‘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 !


“Failure is an Experience”

This was the day my whole world stood still . . .

Yeahhhh; yeeeeee; yesssss.
I got the job, I’d joined the big league, this was a whole new world to me . . . This was life, I thought to myself . . . After a gruelling 5 months long interview / tests I finally landed my dream job.

Take home pay was in excess of one hundred thousand naira per annum (Don’t laugh oooooooo cos this was ages ago).
The organisation exceeded all my expectations; no secretary cos I was to be my own secretary, I was also to be my own big boss, a totally new experience . . . Mind boggling experience it all turned out to be.
Unexpectedly, I wasn’t ready for that kinda challenge (at least not then), I was totally overwhelmed, completely knocked off my feet and hugely intimidated.

Everything went so fast, the trainings, the management sessions plus meetings, client visits, then the shocking news – We were to go to then very popular management retreat center in Ijebu Ode for a 3 days retreat and everyone of us including the 4 newly recruited management trainees were to do individual presentations.

Moku, Mogbe, Motidaran I thought to myself . . . One on one, I’m superb, but do a presentation to this whole lot, these guys sure can pose mehnnnn.

How was I goin to impress them, how was I going to shine my way through ?

I was even a pure computer illiterate and I had to do my presentation slides myself . . . That wasn’t much of a challenge though cos I learnt the use of a desktop computer in less than 10 days all by myself.
Did my slides perfectly well . . . I was given the task of reading from page to page Steven Covey’s ‘7 Habits of Highly Effective People’ and then to do a presentation on the first 4 habits.

I practised, presented to myself and my friends, reviewed and replayed the scenes on my slides: awake and asleep in my mind.
It all seemed perfectly well but I still wasn’t satisfied . . . I felt the butterflies in my tummy.
Then the D-Day came, the hour was finally at hand, my turn had come and I strolled to the front of the small hall; majestically – Carrying with me my glass of water while also remembering the managing director’s words the previous day:

‘You’re a showman once on the stage’

This was goin to be my show:

I did my intro, followed by my opening speech, threw a joke (they didn’t even laff) and then placed my opening slide to start my presentation.

I was not doing badly for the first few minutes . . . Then the unexpected happened.

I blanked out, dried lips, stone faced, shivering, stammering and starring at everyone in the hall; about 20 in all.

My 3 other friends; a female and two males urged me on, waving their heads or hands as well as winking at me but it was all too late.
I had thrown it all away, I’d messed it all up, I f_cked it all up.
That was it . . . The whole world, my entire world which a few weeks earlier was so promising stood still.

I had failed, disappointing not just myself but those who hired me.
I walked away stumbling, head bowed, heart shattered, ashamed, aghast, bewildered.

Few months after that incident I finally threw in the towel . . . I couldn’t take it anymore, I walked away; scared, scratched and charred.

Looking back, many times I fell but everytime I did, I have picked myself up and carried on . . . Everytime I remember what happened nowadays, I just laugh over it all knowing you never fail till you agree within you that you can’t succeed.

That was in 1996 . . . 21 years ago !


“If you’ve failed, that means you’re doing something – If you’re doing something, you have a chance”
– Robert Kiyosaki



‘TGIF . . . Thank God It’s Friday’

After a rigorous and tasking week, people my age always cheer up that the weekend has finally arrived . . . Yeeeeeeeeee.

As a very young and upcoming guy (YUPPIE), I remember one such Friday I had so much looked forward to . . . I had this freaking beautiful girlfriend in OSU, Ogun State University . . . She was dashing and everytime I took her to my friends, they were always in awe of her . . . ‘Your babe is beautiful’ they usually chorused . . . I always wished they never said so cos this was someone who couldn’t control the fact she was beautiful . . . She lerrit get into her head instead . . . I was always pissed too.

I had seen her one day in church, gaddemn shege . . . “Where on earth did she come out of ? I asked and was shown her older sis . . . I had met the older sis before, she had come to see their step sister who lived directly opposite a good friend of mine . . . My friend’s place was my hangout and I spent a lot of time over there. 

I introduced myself to the beauty and as you’ll have it, I got the necessary details off her . . . She was goin back to school that afternoon and had given me a description to her abode in school . . . Chaiiiiiiiii.

My good friend that lived opposite their step sis coincidentally also had an OSU babe so it was a match made in heaven . . . We hit the road together henceforth. 

She lived in her father’s country home.

On our first visit, she had entertained us at the sitting room, we didn’t even get a clue of the color of her room.
Anyway, one thing led to the other and we started dating . . . I started goin down to Ijebu Igbo all by myself . . . I actually bought 4 brand new tyres for this project . . . Chuckles. 

Then I started spending the weekends at her place . . . Bliss plus plenty fights too . . . Very stubborn girl I was to find out . . . We had lots of divergent opinions but I liked her all the same . . . She was too beautiful to let go so I took all the bull shit that came with dating a drop dead gorgeous beauty.
One of those things I couldn’t at that time comprehend was the fact that on the days I spent the weekend at her place, guys would always troop down to see her, my classmates she would introduce . . . Some had the guts to also sprawl and sit comfortably on her bed . . . To think this same babe never even let me into her room on my earlier visits . . . Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

We fought even much more . . . I was jealous . . . I couldn’t even take those snides mehnnnnn.

Then I decided I was gonna catch her red handed . . . It was the last chance too . . . She was finishing her final exams that Friday afternoon so I had planned to drop in unannounced for the weekend.

The plan was I would leave Lagos late . . . ERROR.

I left a few minutes to 7.00 pm that day and hit the Lagos – Ibadan Expressway enroute Ijebu Igbo.
Before you could say Jack, the entire route was in total darkness . . . The roads had no lightings and I only had my head lamps as aid . . . They were not enough.

A huge regret it was but I had gone too far and couldn’t even dare turn back by the time I realised it . . . A truck or bus or
whatever would just emerge out of a sharp bend with full lights on and impeeding my sight while I was also on top top speed . . . Gosh.

At a point, I ran into a ditch and my car grounded to a halt right there in the middle of the road . . . I had gotten to Oru by then so I wasn’t so scared cos I knew I was only a few minutes away from her place in Ijebu Igbo . . . I got down after having opened the bonet, checked and found out it was my battery head that shifted from position . . . I knocked it back into the right place and revved the engine back to life . . . As I inched closer and closer the thought of nicking this babe of mine finally wif another boy sweetened me . . . I needed something to hold unto to call off the entire thing . . . A valid excuse . . . Lol.

On getting to Ijebu Igbo, the whole place was in total blackout and I missed the turning to her house on the main road . . . I drove further down with the intention to do a left turn and then drive back to her place.

As I made the turn, the entire world came crashing down . . . An okada with a passenger were to my left side and I had not even seen them . . . I brought them down totally . . . In the few seconds that it happened, the entire okada population nearby had swam on me . . . The accident victims groaning in pain, voices atop one another with suggestions of the nearest hospital to scurry the victims to.
I told everyone who cared to listen that I was new in town and had to let my host(ess) know I was in town . . . Her house was just 3 blocks away from the spot. 

Luckily, her auntie was also in the crowd and quickly recognised me . . . She had gone out I was told . . . The auntie followed us as I took the victims to the hospital where they were admitted.

My babe later showed up too, her auntie had informed her on the phone about what happened. 

The hunter had become the hunted . . . All the cash on me, intended for entertainment was spent on hospital bills.

Enjoy your weekend. 

Kikikikikikikikiiikiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii !