapsed on the ground in agony. The women present began to wail and weep.

One of the robbers shouted at us to surrender our mobile phones but ‘my neighbor’ overruled him. Then Pastor walked to the lady beside me and roughly kneaded her buttocks. He ordered her to get up and take off her trouser. Then he said we should sit up on the floor and watch him. Right there in front of us, he had carnal knowledge of the lady. Those who tried to look away were hit on the head with the butt of the pistol and warned to keep their eyes open. When Pastor Robber was done, the next robber picked his woman and did the same to her until four of them had satisfied themselves. ‘my neighbor’ curiously didn’t participate in the rape.

In my mind at the time, I thought… aren’t women meant to be aroused only when they have been thoroughly romanced? I expected the robbers to have a hard time penetrating the ladies but I was disappointed. It seemed the ladies were already drooling wet before it got to their turn.

Pastor Robber asked ‘my neighbor’ if he wouldn’t have fun. ‘My neighbor’ sighed, nodded his head and pointed his pistol at me. He said I should get up. Me? What is my offense nah? He said I should take off my trouser and follow him. I didn’t understand why I should take off my trouser so I looked around confused. A hard blow suddenly landed on my cheek from behind. I staggered and almost fell on the ground. Pastor Robber charged at me, grabbed my trouser, yanked it off my legs and warned me to stop wasting their time as it was getting late. Then another robber, with his pistol at my back, piloted me to the other side of the bus away from the other passengers.

I met ‘my neighbor’ there smiling with his trouser off and a bottle of oil in his hand. He said I should take off my boxer shorts and I shouldn’t be scared because he is in love with me so he’ll do it gently. My people, what kind of nonsense is this?

Why in God’s name would a sane man be looking for pleasure inside another man’s anus? I, me, myself… I can’t comprehend why it is that out of all the fresh boobs and pussies in this world, it is my flat, hairy bum-bum that this idiotic pervert wants to fuck. At the time, I thought it was impossible for a man to get erection at the sight of another man’s nakedness so how is he going to enter my bum-bum? I mockingly took of my boxer shorts and bared my ass at him.

My dear, when I looked behind my back, what did I see? I saw ‘my neighbor’ happily lubricating his erect manhood with oil. Alarm bells rang in my head. What shall I do now? Should I commit suicide? I’ll rather use myself to do voodoo money ritual or sell my organs to make my younger ones rich than die wretched on top of one useless madman’s dick. As ‘my neighbor’ walked to me and pointed his lubricated rod at my ass, I sharply clenched my bum-bum tightly together. The idiot tried to yank my bum apart with his free hand. Who wants to be wearing adult diapers? In fact, I crossed my legs into letter X!

Then we heard a loud female cry from the other side. ‘My neighbor’ instructed the other robber to go check what was wrong. The other guy dashed off leaving just the two of us there. He slapped my head and barked at me to stop wasting his time. I refused to budge. Then he swore he’s going to deal with me for being stubborn. He took a few steps aside to drop his pistol… I’m sure wherever he is today, alive or dead, he would still be regretting ever dropping the pistol.

As he turned against me and bent down to place the pistol on the ground, I didn’t know what came over me. You know how soccer goal keepers do when they want to kick a ball from their hands into the air? That’s what I did. I took one step with my left leg and swung the right foot with full force into ‘my neighbor’s’ crotch. Whether my foot smashed his scrotums or not, I don’t know. What I know is that ‘my neighbor’ let out a yelp… “Yeeeehhh… My balls o o o o …!!!” and collapsed on the ground in pain while clenching his genitals. A gunshot responded from the other side of the bus.

My people, do you know what I did? I ran o, I ran for my dear life. I didn’t even bother to pick my boxer shorts; I jumped over the station’s low fence and darted into the bush. Three more gunshots came my direction. I kept running without looking back until I was deep inside the bush and everywhere became silent. Then I stopped, looked around and sat on the ground breathing heavily with relief.

It is where one problem ends that another problem will start. I felt a sharp sting on my bare thigh, looked down and saw a giant tse-tse happily fly sucking my blood. I promptly smashed the thing dead. The blood it had sucked nearly filled my palm. Another fly stung my neck and flew away before my hand could reach it. I knew I had to get out of the bush immediately if I don’t want to be sucked dry for supper by thousands of tse-tse flies around. I got up, tied my shirt around my waist and started going back the same way I came in from the bush. The robbers must have gone by the time I got back to the gas station.

It wasn’t long that I before I heard voices of some local people speaking a language I don’t understand. I cocked my hear to pick the direction the voices were coming from and headed that way. Surely, there must be a foot path that leads to the highway around here. Then I saw about six people who were obviously returning from their farms walking briskly in a straight file. I was happy I could get some help from the people after telling them my ordeal.

As I walked from the bush into the foot path and called out to the people, the last guy in the back turned around, looked at me, took to his heels and started shouting something I couldn’t understand. The other people didn’t even bother to turn around; they all arched their backs and ran after the last guy who had overtaken them. I thought the robbers had come into the bush to fetch me so I took to my heels too and tried to catch up with the people but the faster I ran to try catch up with them, the faster the people ran until we got to the highway. The first guy stopped, turned around to look at me again and sat on the highway’s shoulder panting heavily.

The people… three men and three women turned to me and asked me a barrage of questions… “Who am i? Where did I come from? How did I get into the bush? Where are my clothes?” I told them I was a victim of highway robbery who managed to escape into the bush. The people said it was the sound of gunshots that prompted them to leave their farms so they were tensed when the first guy raised alarm. I asked the guy as he sprawled on the ground if he saw the robbers in the bush. He said no… he didn’t see me when he walked by earlier so when he turned around and suddenly saw me behind him, he thought I was a ghost… switched his gears from two to six.


3. Animal Problem

Some animals can be very lousy. There were times when I crossed path with some crazy mammals and either ended being victorious or being beaten up black and blue. The encounters taught me that one doesn’t always have to go out to find trouble. There are sometimes when trouble will start or come and meet you where you are sleeping.

I didn’t know the apartment I rented in the University had bat problem. It was located outside town, close to the forest edge and it is a storey building with green roof too. The rent was cheaper than other rooms in town so I paid for the room and used the balance saved to buy some electronic gadgets.

I guess the bats must have mistaken the house’s green roof for one giant tree. At midnight or so, they would sneak into the attic unnoticed through tiny holes in the roofline and stay there quietly until dusk when they would rush out with so much gusto, swirl around to perform aerobatics and then zoom into the bush. I won’t see them again until the next dusk.

At first, I ignored them because… as far as they keep to their lane inside the attic, we won’t have case in court. However over the months, their numbers grew and they became a nuisance. Just imagine about a thousand bats rushing out of the attic at dusk; the sight was appalling.

The bats poop was most annoying. The ceiling’s “pigeon hole”… a small covered hole in the ceiling where one can climb into the attic, is located in my bathroom. Sometimes the hole’s cover would shift as the bats flew about and their poop would come splattering into the bathroom. The other tenants in the house weren’t so affected so they cared less.

Apart from that, they also introduced cockroaches and bugs into the house. In the midnight, I would wake up to see giant cockroaches all over the ceiling and walls. My dear, come and see swatting! Sometimes I’ll be sleeping only to be woken up by cockroaches crawling all over my body and bedside. Whether my skin looks like food to them, I don’t know. I would kill ten cockroaches now and in an hour time, another five will crawl out of nowhere. I tried some insecticides but after some time, the cockroaches seemed to developed immunity to them.

The last straw that broke the Carmel’s back when I was cooking one day and a medium size cockroach appeared from nowhere and began to crawl on the wall near the cooker. I quickly swatted it away. You know how cockroaches disappear when you swat them, don’t you? I didn’t see the cockroach again. It was when I was eating… after I had eaten half of the food; I saw a freshly boiled cockroach in under the plate. How it managed to get into the boiling pot on the cooker is a mystery. As a broke student, I can’t throw away a whole pot of soup because of one stupid cockroach nah. I want to tell you a lie; I didn’t eat the food again… and hunger nearly killed me that day… hiss.

It is not me that hunger is going to kill when I am not a refugee in my own house. Let me just tell you the truth; I flung the cockroach away, did sign of the cross and finished the food. I had already eaten half of the food so even if I didn’t eat it again because of imaginary germs, it won’t make any difference if I ate half or the whole food.

I got angry and decided to do all I could within my humble means to evict them. I went to the market and brought Dimethoate, borrowed Knapsack and sprayed the pesticide into the roof in the afternoon. The bats stubbornly refused to go and sat there even with the horrible smell. I had to go down to fetch a long slender cane, climb up again and flog them with damp cloth draped over my nose before some started leaving. The rest left when the smell became so unbearable. The eagles in the sky had some of them for lunch. You need to come and see aeronautical stunts… something like some fighter jets pursuing so many bi-planes. I really enjoyed the free show. Though my room smelt too but I wasn’t bothered as far as the bats were gone.

My victory was cut short about two weeks later. As the smell of Dimethoate wore off, the bats started coming back. Within a week, the attic became full of them again. I consulted the local people and they said I should grind a bowl of dry chili or Cameroon pepper, perforate some beverage tins, pour charcoal onto the tins, put the tins in the attic, light up the charcoal, pour the pepper into the tins and get out of the attic as fast as I can. I was afraid the charcoal would set the roof on fire but they said I shouldn’t worry. So I brought pepper, some empty tins of powdered milk, charcoal… climbed into the attic and fired the mixture. I nearly choked up there and I’m sure I would have passed out if I had stayed a minute longer.

I barely replaced the pigeon hole cover when I began to hear “gboa!… ghoa!… gbaa…!… gbaa!…” from the ceiling. The bats were jamming the roof on top and the ceiling below in their hasty bid to get out and couldn’t find their way since the whole attic was saturated with pepper smoke. Some were so desperate to get out that they bore through the electric bulb fitting in the ceiling, hung half way and died like that. Most of them managed to escape while some died in the attic. That night, I didn’t see any cockroach… guess they all died too.

Between hot pepper and Dimethoate, pepper was more effective as I didn’t see the bats again until about three months later when they began to trickle into the attic again. Oh my God, why can’t these things just go away and stay away? The cockroaches and bugs came back with them too.

The landlord told me to get a carpenter to take measurement of the roof’s outline and send him the cost of installing fishing net all-round the roofline. The net is meant to catch and trap the bats as they try to fly into the attic. After taking a peep into the attic the stupid carpenter said it’ll cost ‘big money’ to buy net and install it all-round the roof. The work is also risky as the upper walls of the building were quite high and would require power workers type of ladder to reach the roof from outside. I told him to “gerraway” and called another carpenter to provide the estimate. The other carpenter didn’t even bother to climb into the attic. He simply said he cannot climb that high because no ladder can carry his weight at high elevation. What an excuse!

The landlord later came with a big bottle of DDVP/Dichlorvos locally called Sniper, augmented it with two litres of kerosene and paid a guy to spray it into the attic with knapsack. In my mind, I was like… “Almighty smelly Dimethoate barely drove them out for a week… what can DDVP that barely smells do?” I was very wrong. The guy up had barley sprayed half of the DDVP-Kerosene mixture when the bats rushed out with alarming speed. Some even fell from the sky and died as they hit the ground. I was dumbfounded. All the cockroaches and bugs died instantly too. Hallelujah!

That was however not the end of my problems. Some very stupid rats somehow found their way up and began to feast on the cockroach/bats carcass. I went to a drugstore and bought some rat poison, put it into a roasted fish and left the fish at the corner they used to pass. I counted three bodies the next morning. Some rats also died inside the wall close to the window. The stench of their dead carcass was so bad that for about a week, I had to sleep with a piece of cloth tied over my nose and friends were prohibited from visiting.

One stubborn rat however survived the poison. When I saw it lying quietly beside my bed, I chased it all around the room, managed to kick it like soccer ball into a corner and stepped on it. The rat refused to die. I got furious and used my foot to press it against the wall. The idiot screamed and sank its teeth into my toe. I had to grab my sneaker and smash its tummy before it finally died. Game over, I won again!

The next day I woke up feeling feverish. I took drugs for fever but it only got worse. The next day, nobody told me before I rushed myself to the hospital. After tests the doctor said I was infected with rat poison. I was admitted for three lonely days with drips every now and then. As big as I am, can you imagine a common rat sent me to the hospital?!

For the next six months, I didn’t see any bat, cockroach or rat again. After then some scout bats started flying around the house looking for where to get in. When I saw them around eleven pm trying to get into the attic, I prayed silently, oh my God, not again. These bats will not move inside again until my rent expires or I decide to move.

The next day, I withdrew ‘big money’ and went to the market to buy nylon fishing net. When I asked how much it costs, they said a whole pack of net costs just paltry $8 and the net is so long that it could stretch from the end of one street to another. I bought cut-to-size half pack of net for $4, twine rope and a bottle of DDVP before heading home while cursing the first carpenter in my mind for misinforming me to buy the net would cost a lot of money to buy the net. It is good to go to the market and price things for oneself before paying artisans.

Instead of wasting my time calling any carpenter, I put the twine into the nets myself, climbed into the attic and tediously tied the net to the roof’s wooden scaffold along the outer edges where the bats usually fly in. Two cut pieces of net I could have bought for 50 cents was even enough. I gave out ten pieces to the local guys who use them to catch fish and kept the four pieces for future use. I finally won the war against the bats.

My next encounter with animals happened about a year later in the same house. I like the place so I renewed my rent. I also became close to the Landlord because of the way I effectively managed the bats invasion so I became the unofficial caretaker of the house. This particular incident had nothing to do with the house though. It happened one hot afternoon as I rushed back home from school in order to take my bath and hurry off to a viewing center to watch Manchester United VS Chelsea match that was about to start in an hour time.

When I got to the bathroom, I realized my soap had finished so I grabbed a green colored towel I recently bought, casually tied it around my waist and went out to buy soap from a small grocery shop opposite my place. As I stepped out of the compound, I saw a Fulani herdsman with about a hundred herds of cow coming out of the bush where they had been grazing. I quickly crossed the road to the shop and picked the soap I wanted to buy.

As I was about to pay for the soap, one stupid baby cow strolled to me and fancifully starred at my towel. The Fulani herdsman shouted from where he was that I should remove the towel from my body. In my mind, I thought… “I should remove the towel so that the whole world will see my nakedness? Thunder will fire you.” I hurled a kick at the cow and it scampered back as if to report me to its papa and mama.

The next thing I knew was that two big cows suddenly burst out of the herd and charged at me. Before you say jack, I took to my heels and started running. If I run right, the cows run right; if I run left the cows run left. To me at the time, if the cows like, they could pursue me from Earth to Jupiter, I’m not giving up my beautiful green towel. Will the herdsman buy another towel for me?

I saw a narrow shortcut passage that led to another street and turned to that route. I was very sure the cows wouldn’t be able to squeeze through the passage. However, as I got to the edge of the passage, my worst fear happened; a nail someone knocked into the wall… hooked my towel. As I ran down the passage, the nail yanked the towel off my waist. My joystick and balls rang like a bell in the full glare of the people that had gathered around. To make matters worse, the area is a girls’ hostel.

I saw some girly clothes and a wrapper hanged on a rope outside to dry. By instinct, I ran for the wrapper and used it to cover my nakedness. I turned around only the see the two crazy cows tearing my towel apart with their teeth until the herdsman came and whipped them back to the herd. With the cows gone, the owner of the wrapper, a rude girl like that… came out of her room and asked who gave me permission to use her wrapper. I said… calm down nah. Should I have run naked into your room?

Fortunately for me, one of my course mates lived in the hostel. She borrowed me her wrapper and a shirt which I thankfully wore and headed to my crib. After bathing, I packed some clothes into a backpack and disappeared from the area to stay with a friend. I couldn’t bear to walk in my street again due to shame and embarrassment.

I was forced return to my place after a few days in exile because my friend’s house… a sort of jam packed poor students barrack, tenants there always fought over flimsy issues. The day I was forced to return to my place, my friend fought with his neighbor. The neighbor stays in the upper floor and is in the habit of brushing his teeth outside early in the morning instead of using his bathroom.

You know how some smokers brush their teeth as if war is going on in their mouth, don’t you? As my friend and I stepped out to go for lectures, a drop of toothpaste saliva landed on my friend’s head. My friend looked up and bellowed… “You this boy, you are mad o!”

As the stupid neighbor looked down and opened his mouth to apologize, the whole toothpaste saliva scum in his mouth came out and landed on my friend’s face. The way they fought that day eh, you would think the neighbor ejaculated spermatozoa on my friend’s face.

4. Haphazard Sex Life

When it comes to matters relating to girls, ladies, women, sexuality or whatever, I think I’m the most unlucky fellow in the whole wide world. While my little friends and mates successfully pulled off jaw breaking stunt-scapades with girls, virtually everything related to the opposite sex that I dabble into often ends in disaster. I will divide this into two separate chapters; one about my childhood experiences and the other about my adult experience

I grew up in a home that gave no room for us kids to go out and frolic with friends. Before you can go out of the compound, you will have to tell an elder sibling. If they say no, don’t go out, then you can’t go out except you want to be lashed some strokes of cane in the butt. So when my uncle came visiting and talked my parents into letting me come stay with him for the holiday, I was very happy.

Please ask me why I was happy. Back then in school, you know how boys form groups and they would go into a secluded part of the school and gossip their pranks away, I belonged to one of such groups in elementary school. The bad boys in the group would tell how they would go peeping at women who were taking their bath or undressing; the badder boys would narrate how they fondled and pressed older ‘aunties’ breasts while the baddest boys would tell how they did ‘daddy and mommy’ with female neighbors who were our age mates or how one big aunty sat on top of their pee pee. Whenever it gets to my turn to talk, I usually had nothing to say. Now that my Uncle was… or is a chronic womanizer. I hope you can now guess why I was happy.

I was about ten years old at the time. My Uncle stays in a crowded apartment block. When I got there, the place was like a mini market with so many people in the compound, and it seemed I was the only kid staying there as most of the tenants were entry level workers who were staying alone one with their live in fiancées. At the very end of the compound, one stupid man like that kept a stupid dog. I asked my uncle if the dog bites people, he said no, that if the dog barks at me, I should pick something, throw it at it and it would run away. I was relieved.

That very night, when I was asleep on the bed, I was woken up by rumblings and moaning of my uncle and a lady I never knew. I pretended to be asleep, turned over and opened my eyes a little. The thing I saw eh… legs flying in air, adults biting, hitting and scratching each other, I didn’t understand what was going on so I decided to shift closer to them so I could get a better view since the room was dark. I barely rolled over when the stupid girl picked a pillow and used it to cover my face. In my mind, I was like… what kind of nonsense is this? Is it her eyes that I am using to look? If she thinks she is smart, I showed her I was smarter.

About two minutes later… my face still covered with the pillow, I started to cough. I didn’t just cough, I coughed as if I were suffocating or choking. Nobody told them before they removed the dammed pillow from my face. I opened my mouth, gasped for air and then pretended to snore. My uncle rubbed my back with ‘sorry’.

Then the lady kneels on the bed while Uncle sat on her back and began to rider her like a horse. The lady cried as if she was in pain. In my mind, I thought, if she weren’t comfortable, why didn’t she just shove him off her or collapse on the bed? They soon finished what they were doing and slept off. I would have loved to send my tiny fingers on excursion over the lady’s chest but Uncle slept between me and her. When I woke up the next morning, I didn’t see any trace that we have any guest a few hours ago.

The question on my mind later during the day was… what is/are there on the bodies of women that Uncle or grown up men were so obsessed with? I sometimes do play rough with girls at school; we sometimes leapfrog each other, wrestle and sit side by side in the class. So what is it inside these big aunties that uncles spend so much money to please? I was determined to find out and I almost did that afternoon but I was quite unlucky.

It was a lonely afternoon. Almost all the people in the compound had gone to work so everywhere was quiet. When I was playing on the verandah, a lady from another room nearby suddenly dashed and headed to the shared bathroom at the end of the compound. I looked around for the dog but didn’t see it. Great! So I tiptoed to the backyard, climbed over stack of old blocks at the back of the bathroom and peeped in with my heart beating fast like jazz drum.

Normally, from the back of the bathroom, one can see the back of anyone taking a bath there but there was iron burglary covering the window. I was undeterred, quietly forced my head in-between the rods of the burglary and stretched out my neck to see a better view of ‘what is on the woman’s body’. Alas, I saw nothing. She only came to pee so she squatted and didn’t take long before adjusting her wrapper and dashed out of the bathroom!

I was so mad and disappointed with myself. I didn’t even know it was the beginning of my ordeal that afternoon. When I pulled my head back from the burglary, I was struck. I pulled the iron apart with my small arms but my ear would not fold so easily without paining me. I started to sweat as if rain drenched me. I couldn’t shout for help. A million thoughts crossed my mind at the same time: What is someone catching me? What if the dog sees me and begins to bark? What if the blocks I was standing on suddenly break and I come crashing into the small open gutter below? I prayed that nobody should come to take a bath that moment. At last, I was able to force my head back but I bruised an ear as pulled my head backward with force after some trials. It was a very bad experience.

A similar case however happened the next day. Unknown to me, someone deliberately placed those blocks at the back of the bathroom. As it is usually the men who took their bath first so they could get to work on time, when ladies began to trickle out to take their bath, the crazy dude, a short guy like that, would sneak behind the bathroom, climb atop the blocks and begin to peep.

I must have dislodged some blocks underneath in my struggle to free myself from the burglary so when the man mounted the blocks, whether he was wagging his waist or stamping his legs in excitement, I don’t know. What I know is that I suddenly heard ‘gbooaaa!’ followed by a woman’s screams emanating from the backyard and rushed out to see what was happening. There he was inside the gutter drenched with washed off soap/bath water and crumbled blocks scattered all over him.

The lady in the bathroom, barely covered with her wrapper dashed out with her water bucket in her hand and emptied the bucket on the man who laid in the gutter as if he passed out. He didn’t have much choice because, I think if he got up and ran away, the street boys would catch him and that would be worse for him but if he remained in the compound, only the compound people would bash him or maybe it’s ‘defeated psychology’ that hit him… you know how knocked out boxers do lay sprawling on the canvass, that was how the man laid in the gutter.

When he didn’t get up, the woman grabbed his vest and pulled him up, applied some sweet blows on his head and used her long fingernails to pick his teeth. By then, the compound people had gathered around them. A man donated his table… they laid the man on top, tied his hands and leg to the table’s four legs and… you know what’s up… they whooped his ass and back with horse whip. The man got the flogging of his life. Afterwards they packed his things out of his room and threw them outside the compound.

Later people began to narrate the man’s many sins. The woman who stayed next to him said something I can’t ever forget. She said whenever it is midnight and the weather is hot, she sometimes sleep nude with windows open. Soon she would feel a hand caressing her body. She thought it was her husband and would let the hand roam wherever it wanted to roam… until one day, the husband woke up one midnight to pee only for him to see a hand from outside the window… with fingers deeply immersed inside his wife’s honey pot. The husband’s first instinct was to grab the intruder’s hand… a mistake as he ought to have fetched a machete or knife first. As the husband grabbed the hand, the man sharply pulled off is hand and bolted away.

That same night, Uncle brought home another lady. As I was ‘CIA sleeping’ as usual, they began to argue. The lady insisted that Uncle wears protective garment but uncle said he had none in the house. He tried to force his stick into her but the lady locked her legs firmly together. He woke me up and told me to go sleep on the floor.

I had barely laid my back in the ground when they started to struggle again. The lady fought Uncle off and came to sleep beside me on the floor. Uncle left the bed, dived between us and later told me to go sleep on the bed. I sighed, got up and returned to the bed. They started their struggle again. The lady can slap o… as in, the kind slaps that reverberated from uncle’s body were deafening. When her slaps didn’t work, she got up and jumped beside me such that she laid close to the wall while I was beside her.

Uncle got up with arms akimbo, tapped my leg and told me to go sleep on the floor again. In my mind, I was like… “What kind of nonsense is this nah”? As I got up, the lady grabbed me and held me tight. She said she’ll rather have me than have Uncle since I am ‘virgin’. Their quarrel graduated to 300 Level. Uncle told her to wear her clothes and go back home. The lady said it’s too late; she won’t leave until the next morning. They swore, hurled abuses and foul words at each other until Uncle got tired, grabbed a pillow and slept off on the floor.

Remembering what the lady said about having me rather than Uncle, I decided to try my luck. I maneuvered my hand onto the lady’s tummy, she didn’t move. In my naivety, I started rubbing and massaging her stomach like that. A little while later, the lady grabbed my hand, held it still, gently lowered it into her hmm-hmm and used my hand to rub some wet stuffs on in that place. Trust me, inborn with massaging skills, I went to work and massaged her hum-hmm until she held my hand. Then she positioned her wrapper under her butt and tapped me to continue. I barely rubbed the place for a minute before she gushed and soaked my fingers with slippery pee stuffs. Then she tapped my hand to stop and wiped my hand with her wrapper.


Later she brought her hand over into my shorts and stroked something inside there. As if that was not enough, she slowly got up to check if Uncle was really asleep. He back was turned at us. Then she pulled down my short a little and gave me my first ‘bee-jay’. The sensations felt good. She later wore her undies, tied the wrapper over her waist and laid facing up on the bed. If I say I didn’t press breasts tire that night, I am liar. I woke up the next morning feeling ten years older. Of course, the lady had gone. Later after Uncle had gone to work, if you see how I carried my shoulders as I walked around the compound, you’ll think my father is the landlord.

My stay was unexpectedly cut short by an incident triggered by the stupid dog in the compound. At about eight in the night, a lady came to visit us. Uncle told me to follow him out to go buy something. At the grocery shop across the road, he bought drinks, sausages and gave me some. As we got back into our compound, Uncle told me to wait outside for him until he has finished discussing with his visitor and then I can come in to sleep. I innocently nodded my head, asked him to help me tear off the sausage’s package and skipped off to play. As Uncle dashed to his room, I couldn’t help wishing I had slept off earlier.

Then came the dog’s matter. It pursued a fat rat out of the compound and disappeared out of sight. I have never seen a rat run so fast. From eight to ten p.m, Uncle still hadn’t finished his discussion with the visitor. I got cold, bored and weary. Then  the dog came back and stared hard at me. In my mind, I was like… what is your problem nah, go back inside. Instead the stupid thing began to bark at me and later started to growl. Me too, I got angry, took off my slippers, aimed and sent it flying into the crazy dog’s head. Whether a demon processed the dog or the dog processed a demon, I don’t know. It angrily shined its dentition and dashed at me.

I didn’t need invitation before I dashed indoors. The dog pursued me o. I tried to target Uncle’s room door but the dog was so close. I grabbed the nearest door handle, yanked it down and burst into the room. Most unfortunately, I bumped into husband and wife who were being intimate live. The woman quickly tied wrapper while the husband wore his shorts and asked me ‘what is the matter’? I could only stammer ‘dog o… dog o…’ The man got angry and told me to get out of his house. He did everything to force me out but I held tight to the door handle. He later called Uncle who chased the dog away, discharged his visitor and put me to bed.

The next morning, he took me straight to my parents. When they asked him why he brought me back so quickly, he said he was posted to another state for a short assignment so he had to do the needful. In my mind, I was like… ah, Uncle you can lie o. Why didn’t he just say I was disturbing his privacy? I couldn’t wait for school to resume the next week so I could narrate my experience to my group guys.

When school eventually resumed, the first day was bad. In my eagerness to rush off to school, I didn’t pay much attention to my dressing. I stopped along the way to pee and then… as I hurried off to school (I was already late), the people I met on the way would smile and nod at me. The school morning assembly was ongoing when I burst into the school compound. All heads turned around and looked at me. Some of my class mates burst into laughter. Then a teacher shouted at me to zip up. I looked down and to my horror saw my third leg peeping out of my short’s zip. I momentarily died.

I didn’t think I could endure the taunts from all the children in the school that day. I did U-turn and headed to back to the gate. The teacher shouted at the Security Guard to “hold am o… hold am o…” Hold me where? I ran towards the Guard, dived between his legs and bolted out of the school compound. After school hours, some pupils came to my house armed with chalks and drew graffiti on a little boy with a long stick pointing out of his hip, on our the outer walls of our fence. Small children can be mean eh.

I soon had my first taste of ‘real woman trouble’. I’ll try to summarize it as short as possible. After I got back from Uncle’s place, an Aunt came to visit for some time. You know how ladies sleep at night… they just tie wrapper or wear gown with nothing under. So that particular night, she came to sleep on my bed because everywhere in the house was full. As midnight came, I thought I could play the same game I played with that lady that refused Uncle touch her without protective garment so a little while after she settled in beside me and slept off, I gently slid my hand under her wrapper and begin to creep into her hip confluence. The Aunty didn’t move. I thought she was enjoying it like the other lady so I crooked my fingers and dived it into ‘the place’.

You can imagine what happened next? Aunty screamed, grabbed my hand and applied three quick slaps on my wrist. The slaps paralyzed my hand. Then she jumped out the of bed and ran out of the room. The next moment, I heard my mom call my name. Who wants trouble? I pretended to be asleep. Mom called me again but I didn’t answer; I shut my eyes tight. I was thinking about the lie I would tell to defend myself when a super-hot slap landed on my face. Oh boy eh, I saw seven stars. Mom dragged me out of bed to the living room and made me kneel down. Dad came out of his room with his Moroccan leather belt, sat disappointed on the chair and asked me to confess my sin.

It was then that I understood why the short peeping tom just laid in the gutter after the blocks crumbled under him. I didn’t know what to say. If I tried to talk, a thousand words would want to force themselves out of my mouth at the same time. My heart was beating like jazz. That was how they carried me on the center table for dad to design my bottom with twenty-five lashes of leather belt.


5. The Adult Side

So I finally turned eighteen! Those were the years when western adult films began to flood the internet and film shops. Just like the guys in my age group, we used to download all manners of rubbish and carry them about in our phones. A distant elder cousin once saw the stuffs in my phone and… she raised hell fire. She preached to me from morning till night about the dangers of watching indecency… how it destroys home, kills the soul and destroy homes as it makes husbands become dissatisfied with their wives. Please help me ask her what concerns a teenager with husband and wife matters.

If I used file hide app to hide the files, she had a way of knowing where I hid them because after ‘borrowing’ my phone overnight, the night morning, the rubbish I hid away were gone. I soon got tired of keeping soft copy and… you know how guys do… during private time, we shared those stuffs. That was how I got some adult CDs from my class guy who had tons of them at home. After watching them at midnight, I hid them away under my bed.

Cousin Sister had just finished ‘National Service’ at the time and was job hunting. So most of the time, she was at home. I couldn’t finish watching all the CDs that night because there was power failure. I had to use screw driver to open the DVD player’s cabinet in order to retrieve the disk before going to school. When I came back from school, the generator was running… something quite unusual as we only put it on at night.

I knocked at the door but Cousin Sister refused to open it so I went to the window to see what was going on. Sister quickly adjusted her wrapper and shouted at me to close the window and go put off the generator. When I came back the door was open. As I walked into the house, the air smelt funny… and the smell made me horny. Till today, I don’t know what my sister sprayed into the air that made joystick stand misbehave the way it did. She told me to wait in the parlor so she can get some money from her room for me to go buy something for her.

I noticed she was hiding something under her top so as she walked past me, I don’t know what came over me… I bumped into her. Guess what? The CDs I borrowed from my friend and some other ones fell from tummy and splattered on the floor. I tried to look into her eyes but she avoided my gaze. The embarrassment must have been much for her. So ladies too like watching indecency but my sister had been pretending all the while. That’s women for you. Later when I asked her for the disks, she sharply told me to “shut up!”

Later in the night as I logged on to my chatting app, I got talking with a girl from my school, same form but different class. Along the line I told her about my Cousin Sister’s attitude and she said I shouldn’t mind sister because she’s just being shy. I asked her if she isn’t shy too and she said no, she doesn’t like pretending about her feelings. So I summoned some courage and told her I’m still inexperienced and she said wow, come and let me teach you some things. I said that is not possible as I can’t leave home without anyone asking questions and we don’t even have anywhere we can be alone together.

She said that’s not a problem… that our church would be having a night vigil at the weekend and I could tell my parents I’m going to Vigil, divert to her place where we would have fun till twelve and then I’ll rush to church when we are through. In my mind, I was like… great plan. I asked how I would get into her house since her people would be around but she said I shouldn’t worry. The next day I told my parents I’ll like to attend the church’s night vigil and they were surprised because they know how stony my heart is when it comes to sermons. They said okay, I can go. I was happy.

The next day at eight pm in the night, my friend buzzed me to come over to her place. I hurriedly dressed up, borrowed my mom’s giant bible and rushed out of the house. Instead of taking the road to church, I looked right, looked left and ran to my friend’s street. When I got to their house, everywhere was quiet. I sent her message to come open the gate which she did. I gentle walked inside the compound and asked about her people. She said everybody had gone to vigil. So why didn’t she follow them? She said she pretended to be having heavy flow so her mother told her to rest at home. That’s it, I’m going to enjoy myself tonight!

When we got into her house, I made sure everywhere was empty and then grabbed her, hugs… kisses… and smooching. She said she hasn’t had supper so I should relax while she prepares something to eat. I followed her to the kitchen and there I masticated her tits while noodle boiled on the cooker. Then we went to the dining room to eat. After eating we headed to her room for show time.

You know how it is done, don’t you? After going unclothed, she masticated my tin-tin till I almost died from sensations. I told her ‘hey babe, it’s okay, let us bang nah’. She said no problem, took off her pant, laid on the bed and raised her legs into the ceiling. so I climbed on top o. As I was about to slide my pestle into her mortar, we suddenly heard “Gbam! Gbam!! Gbam!!!” from the gate. Barbie shoved me off her, opened the window and shouted “who is there?!” Behold, the reply came thus “It is your elder brother o, come and open the gate!” The next second, a car’s headlight flooded the whole gate area. Her parents were outside the house!

Holy shakurababah, come and see panic! I skipped from my friend’s room to the kitchen to pick my trouser and boxer and then flew to the living room to pick my singlet, shirt and bible. After that we started running helter skelter around the house looking for where I could hide. Just then we heard “Bang! Bang!! Bang!!! Open the door!” My friend began to fart as if she ate a mixture of beans egg and acidic drink. She dragged me to a room, dived under the bed and told me to come and join her there. I dived under the bed too and told her “this is your house nah, you don’t have to hide.”

Just then the door flew open. From under the bed, I saw eight legs. They were shouting my friend’s name urging her to bring out the idiot she is hiding immediately if she doesn’t want to get disowned. They soon began to leave the room until it remained the last pair of foot and then… my friend farted very loudly. What makes women fart whenever they are anxious or whether some women have farting machine inside their body, I don’t know. The last person in the room turned around, headed to the bed, lifted up the mattress and flung it aside.

My God, my God, why is it always me? Other people fuck and fuck anyhow they wish without any problem. But me, if I touch a woman, heaven will fall on my head. I have not even put my spoon inside the plate before devil came to pour sharp sand inside my food. The guy dragged me out of the bed, slapped my friend on the face and… other people came in and bundled us to the living room. I thank my stars that her father is such a cool headed man though, otherwise, I could have been castrated that night because that was what her mother and brothers wanted. My friend is their only daughter.

We were made to kneel down and then her father started asking me questions. He asked if I am his daughter’s boyfriend. I said no we’re just friends. He asked if I like his daughter. They did not born me well to say no… I said yes. He said okay, since you like her, you are going to marry her tonight. Her brothers quickly dashed inside and returned with a gown and suit. They made me wear the suit while my friend was slapped to wear the gown. The brothers also donated two rings. Her father then took my mother’s Bible, preached some marriage stuffs from it, said a short prayer and declared me and my friend are now husband and wife!

The next minute, her brothers went inside and returned with all my friend’s stuffs haphazardly packed into three bags. They collected my phone, searched out my dad’s number and gave it to their father. When their father dialed my dad’s number from his phone, his face lighted up. He asked me… is Chief Generous Owen your father? I said yes sir. He said fine, let us go and see our in laws. The brothers carried my friend’s luggage on their head to the car, cramped all of us in and drove us to my dad’s house. My people were already waiting outside the gate.

What happened next is a long story I think it is better I stop here. Her people left my friend at my place so she slept in my house that night. Of course, dad tried to flog me in front of her but I seized the belt and threw it away. I am no longer a baby nah. If I may add, a stupid neighbor boy who had been making passes at my friend but she turned him down; saw me going into her parent’s house. The wicked guy took a bike to the church and went to report what he had seen to her brothers.

Then I got into the university and some freedom too, away from home. My next attempt to be intimate was equally unfortunate though not so embarrassing like the former one. I met this fair chick at one canteen like that and we got talking. After some time, she agreed to come over to my place. When she came, I didn’t waste time before I rushed her. As I took off her clothes, I noticed her skin tone isn’t proportionate. Her face, neck, hands and feet are yellow; thighs, chest and tummy are light brown while are hip region is a coat of many colors. What kind of bleaching is this?

I wore protective garment, spread her legs apart and was about to enter the place when I saw patches on her pubic area. The place looked like a leopard’s skin. What I saw discouraged me very much. My rod fell like a mango tree at 140 km/hr. The lady tried all she could to get the rod to rise again but it blatantly refused to budge. The lady wore her clothes, abused me, said I am impotent and stormed out of my crib. My people, is it by force that I should do it with her? After she had gone I began to recall things, my rod suddenly rose hard and strong again. I was quite annoyed with the rod for disgracing me before a woman and used a ruler to flog it. At least, the stupid rod should have got up to enjoy her mouth action.

So I finally got intimate with my first campus girlfriend. Please wait till you finish reading the chapter before you say you are happy for me. She is older than me though… two levels higher but very nice and humble. After performing all the styles I knew on her, I decided to try a new style. I wanted to act superman so I stood up and carried her while she wrapped her legs on my back. As I started hitting her from below, babe went haywire, cried, begged and …. You know how ladies do when they hit jackpot: babe suddenly began to wriggle and twitch while she was still in my arms. My knees suddenly jerked and I fell backward under her weight.

The next morning, I woke up surrounded by babe, friends and neighbors… with a heavy turban on my head… in a nearby clinic close to my crib.


6. When It Comes To Lovers’ Issues; Never Ever Interfere

There are times when I often involuntarily find myself entangled in lovers’ issues. The first time I can remember I suffered for touching lovers matter was when, during University admission process, I had to go stay my married Uncle. After taking on the University’s assessment test, I wasn’t in a hurry to go back home and clearance was two weeks away so I decided to stay put. At first, everything was fine in the house. The couple tried to make things look like they were perfect until one evening, Uncle decided to go see his friend some streets away but his wife said he shouldn’t leave the house because it was late.

So there they were at the door arguing with each other while I gently sat in a corner watching TV. Uncle suddenly turned to me and asked what I thought about their talks. I chuckled and said as long as he comes back by eight pm, I don’t see any biggie. His wife asked me if I don’t mind seeing Uncle return home with tales of how he was robbed and manhandled by miscreants. I replied that she should relax, everything is okay outside and Uncle would be back soon. She gave me one big sullen look and stormed to their bedroom. Uncle thumbed up at me and genuflected out of the house. He returned about an hour later with a bag of groceries.

When it was time for supper, rather than serve me as she usually does, she told me to go pick my food from the kitchen. I didn’t read any meaning into that so I casually strolled to the kitchen to pick my food and joined them at the dining table. While eating… I wanted to eat meat… as I bite the meat… it was all bones o. If you see how sullen I looked as I watched Uncle and wife as they devoured their fat pieces of meat, you will feel sorry for me. I didn’t have mind to talk though since it is not my house. My mom can’t try that shit at home. I will empty the pot of soup for her that night and nothing will happen.

The next morning, uncle had to hurry out to work. What I had for breakfast was just pap and sugar. From till afternoon, hunger flogged me. I had to go buy biscuits and malt to eat towards the evening because she locked the kitchen when going to work so I couldn’t assess the kitchen even if it is to cook noodles. When she came back in the evening, I greeted her but she didn’t reply. I wondered why her attitude towards me suddenly changed. In the night she cooked jollof rice but all I got was the rice at the bottom which is usually burnt.

The thing that pained me most was that after eating that night, Uncle asked me to type something for him on his laptop while he and his madam settled on the sofa and began to play love plays… you know all those nibbling, stroking, and pinching lovers do. After typing, I presented the work to Uncle and he said thanks. As I turned to go my room, wife called me back and asked if I had a girlfriend. I said no. she shouted… “Ah… so you don’t have a girlfriend and you are judging matter between me and my husband, you tried.”

Nobody told me before I realized I had overstayed my welcome. I quietly called uncle aside the next morning and told him that I was going back home the next day. He was surprised and asked if we I had done my clearance at school. I said no, I’m missing my mom and want to go see her. He said he needs me to do some typing for him at weekend so I should wait till the next week before I leave. I almost fainted. Is this how I am going to suffer?

As per paddy-paddy things, I quietly told him… “Didn’t you hear what your wife said yesterday? I think I have overstayed my welcome o. It is her house and I don’t want to be seen as being an intruder.” Uncle said… “Whose house?! It is not her house, it is my house. I married her and brought her here. Don’t mind her attitude; just keep on being nice, over time she’ll get over it.” I said… “Okay, but I‘m broke o.” He said I shouldn’t worry. A few minutes before Uncle went to work, I heard them argue about money. Uncle said he’ll give her the money later but Wife insisted he give her the money. After he left for work, Uncle sent me a text message to go check something under the dustbin outside. When I picked the package, I saw a fat wrap of cash in it!

The next days I spent there, the more I tried to be nice to Uncle’s wife, the more she acted weird to me. If she’s going to work, she’ll lock all doors in the house leaving only my room door. Uncle came home one afternoon to give me some work to type and he was furious when he met the kitchen locked. You can imagine a man having to go buy chilled water outside because his wife locked the kitchen? What makes women exhibit attitude over mundane irrelevant issues, I don’t know.

I rarely eat in the house again after uncle gave me the money because what she used to serve me, even a starved dog will not eat it. She was angry when I didn’t eat the shit she served one Saturday morning: watery beans and dry bread. Since then, I would either flush the things in the toilet of pour it down drains. I can’t eat poison because I want to please a pussycat. It was sad for me though, for a lady who is nice to me to suddenly turn cold because of a simple comment. When Uncle eventually gave me permission to go home, I was so relieved… and I never went to visit Uncle again. He wanted me to stay with him at University but I politely declined and rented my own place.

I have a cousin whose boyfriend very fond of misbehaving. If he did not cheat on her today, tomorrow he would tell her some crazy lies. Every time such happened, she would come complain to me and cry on my shoulder. I advised her so many times to cut off relations with him but you know how some girls do… just kneel down to beg them even if you killed their father and they’ll forgive and forget everything instantly. Today they break up, tomorrow they make up. Their matter really got me tired.

So that afternoon when she came to my place in tears because the idiotic boyfriend didn’t or forgot to wish her “happy birthday” (why do ladies make so much fuss about birthday?), I decided to save her from future agonies and help her end the relationship permanently. I composed a nasty, strong worded text message warning the guy to stay off my sister, sent the text to him and patted sister to sleep. I soon fell asleep too.

I was enjoying a dream of me being in a fiery wonderland when I felt a stinging slap on my shoulder. When I opened my eyes, sister was starring angrily at me with her phone in her hand. The crazy boyfriend had forwarded my message to her with some soft apologizing words. The thing that both annoyed and pained me is that… the same sister I was trying to relieve of a toxic relationship started asking me nasty questions…: “Why did you send this bad message to my darling boyfriend? Do you want to break my relationship? Don’t you know my boyfriend is very loving and caring? If he leaves me because of this message you sent him, where will I find another boyfriend like him?”

If not for the fact that she’s my sister, I’ll have used a hammer to knock sense into her oblongata. Don’t get me wrong, I do not advocate violence against women but this is just annoying. The same person I was trying to protect from harm is now rebuking me for telling her tormentor to back off. I started to regret ever listening to all she had been saying about her bastard boyfriend or comforting her all the times she came to me crying. Who even sent me message to text the guy nah? I washed my hand off all her “matters” henceforth.

The next times she came again with her issues shortly before they finally broke up, I acted as if I were deaf, blind and dumb. Please don’t say I am being harsh. She didn’t send me message to text her boyfriend; me too… I didn’t send her message to continue dating him. If she likes, she can commit suicide on his neck; that is her problem.

The last time I got into lovers mess, it was… problem by proxy. A distant uncle who lived in my area said he was expecting a guest at weekend but since he didn’t have any spare room at his place, I should accommodate the visitor for at my place at night. The guy is married with two lovely daughters. I said okay, no problem. From morning till night, I neither saw Distant Uncle, nor his visitor. Just before midnight, I heard a knock on my door. I went to check who is knocking and behold, DU was outside with one fine shapely lady.

I thought the visitor he was referring to is a guy but was surprised to see it’s a lady. He said she was his friend at college and she was travelling somewhere the next day. I said no problem, got a room set for her and went to bed. I barely closed my eyes when DU came and said he’s going home. I bade him goodnight, locked the door and slept off.

The next morning, he came quite early to see her. He bought some chops for her and they got talking. I needed to do an assignment that I had to submit on. I didn’t have a PC at the time so I went to a bros place and borrowed his laptop for the night to do my assignment. When I got back home, DU and his lady friend were still at my place chatting. I asked if she’s wasn’t going again today; she said tomorrow. The only thing on my mind that moment was my assignment so I sat down and began to work.

Late in the afternoon, DU got a call from his wife that their younger daughter is sick so he bade goodbye and hurried home with promise to see his friend later in the evening. However, when evening came, he didn’t show up. In the night, I prepared supper and called out to my guest to come eat but she didn’t respond. I knocked on her door but it was locked and I got no reply. I shrugged, ate, continued working till late in the night and dozed off.

Early the next morning, I was woken up by DU’s friend. She said she’s hungry. I told her there’s some rice in the kitchen; she could cook some to eat. I got up and went to the toilet to pee. When I returned to my room to put finishing check some stuffs on my friend’s laptop, I didn’t see the laptop on the bed again. I searched everywhere in the room, I didn’t see the laptop. I thought maybe DU’s friend took it and went to her room to ask her. I knocked and got no reply. Then I opened the door and what I saw shocked me; the lady and her stuffs were nowhere in the room. I ran out as if I could find her but she was gone… with a laptop I borrowed to do my assignment.

I quickly wore my clothes and dashed to DU’s house. He assured me that he’ll get the laptop back from her by evening time and I should relax. Though I was anxious but I tried to calm down. I asked him to tell me more about the lady and he and the same things he told me earlier; she’s just a friend at college. His wife noticed my apprehension and asked if her husband owes me some money. I calmly said no and went home. That day was one of the longest in my life as I impatiently waited for the sun to set.

In the evening I went to see DU for the laptop and he started telling me cock and bull stories that he wants to call Police to arrest his friend… bla bla bla. It was then I knew something was wrong and told him to give me the lady’s number. I got her digits and started communicating with the lady. I asked her why she returned my hospitality with problems instead of appreciation and told her to sharply return my friend’s laptop if she doesn’t want to see my bad side. She replied that I should go and collect the laptop from DU since he’s the owner.

I told her DU is not the owner of the laptop; I borrowed the laptop to do my assignment. She said I should to press DU to pay her money otherwise she would sell off the laptop. I calmed her down and got her to talk some more. She said DU lied to her that his father owned the house, he owns the (Landlord’s) car parked outside and owns the laptop too; he only gave it to me to do my assignment. I was dumbfounded that someone I regard as an uncle could tell horrible lies like that. When I confronted him, the guy was so incoherent. I gave him two days ultimatum to recover the laptop or I’ll go make a complaint with the Police. DU didn’t only begged me not to go to the police, he also begged me to hush things and give him more time to recover the laptop. I ignored him and went to my friend to break the sad news to him. The reactions I got at his house were tough.

Friend’s elder sister pointedly accused me of aiding DU to cheat on his wife. She said I knew he’s a married man and yet I gave him space in my place with strange lady. To start with, I never knew the so called “visitor” was expecting is a lady. They came late in the night; at the time, I can’t tell them to sleep outside. All the while she was with me, she never game me any problem. Is it a crime to welcome a stranger referred to you by a relation into your house? It is not a crime to help people. My replies only seemed to infuriate the elder sister. She turned to my friend and blamed him for giving out the laptop to me. It was a very sad night for me.

The next day, I reported the issue to family folks. They talked with the lady who demanded for some money before she would release the laptop. The assumption of the people was that the lady is a prostitute and DU, after “eating” her, absconded and left her to find her way home.

On the contrary, I assumed they were casual lovers. You know how guys promise ladies stuffs just to get in between the ladies legs; that was what DU did. Maybe the lady refused to open leg after he had spent money, so he got annoyed any abandoned her. The lady on the other hand must have been hoping he’ll return that night so they’ll consummate things but instead she slept with a throbbing and itching mortar with no pestle to pound it for her. She therefore decided to steal “his laptop” as punishment for lying to her and abandoning her.

DU’s people put together the money required and sent a delegation to the girls place. They got the laptop back and handed it to DU to give me. DU started acting like chairman when I went to collect the laptop from him. I felt insulted and asked his younger brother to collect the laptop on my behalf when DU has convinced himself that he is a big man. I got the laptop later in the day and returned it to its owner with so much relief. The next time anybody says he’s coming to my house with friend or “visitor”… you know how some useless guys do… I reply them with resounding “NO… go book a motel room.”

7. Problem By Proxy

Most of the problems we have to contend in our daily lives were actually created for us by some very dumb people. Though some of such people do not mean any harm or they never thought what they were doing would create tough problems for themselves or other later. Others are fully aware of the destructive nature of their venture and yet went ahead into it.

It is really emotional if you have ever been hit by life disrupting problems created by others. Sometimes when you look at it, the situation often looks hopeless because there seems to be no way one can escape from the mess. It is even more annoying when you have no hand or have no knowledge about the origin of the problem. You will try so many options and apply plethora of solutions. Some solutions might work but some other solutions would simply make the problem to somehow develop immunity and start mocking you.

Let me tell you about some real crazy problems that would make you ‘kill person’ if they ever happened to you. I had a friend who often came around the hood in various flashy cars. He would tell me how he invested a few thousands in a venture which yielded millions for him within weeks. If you ask him what venture it is, he would tell cock and bull stories. Well, that’s not the point. The point is that Mr. Rich Guy always has a retinue of girls who follow him about to help him eat and drink his money away.

Then one day, heaven crashed on the Mr. Rich Guy’s head. He parked his car improperly at a T- Junction with the butt of his flashy car inviting cars turning left or right to give it some doggy shagging. Irate drivers warned the guy to park his car properly but he was high on beer at the bar he sat and boasted that he’ll buy another car for anyone that has the courage to bash his car. The car not only got shagged in the butt, it got banged.

That was how one tipper truck heavily laden with sand came darting from the top of the T-Junction. The Tipper driver blared horns, waved at the parked car to get out of his way and… everything happened so fast, the tipper sank its head into the car’s butt. Apparently, the tipper had brake failure so it couldn’t stop or turn on time. After the cash, half of the car’s frame was gone.

So the Tipper driver called police. When the police came, they asked the guy for his papers. Lo and behold, the car is dad’s official car. A report was lodge to the dad’s company and he was immediately suspended from work and later retired. Papa parked a car; black-sheep son picked it, crashed the car and got his dad fired from work… that’s it! Now the Papa has other children whose school fees he has to pay but has lost his job. If you were the father, what would you do to your son?

That is trouble… trouble you know nothing about, but you have to carry on your head. And there are billions of people worldwide who are contending with these kind of problems… created for them by proxy.

In the Middle East, A crazy guy and his group of mad followers suddenly woke up one day and declared the whole region an Islamic Caliphate. You might say… “Well, it’s in the Middle East; that is their problem.” But it is not really the Middle Eat problem alone because such sects preach hate against other groups of people and are security threats to their localities and other countries as they open expansionist cells.

Then a snobbish American President criticized the group’s activities. The group leader ordered is fellows to kidnapped some American workers in their locality and shot them in the name of Jihad. The American workers who were shot, they weren’t the ones who criticized the group, were they? They got catch in trouble simply because one man far away said something about an issue that does not really concern him.

So the American President gets angry and sends some drones to bomb the crazy guys. Since bombs, no matter how smart they are cannot control the effect of their conflagration, they ended up burning few crazy sect guys and some innocent neighbors who had nowhere else to go.

The innocent neighbors who were bombed they were not the ones who kidnapped and killed the American workers, were they? You’re sitting down gently one cool evening when someone you didn’t offend in America sent drones to drop bombs on your head. Gosh, that’s very annoying!

So some hot headed middle east guys read news that their people and villages had been bombed. They got angry, went to New York, hijacked some planes and crashed them into some high rise buildings where thousands of Americans who don’t even know where the Middle East is on the map are working. Many people died and suffered losses and some were maimed!

The Americans who were killed or injured in there terrorist attack, they weren’t the ones who ordered bombs be dropped on the Middle Eastern village guys, right? Why can’t the terrorists go crash the planes on the White House? You’re sitting in your office thinking about your loved ones when folks you don’t even know from jack came from nowhere and crashed a plane on your head! Damn, that’s bull shit!

The same President who sent the drones to bomb the villages again sent marines backed by Apaches, fighters and bombers to go rout out the crazy Middle East guys. Of course, war cannot differentiate between who is innocent or who is guilty so military guys ended up destroying the whole country!

Now imagine you’re in one town in the Middle East country and a tomahawk missile fired from the sea suddenly lands in your neighborhood and destroys your house. Were you the one who went to America to hijack planes and crash them on innocent people? Why did the Americans come from thousands of miles away to destroy your house? Why can’t they simply go and arrest the crazy guys and leave your land in peace?

Then some other Arab guys in America got incensed. They concealed guns in their clothes, went to a pub where people were drinking and shot everybody. Now imagine you’re having a drink with a friend at a bar and one guy you neither knew, nor offended suddenly brought out a gun and shot at you. You aren’t the one who sent the Marines to fuck up his country? Why can’t he go and shot the President?

So what’s the moral of all these stories? The point is that… one or two people will sit down in a cool, cozy chair and ‘use remote control’ to create tough problems for thousands of people who are trying to eke out a living from their daily work and business. The few people who create problems are hardly ever affected by it. It is people who know nothing about the decisions they made that bear the brunt of their mistakes and they can’t even avoid being entangled in the problems created for them because they have nowhere else to go.

The most annoying thing about ‘problem by proxy’ is that in most cases, the person that gave one the problem is ‘untouchable’ and they cannot clear the mess they created. They will find another person to blame for their error, fire the person if they can and then move on to another location or serve out their term in office without feeling a pinch of the heat they created for other people.

If you consider the amount of money, enjoyment and privileges that sect leaders enjoy, from their point of view, it is worth all the troubles they created. If someone give you a million dollars and machine guns to go wipe out some people, for folks with mafia mentality, the offer is very hard to refuse.

For the President on the other hand, the feeling of power is sweet. Whatever you say, people do it as if they are zombies. It’s all about money too. The defense budget of country sometimes gulps up to forty percent of a country’s entire budget. Now imagine the amount of money a president would command if there is insurgency in his domain. The sum is huge and very irresistible.

So the president finds a way to create trouble either by inciting other folks or covertly creating splinter groups that will foment trouble so they can budget extra large sums of money to buy some military toys and blow the rest of the funds on frivolities.

Most of the times, people who desire to foment trouble often show signs that they intend to do something crazy before they start their palaver. No one should tell you that rain is about to fall before you begin to look for shelter. If you a group of rowdy thugs who are high on marijuana are having an argument beside you, if you remain there and they break a bottle on your head, you will only have yourself to blame.

I must however admin that in some cases, there are often poor people in trouble spots who have nowhere to move for safety because they cannot afford it. Some others had no prior warning that trouble is coming their way. I was completely dumbfounded when I saw the picture of an unfortunate young man shot dead for a crime he did not commit. He went to buy dinner at cafeteria and while he was eating, policemen in pursuit of miscreants fired shots in the air. A stray bullet hit the young man while he was eating. If man should die, why should he die in that manner?

My dear, at the end of the day, what’s gonna be is gonna be. They say life is all about being immersed in problems and solving them so that one can grow intellectually. So whether we like it or not, people will continue to create trouble for each other until the world goes kaput.

Some people are born to create trouble. Adolf Hitler is a very good example. How can one man single handily plunge the whole world into such a messy and costly war? The most perplexing thing is that all the soldiers and civilians who died in that war have absolutely nothing to do with Hitler. They don’t even know road to Germany. If I am a soldier and one stupid president sends me to go and fight ISIS, I will just disappear… not because I’m a coward; but because it doesn’t make sense to go fight for a stupid cause I will not carry with me to heaven when I die.


8. To Be A Man Is A Problem

I’m going to start a debate about how men are more responsible that women in the in the real aspects of life. Of course, as a guy, I’m going to present my viewpoint from the Alpha angle.

To be a man is a problem, believe me. I am not saying it is easy to be a woman, but simply put, there are many “targets” a man is supposed to meet that women aren’t required to bother themselves about except they’re compelled to. Traditionally, women need men to take care and provide for them. Any woman who says she doesn’t need a man to take care of her because she is earning millions is being economical with the truth.

As a man, you are expected to set standards and attain society imposed targets so that the younger men can look up to you and say “I want to be like Mr. Mr. Man”, He is expected to go explore the woods and carve out a stable income earning drum that he will beat and will produce money for himself and his younger ones and then go set up his own home. I don’t have any problem with that really, it is good for anyone to be able to stand on his/her own.

But once the man has set up his home, then he is required to go look for a woman to “put” inside the house. No woman, no respect. Even a man who has achieved much before he enters his middle age, if he doesn’t have a wife, people will look down on him. I can still remember one day a young girl was messing around my crib because of one useless boy and as I called her to advise her, she retorted “go and marry a wife”. So if I don’t have wife, whatever I do or say is meant to be tossed away?

I know women do have same issues when it comes to marriage, but when compared to men, their problem is small. When it comes to marriage, women have many options. As early as they turn 16, marriage proposals will start coming in. by 25, half of them are married and by 30, 75% are. They also have the choice of becoming one rich or crafty man’s second wife or concubine.  When it comes to having children, they start popping out babies as early as 16 too. The unpleasant actions that are meted out to women without husband or children are mostly perpetuated by fellow women themselves so excuse the guys.

Believe me, to set up a home and keep it running is not easy, talk less of bringing a wife in and having children. No man will be happy to see his family sleep hungry. If it happens, he has to take the blame. The woman can look for excuses and say to the children… “Your father is not doing anything… the man I married is a poor man… my husband’s salary is very poor….” I know you will say there are women who are the bread winners or contribute their income to maintain the homes… that is true… but let’s face reality, in their minds, most women resent having to drop a dime of their money for housekeeping.

This is very evident in unsavory attitudes that women usually put up when the man loses the source of his income. When money was rolling in, he gives to his wife anything she requires with a smile on his face. But once he loses his job or faces a downtrend due to no fault of his and the wife has to assume the financial responsibilities, she will start grumbling o… “I have been doing all of this… I have to do all of that… my husband only eat and sleep… he borrows my money and wastes it… bla bla bla”.

Even if she earns one million per month, she will still complain. The husband can buy you cars and other luxuries without complain, but women, they can’t give a man (except their pastor) anything whole heartily without being compelled to do so. That is why some men do things by hook or crook because they know if they go broke, even if their wives earn millions, they are in trouble. And if the wife has no reliable source of income either, it is even a bigger trouble.

Men and women can never be equal… at least not in the sense taking up responsibilities. When it comes to carrying the burdens, taking responsibilities and settling expenses, the women will say… “You are a man… I don’t have power… It is not my responsibility.” But when it comes to sharing the benefits, when manna falls from heaven, when it is time to eat, they will scream… Equality! Equality!! Equality!!! … to the high heavens.

If a woman dies, nobody asks what she left behind for her children. They just bury her, even if she doesn’t have anything, it doesn’t mean. But if a man dies, even if he is a bricklayer, people will still as what he left behind for his family. People will be looking his wife like “your suffering has just started”. As for the children, don’t even go there, they will begin to struggle daily.

So the next time you see a man hustling, whether he is on top of a house with hammer mending a leaking roof, driving a heavy truck or presiding over an organization, please show some respect because without men doing those stuffs, the world would probably grind to halt.


9. It’s a Crazy World


When I consider some of the crazy stuffs other people are doing or crazy stuffs they have done, I think I am the most gentle man in the whole wide world. Or what do you call this situation where I went to pick a parcel at a courier company in the airport and while waiting on the queue, one man raised alarm… “bomb o… bomb o…”

Within the twinkle of an eye, everybody scattered. Who wants to die? Everyone flew towards the nearest exit. People trampled on each other to get out. Even the people outside the building vamoosed. But curiously, the man who raised the alarm didn’t run; he stayed behind for about a minute and was hurrying out with the security guys swooped on him. When asked why he raised false alarm, he said he wanted to steal the package without the notice of the courier company staff so he decided to scatter the place.

Some people like trouble as fish likes water. If you beg and tell them you don’t want trouble, they will insist you go and bring it. I once took a faulty tablet with bad screen to a tech guy to repair and paid him the required amount for spare screen. After three days I went to pick my tab and to my chagrin, the guy told me to come back in two days’ time. Sometimes if I went to his shop, he would hide and instruct his assistants to tell me that he is not around.

When I eventually cornered him and asked for my tablet, he told me he misplaced it and would replace it the next week. A week turned into a month. I got angry and sent the guy text message that I’ll give him trouble if he doesn’t replace my tab the next Monday. The guy replied that he has no business with me and if I like, I should go bring police to his shop; they can’t do him anything.

Guess what I did? Instead of going to the police, I rang up a friend in the Army and told him my predicament. My friend arranged some other army boys in full military regalia and we stormed the guy’s shop. The stupid man didn’t only replace my device immediately, he also knelt down begged me not to jail him.

What baffles me most is why a businessman with reputation to protect castigated me until I brought uniformed personnel to his office before he did what he is supposed to do. What if I didn’t have friends in the army? I would have kissed my device goodbye. Some people are just plainly wicked and crazy.

Some people already have more than enough but are still hell bent on stealing from people who are already broke and penniless. Why would a comfortable billionaire on the Forbes list sponsor conflict to destabilize farmers in third world countries just because he wants to market harmful GMO seeds? In the same third world country, a senior official who is very well paid by the government was caught stealing bags of rice meant for internally displaced persons. How those wicked people manage to sleep with peace of mind in the night, I don’t know.

And It’s Now A Woman’s World

I feel like starting trouble! I know a lot of people are going to carry this matter on their head or turn it to hot debate after reading so I will strike the iron where I think it is hottest; the male-female dichotomy.


I got information from my former boss that an I.T company in partnership with Facebook is recruiting. I quickly dusted my credentials and headed online to apply for the job. When I opened the recruitment portal, I was bemused to see “FEMALE ONLY: Male Application Will Not Be Considered” boldly written on application page.


Is it now a crime to be male? Seeing the notice somehow made me feel like, in this age, it now worthless to be male. As a male, you have to work and sweat to earn and keep your job. But in some sectors these days, some other people get all the jobs not because they are the most qualified, but simply because they’ve got puss and boobs.


All my life, I have never seen any job that is expressly tagged “Male Only”. Any company that tries that will come under the fire of the social media for discriminating against women. But if the job is tagged “Female Only”, you will not hear anybody complain. Later will be shouting on the pages of women magazines that husband is scarce. Why won’t husbands be scarce when they have taken all the jobs?


One of the things I dislike most about today’s women is their hypocritical nature when it comes to giving help to their male counterparts. I cannot count the number of times ladies have come to me to help them with one task or the other. Each time, I do my best to help them as best as I can. But when I am in need of a little assistance and I ask the ladies I helped earlier to sort me out, they will give one hundred and one reasons why they cannot lift a finger to do simple thing for me.


Men do not like to ask ladies for help because of that attitude. And that is also why some other men insist on sexual gratification before they help women because they know that after burning their energy to help a lady, if they need help on something and ask the lady they helped before, it will be like trying to squeeze water out of a stone. If you are not a lady’s boyfriend or blood brother, forget it, most of them ladies will never help you with anything.


It’s not about money, if that that’s what you’re thinking. At work or school, most times it is the ladies that ask guys to help them with their work and guys will gladly assist them. But try asking the same lady to help you with a little portion of your work and she will do as if you’re asking her to help you carry Mount Kilimanjaro.


Let me confess though, that men have enjoyed their time too. Since time immemorial, men have dominated virtually all careers the world has to offer. There were times when a man could marry 30 wives and no one would blink an eyelid. In social and political affairs, women had no say. So in this age when they have the chance to rule the world, well, let them enjoy the bonanza while it lasts.

You might ask if I’ll love to substitute my dick for a pair of puss and boobs since it’s now a woman’s world. Hell no, I’m very happy with my dick. Just like women would rather keep their puss and boobs than go die in some stupid war; I’ll rather keep my dick than be having to wear nonsense on my hair or paint my face every day because I want to look beautiful.

Please come and tell me how you’ll describe a scenario where feminists say they don’t need a husband, but they go and buy sperm for in-vitro; they don’t need men to satisfy them sexually but inside their closet, they have at least three dildos of different sizes and shapes. It is okay, we are watching them in 3D.


The End