[ Final Closure ]

I had this ding dong affair with this cute babe way back. 

Beauty and loads of brain.

We got to know ourselves via a rather weird circumstance that I’ll not talk about. This moment she was dating someone . . . Next moment I wasn’t also available when she was.

Eventually, after a long period (stretching into years) we both hit it off.

Then the real issues . . . One of the most stubborn woman I’ve ever encountered . . . Apart from calling a spade a spade, she’ll even call it an excavator sef . . . We fought unnecessarily over little insignificant things and argued over everything . . . She was too dramatic for my reality so I jeest stepped aside . . . “Mo fuun rami legbe gbe” . . . “I comot for road patapata”. 

Once beaten . . . Twice shy.

We remained best of friends however . . . So, one day she brought up the issue of blood type, etc:

‘Shebi you’re ‘AS’ sef ?’ she asked.

It was then it even dawned on me we never even had enough time to discuss that.

Not so convincingly . . . “YES” I told her.

‘I always thought so too’ she concluded, sighing that she finally had a reason that it didn’t work out.


Kikikikikikikikikikiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii !

@ O’Shine Original . . . 

[ Kiss of Life ]

Yesterday was crazy . . . Absof.ckinglutely so too.

I had woken up to a frenzie of activities, dashing from one point here to another point there across town . . . An overwhelming experience so to say.

The pacifier anyway being that the birthday gifts kept on coming in, even when it’s almost 2 weeks after I became officially fifty years young by attaining the golden age.

A feat even my late father could not surmount. It surely has been God’s grace no doubt.

It’s been beyond imaginable. Quite so memorable and indeed fabulous it has been.

So on that fateful Saturday morning, 12 days after I turned 50 and a day just before I was to play host to my church society . . . A turn that comes once in 2 years and one which I had a month ago promised to treat members to an exciting time.

I dashed out quickly at about 8.40 am for an haircut few streets away . . . Akeem’s Place and then to Abe Igi to collect chairs, fans, plates etc . . . It’s to hold after the last Mass on Sunday . . . Meeting cum birthday celebrations . . . Had to buy some extra drinks too . . . Calls that I refused to pick were also coming in . . . I was working on a project that was due for delivery later in the day . . . An entirely unbelievable deadline it had been and those people had been on my neck . . . An unnecessary pressure that I had refused to suck up to, thereby ignoring their calls, afterall the delivery period was yet to lapse, I thought.

While driving out of the house, another neighbour was also hitting the road and had met up with me. 

‘It has been a long time’ she inquired . . . ‘Where have you been ?’

We chatted for awhile and along the way informed her I was 50 few days back . . . ‘Ehnnn, you were 50 and didn’t tell me’ she reacted angrily . . . If that’s the case, “Where is my gift ?” I asked. 

‘COME TO MY SHOP’ she said winking at me as she drove away.




I dashed across to my production facility to see what’s up regarding the pending delivery . . . He had called last night that delivery won’t be possible for certain unforeseen circumstances . . . He must be most unserious I had told him, angrily . . . He shouldn’t even think it.

I got to his place and managed to find space for parking down the street . . . Work was in progress as I could see but truly behind schedule . . . A little over half was going to be ready he assured . . . I ordered that he gave me 10 finished pieces and called client I was coming to show him how far we had gone. His location being miles away at Ogba. 

It was while I was about driving out that my egbon neighbour called . . . He had ordered a cake for me days earlier (Photo above . . . Thanks to Baba Ekky) and he was hooked somewhere, so won’t be able to pick it before the cake shop’s closing time at 4.00 pm . . . I was therefore required to pick it, especially that they don’t open on Sundays.

Ahhhhhhhh . . . Another added task to an already daunting day . . . Ilupeju here I come . . . Oh boy, the cake woman was a beauty to behold. She came out to wish ME a happy birthday as her girl delivered to my car . . . “Oh la laa”.

As I made to drive out . . . A call from a classmate in secondary school came in, AY . . . Himself and other guys had gathered at O’Jays at the national stadium . . . Everyone was there (To think I had been informed days earlier) . . . ‘Where are YOU O’Shine ?’ they asked.

Me that I was heading in a totally opposite direction to Ogba . . . “I am coming” I assured them . . . Lol.

I weaved through traffic and arrived Ogba with 10 finished pieces to my client . . . He was beyond happy seeing them . . . We agreed therefore to deliver before noon on Sunday. Then another call came in from AY, I had not seen him since 1984 that we left secondary school . . . “I was on my way” I once again reassured.

I left Ogba and headed home instead of going to meet the ‘boys’ at Surulere. I must take home the lovely cake as well as drop the drinks I had in my boot at home. 

Besides, I needed a change of clothes too. 

As I approached the expressway to my house, my big egbon, godfather to my son, former neighbour and townsman called me. He was in front of my gate. Right there at home. 

“I’m just 5 minutes away sir” I replied.

So I came home to another surprise . . . A huge one too . . . A lovely cream coloured 5 yards voile material from him to me (LOVE.ly o) . . . My goodness.

Then he left . . . On his way to see his 90something year old mum.

I ran into the house and changed . . . As I made to open my gate, AY called again . . . He was leaving but the guys were still expecting me . . . I became hugely discouraged but went all the same . . . By the time I got there, D1 had also left but I ordered him right back . . . He had been an MC at my wedding years back . . . It was good to see him again . . . The SP (Senior Prefect) was also there, same with Azu, Niyi, Josh, Christian and Adelani. 

My friend Tunde called as I downed 2 bottles of Orijin plus a plate of croacker fish and chips. 

‘Come and watch the Champions League final in my house now’ he said ‘And bring suya’. 

“Ooole . . . ”

I sha took suya there . . . I didn’t partake though cos I was full to the brim.

Got home past 10.00 pm, glad too that Liverpool were drowned in their own pool.


An exotic day it was . . . I won’t forget the icing on the cake . . . The quick visit in between time to my neighbour’s shop.

Filled to the brim to get my birthday gift.

(With 3 of her girls around and a customer)




As I left, she had said, smiling and licking her lips:

‘Your lips are so soft and tender’

Yeah right . . . The gift that is . . . Ishhhhhhh.

We had a kiss !




In celebration of the 29th Anniversary of my 21st Birthday . . . 50

I am 50 and FABULOUS !

@ O’Shine Original

‘The Second Time’

I was just a few months older than 16 and having terribly flunked my SSCE the first time, was required to resit the exams.

My sister found me a very good school, but far away at an extreme corner of the state. This required my going to stay at an aunt’s in FESTAC Town and then commute down to the school everyday . . . The plan was I attended classes like a

normal student from the beginning of the 2nd term till exams commenced. 

I found it most shameful and as such promised myself to squarely face my studies and pass the exams.

My aunty was a most pleasant person and thereby made my stay comfortable and easy. I had prior to then never stayed outside my home so it was a very strange experiment for me.

I started classes by going to school daily, in the school uniform too . . . I felt like a failure doing so which made me even much more determined.

I attended my classes most seriously and thereafter spent my free time at the school library. 

This was where I found out there were many such people like me too . . . Those who had come to retake their WASCE as well.

On this particular morning while reading, I had seen this quite petit and really glamorous beauty . . . She had come to read also, or so it seemed.

I introduced myself and that was it.

Ivie, a Benin Princess had finished from one of the girls only schools on Mainland Lagos and her parents had moved to the hinterlands, putting up a massive structure of a home about 3 streets from the school I had gone to retake my exams.

She took to me like a small child would take to cake and cream.

I was her small god . . . We were indeed both head over heels in love with one another. I had found the bone of my bones, my jewel of inestimable value, my wife.

Ivie had a close friend within school too, Tope whom I coincidentally had met at a party about a year earlier in Satelite Town. Tope was close friend to my late sister’s classmate, Taiye at Eva Adelaja Girls Secondary School. Taiye and I were great friends too so I dropped by once awhile at her Satelite Town abode.

Ivie, Tope and I became a threesome and cynosure of all eyes in the school . . . We were all inseparable. 

We did things, quite unthinkable things for kids our age . . . Bolting away during breaktime to Ivie’s house for lunch and returning to same pad after school hours . . . Sometimes to booze, dance, eat and . . . 

On one such occasion, while Ivie was cooking, she had slotted in a record by Ray Parker Jnr:

‘I don’t think that men should sleep alone’ was playing. 

Tope was on a rollercoaster with the booze and was by now obviously dead drunk . . . She had pulled herself up unto the dance floor, whinning and wriggling her waist to this most tempting beat.

I sat down and watched in wonderment . . . Waiting for my meal and nodding to the rhythm . . . I’ve always been a foodie.

Ivie came out from the kitchen, took a cold look at me and utter words in a most disappointing manner:

‘Gee, what are you waiting for ? Cmon take care of her’

I got up, very hesitant and moved up close to Tope who was too glad to wrap her full stretch of hands around me in a cuddle. Her rotund chest, with full blown twins resting on my tiny chest . . . In accordance with the wishes of my small madam, clasped my hands on her bum bum, squeezing like the gentleman that I’ve always been . . . Tenderly. Intentionally. Totally.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh . . . The distractions I had most honestly thought I would avoid by attending this bush school.

I’m sure ya all can predict the outcome of the exams that was to come.

O jigbi jigbi jigbi.

F9 sleep for ground aplenty . . . O suun lo ni mehnnn.

I failed most very painfully yet again . . . The second time around !


Ivie. Tope. Taiye.

Not real names . . . Locations too.


@ O’Shine Original 

‘Cold blooded murder’

I laid lazily on my favourite chair, the couch.
Sprawled and spread out, punching as had become almost customary on my phone.
In a flash, I saw the almost lighting-like movement; dark and smooth, could have been non existent, more like an imagination.
A blink of something, more imaginary than real.

It came from behind the chocolate brown console and had disappeared into my daughter’s room.
The crew; my son and girl were on the floor playing away and had no inkling anything had crawled in on them.
I was also in doubt but for the first time thought it right and wise to check.
This was becoming a reoccurring phenomenon.
I got up and walked to the room entrance.
Not a clue. I waited and yet nothing gave itself away. Something told me to rock the boat and I gave a wild kick to the clothe drawer directly opposite the door and the ghostlike shadow sprang out across the room and dived under the bed. Sighting it, the two kids on the floor sprang to their feet unto the bed . . . Both screaming on top of their voices.
Their wailing must have thrown real trepidation into the thingy as it once again reappeared and took off into the living room upstairs. Ran behind the couch and dodged under the long curtains. I dashed to my side of the house where I kept a broom. That was going to be my weapon. I came back in full fury, knocking about the settees here and there and the bloody thang ran out of its hiding once again, by now into my son’s room, effortlessly gliding through the small space under the door.
The move, so sleek. I took after it, both of us gasping for breathe. The thing much more than me. I ran after it with all my might and strength knowing my kids would practically freak out if they don’t see me finish it off. The floor tiles in the whole house was of great help too, it couldn’t get away as it slipped more than it could run.

I saw it gallop to the right handside of the living room and I lunged at it, a nice and powerful blow from the broom, a great hook it was. It ran back towards the door to the balcony and I took another good swipe with the broom. It was a tko, knocking it out. I now pummelled it to pulp to finally send it where it belonged . . . To hell.
Blood in my hands. 

The kids did not sleep in their rooms for the next couple of days thereafter. 

I hate crawlies around my house.
That was the third I murdered in a few days . . . They most likely came in when I celebrated my birthday in May.
Must have been when I had visitors coming and going through the door. 


I hosted my neighbours to a barbecue on Saturday too.
Soft drinks and water from Wazeman, Orijin Zero from Mr. Ekky, Red wine from Mr. Oni, Femi from one of the two new houses close to the expressway provided Asuun plus beer, someone else brought plastic chairs, Dare brought fuel for the gen when IKEDC took light.
Dr. Dee, Uzoma & wifey, Demola (Femi’s neighbour), Popson and the Akwa Ibom guy two blocks away also attended.
My place was the venue, that was all I needed to provide according to the guys.
We kicked off at past 4.00 pm, rocking it till almost 8.00 pm.

Despite sitting outside, my doors were opened now and then to take a lick or get a glass cup.


I had gone downstairs to the kitchen last night to get a cold drink when I saw it in a flash . . . Ahhhhhhhh, not again.
I turned the entire place upside down to snuff life out of it.

Those small devils, the tiny tots . . . I hate them so much.
Enough for me to soil my hands with their blood.

Rats !


‘One way ticket to heaven and back’

My friend laid on the couch in preparation of the last leg of their trip. The kids had a swell time indeed.

He had endured the long drive back from Orlando to Miami for the flight back to Nigeria.
The last plan was to drop his family at the airport and then quickly return the rented vehicle back . . . The thoughts played in his head as he prepared to catch a little nap.
All alone, outside the room where his wife and two kids; his boy, aged 5 and the lil sister, aged 3 were sleeping.

He was awoken by the heavy sounds from next door . . .

A young lady moaning . . . ‘Uh-uh-ih-ih-uhh’.
Moans accompanied by loud screams of ‘pappi-pappiiii-pappiiiiiiiii’.

Then a man’s voice calming her down. The very heavy breathing.
His chest heaved rapidly with heavy panting . . .

He was shouting too . . . He certainly made it to heaven and back in quick succession:

From his calculations, they were Mexicans.
He had lasted about . . . (?!/:;&@#$'”;.,)
Go figure.

Kikikikikikikikikikikiiiiiiiiiiii !


‘Kiss & Tell’

I got introduced to my ex wife around late February, 2005.

Events unfolded like a flash subsequently, I remember driving down to her office from a client’s.
With me in the car was my female assistant, Deola.
She must have been so impressed by the entire package that she could not hide it from me.
Problem was, how was she going to communicate that to me . . . Her oga pata pata.
Like I usually teach my people . . . There’s always a way, find it.

She found a way round it . . . Sending me a text that night:

‘Please, Mr. Gbenga . . . Don’t miss this one’

What effrontery ?
I had thought.
Anyway, it was all in good faith so I let it pass without raising an eyebrow.
Indeed, many more said things in the same light.

Funmi was remarkable, almost an unbelievable catch for me . . . She said same about me:

‘You are more than I asked God for’

. . . Always emphasising her fondness and affection for me:

‘I love you MEGA’

She said again and again.
This was to be one of what propelled and fast tracked our relationship.

I had met the father first, it was one of the days I had picked and dropped her at home. He was tendering to the flowers in front of the fence.
I got down to greet him and that was it, each and both of us taking to one another instantly.
This enabled me frequent their house even more; a five bedroom, 2 floors and 3 living areas plus 2 rooms boys quarters.
So I had gone visiting one late Sunday evening and had met the father all alone in the main living room down stairs and after our then usual tet a tet, urged me to go meet the daughter upstairs.

Everyone up there; herself, the two brothers still at home and their girlfriends looked so very surprised, an element of acknowledgement that I’d positively scaled the hurdle . . . I knew it too.

One down, the other to follow.

This other being her Mum, who was at that time holidaying with the second son in America.
Moni, my friend that was dating her third brother, had told me, scale this hurdle and you’ve done a great job of it all.
On their Mum’s return, my performance was spotless and pinpoint.
She also took to me like a fish takes to water.

The stage was set. Eyes fully and very firmly by now fixated on the prize.
I had in a jocular manner asked her one night to marry me and she had laughed it off. Not outrightly saying no . . . I knew I stood a good chance.
I slept over the matter, also praying fervently and then changing my strategy
by taking my pitch to her father one afternoon, during office hours. Afterall, the man was retired and I was most likely going to meet him at home.

I did met him as predicted and I hit the nail straight on its head.

“Daddy, I want to marry your daughter and I’ve come to ask for your blessings”

I had shocked him. Come see the man, all smiles. Sheepishly too.
We had a man to man talk and then a father / son discussion.
Therein, he advised me to proceed to the mother’s shop in Agege market to tell her exactly what I told him.

I did as advised . . . Over there, it was also smooth sailing for me.
On my drive back to the office, I had called their daughter to inform her of the
coup d’etat that just took place.
I was in charge.

Few days later, the father and I met with him asking when and how to meet a few members of my family.
I informed my Mum of the development and she was most ecstatic. She informed my sister and her own sister too while asking me to inform my uncle in Ikeja.
We then planned how we were going to see my big brother at his place in Ikorodu as well as my late Dad’s younger brother.
Myself, Mum, Sister and her daughter went on this trip on a Saturday morning, quite early too. We were at uncle’s first before my brother’s.

Prior to now, my brother had been having issues with the family, this had dragged for almost 2 years by now. He had stayed away from all family functions and members.
So showing up at his doorstep, he was taken aback to see up . . . He let us in anyway . . . Then.

My big sister had taken the mantle and had explained nitty gritty the reasons behind our coming.
By the time my brother started talking, the atmosphere was heated up more than a bakery. He took on my sister and then my mother. Painfully as it were, I sat quietly and grabbed a newspaper to read. I was boiling up inside of me nonetheless.
My brother compounded my state when he insisted I dropped the paper. I did and then confronted him. I was having none of it anymore. He can talk to me as he liked but I wasn’t going to look sideways if he should further insult my Mum or sister.

What followed in the next few minutes made operation desert storm child’s play.
On the long run, he and his family attended neither the introduction nor the wedding ceremonies.

We went ahead with the introduction first. Buying all sorts as gifts for the family of the would be bride.
We all gathered at the Adeniyi Jones Avenue home of my uncle, the Otunba and my late father’s first cousin and principal executor of his will. My father’s
younger brother and his wife had come there from Ikorodu. My big sister and her husband joined us at home, alongside my Mum’s younger sister, Mum and myself.
We joined the rest of the party at uncle’s Ikeja abode and set off to would be in law’s therefrom.
Only one friend, K-Fad did I inform. I was one of his groomsmen while also giving the toast at his wedding barely a year earlier.
He joined us over there.

What we met on ground was most unthinkable, a grand carnival so to say with an attendance of who is who . . . Canopies laid out and a catering stand for food, ikokore inclusive.
It can be said that they overwhelmed us with their crowd; uncles, aunties, cousins, brothers and sisters jam packed their compound.

We entered their living room first, my uncle and his wife with me and my Mum
following, then my father’s brother and his wife, my big sister and her husband, etc.
My father in law to be, grinning like a child had welcomed us into his home and instead of waiting for protocol to follow, had asked like a husband in too much of a hurry to see his wife:

‘Is this mummy ?’ pointing at my uncle’s wife.

“NO” I said categorically, holding unto and introducing my Mum.

Anyway, that aside . . . We were ushered to the canopies where the ceremony then took place.
We introduced ourselves, laughed and bantered as well as prayed fervently for the union to be a blessing unto the 2 families.
Worthy of mention is my mother in laws prayer to her daughter . . . She concluded this with tears streaming down her face:

‘Funmi . . . Ile oko, ile eko ni ooooo’

We wined and dined thereafter, with loads of photo sessions to follow too.
My soon to be brother in law, Kole had secured the services of a photographer . . . He had shockingly come to ask me for his fees the week after . . . Huhnnnnn.
I was dumbfounded, but gave him the money all the same. What I did after made them realise I wasn’t going to take such nonsense.

I took home the album upon delivery . . . Abi now.

Paying for a service I did not seek nor negotiate. One that I had a much better person I could have used . . . Gosh.
I had it all coming, but didn’t take it all too serious, looking sideways instead.

My Mum was born on Boxing Day . . . So
every 26th of December, we host a small gathering of family and friends . . . My would be in laws played a return leg on that day, visiting my family as well.
Aside family bonding, the wedding date discussion was also to start in earnest.

In January of the following year, my big sister’s mother in law passed to the great beyond. As it’s customary, all roads led to Oshogbo for the 30 days fidau prayers and party.
My Mum had gone days before . . . My own in laws, driven by their driver with me and would be wifey driving behind them also landed in Oshogbo on the morning of the event.

We stayed for the entire duration till night fall after which I followed them kilometers away to their hometown, Iragbiji . . . On her parent’s exact street, the father pointed out Ojuyobo’s family house to me. Her maternal grandma’s house is also on the same street, with theirs the last before a huge pile of rocks.
We had called on the grandma first to pay homage and then proceeded to their family house . . . A very big affair, one that made me wonder yet again why people put up such a waste in their villages. Anyway, the old man and I went round on a tour showing me this and that and a whole lot of stories behind every detail. Lastly, he pointed in the direction of a corner in his vast compound:

‘When I die, that’s where I want to be buried’ . . .

At night, he ordered his driver to take both myself and his daughter to the massive golf course in Ada, owned by his friends . . . The Ponles.
We came back tired and ready to sleep . . . I had in my mind more than the sleep though. I knew that was one huge opportunity I had longed for . . . Sleeping on the same bed with wife to be all night
long . . . She had evaded and outrightly resisted all my overtures till date . . . Not even a kiss . . . For me, this was the night. A kiss was even going to be child’s play . . . I was gonna roost her . . . . Damn.

I had all those thoughts going through my mind when the daughter asked very loudly to everybody’s hearing:

‘Daddy, where is Gbenga going to sleep ooooo ?’

In unplanned unison . . . Both parents screamed at her . . . ‘You both are sleeping in your room, on your bed . . . He’s your husband now’ they concluded.

What da f.ck ?
I couldn’t believe my luck. They had presented her to me for slaughter . . . On the plater of gold.

That’s how we entered the room ooooo . . . I yanked off my clothes while she covered herself all up.
“Hahnn hahnnn now . . . Baby kilode ke ?”

That was my story all night long . . . An effortless struggle.
No show oooo . . . Then I remembered I was driving back to Las Gidi around 3.00 am.

That’s how I kun kun put my head on the pillow and jejely slept off.
I suffer mehnnnn.

Lagbaja nothing for me !


‘How Stella got her groove back’

Stella and I had become really great friends in a strange and funny way . . . Our friendship blossomed from platonic to very sexual over time.

We laughed and enjoyed each other’s company, especially since we both broke up from our different spouses. 
She came around to my place more often and we spent great time together.
I still remember the night she called me mid week . . . There was a problem . . . We had not seen for awhile and she reeled it all out through the phone mouthpiece . . . She had been on sleeping pills for quite sometime cos she could not sleep . . . The pharmacist at the pharmacy she patronised had noticed her intake of the sleeping pills she got from them and had sat her down.

‘Don’t you have a boyfriend ?’ he had asked her innocently and jokingly, but most seriously.

‘You sure have a whole lot on your mind is the reason you’ve found it difficult to sleep’ . . . He teased her further . . . ‘Get yourself laid’ he concluded.

Her main problem was that she’s had no shoulders to cry on since her engagement to the guy of her dreams fell apart 6 months earlier, practically no one has been there for her except me . . . By that, she had become emotionally tied to me too.

‘Can I come and spend the night at your place on Friday ?’ she asked . . . “Whatttttttttt ?” I shuddered.
With Stella, no half truths, she said it as it is . . . Straight. Plain. Truth.

Truth is I had been so attracted too . . . What a luck . . . What the ?

The heavy workload at her workplace made it unrealistic for her to truly turn up Friday evening, to the extent I thought she chickened out . . . Lo and behold, Saturday night till Sunday morning was a blast . . . She woke up on my bed, having slept like a baby all night long . . . Refreshed and beaming with smiles . . . Finally getting up to have her bath at about 2.00 pm Sunday afternoon. 

The final word (Satzenbrau)
Getting shagged is therapeutic.
That’s how Stella got her groove back.

By the way . . . My name is Eddie !