CARNAGE (part 3)

Posted in Stories with tags , , , , , , on July 20, 2012 by Yemi


Yep, I must apologize for not bringing you part 3 yesterday but my work is greatly dependent on internet and the wi-fi went down yesterday. I hope you are enjoying the series and if you are just joining us, pls read part 1 and part 2 . Any gbagaun you see is of the devil….. truth. ENJOY

As at the time Nwanne was 17, there was not a single thing about herself that Ada didn’t know. She had even told Ada about her inhibited adeptness in magic. At first Ada would withdraw from her and censure her for hiding such a big thing from her but she soon came to understand why she kept it a secret and she let the feeling of betrayal go. They made up and went back to being lovers.

Although it had been 4 years since the gory incidence, Nwanne’s plot for vengeance never evaded her mind, with each passing morning she looked forward to the day that she would finally have the head of the warlord; Jaja in her hands. She shared her plans with Ada and to her amazement, Ada accepted her part. Nwanne had grown to become a much better warrior than Ada, infact she was a tough competition for the men in that settlement, they revered her for her dexterity in using all form of weapons.

The duo embarked on their journey, each fully prepared for her part. Nwanne had infested Ada with her mania for spilt blood and as they went along, whatever seemed like a threat or was too innocent and timid to retaliate, they slit it open, it was a ritual they partook in everyday. It took them 6 months for them to gather enough information about Jaja’s camp and the men that lived there. Several of the people they had met for information, mostly men, warned them to not attempt whatever it was that they had planned whether vengeance or just a mere excursion. All the people who had ever tried such met their maker at the entrance of the camp besides they were women but they both blatantly denied ever having any plot of vengeance after all, it was ridiculous for 2 women to take down a whole camp of men.

They had paid through their teeth, to get the needed information. They had found out that the camp that once hosted 2000 of the world’s most fearsome and vile men was now occupied by roughly a thousand people, the remaining men had gone to settle in some of the villages that they had spared the women and children while they killed the men, the camp’s food supply had come from such villages. Some of them started a settlement of their own from the ruins of former villages. Ada and Nwanne would later find out that they had obliterated one of the small villages that contained Jaja’s men and the supposedly spared women and children. The men that lived in the camp were divided into 3 groups: swordsmen, archers and other artilleries. The heads of these 3 groups; Ikeme, Obiwon and Kwelu were Jaja’s right hand men; they were all second in command to the throne. They were the only ones allowed into the council of Jaja. Enimity existed between the three groups because Jaja was retired and any of the group heads could have been favored for the throne.

First off, they cut off the food supply to the camp, all they had to do was to set fire to a few of the remaining villages and they slaughtered the remaining people alive, although they had assistance from men that Ada had enchanted. She was an enchantress, she didn’t just have the body, she had the talk and flair. After that part was concluded, the next agenda was what Nwanne needed Ada for; to infiltrate their camp but how?

There was a settlement 5km away from the camp and it contained harlots and all sort of gypsies, the swords men mostly went there to relax. Ada was going to enter as a newbie harlot, she would then charm her way through the swordsmen and hopefully Ikeme would notice her and he did, he carried her back to his place and she teased him some more before she let him have his way with her.

She soon came to make permanent resident on the camp and at the same time she became the most sought after whore on the camp but she would secretly pledge her loyalty and her body to each of the 3 heads; Ikeme, Obiwon and kwelu, and they knew not that she cheated on them, they were all fools to this beauty. She would on occasion descend to the lower ranks, tease them and lay with them. All of this was done in secret but eventually and as expected, the secret will be out and all hell will break lose. Ada and Nwanne had anticipated the magnitude of the disaster in the camp but no one not even the duo knew how it was going to happen.

Ada had sneaked into Kwelu’s shelter as she did on every 4th and 5th night of the week. They both had a splendid night and by morning she lay at the center of the camp, cold, still, lifeless and brainless. Her brain though outside her body, it was still connected by a nerve to her insides. Her blood trailed from Kwellu’s shelter. No one could phantom what happened not even Kwellu who had woken up to another hard erection ready for full penetration. Immediately all secrets let loose. Her death sparked a huge frenzy. The 3 heads felt the betrayal deep within their groins, not the betrayal from Ada, the betrayal that they committed against each other. The tension between them was palpable and the slightest provocation would send the camp into a cauldron of unprecedented chaos. All the men had themselves heavily guarded, anticipating the worst.

Jaja heard of what happened, he wasn’t so surprised; he understood that men were pigs but he never thought his men to be foolish and since he never came out of his shelter, he never knew the apparent disaster that was soon to befall the camp.

Nwanne noticed an eerie difference in the camp that morning but she waited for Ada to rendezvous with her as she did every morning for the past 1 month and reconvey information back to her. That morning the duo planned to reconnoiter the camp. Ada didn’t show up at all and so Nwanne sneaked into the camp as a harlot. She found Ada’s body just at the front of the camp entrance, with a gaping hole in her head. Even in death, she still looked beautiful. Nwanne could not contain her emotions; rage, hopelessness, sympathy, heartbreak, betrayal and a host of other emotions painted her face in an ugly mural. Carnage got into her and with her bare hands and nothing more than a stone, she killed the 7 men that stood at the entrance; 4 of Kwellu’s men and 3 of Obiwon’s men. Her singular act of carnage started a war in the camp.

Nwanne returned back to the settlement with Ada’s body and told everyone what had happened. She gathered the best warriors in the settlement, 15 in all and on the way they gathered 15 extra people. As at the time they got there a fight had begun, it was as if their gods had caused confusion in the camp of the enemy. The group of 30 stormed the camp when the fight was almost quenched. Ada headed straight for Jaja’s shelter but first she had to wrestle his body guards, 2 of them, they stood at the entrance of the shelter. They seemed to be a competition taking into account their sturdy build. She eventually maneuvered them and slit their throats but not after she accidentally received a wound under her armpit. It made her feel weak but she kept on pressing.

Finally, she was one on one with Jaja. An event she had anticipated her entire teenage years. He still had it in him but his hand had grown weak, she would have had him in no time if not for the wound she suffered from, she felt light-headed but still pressed on. Their weapons flailed, they showed quick maneuverings, they mured each other, they talked about the evils they had done, he came to understand her bitterness and she came to understand his thirst for power. They both suffered from a carnage mania but one was for power the other for love.

She eventually had the last strike as she wittily locked his proficient arm in a tight embrace against her sides, her back was to him and his weapon in her front, she jabbed him with her elbows and he compromised his weapon, he let it slip out of his hands as he fell to his knees. In a quick turn she gave him an uppercut that made him a tad unconscious. She mounted him on a chair and waited for him to gain consciousness and then she tortured him, cutting his fingers, tongue and manhood. Before he passed out, she carried her sword to slice his throat but then it hit her, what better way to honor her beloved than for Jaja to die the same death. She picked up his weapon; the hammer from where it lay and dashed his fore head with so much strength that brain matter came spewing out the back.

Blood from her armpit trickled down even faster now and she had a hunch of uncertainty but still she pressed. She cut his head, went outside and stood on a tree stub, she raised his head high and stuttered in a loud voice

“V-V-VICTO………” the remaining syllable lost to life, she dropped; cold and lifeless.


This is the concluding end of the story, I hope you liked it. Make sure to air your views in the comment box, criticisms will be highly appreciated (don’t be shy) even if it’s just an inconsistency in the story.

Be back tomorrow for another exciting read by @weird_00 of the phantom pages. and please subscribe.


Carnage (part 2)

Posted in Stories with tags , , , , , , , on July 18, 2012 by Yemi


This is the continuation of yesterday’s story, if you didn’t read part 1, endeavor to read it here . Enjoy

With nowhere to go, she embarked on a journey of no return. On the first day, she travelled as far as her feet could carry her, finally coming to rest at twilight and she made room for herself under the pear tree that fed her that night. At the break of dawn, the loud chirping of bird and the half rays of sunlight that penetrated through the lustrous vegetation cover caused her to twist and turn until she finally bumped her head against the thick fibrous roots of the tree. She woke up to a hunger that tied the inside of her intestines in knots, she was in dire need of food and there was none. Alas it occurred to her that she could make feast of the pretty creatures above her that hummed and chirped, she drew out her father’s sword from under the earth (she covered it with sand before she slept) and tried to aim one of the juicy birds, the sword missed and the bird didn’t even flinch, she made a second attempt, this time round, the wood splintered and many of the birds flew away. She considered her decision unwise and decided to try her first magic spell unsupervised. She had tried the spells on small creatures before but she had failed to charm them.

Her mother had told her

“only the desperate cast the best spells and you are still a beginner”

and then she had asked her mother “are you desperate”

and her mother replied

“I’m a seasoned sorceress, I don’t need desperation, I only need to will it, if you can will it, you can charm it”

Those were the two things that she needed to catch her prey and with a bout of desperation and a heart that burnt with will, she had not even uttered as much as a word when a juicy fat bird descended into her palms. She was a natural, her sorceress skills were going to be incredible. And for the first time she was going to slice the throat of a creature with red blood, she made a fire and ate her prize. From that moment onwards Nwanne never looked back and her mad love for the red liquid gushing out of slit veins and arteries became unquenched.

After she had recuperated enough strength, she moved on from where she had rested and with each passing night, she embraced the wild outside. On the 4th day of Nwanne’s little adventure, she happened upon the first human she had seen since the horror in her village. It was a girl, much more beautiful than her and don’t doubt that Nwanne was very beautiful herself. The girl appeared to be a bit older with her front chest being much more pronounced and admirable, she also took into notice the considerable height difference. Nwanne guarded herself with the best shield her magic could produce, she laid her sword under a tree and waited until the girl at the stream was through having her bath and was about wearing her cloth. Out of nowhere Nwanne popped up on this beauty that looked like something out of the copulation of lesbian angels. Ada as Nwanne would finally get to know her as was startled but within a few moments the bond was instant, it was almost as if Ada had been charmed. Nwanne narrated her entire story to Ada, Ada felt recompense for her and told her that her own story was not so much different, she was also 13 when the evil warlord raided her village. She brought Nwanne under her roof and introduced her to the settlement she lived in. Apparently everybody in the settlement had a bone to pick with Jaja, they nurtured one another in the art of weaponry and fighting. Nwanne never revealed that she knew how to cast magic spells besides it was an inceptive gift, both her parents had it but none of her brothers did. With time Nwanne was fuelled with an intense passion to kill Jaja but this passion was rivaled by her love and lust for Ada.

Ada had been Nwanne’s pillar, she helped her understand herself and her urges, she taught her new things, she was a mother, friend and sister to Jaja, occasionally Ada kissed her on the lips and it sparked all sort of colors in her head. As the years passed she chased away every potential suitor that came to be satisfied in a corporal lewdness with her or Ada. Many times she lay in the nude expecting Ada to take note of her body and be entranced just the same way she was enthralled by Ada’s. Nwanne stayed awake long after Ada had slept just to lust after her. Ada, though fair had a full extension of black hair that matched the scenic view of moonless aurora nights, it draped down well below her neck and it never tangled. The moonlight that crept over every surface it could it could cast its gaze on heralded the ampleness and solidarity of her 2 breasts. Her beautiful facial features were not left out in the magnificent gamut of light as they glow, each feature boasting its own pride. As I said; she looked like something that came forth from the lesbian coitus of angels. As she took into detail every part of this beauty, Nwanne could not deal with the cravings and urges, she would then eventually please herself in the only way that could subdue the violent rush in her to turn this fair beauty around and have a lascivious night with her.

Eventually Ada would notice that which Nwanne had hoped she would all the time they had spent together. Nwanne was 16 at the time and very much a woman. Ada, 2 years older than Nwanne came home on a-cloudy-dark-about-to-rain-night. For reasons she could not properly elaborate on and neither did Nwanne understand the circumstances, Ada cried deeply and painfully. Maybe it was all a front. But Nwanne provided the needed comfort and attention, uttering words that filled one with a sincere passion for something ungodly. Soon Ada would kiss Nwanne on the lips and then recoil her head to apologize for the act but Nwanne was quick to return the favor in a much more deeper, sensual and passionate act. Neither Ada nor Nwanne would break the kiss, Nwanne then took the bold step to slide her hands through the hems of Ada’s garment and caress the undulating parts of Ada’s figure. Ada didn’t seem to mind and she let whatever it may that was to happen that night happen. They both found themselves in a unity and oneness that explains and defines the in-depth nature and boundaries of love, each delivering an inexplicable ecstasy to the other. They went on for hours with moans of willful joy and an inextinguishable energy. They rocked each other’s world. That night; they were consummated in their love.


Come back tomorrow for another exciting story.


Posted in Stories with tags , , on July 17, 2012 by Yemi


The cold air caressed Nwanne’s bodacious bosom as she flailed her weaponry of destruction forged from the bones of men and combined with a special alloy for increased strength and on the edge shattering. She hit whatever came up in her front, men, women, children and animals alike. She had an avidness for carnage since the demise of her family at the  hands of the warlord; Jaja. She felt pleasure and ecstasy but it could not be said where she derived it from; whether it was from the cold air, grazing her fair slender body and filling her orifices (she never wore much) or maybe it was from the blood she now spilt without recompense and at the end of her rampage she would drain the lifeless bodies of their blood and empty it into a bath. She would then wash up in the blood and please herself alongside. Once upon a time, this would have never been or even have been heard of; that there is a female psychotic killer with a thirst for carnage on the loose.

Nwanne owes her plight to Jaja. He has long retired from his despicable ways but he never thought that many would come after him because he made sure to cease the breath of every creature capable of vengeance whenever he went on his own rampage. Some people seek revenge but they possess not the repertoire of a warrior, so they place bounties as huge as a sack full of gold on the warlord’s head. Nwanne was one of those few that had carefully plotted their revenge but as it’s almost impossible to kill a warlord of such magnanimous reputation that precedes that of the gods, many that tried failed woefully. Her plan was simple but difficult, she was going to bring disloyalty to his apparatchiks which will in turn cause an unprecedented amok with so much magnitude that it will be strong enough to break up his cabal but to do that she would have to infiltrate the cult that contained a cesspool of the worst men alive, this was no easy task and the time frame was not one she was willing to be patient with. Nwanne’s deluded self could hardly quench the thirst for blood, she resolved into taking actions rather than making plans, long-term plans. She lacked patience so she slit the throat of anything that contained red blood to ease herself out of the frustration. She had a deep penchant to kill, a mad mania for spilt blood.

On a cold night with no cloud cover, the full moon shone like it were the sun, lighting the dark huts of each family, creating funny shadows of people, coloring the landscape in its majestic beauty. The people of Umo were a day away from their full moon festival, they believed the full moon to be a bode of their peace. They were once a perturbed village, always ready to wage war against those who dared to trespass or make them feel the least bit of threat. Their men and sorcerers had become slack, and lost their abilities. Tomorrow was going to be the fifth year since anybody had a cause to cast a spell or wield a sword. They lived in peace and it was going to be that way. The village children gathered round the camp fire and listened to their elders tell tales, some played games on the ground nearby, the elderly men of the village ate kola under the trees, played drafts and talked about a time when the peace they now enjoyed could never have been dreamt. Unknown to them danger was imminent. The nubile girls in the village pranced around the environs making gossip with their friends while eagerly waiting and expecting a man that is courageous enough to walk up and snatch them from the clique of wanton gossip.

Nwanne’s 3 elder brothers had stayed home with their parents. Her mother was formerly a sorceress and her father was one of the village’s best warriors. Her parents had thought their children their art and the children were very much copacetic with black magic and swordsmanship. They had never once had an opportunity to practice what they learnt but that night they fought to their deaths. The intruders came in when sleep had befallen the village, they torched the huts and slaughtered the few defenseless people who remained outside. It wasn’t long before the remaining villagers became aware of the heinous acts taking place. Those who could fought and those who couldn’t still fought and tagging along in that class of those who couldn’t were children. Nwanne was 13 at that time but her mother insisted that she shouldn’t come out to fight but her persistence was annoying so her mother cast her into the beautiful realms of sleep and covered her with a supernatural shield that protected Nwanne from fire and the eyes of the enemy. The next morning Nwanne woke up to find the village in ruins, she was the only survivor. After hours of a Sisyphean search she found the head of her father on a stake a few 100 meters outside the village, she cried out all the fluid in her before taking her father’s sword that had been dutifully laid before his head. She rummaged the village for anything that could be of good use to her before she left there for good. She cursed the gods her village worshipped and although the intruders had not burnt down the village’s shrine, she personally torched it herself.

To be continued……………..

Come back tomorrow for another exciting post, don’t forget to subscribe.

Frustration with a gleam of joy.

Posted in Stories on July 16, 2012 by Yemi

DAY 1.


It’s truely been a long while since I opened my blog, although there is no dust here. I wonder why bloggers will be like there’s a load of dust on their blog when they haven’t blogged in a while (THEIR PALAVER, I guess).

Let me inform you that i would be starting A-POST-A-DAY-AS-LONG-AS-I-HAVE-INTERNET-CHALLENGE. Hopefully it should be for 30 days, so let me enjoin you to subscribe and visit this blog everyday, hopefully all the days will be …….. Enjoy today’s post, i wrote it in frustration.

You think you are normal but you are not. You throw tantrums all over the place, you wreck havoc and cause chaos. Yes, we are smiling now because you are cute but then you make our hearts sad with the way you behave. It’s appalling to see one of your favorite people in the world continually botch and it is even worse when you can do hardly anything to right the wrong. I am not a saint so I won’t throw stones at you, besides I was once in your size but then time passes, grace makes you see the next day, food makes you bigger, mistakes and lessons make you smarter but I am definitely not meant to spare the rod on that troublesome ass of yours but I find myself to feeble to inflict real tears of pain on you. I won’t lie tho’ when you cry because you are hurting after falling and bruising your knees from one of your very dangerous plays that I cannot overemphasize the many times I have told you to stop, a sort of mischievous smile crosses the face of my heart, a compensation for the troubles you put me through each day.

It seems like the food you eat is too much, so much that you expend the extra energy making my life miserable throughout the day, atimes I hesitate feeding you in the morning, maybe if you were starved throughout the day you would sit down in one place and be calm, you will grow a bit of sense and not gyrate round the whole living room while shouting and raking everything in your path. For once maybe you would act like me and be gentle. Peace is all I crave, peace begat more love, I want to love rather than loathe.

You continually sap my energy each day, you make me wonder what sort of creature will make me regret once being in your size, you make me rethink the past and apologize to my caretakers for the things I did that really got them pissed. I wonder if I were just like you or you are just a rare case of mental retardation with your near to deluded facial contortions and ever deafened ears that can’t tell the difference between ‘go and come’ but it sure can listen to those brightly colored and far from human freak shows on tv. I am not angry at you in any respect, as I stated earlier you are one of my favorite people in this world. I will surely take a bullet for you, and I don’t expect you to return the favor back atleast not in your size.

You make me laugh and wonder so much that my head hurts from the excitement you give me. Your cheerful plays and innocent lies bemuse me, your carefree imitations and frequent stuttering cracks me up, your frivolity and altricial nature makes me envious, envious because my own prime in being inconsequentially thoughtless is past and I didn’t get to exploit it. Just as sometimes I don’t want to grow up because I am afraid of the responsibilities, worries, challenges, sacrifices and the other balderdash the future may bring that makes one lose his purity and the firmness and the beauty of his skin to time, I wish you wouldn’t grow up either because then you would realize that there is a whole lot more to life than just to play without pray, you would become tainted and that innocent look in your eyes will ever more be covered in red guilt.

You will see beautiful images and have a perverted perception, you will hear straight sentences but have a lewd understanding of what was spoken, you will be judged, loved, liked and loathed. You will be heartbroken and cry but this time  round your crying would cause you to change and be resolute. But just chill and relax, let time and all of its complexities continually bump you in the head, that’s how I learnt, that’s how my elders learnt, that’s how breathing creatures learn and grow stronger. I shouldn’t be telling you all these. No pressures.

Remember you are just a child, it doesn’t make you mentally impaired, it only makes me envious.


Posted in listen with tags , , , on February 24, 2012 by Yemi

I was at the agege market yesterday with my mum, she went to purchase some items. That was not going to be my first time going there but each time I go I never want to go back there again….. I am sure right now you will be asking why? But in the course of this post, you would understand better.

I have come to love seeing beautiful things around me, whether artificial or natural, I don’t care what you do to attain such beauty all I know is that I want to see beautiful things and beautiful people around me. I don’t come from a home like that of the Dangote’s or the Adenuga’s, both my parents are retired but they ensure they give me all the necessary things I need to survive and they still find room to add luxury. I am so grateful to God for counting me as part of the privileged few that don’t roam the streets looking for their next meal or looking for a place to rest their heads, I am not part of those that their parents find it hard to pay their school fees. I am privileged to look around my parent’s house and see beauty and so it saddens my heart when I get into another man’s quarters and he cannot afford to cloth his children and put food on the table or send his child to school or even give his children proper health care. It’s just sad.

The next question is what have I done to help? Nothing. Is it the meager amount of money that I drop from time to time in the donation boxes of charity organizations that will brighten their future? Certainly not. The donations are barely enough to take care of the motherless and the crippled talk less of the able that strive daily to make their poor ends meet. Well at my age and level I can’t really do much as I am still a bit dependent on someone else’s wealth but it does not justify my silence or maybe it does. The least I think I can do is to make a resolution to do whatever it is I can do in my power to assist those who cannot fend for themselves. The government might have failed but will humanity then fail at assisting its own kind.

I remember a particular day when I was coming back from the airport, I got stuck in traffic and I saw this woman with her child barely up to a year old tied on her back.. The child looked lifeless but I couldn’t say much from afar. What amazed me was that she was filling up a very dirty keg with water she was fetching from a muddy stagnant puddle of rain water. I wanted to think otherwise until I saw her gulp the water down. The sight was infuriating and it brought out all sort of irk in me but still I did nothing to alleviate the woman’s condition. Maybe I didn’t care enough or it was just not my duty. So what right did I have to be angry, what business did my emotions have with feeling pity when it was not going to make me a better person but rather a weak person.

Watching videos in school about kids suffering and needing help used to stir me to soberness and I noticed the videos got everybody in the auditorium saying “aww” and then it will get them looking for the least change in their pocket, let’s say anything less than #50. I am not speaking for myself here, I like to think I am a bit more considerate. The minute they step out of the auditorium they completely forget what it was that made their hearts feel a slight tremor. We are only human and I agree.

The pictures and videos of these less privileged individuals became increasingly more and I resolved that if I didn’t have any plan to save them from their predicament, I can as well just shut my heart and so I did but one thing that still managed to break the seal I had now placed on my heart was that despite the situation these individuals were facing, they still managed to adorn their faces with a bright smile and that is one reason I love this nation. We encourage each other to appreciate what we have got without even knowing. We are a happy people.

From all my experience, although short, I have come to understand that our emotions are meant for something greater than pity. They are meant for positive change. We were not created emotional beings so that we could be weak. Heck no, we have these emotions to make us stronger, to tie the bond of unity where someone else has broken the link. Our emotions are meant for others, they are meant to make us human and being human does not entail weakness, it entails resilience in the face of weakness. Our emotions are meant for greater things. Cast away the fear and anxiety, the belittlement, the ego and act for positive change.


Posted in listen with tags , on February 23, 2012 by Yemi


*Coughs* First of, I want to make it clear that yesterday’s post was totally fictional, none of that BS happened. I am glad you enjoyed it but please ooh, nobody should fall my hand by saying that shit really happened, it was just for your amusement.

Today the very amazing Kemi will be gracing my blog with her awesome ability. I once asked her to marry me (I wasn’t so sure if I meant it or not) and without thinking twice, she bluntly said ‘No.’ Long story short; She killed my ego. I should not be sharing stories like this with y’all… don’t know what is wrong with yours truly.

May I announce that this challenge will end most likely tomorrow, my internet will expire soon and I can’t be posting from my phone plus I have not had a good night rest in days and it’s beginning to have its toll on me.

Anyway, I leave you with my…… ehm, how do they introduce guest writers again…. Wo sha read and Enjoy.

Kemi Rambles.

I was jejely being a weist and playing temple run on my own when Yemi Johnson (I’m used to calling him. Yemi Johnson from high school) sent me a text saying he wants a post from me; I’m like what is wrong with this child disturbing my peace ehn? To tell you the truth, I’m suffering from a serious case of writer’s block. Even though Larry Sushey says it does not exist, I guess I’m a mutant.

I just finished writing my first professional examination and I don’t have any brain juice left. That shit sucked the creativity out of me.

I asked Yemi for a muse. Yemi; useless as always, could not help my situation.

I racked my brain. Nothing.

Yemi finally asked me to write about Grey’s Anatomy or just ramble.. So I ramble..

Lol. Cool story.

So I got stuck while trying to ramble and I did not want to bore you guys with my med school stories so I decided to tread the deep path since I have lost my funny bone.


I was just thinking about how amazing it was that I had become really good friends with this particular girl even though I had misjudged her.

The first time I saw her, she was wearing this uber short dress and I tagged her ‘slutty’. I didn’t even get to know her.

I know you have heard it time and time again “don’t judge a book by its cover” the saying cannot be overemphasized.

So back to this my friend. I tagged her “annoying” because she always had this air of happiness around her and I’m like “what is making this one happy sef?”

Without saying even a word to her, I disliked her and tagged her “bitch” yet again when I heard certain things about her and things she had done in the past.

Now, I feel the need to apologize to her because she was wrongly judged and who am I to judge anyone when I’m not even near perfect? Nobody is perfect and everybody makes mistakes.

It turns out that this my friend is just a free-spirited somebody that has a different lease in life. She really doesn’t care about what people say and is blessed with a kind heart.

Different people go through different things and the things they go through may affect their actions, behaviors and how they come off.

Some people have problems at home.

Some people may be traumatized for one reason or the other.

It may be a medical condition of some sort.

That nympho may have been abused sexually.

That alcoholic may be drinking away his sorrow; trying to forget his troubles.

The crack head too.

The bully/bitch may have ego/self esteem issues.

That was me trying to be deep.

Thanks for reading and #GetToKnow… Don’t be fooled by a plastic smile.










I am sure as the ocean line that this post changed y’all for the better and just so you know, I am not the friend she is talking about. You can read her art here.



Posted in Stories with tags , , , on February 22, 2012 by Yemi


First of all, I want to apologize for not being consistent with this challenge, I gave a crappy post on Saturday that was not properly edited, it still reeks of gbagauns despite the length. I refused to blog on Sunday because man must rest and go to church. Go to church I didn’t, and yesterday I refused to release a post because I was just too damn lazy plus the light bulb did not appear on top of my head and even till now the light bulb ain’t there and I am typing at a very ungodly hour. They say nothing good happens after 2am. I just hope this post proves that statement wrong

Also let me warn that this post might be gbagaun prone and it may distract you from the main idea of the post. Bear with me, I am only human, a human who has refused to sleep. I think that should do for the disclaimer.

Finally I want to take time to address my haters. Those that are constantly high on haterade, constantly sending me pings and dm’s on how crappy my posts are. Now singing turn my swag on, Keri Hilson version

*If you be hating just be mad at yourself,

I bet you think this post is about you,

don’t you, yeah, but it ain’t about you………………………

if you ain’t getting money then you got nothing for me

’cause I will be making paper like you wouldn’t believe

and I will be skinning haters like you wouldn’t believe

so what’s up? *

ok, that one sef don do. Most of my haters are my hommies tho. They definitely love me, what’s not to love.

And for those who doubt my talent, I brought you this,

This will go down as one of my favorite tweets.

Ok, to today’s post. I am sure with all the preamble from above, you will be expecting something awesome. I will be sorry to disappoint you at the end, it’s 2 am in the morning and I am still awake. The sand man is trying his best to put me to sleep………….. oh, my friend just told me some of you guys think I am talking about Sandman from the marvel comic. Nah, I am talking about that small dude that puts the whole world to sleep, he is somewhat like a tooth fairy…. If you still don’t know who I am talking about then I am sorry for your childhood. That’s enough babble. Now for today’s post. Hmmmmm. Where to start from.

Let me warn that the contents of this post may (emphasis on may) contain real scenes from my true life experience nevertheless the story is purely fictional and highly exaggerated. I will be the narrator. The post you about to read is meant for your amusement, so the truth has been greatly altered. Just so you know, this is the second time I will be writing such. ENJOY.

I slotted in my atm card into the atm for the third time that morning. The five digit number well above the needed amount stared at me and my feelings were elevated. I mentally tried to calculate the last time I had a black berry phone in my hand and how the opportunity got snatched away from me along with my itouch by a hoodlum wielding nothing more than a knife. Embarrassing right! It was painful and the ridicule was even worse (you can read up on the story here. I have refused to edit the story despite the numerous errors. It was the incident that propelled me to start blogging.)

I smiled to the ceiling wondering who my first contact would be, how I would so much pimp out my black berry, I could go on forever with the thoughts but I believe you get the drift. I brought out the Nokia torch-light phone in my pocket and made my last call with it

“mummy, I am going to buy a new phone”

“yemi don’t go alone ooh, you are still a kid.” I got annoyed and hung up.

I formed a mental image of all the black berry phones in my head, even the Porsche one, but it drove away as fast as it drove in. My options were down to a bold 2, bold 4 and  a torch. Long story short , I got a cab down to the place, entered slot and bought a bold 4. I still don’t know why I didn’t go to the slot at ikeja mall. The prices are the same, I think. Now for the real story.

Feeling all wiser than the last time I was here, I decided to enter the very gangster side of computer village just to get a phone jacket that I could have bought in slot. I put the newly bought phone in a black water proof…. Hehehe, I just like saying water proof. I took my time, gently striding and contemplating if my decision was sensible. Of course it was sensible especially to a foolhardy like me. All courage but no good sense.  I approached a shop that had more weapons in it than gadgets, more well-built men around it than sales personnel and they all seemed to have the same smell and their eye color was no different. I braced myself up, muttering I am smarter than before and I am no one’s maga, then I entered the shop. I spoke all the dialects I could, from English to Yoruba to pidgin. I asked to see his phone jackets and I was required to bring out the phone to see the one that best fits. He asked me new phone and I said yes. He volunteered to help me pimp out my phone and he told me in a very unclear way that each file he was going to add to my phone costs #200. I initially refused but then I thought the whole stuff was just #200. I gave him the go ahead and he did a few things on his laptop and my phone.

He gave me an app that was meant to prevent people from stealing the phone. Basically it was nothing more than an app for locking a phone and it had an alarm. That was all. I handed him a #200 bill and he was like what is this. I was amazed by his response. He said my fee was #10,000. I was startled, how is that possible, he then replied

“I said #200 per file and there are 50 files under this app.” I began to speak in Yoruba again

“Iru rubbish wo ni ele bayii, mo ro pe #200 ni e so. Oya, yoo kini yii lati fone mii.” (what sort of rubbish, delete it from my phone.)

“Ko le se yo, o gbodo san owo yen.” (it cannot be removed, you have to pay the money.)

We debated the issue some more and I began to panic, he offered to give me a storm 2 for the phone as I did not have the money to pay. After all no be ping the both of them they ping. I was furious and began to utter curses on him in pidgin, just then 2 huge shadows were casted by my side and the sun light was blurted out. One of the guys asked

“Lanre, se ko si any wahala.” (Lanre is there any problem) The look in my eyes was begging Lanre to dismiss them. I was not ready to get beaten.

“Omo yii ni.” (it is this child) I stopped him before he could say more.

“Baba, ni bi storm 2 yen wa. E ma je ka waste anymore time.” (where is the storm 2, don’t let us waste anymore time.)

He brought out a dusty looking thing from under the table and gave me, I could not care if the phone was working, all I knew was that I wanted out. He was nice enough to throw in a phone jacket with the phone. I think I said thank you. I hurried back home to see if the phone was working and it worked. I have refused to tell anyone the truth of what went down till now. It’s just plain stupid to be maga’d twice. It feels so not good to have confessed this. END.

Oh and my first ping, forget about it, there are more important things to worry about like Boko Haram, GEJ, girls getting pregnant and me going back to school.

If you believe this, please shoot yourself. This post is totally fictional but you are at liberty to believe whatever makes you sleep at night but still shoot yourself if you believe this.



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