Monday, November 23, 2015

I am sorry. Please, forgive me

Guys, I am extremely sorry about the past two weeks. Posting about Mama peace and Mrs Brown back to back was a pure coincidence. I didn't even realise until it was too late.

You see, what happened was that I knew I wasn't going to be around, and had scheduled some blog posts for the upcoming weeks. I had writers' block, so I took some articles from my comedy book, For Laff's Sake, and scheduled them. So when I got new inspiration, I started moving articles around, and before I knew that those two articles ended up side by side, it was too late. So please, forgive me. I am sorry.


I promise I am still normal, and don't have weird neighbours. Besides, if you haven't read For Laff's Sake, what are you waiting for? Order your own copy on Amazon now. There are way more funny stories in that book, but I can't post them here because they are too long. Besides, there would be no need for you to purchase again if I do that. Oya, click here to purchase.

So I haven't been around o. I was touring the world, lol.

I went on a trip that sent my account straight to red, but at least, I enjoyed myself. I did a whole lot of things on vacation. I think I was forced to have fun this time because I didn't have the comfort of staying with family in two of the states I went, so I was forced to actually go out without having to depend on anyone. If you know me, you know I actually don't like going out of the house.

Trust me when I say I went to a whole lot of places, but the major highlights were Hollywood and Beverly Hills in California, bowling with my cousin in Dave and Busters in Baltimore, then watching the Veterans Day parade in New York City, and the height of it all for me was watching Phantom of the Opera on Broadway. At this point, I was almost crying at the money I had to spend, but my love for Phantom of the Opera was just too much for me to resist.

So here's the thing, I am supposed to give you guys highlights, right? Since the trip was overpacked, the most sensible thing to do is to break it down into series, like my Seven days in Brazil series. But I don't know if I want to be blogging about vacation for one month, since I blog just once a week. The alternative would be to have it in one single looooong post.

Anyway, let me know what you guys think. I will do what the majority says.

But in the meantime, I neeeeeeeeeeddddddddd Moneyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!

Monday, November 16, 2015

Mrs Brown’s Ministry

Mrs Brown owned a very big house, which she inherited from her husband, after he died some years back. She believed that she and her husband had the very best marriage, and she decided to keep that memory alive by not remarrying, but instead ‘helping’ young couples have such enviable marriage, beginning with the ones ‘lucky’ enough to rent a flat in her house.

The problem was that the young couples did not want Mrs Brown’s ‘help’, as they felt she was just a nosy old landlady whose interference had a way of turning things from bad to worse. However, Mrs Brown would hear none of this. She always knew how to use her position as landlady to get into the houses of everyone whose marriage she wanted to ‘help’.

She never rented her flats to single people or older couples. She only rented to young couples that had marriages ranging from one day old to fifteen years old. She believed helping them was her divine calling. And since all her kids were grown, married, and out of the country, she had all the time to devote to this ‘ministry’ of hers.

Believe it or not, one of the terms in her customised rent contract is that polygamy is not allowed in her house, she must not find out about the presence of any third party on the matrimonial bed. Also, once you separate from your spouse, you will have to leave the house once your current rent expires.

These rules were appalling to people that intended to rent, but they still rented anyway because they were desperate for accommodation, and secondly, most of them were young couples who never actually intended to separate from their spouses, so it was all well and good for them.

She even always has extra keys to the flats of new tenants, and sneaks in to their house in their absence, until they eventually find her out, and change their locks. One tenant even told his neighbours that she had walked in on him, and found him naked, before he realised she had an extra key.

Talks of ‘“Who is that woman by your side?” “She is my sister ma.”, “Who is that man I see you hugging?”, “He is my uncle ma.”, “If he is your uncle, should you hug him? Why can’t you go on your knees to greet him?”’ were the norm in that compound.

As such, even though Mrs Brown had a very nice building, with spacious flats, tenants never lasted long in her house.

One particular tenant that could not wait to leave that house was Niyi, who had tried in vain to stand Mrs Brown’s ministry, but was unsuccessful. His marriage was two years old, and he was very handsome and tall. He also had a very friendly disposition towards everyone he met.

His friendliness and beauty was a thing of concern to Mrs Brown, as she considered this to be a sign of a womanising man, and a womanising man would eventually make his wife insecure and give her heartache, which would eventually lead to an unhappy marriage. And an unhappy marriage in Mrs Brown’s house would be a failure, and serve as a big blow to her ‘ministry’. Because of this, she decided that she would keep a special eye on Niyi.

Niyi was already getting tired of her nosy interrogations and comments, and was always at the edge of blowing off his top, but his wife always tried to calm him down.

One day, he was talking to his sister about a family matter in his car. Seeing Mrs Brown walking towards him from a distance, he knew a problem was brewing around the corner. Immediately, he turned to face his sister directly, pretending not to notice her.

When she finally got to him, she started

Mrs Brown: Niyi

Niyi: (Muttering under his breath) Yes, Jezebel? (Turning around) Oh, I'm sorry, ma. You sounded like someone else I knew.

Mrs Brown: Who is this you are talking to, does your wife know you are downstairs in your car with a strange woman?

Niyi: Yes ma, she knows. This is not a strange woman, she is my sister.

Mrs Brown: How do I know you are telling the truth?

Niyi: If only you had changed the lens of your glasses, like I recommended, you would have seen the resemblance between us.

Mrs Brown: You don’t have to be so rude with your remarks. I am only trying to help you, and watch out for your wife.

Niyi: Thank you ma, we appreciate that.

On another occasion, Niyi was on leave from work, and his female cousin had come to visit him at home. Immediately she got into the apartment, Mrs Brown got on the prowl. She went to the front of his apartment, and strained her ears so she could decipher whatever it is that might be going on in his house.

After about one hour, she couldn’t stand the mystery anymore, so she just knocked. Niyi knew it was her, so he refused to open the door. He told her to go away, that he was sleeping.

Mrs Brown: I am here with the carpenter. Remember you made a request that your kitchen cabinet be fixed.

Niyi: That is very strange. I made that request 18 months ago when I just moved in, and nothing has been done about it since then. I wonder how come you remember, even when I have fixed it and forgotten about it.

Mrs Brown: Well, I decided to be a darling, and do something about it.

He finally opened the door, and before he knew it, Mrs Brown pushed it wide open with a power he never imagined she had in her, and went straight into the living room.

Niyi: I thought you said you brought the carpenter. Where is he?

Mrs Brown: (Looking at the woman in the living room) Seeing what I see here, the absence of the carpenter is hardly important now.

Niyi: And what are you seeing here?

Mrs Brown: Who is this in your living room?

Niyi: (Hardly believing his ears, irritated, but trying to be polite) She is my cousin ma.

Mrs Brown: (Eyeing Niyi and the lady) Are you sure, are you telling me that there is nothing going on between you two?

Niyi: Absolutely ma. There is nothing going on between us.

Looking suspiciously, Mrs Brown hissed and walked out

Later that afternoon, Niyi took his thrash out, and saw his cousin off to the car park.

On his way back to his apartment, he saw Mrs Brown doing something he had never imagined or thought possible. It was a sight of Mrs Brown going through his thrash.

Niyi: Excuse me ma, what is going on here?

Mrs Brown: Ooh, not to worry. You claim she is your cousin. I will prove to you that she is not, when I find the condoms you used for protection!!!

Monday, November 9, 2015

I won't tell you...

Mama Peace lost her palm wine-tapping husband when he fell down from the palm tree three years ago. After then, she decided that she would resign from her job as a full-time housewife, and take an employment as a full-time rumour monger. She has acquired several contours and scars on her body, to exhibit as medals she has received from doing this serious job of hers.

I am not going to tell you of the time she told people that she saw Yetunde kissing Tope’s husband, when Yetunde claimed to only be checking the colour of the wax coming out of his ears, or when she told us at the backyard that she saw Alpha snogging Lateefat. We asked Alpha about this, but he said he was only giving Lateefat mouth to mouth resuscitation, as she was about to faint, because of the fumes coming out of Mama Peace’s generator.

I won’t even mention the time she said Omon was stealing fish from Titilayo’s pot of soup, when Omon said he was only helping Titilayo remove the cockroach that flew into the soup. No, I won’t mention these tales.

I won’t mention the fact that we were not surprised when we heard that fifteen year old Susan was pregnant, because Mama Peace had already told people on the next street that she caught Tekena and Susan doing the deed, and when she confronted Tekena about why he should do such to a very young girl, he said she had come to seduce him when he was praying, and he had removed his belt, so he could use it to bind the adulterous demon inside of her. When he removed his belt, his trousers fell down, and that was the last thing he remembered.

I will keep mum about how she told some people in her family that she caught her brother-in-law staring at the backside of his step-daughter, and they were eyeing each other, but he claimed he was only looking at the unusual colour of the butterfly at the hem of her dress.

What the f?
What of the time she told the whole street that ever since the hummer-driving Mr Abimbola died, Mr Festus, who was Mr Abimbola’s best friend, has been leaving Mrs Abimbola’s house by 12 midnight, whenever her twins were away in the university, and Mrs Abimbola says he’s just coming by to see whether there are no cracks in the wall of the house, because he was the supervising engineer when the house was being built. No, I won’t tell you that story too.

I refuse to talk about when she raised an alarm after catching Mr Edoho stealing all the cloths off the cloth line at the back of the compound, and we all ran out, only for Mr Edoho to tell us that he had a vision that the house was going to burn that day, and he was helping us save our clothes in advance.

In fact, at this moment, my lips are sealed because I won’t mention when she told the Christian community in the estate that she caught Brother Amos putting Egg and Pap sacrifice at the T-Junction, and Brother Amos said he was only killing a white squirrel there, the one that appeared in his room while praying in the midnight, which he relentlessly chased, and eventually killed when he got to the T-Junction.

No, I won’t tell you all these tales. What I would only tell you is that mama Peace has a full-time job, which has caused her to have loads of enemies and no genuine friends, and this job sure gets her into troubles with a lot of people.

Ehhmm, one more thing… I won’t also tell you that my daughter’s name is Peace, and my husband was a palm wine tapper who died three years ago.

Monday, November 2, 2015

If I were an anonymous blogger...

The fact that I am not an anonymous blogger has restricted me in some ways, in terms of blog content. There are some things I definitely cannot put up here. But that's where creativity comes in. When you are restricted, cannot affoed to use offensive language, yet you still own your space when it comes to good content.

As you might know, I have always said on the blog that I had known that one could blog anonymously, before I started blogging, I would have been an anonymous blogger. I have this feeling that my life is way fuller than I portray it to be, and this blog would have been far more interesting.

So I was thinking. If I were actually an anonymous blogger, what would have been different?

I would have blogged more about the Nigerian kind of religion Christianity, and talked a lot about hypocrisy. God knows I have my own work cut out for me in this Kingdom-building business, and the way I remain sane is by focusing on the specific work cut out for me.

I would have blogged more about my mum. I think she's such a case, and I think writing about our conversation will make for great comedy. No, she's not funny, she's just... well, a case.

I would have blogged more about my relationship life. In fact, there's a particular one which we'd have gone on the journey together on the blog. I used to be more open about relationships and all, but now, I am the most private person in existence, lol.

I would have liked to say that I would have blogged more about my past. Fortunately, I am one of those people who don't have any adventure or secrets or whatever in their past. For example, I spent six years in university without attending a club for once. I am not from a dysfunctional family, I didn't jump from place to place, men to men, relationship to relationships, and I don't believe in premarital sex. No, I don't have a perfect past, I just don't have a spicy past. So blogging about my past would make this space a really boring one, and I would have sent a lot of people into slumber. So let's move on.

I would have blogged more about my weaknesses. I know I currently blog about my imperfections, but I would have delved more into things I feel I could be better at. I would have said some things without the fear of anyone using it against me in future.

I would have blogged about other bloggers, lol. Something tells me I'd have been a troublemaker, rather than the peacemaker I normally am, lol. I am just joking o. There's this saying that short ladies have sharp tongue, and insult people easily, as a defence for their short stature. I think this cliche somehow passed me by when God was creating me. I can't insult to save my life. Maybe that's why God gave me a fast speech, assertive voice, and a skill in the art of spoken word to compensate me for my lack of height and lack of insultive prowess.

My stance has always been 'Being an anonymous blogger doesn't give you the freedom to just talk anyhow even though you have a lot of freedom. You can read more about my opinion on this when I chose to burst some bloggers' bubbles here. Anonymity only gives a degree of freedom, and not infinite, so let's still be careful'

I think I would stop for now, and ask you. Are you non-anonymous blogger? If you were an anonymous blogger, what would you blog about, which you are not currently blogging about? Let us know in the comment section.Id

Monday, October 26, 2015

My Husband's name is... (Sisterhood of the World Bloggers)

Wow, I can’t remember when last I did a tag. I normally just dodge or hide. But Lola Oseni specifically called me out on this one, so I guess I have nowhere to run to. She nominated me for the Sisterhood of the World Bloggers. And I am really honoured to be nominated. You can check out her blog here

Here are the rules
Thank the blogger who nominated you, linking back to their site;
Put the award logo on your blog;
Answer the ten questions sent to you;
Nominate five blogs;
Make up ten new questions for your nominees to answer.

Now, let’s see if I will rebel against some of these rules.

Done the first and second. Now to Lola’s ten questions

1. What is your biggest pet peeve?
I have so many, but I think it is indiscipline of any form. I just can’t stand undisciplined and unruly behaviour. Why jump queues or drive ‘smart’? Are the other people fools? Why go to an event or church, and not conduct yourself well? If the policy says don’t chew gum in the sanctuary, does it kill you as a teenager not to chew gum? Why step on the head of others to get ahead? As a civil servant, why keep people’s lives on hold just because they refused to bribe you?

2. What does your last text message say?
“SellerHQ by Konga: You have a new order: Order No:………”
But seriously, do people still send SMS these days? Only businesses do that.

3. Can you taste the difference between Pepsi and coke? Which do you prefer?
None. I don’t take soda, and try to avoid processed sugar as much as possible. Flat stomach is non-negotiable for me. Water is the way.

4. Make a confession about anything.
20 minutes later, I am still thinking of an answer to this question. I’m sorry but I have no confession to make, lol.

5. Name one item on your bucket list
My bucket.

6. If you were another person would you make friends with yourself?
I don’t think so, lol. I’m so different from everyone that it is mind-boggling. It is like the whole world goes south, and I just face north. And I can’t even be bothered, lol.

7. What is your secret weapon to lure the oppoiste sex, boyfriend, husband, potential?
If I reveal it, then it won’t be secret again, lol.

8. What do you want to know about the future?
Simple! My husband’s first name. It will reduce the suspence and work by 99.999%. Lol. The toasting will go like…

Toaster: Atilola, I want to marry you. I think you are the woman of my dreams.

Me: Is your name Iyanuoluwalandurode

Toaster: No.

Me: Sorry, you are not my husband because my husband's name is...

Case closed. No time wasting, or unnecessary prayer of “God, if this guy your will for me…”

9. What would you change about your experience in secondary school?
Kai. This one is hard o. Okay. I remember. I won’t have allowed a wicked senior force me into confessing to a theft I didn’t commit. You can read the whole story here.

10. Scary movies or happy endings?
Happy endings. The real world is already filled with a lot of scary things, and we need happy ending movies for some escape.

I nominate
Mobolaji Amusu
Berry Dakara
Naija Single Girl

So for my questions to you, I want to believe my questions are very interesting, lol.
1. What is your biggest pet peeve?
2. Team Whatsapp or Team BBM?
3. Eat healthy, and watch what goes into your body? OR Life is too short, enjoy all the food while you can? Which of these two describes you best?
4. Make a confession about anything.
5. Do you think ladies with natural hair take the “team natural” thing too far?
6. Can you marry a man exactly like your father?
7. What is your opinion about premarital sex?
8. What supernatural power do you wish you had?
9. Tell us something you wish you hadn’t done in the past
10. Books or Movies?

Monday, October 19, 2015

My first online shopping experience in Nigeria

For the first time in history, I shopped online in Nigeria. On Friday, I decided to carry out a search on google for an affordable dual sim phone I need to use next weekend while I’m away. The search took me to Jumia’s website. So I thought, rather than have my assistant going to computer village next week to haggle over a suitable phone for me, which was the initial plan, I should as well try buying it here.

You see, I am not new to online shopping at all, seeing that I don’t really like physical shopping, and I am not much of a buyer. I usually get a lot of my stuff from and .uk, Dorothy perkins, house of fraser online stores. etc. And when I am in Nigeria, if I really need something, I buy from Ali express. All these must qualify as a need for me to even get them since I am not exactly a spender. But online shopping in Nigeria, I have never done it. And I have never seen the need for it, because again… I hardly buy anything.

Also, I am a seller on Jumia and Konga. I’ve been with Jumia for about 3 years now. Let me say our relationship is like a regular healthy marriage. We fight and make up. We’ve had more good times than bad times, and in the end, our relationship is beneficial to both parties.

I think I was more confident to buy on Jumia because I sell on Jumia anyway, and people buy my products, so why shouldn’t I buy there too? Also, I have my own online store, where we make a lot of our sales. So I have no reason on earth to refuse to eat the food I prepare.

Anyway, I gave it a try, and placed my order. I had chosen the standard delivery because the express delivery meant I would get the next day since I ordered after 1pm. The Saturday delivery was too risky for me because I had to leave home by 12noon for a performance. So even though it was compulsory for me to get the phone in a maximum of 4 days, I chose standard delivery, which was promised for delivery of 2-7 working days, and it was cheaper than express delivery.

Since I was a first time buyer, some lady called me one hour later to confirm my seriousness. I confirmed, and told her I needed the phone asap, and explained why I couldn’t use the express delivery. She told me my ordered item was under a delivery of 1-4 days. Anyway, around 7.30am on Saturday, some guy calls me, and asks if he can deliver to me that day, to which I said as long as he makes it before 12 noon.

Lo and behold, by 9am, I got my phone. I was pleasantly surprised and pleased, that I even purposely paid the delivery guy extra. I mean, I ordered the phone past 6pm on Friday, and I chose standard delivery. So that’s how I’d have wasted extra money on express delivery.

Now, I don’t know whether everyone who buys on Jumia has such a pleasant experience. Maybe I was treated with such love and priority because this is my first time, but the stress was taken off me and my assistant completely. I mean, I went on google to search for a phone, and I ended up with a phone in my hand in 15 hours.

Please note, after placing the order on Jumia, I also went to Konga to see if I could get a better deal, but it was more expensive by 5,000 naira, so I didn’t bother. My products on Jumia and Konga cost the same, so I’m covered in that aspect, though I have more products on Konga than Jumia. You can visit my store on Jumia and Konga by clicking here and here.

Will I shop online in Nigeria again? Well, if it is an urgent need, and I get the best deal online, yes I would. If not, well, sayonara.

What of you? Have you shopped online in Nigeria? What was your experience like? Good, like mine, or terrible?


I was not asked, paid, or cajoled by Jumia or anyone to do this post. In fact, no one or organisation was aware of my intention to do this post. I am just writing my personal experience. Anything that suggests the contrary is a mere coincidence. Thank you.

Monday, October 12, 2015

The reason for her happiness...


Wedding Bells ring
Ring placed on her finger
Fingers placed in her husbands 
Husbands kiss on her lips
Lips curved up smiling in happiness 
Happiness not because she met the man of her dreams
Dreams have finally produced a sigh of relief 
Relief that now, all the aunties will finally give her a break

Monday, October 5, 2015

The Robot who dressed in Human Flesh

All my life, I see people carry themselves and take actions that make it seem like they have no choice.

People do things to please family, friends, foes, everyone but themselves. We are all aware of the radical decisions people make to please others, but that is not what I want to talk about now. I am talking about simple everyday decisions.

Do you know that choice is not a gift or privilege to you? It is your right as a human being, and you should exercise it every day of your life, knowing that every choice you make has its consequences.
As a child, you have the right to obey or disobey your parents. It is your choice, but you must fully understand the consequence of disobeying your parents. So you can choose to obey them because you understand that the consequence of not doing so will spell doom for your future, not because you are a robot devoid of choice.

As an adult, you have a choice to be lazy or hardworking. You have a right to choose how exactly you want your life to play out. You shouldn’t graduate from school and then look for a job just because society expects you to. You should understand that you have the choice to be a lazy bum just occupying a space on earth, and you must understand the consequence of that choice, which is that you will become no one to be reckoned with, and possibly poverty-stricken, suicidal, and depressed.

Why am I taking this angle?

The lack of understanding of choice and consequences is what has driven so many people to frustration today. People live by the guideline that society has set for them. I have to obey my parents because I was groomed to do so. I have to study hard and excel in school because my parents would like it. I must then get a job because that’s the next thing society expects. I would then get married because well… that’s the next thing on the agenda. I have to slave for a promotion at work or strive for my business to expand because my children have to go to good schools. And so it goes on and on and on. After 50 years, we get a successful but frustrated individual perfectly cooked up in the pressure cooker of ‘societal expectations.’

Do you know what? No you don’t! You don’t have to obey your parents. You don’t have to study hard. You don’t have to get a job. You don’t have to get into a relationship or get married. You don’t have to strive for a better pay. In fact, you would be exercising your right as a human being if you do the opposite of all these. You won’t be doing anything wrong


You must understand the role of choice and consequences. Each choice leads to an outcome, and you must choose wisely. So let’s flip the script a little bit.

I choose to obey my parents because disobeying them would cause my future to be doomed (or earn me serious thrashing if you are an African child, lol). I choose to study hard and excel in school because I understand the role it plays in the opportunities presented to me later on. I choose to get a job or start a business because I understand that I have been placed on this earth for a purpose, and I want that purpose fulfilled before I die. I choose to get married because I understand the role of companionship in the life of an individual, I found someone I love and loves me back, and life would be dreary without him/her. I choose to strive for promotion at work or business expansion because I want a better quality of life, and to give my family the opportunity to make well-informed choices like I have done. I choose, I choose, I choose.

After 50 years, we get an individual who knows that no matter how his life turns out, he can rest knowing that he made his own choices. This individual is bound to be more fulfilled, and would makes less mistakes because his life is well thought out.

I pray that in raising children, parents would explain well the principle of choice and consequence rather than take the because-I-said-so approach, which is what most people do. A child who understands choice and consequence to the tee turns out well in life.

And to the fully-formed adults, let us all drop the I-have-to-do-it attitude we approach life with. No you don’t. You don’t have to do it because it is expected of you. You have a choice. You have a choice. You have a choice.

You don’t have to marry that man. You can wait for a better man, even though you would have to wait a little longer. Why marry into misery?

You don’t have to stay in that job. You can resign, and fulfill your purpose on earth, even though you might have to be broke for a little while, and be more financially prudent. Why live a life of frustration?

You don’t have to join every trend you see in real life or social media even though you don’t understand it. You can choose to stand out of the pack, and be counted for something more reasonable. Why lose yourself just because you want to blend in?

You don't have to go to every friend's house to play and gossip. You don't have to buy that extra Aso Ebi, whether you have a similar colour in your closet or not. Trust me, you would save a lot of time and money by doing these two things. People will laugh at you, insult you, and say all sorts, but remember you have a right to choice. Any other thing is you handing that right over to society.

It is your life. It is not your father’s life, friend’s life, sister’s life, or brother’s life. It is your life!

You are not a robot disguised in flesh. You are a human being.

You have a choice! Exercise it.

Monday, September 28, 2015

Words designed to Intimidate

It's very funny when people size you up and think they can just manipulate you anyhow with words even when they have no point.

My first conscious experience of this was when someone brought his sister to my house. The guy was just tired of working, and didn't know how to say it. So this girl comes, sizes me up in my house maid clothes and funny headgear typical of ladies with natural hair in their comfort zone. Inside my ragged attire was my very small body so she concluded she could intimidate me with words. So she started talking, blasting her British accent cos she just came from England the previous week. She was talking about the fact that her brother was stressed out and all, and they never sought her opinion before allowing her brother work so he would stop working. She was out to intimidate, and she wasn't hiding the fact. When she was done, I asked her two very simple questions.

"Did your brother tell you that I am extremely analytical, and that I am a spoken word artist?"
And with that, I opened my mouth, and shredded all her statements, bullet point after bullet point, using the appropriate words with my very normal accent. After all, I didn't grow up in yankee or jand.

When I was done, she was all "oh, I didn't know so so was the case. He didn't tell me this and that"
She obviously expected me to talk like the tiny illiterate she sized me up to be.

Anyway, I just shook my head. It was her brother I blamed cos we are friends and he knows the way I reason and should have warned his sister.

Last week, someone tried to manipulate me on Facebook. After the punch interview, I got loads of Facebook request. I normally don't accept Facebook requests from people I don't know. It doesn't even matter cos everything I post on Facebook is public (I use social media mainly for publicity) so my Facebook friends don't really have that much advantage over my non Facebook friends. Anyway, 5 days after the interview, I accepted some of the requests mostly from people I have mutual friends with.

Only for me to get a message that
Madam young under-30 entrepreneur Atilola, shey you see somebody cannot like something on your facebook wall now. shey you wee nor accept our friend request ni? ese gaan o
You see this message is typically designed to do something- make you feel guilty. They don't address you directly by your name. That's why she said madam young entrepreneur. She didn't just say Atilola, accept my request. She positioned her words to make me feel like the reason I didn't accept her friend request is because I have been featured as a young entrepreneur. These things are very subtle but they get the job done. They are designed to make you feel guilty, manipulate you and push you into a tight corner.

She didn't even consider that I might not have seen her request or I don't accept random request, which was the case here

The mistake this girl made is that she forgot I'm a spoken word artist and word play is my game. She tried to sell ice to an Eskimo. I don't even know her from Adam. She should have just sent a polite message and I would have started chatting with her in a jiffy but she chose this path instead?

So what did I do to her? I considered replying her to tell her that she could have been more polite about her request instead to trying to be manipulative. But I did what I normally do in cases like this – I ignored the message, and faced my work, hoping she would just leave me alone and realise her error.

Anyway because of these two cases and many more, I wrote this poem below, and it is dedicated to all spoken word artists and everyone whom someone has tried to scam at their own game.

You can fight me with money, knives, guns, wealth, influence or insults
But please don't fight me with words
I am a spoken word artist
I use words to make you laugh, cry, reflect, dance, fall in love, condemn or praise
It is my skill and trade
I do not know how to insult
I detest vulgar language
But I can bend words to do my bidding
They are my weapons
So please don't fight me with words
Cos if you do
It won't be a fair battle, it won't even be a war
It would be cold blood murder!!!

Monday, September 21, 2015

I was called a liar yesterday!

So I was in church by past 8am yesterday when I turned off my data to get last minute emails before I start working when I saw an email from the punch correspondent who interviewed me. She had sent me an email by 7am but I did not see it on time because of church rush.

I started calling people who could buy the newspaper on their way to church so I could take a screenshot and publicise it. It was difficult as everyone was saying they couldn’t get newspaper for one reason or the other, but eventually found someone, and my mind became at rest.

My work started by 8.45 on the dot, and by 9.30am, the person came to me, and explained how he couldn’t get it. By this time, I had to stop myself from panicking cos I did not plan to get home till about 9pm, and by then, the day would be over. I got back to continue my work with the teens.

After teaching/preaching sha, I had like another 45 minutes of rest before my next meeting. It was then that it occurred to me that I should call my mum to get the paper and read the interview. All I needed was for her to see it with her eyes and tell me the page.

I picked my phone, and immediately saw a twitter notification from HoneyDame. I never knew there would be a time HoneyDame would come through for me in a time of emergency, because not only did she notify me of the interview, she had done a screenshot of it. It was as if God told her exactly what I needed at that time, and just told her to do it. I was so excited, though she didn't realise the impact she had on me because there was no way I could have left church to get what I needed.

Courtesy HoneyDame

So I took her screenshot, and used it for publicity, and then called my mum to buy the paper, and keep it for me till I get home at night. By this time, amidst the plenty talk with teens here and there, it was time for the next meeting, and then the next one. By the time I was settled, it was about 2.00pm.
I went straight to my car, got my laptop, and resumed work for the day. I was well prepared cos I had to be at the SheHive open house for young entrepreneurs by 5pm, and there was no way I was going to go to the mainland, and return to the island. And the amount of work waiting for me was just too much. So I stayed back, worked, and left church by 4.30pm. Of course, my car was the only one in the premises, and it is not a small church by any criteria.

I went for the gathering, and finally got home around 8.30pm, and my mum gave me the newspaper. I just took it, kept it aside, and continued working till late. If you didn’t read the interview yesterday for any reason, you can read it online here.

I really wish I could say this stressful weekend was a one-off for me. But my weekends are always packed even though I turn down a lot of appointments. They are far tighter than my week days, even though I don’t even go to social gatherings – no weddings, parties or all that, except I am performing there.

Someone said I lied about the fact that I started with just N3000, while someone commented on Instagram, asking if I am sure about the figure.

This is exactly the mindset that is killing some people in Nigeria. They think they need all the money in the world to start a business. Most of you who read this blog know where African Naturalistas started from, the days of paper stickers and Gbadebo market plastics. We started from NOTHING. I don’t know if people don’t believe in starting small again. They just see businesses that look good on the outside, but they don’t know the beginning story. I don’t even understand why I would go to the pages of newspaper, and lie… as if starting with such a small money would fetch me one medal or something. I think many people just don’t want to accept that they can do so much with very little. I have several businesses I do, and I have not used start up capital for any of them.

The way the world is going now, the creative industry is debunking the whole 'capital' mentality. Don't get me wrong, you might need some investment to expand your business after it gets to a particular level, but not to start afresh.

Secondly, according to my lifestyle, I am very open, and very truthful. It is not because I am saint, but because I generally have no reason to lie about anything or cover up stuff, since I basically have nothing to cover up. I believe once you are not shady, and who you portray yourself to be on the outside is who you really are one the inside, there would be no need for lies.

To everyone who has supported any of my ventures, thank you. Please read the interview here, if you haven’t read it.

HoneyDame, thank you for coming through for me yesterday. You saved my day from getting scattered.

Monday, September 14, 2015

Disobedience temporarily disfigured my face

If you have been following me for a while, you will know that there are some strange things going on with my dental life, and it started right from a very young age.

I first mentioned my open bite on this post, and pointed out that my canine and incisors are practically non-functional. I cannot bite or tear.

The last dentist I saw said that according to science standards, I should have a speech impediment due to the position of my teeth and shape of my dentition. She was very surprised that I could talk properly. If only she knew that not only could I just talk properly, I actually earn part of my income from talking. She said that I shouldn’t bother my head. Ideally it would have required a surgical process spanning over 4 years or so, to correct. I had done some research on that surgery two years ago, and I knew I couldn’t go through it cos it would kill my career

I guess the talker in me would not be stopped when at the age of 5, my grandmother noticed that my teeth wouldn’t close. At that little age, the fighter in me learnt how to distort her lips, roll or flatten her tongue to get every word out, just like a person blessed with normal dentition. I do it so well that you might have to capture me speaking in a picture or intentionally look at mouth while I am talking before you see the magic being performed, lol. Even my mum never noticed the disorder until she watched me on TV, which is strange considering the fact that I have been this way since about 5 years old.

I am not that child that falls sick or gives her parents the usual medical problems, but when it comes to dental issues, you don’t want to try me, even though I don’t have a sweet tooth. I have replaced a tooth, filled a tooth, removed a tooth, and even had impacted 8 surgery where I was operated upon live, with my jawbone drilled into, tooth removed, and gum sewed back - the worst experience of my life, that I would never wish on my worst enemy.

Anyway, after my last dental appointment last year, when I went to replace my tooth, and opted for a silver crown, the dentist warned me not to eat with one side of my mouth, in order to avoid being disfigured because of lack of mouth exercise, which is a condition normally noticed in people that have gone through similar procedures.

I thanked her, and assured her that I would heed her warnings.

I won’t lie. It was difficult. I just couldn’t bring myself to eat with the left side of my mouth, and after 1 week or so, I gave up.

Exactly a year later, while rehearsing in front of the mirror, I felt something was wrong with my face while I was talking, but dismissed it since I have always had to distort my mouth in order to correctly get the words out.

A few days later, I appeared in the picture below. One look at it, and I knew there was fire on the mountain.

See my normal smile below

Now, look closely at my face 2 weeks ago
Update: I had to highlight the picture to capture the difference cos some people said they didn't notice any difference, even though it was glaring to me, lol.

The facial muscle on the left had fallen, and my smile and lips was tilted to one side. There was absolutely no cheek raise because the musles couldn't be lifted again

I was getting disfigured, and I didn’t even know it. My one year of negligence and stubbornness was telling on me. It was like a slow fade effect that comes stage by stage, that you won’t even know when it is happening. I started to panic immediately. My facial muscle on the left had obviously fallen due to lack of usage. I didn’t want to be disfigured.  At least, now, I am the only one who noticed. Another six months of negligence, and it would have been deliverance session for me, lol.

I called the dentist immediately, and she told me what to do. Things are getting better, the muscles have lifted a bit, but not as high as they should be. The smile of mine that I never really appreciated has now become gold to me, now that I know it is possible to lose it.

As from today, I will never ignore my dentist’s advice. Who wants to go about with a permanently damaged smile?

Monday, September 7, 2015

Anything for the Boys?

I got back home from church on a demanding but very fruitful Saturday. I had gone early morning to inspect the presentation of some teenagers I trained on spoken word for a mentorship camp, while my students in church were waiting for me. I quickly ran to church and we did our spoken word rehearsals for a final presentation that was supposed to happen in service the next day.

By this time, I was already absent for the Bible boot camp we organised for our teenagers, where we were talking about the influence of music and media. I quickly finished up my rehearsals and went for the boot camp, where I tried to do some regulations, and looked for a little trouble. After, I had to run to Tomi Akibo’s house for an apology visit because I missed her wedding (due to work at church).  I then quickly ran home to sort myself out. I had two presentations in two different services the next day. I was basically praying for magic powers to help me split myself into two.

I got home, and someone packed insanely in the middle of the road, such that I couldn’t enter my house, and then my brother blocked the gate!

I was like “whaaaaattt? After such a day, this is the time for me not to be able to enter my house with peace of mind.” So I was stuck in the middle of the road. I got down, and thankfully I saw the road blocker, and begged him to remove his car, while I went to my brother’s friend’s house to call my brother to remove his own car. Nobody answered my knocks, so I walked back to my car, so I could get my phone to call my brother when it happened.

One of the neighbourhood carpenters who sometimes does menial jobs for me walked up to me, and said “se ki n wa?” should I come?

I said “fun kini?” for what?

He said “Fun nkan weekend.” For weekend things

I said in yoruba, “guy, is it not money we are all working for?” I was already getting pissed that I wasn’t able to reach my brother.

Immediately, the second guy, who I happened to call Uncle something cos we basically grew up in the same neighbourhood before he left and built his family, and had now come back to become a nuisance, said in a toutish “Emi nko. Ti o ba tie se weekend fun owun, sebi was a fun emi, egbon e?”
What of me? At least, if you don’t do weekend for him, you will give me, your senior.

I was boiling at this point, thinking “what do these people think of me? That I am father Christmas, or I just go out on weekends, and return with money?”

I said “nkan weekend wo?” what weekend thing?

The 40 something year old guy said “O ni lo o ti o ba se weekend fun mi.” You won’t leave if you don’t do weekend for me

I said “Okay, e duro sibe.” Wait there. And I basically, walked away, extremely annoyed. Yes, I walked away.

Bill Cosby Disdain
I was like this guy is not even ashamed to harass me for money. This guy was a full grown adult when I was celebrating my second birthday o. He doesn’t even know how I hustle from money to night to get money.

Anyway, I finally got my brother to remove his car, and packed properly in the house, totally ignoring the man, like he wasn’t even there.

So my first question is how do you deal with people who just walk up to you because they know you, and ask you for money just because they saw you, and no other reason?

Another thing is few weeks ago, I had the fantasy that I must change my car because I felt I saw a good deal, and I had always wanted a jeep. My brother said I shouldn’t get the car, the parts are expensive, it chops fuel, bla bla bla. He said I should get a smaller car. I said I wanted a big car. So after all the back and forth, I decided that I wasn’t getting any new car because the truth is I want a new car, but I don’t need a new car for now.

So imagine me driving that big car I fantasised about, and these people saw me. They basically have the feeling that I have hit jackpot somewhere, not considering how long I drove my old car, and how long I saved for a new one.

Once you drive a big car, you must be stinkingly rich, and ready to give them free money. If you don’t give them, then you must be stingy. It doesn’t matter how much responsibilities you have.

So my second question is how do you enjoy your climb on the ladder of success without everyone around you thinking you are a wicked person for not dishing a slice of the cake to them?

Monday, August 31, 2015

Close Shaves Series – part 7. The Internet Plan story

So I was going to church on Saturday morning to teach my students as usual, with one of them beside me in the car when we got talking about mobile internet. I can’t remember how we got to that point but I told her there’s this plan airtel is doing where all the chats are for free, and she gets free calls, texts, etc. I told her the details are on my phone but I didn’t want to show her cos I don’t like bringing my phone out while driving.

By this time, we were on Ozumba, and had slowed down because of the traffic light. I looked around, and said “what the hell? Let me just bring the phone out of my middle compartment, that nothing would happen. So when the car in front of me moved forward a bit, I didn’t move, but instead bent my head to get the phone.

I immediately looked back up and saw a car come from nowhere on the second or third lane, and drove headlong into the space I had left in front of me, to the point of climbing the kerb the streetlight was planted in.

It was just a split second, and that car would have crashed into my car with that much force, and crushed my student first, and then me. I had just avoided a major accident just because I bent my head down to look at my middle compartment.

My student and I were visibly shaken, and knew it was just God. I had left just enough gap for the car to crash in front of me, such that though it was right in front of my windscreen, it didn’t even touch my car one bit, though it grazed the car previously in front of me just a little bit.

Till now, I still don’t know where the old Mercedes benz came from, or if it happened because its breaks failed, or it lost control, but I know God saved me. Imagine my RIP pictures all over social media, God forbid.

I immediately drove away from the scene, and it wasn’t until two days later it occurred to me that I should have taken pictures. It was so traumatising that I didn’t even want to stay there for just one more second.

The funny thing is that up till today, I still haven’t shown my student the message about the internet on the phone. I never brought out that phone from the middle compartment. It definitely was just a diversion by the Holy Spirit.

God saved me once again. The devil has tried, but he has failed – once again.

You can read my other close shave with death experiences here.

Monday, August 24, 2015

How Constant Power Supply will drive us to tears

I am not one to joke about the state of Nigeria’s problems, but I just couldn’t resist. A lot of thought were going through my mind recently when people said they’ve been having better power supply. All through that period, I was fuming because we didn’t have light for two weeks due to our transformer blowing.

After it was fixed, they resumed their normal ‘two days on, one day off’ power rotation. And they still take light periodically during the two days o.

Anyway, from people’s comments after few days of good power supply, this is what I project Nigerian’s reactions if we had constant power supply for the following numbers of days.

1 day : “this phcn, their head is correct.”

2 days:  “wow, so phcn can be nice like this.”

3 days:  “hmm, phcn what is happening o?”

5 days:  “phcn, it is okay. We have enjoyed the light enough. All our gadgets are now fully charged. You can take your light again.”

1 week: *Nigerians are rolling their eyes in suspicion*

2 weeks: “This is definitely a set up for a big conspiracy phcn is planning against us.”

1 month: "Seriously phcn, e don do. We now agree you exist and are effective. Point noted. We will never doubt your abilities again."

2 months: *people are losing their minds. “PHCN please, take the light. We are not used to this. We can’t handle this torment anymore. Pleeeaaaassseee.”


5 months: *Nigerians are freezing cold, and walking around in winter jacket. Every single thing is working*

1 year: *Nigerians constantly being discharged from hospital after being treated for recurring shock.

So what do you guys think? Am I right in my reaction projections? I am not sure about us making it to one year without uninterrupted power supply in the next 10 years.

As at now, I can’t even remember us having 3 days uninterrupted power supply in Lagos for the past 25 years. So 1 week is being too optimistic for now.

Monday, August 17, 2015

Modern Day Religious Manipulations

So sometime recently my mum came to meet me, and said one pastor said everyone in my family should come together and pray for three hours every night for one month or so. She said something like the theme is ‘moving forward.’

So we looked at each other, and burst into laughter. I said three hours?

How are supposed to gather EVERYONE for THREE HOURS, EVERY NIGHT?

She said she told the person it won’t be possible, that she will pray what she can pray, and tell me, so I can do the remaining, since I pray for long hours every evening, anyway.

I asked my mum. “So, if we don’t do up to three hours, God will not answer our prayers?”

Needless to say, this was where the conversation died.

I have come to the level where all these ‘spiritual manipulations’ disguised with good intentions on the road to breakthrough don’t move me one bit anymore. I have too much experience for all that crap to work on me. If you find yourself been bounced around by all these hullabaloo, even as a Christian, it is not because you are bad or weak. It is just a sign of a troubled and restless spirit.

Trust me, I have been there.

Gone are the days when religious manipulators came in celestial white garments, and ask you to drink and bathe in holy water. That is just old school. No one would ask you to go to bar beach again. Fashola and Tinubu have reduced their market with the whole Eko Atlantic Beach thing. The 7 Broomsticks-beating times are over, as it doesn’t appeal to the elite. It is a whole new game now.
The spiritual manipulators of these times are very cunning. They are in every church, and they prey on the weak and troubled. And they can catch anybody, no matter how strong.

Here goes my own personal experience.

There was a time in my life when everything around me was crumbling. I lost things most important to me, and I basically thought I could not move on without recovering them. I was weak, tired, and just wanted my life to be over. This is that period in your life when your friends and family just keep looking at you and praying for you to recover because they know there’s basically nothing within their power they can do to help you get back up again. Even my pastor kept praying for me and encouraging me. Still, it wasn’t enough. I wanted a quick-fix solution.

That’s how I went to look for trouble when I agreed to see one of my aunt’s pastor in a redeemed church. She said he’s a prayer warrior, and very effective. I went to see him. In fact, the drama in the church that day made me laugh so much that I immediately wrote this post, The God of Visas, and blogged about it. Read it here. Anyway, I finally got to meet this pastor. I should have suspected him because it looked he was just a worker in the church. He immediately scolded me for questioning God, and asked me to start fasting again for 21 days (I had just concluded a personal fast). He said he will be sending daily prayer points, bla bla.

After about 10 days, I sent him credit because my aunt said I should send him credit since he is sending me prayer points. I sent him 1500 twice in the period of 21 day. Even though a text message costs N4.00, it was nothing to me. I mean he was specially interested in me, right? Never mind that I already had hundreds of prayer points and declarations I had prepared for myself. After all, I was the one looking for fast solution.

Anyway, after the 21 days was over, this pastor will call and pray for me well, and ask me to send him credit. The first time, I did it, but with raised eyebrows.

One morning of a week day, he called me and asked him to send him credit. Unfortunately, I was in Nnewi, in a remote area. The company my firm had sent our team to go and clean up their accounts temporarily lodged us in one of the CEO’s guest houses, and we were surrounded by bushes. So I told the pastor I couldn’t get credit, explaining the situation of things to him.

He kept insisting I go out and buy the credit, or find someone to send to get the credit, because he doesn’t understand how someone like me won’t have access to credit. I was irritated, and immediately decided to cut him out of my life.

I stopped picking his calls, apart from one time I picked by mistake because he called my second line.

I told my aunt what happened, and she apologised saying she didn’t know he was like that, and would report him in the church.

So these are the signs of such people

They are very manipulative, starting and ending calls with prayers God did not send them to pray for you. They never run out of prophesies.

They will usually send you prayer points, and tell you they are praying for you too.

They will make you dependent on them totally. This is a strategy, because if things begin to turn around for you, you will always attribute it to the fact that “That pastor can pray o. Ha, he is a powerful man of God.” And then you will eventually turn the pastor to your God, and start giving him whatever he asks for.

If you meet any pastor who doesn’t encourage you to study the word yourself, and find God yourself, RUN!

They usually don't have any full time job or full time ministry, and prey on mostly the working class society.

Most times, they are formulaic/numerical in their approach. Fast for 21 days. Pray by 6pm and 11pm everyday. Pray for 2 hours. Shout Hallellujah 7 times for 7 days at the 7th hour. They lack creativity, and their approach doesn't give room for the Holy Spirit to do His thing, seeing He cannot be confined to formulas and numbers.

They are in every church, EVERY CHURCH - Catholic, Pentecostal, Celestial, Redeemed, Winners, Baptist, CAC, Methodist – you name it, you will find them there.

Beware of them. I believe I was able to see him for who he was because I was already strong spiritually before I got into trouble, but only got caught in my weak moment. Some people are not so lucky, and end up being lifetime victims of the greedy posers in the kingdom of God.

On the flipside, don’t stop going to church because of these wolves in sheep's clothing. See my reason below

Monday, August 10, 2015

Children, listen to your Teachers

Haaaa, I can't even laugh. Last post's designer word play challenge made me learn many things.

1. Smartness - Some people are so smart that they pick out answers to problems that the teacher never even thought about. Many people picked designers I never thought of, while some manufactured their own so they could make up 24.

2. Copy Copy - What did they teach us about not dubbing other people's work in school again? Some people just copied and other people's works and added one or two more, such that they copied the wrong answers.

So these are some of the non-existent answers that you really smart people gave me. Fortune, Ted Baker, Bakers, Amy Butler, Desire, Delicious, Victoria Beckham, Helm boot, Dorothy Schoelen. Thanks for really trying.

So here are the answers.

Next Christmas
H and M
Michael Kors
Victoria’s secret
House of Fraser
United colours of Benetton
Forever 21
Baby phat
Calvin klein
River island
Dorthy perkins
Ralph lauren

I am really sorry about this, when I saw the different answers, I determined to give whoever got a minimum of 21, especially seeing I actually had 23, not 24. Unfortunately, the two highest got 20 out of 23, so I am keeping the mixit jewelry for the next giveaway. The reason I can't give it out is because there was more than one person who improvised and came up with new designers, and I have just one pack.

Monday, August 3, 2015

Shop through my punchline story, and win a jewelry set

Hello dearies. How are you all doing? I am sorry I am putting you through this. I was just playing around, and I thought it would be nice to have you all join me in this erepa of words. Below is a short story. I have used major clothing brands/stores/ideologies many of us wear to form the story. There are 24 brands hidden and not-so-hidden in the story. You are to find as many as possible, and list them in the comment section. I will ship a box of Mixit jewelry I got from JC Penny to whoever gets all the 24 wherever you are in the world. You have just one week, i.e. this opportunity ends next Monday, 10th August by 10.59am GMT+1. Please, let's make it fun. Even if you don't know all 24, just put all the ones you got in the comment box. Whatever happens, just make sure you read, lol.
Your time starts now. You guys are darlings.


Baker Helmz and Butler Mauritz knew Victoria’s secret was to remain forever 21. I don’t know how possible it is because even her older cousin, Zara had earlier realised that clothes revealing her persistent baby fat were no longer appropriate for the office. When Calvin cleanly revealed this gap to her, she threw tantrums and isolated herself to the River Island where she met Dorothy, perkin’ away in order to attract the attention of Ralph so they could elope together to the oasis. Victoria’s guess was that Dorothy’s effort was futile, seeing Ralph was already engaged to Lauren, the daughter of Mr Selfridge, and his eyes were set on her fortune.

Her countenance was uplifted, knowing her plight was not as hopeless as that of Dorothy, so she decided to cheer herself up by going to Dr Fraser’s house to hang out with her lover, Michael, cause she knew he would understand the reason for her strong desire to remain as youthful and bright as a peacock. He had always read her poems of how her love united the colors of his dull heart, making it more beautiful than Mayor Bennetton’s flower garden.

After sometime, they binged on the great Mr Ben’s hams, which proved to be a source of delicacy. At the end of the day, after playing several games of polo, Victoria was hopeful again. She then decided that she was going to save her almost impossible wish as her next Christmas request.

Monday, July 27, 2015

How to fight dirty in the Information Age

Have you ever been cheated in a business transaction, by a business colleague? Has any business ever taken you for granted, and basically called your bluff because they felt you were a dog with a mere bark, and no bite? Do you have a strong social media presence, then let me teach you how to fight.
How do you like my pitch? Oya, straight down to business.

I am not ordinarily one for public shaming, especially since I know it is not cool to be a victim. However, I have now come to realise that sometimes, we must engage in public shaming, not because of any desire to humiliate or disgrace, but because sometimes, we must protect ourselves, warn other people, and send a message to people that they cannot just to things to others and think they would get away with it because their hands are tied. Now, I understand what Okechukwu Ofili must have felt when he called out Silverbird bookshop and other major bookshops in Nigeria who had been ripping off self-published authors because they had no one to stand up for them.

I started engaging a certain man, who we will call Mr C, when my herbs supplier in India introduced him to me as the man who could ship my herbs from India. She had gotten his contact online, through his website – another reason I think this medium is most appropriate since there are others like me who might make the mistake of trusting in his credibility after meeting him online.

After some calculations, and consulting with his colleagues in India, it was agreed that I would have to pay something close to 300 dollars to ship and clear my herbs. My supplier shipped the herbs to his Indian colleague. He asked me to pay 200 dollars, which I did in a matter of hours.

I was really eager to collect my herbs last year October, as I knew I would be travelling soon. He kept promising me my products. Let’s just say that between then and now, I have travelled to 5 different countries, yet he never brought my products to me.

It started with the story of the fact that some airlines were rejecting the herbs because powders required more scrutiny in Nigeria, which I completely understood, though my frustration knew no bounds.

Then the lies started. “The powders have been shipped. No, they were not shipped, NAHCO strike is affecting it. The warehouse has been locked for days. Christmas problems. New Year problems. Election problems.”

Through it all, I stayed calm. Mostly because I had no choice. The goods were with them, and my money was with them.

Some weeks after election, I got frustrated, and decided to call his Indian colleague. I found out this colleague was in Nigeria, and had been here for quite a while. He had dumped my package with another colleague of his there. That one had hustled to ship the herbs, and it had been here – since January!!!

I couldn’t believe my ears. This was a transaction I started since last year September, that was supposed to take few days. And this was now April.

To cut the long story short, the Indian counterparts asked Mr C to bring 510 dollars to clear the products. Mr C seemed to be fuming because we felt that was just too outrageous to clear products worth about N40,000.00. He said he would keep pricing it, and by this time I was getting impatient.

Anyway, two days later, Mr C said he doesn’t want to use his own personal issues to disturb me, that I should go and clear the herbs myself. He said he would return my 200 dollars. This was in April. I asked which personal issues. He said “I told you my father died. We are doing the funeral in the village.”

It was at this point my countenance towards him changed. He had told me about three weeks earlier that his mother died, and he went to bury her. Now, he was lying that it was his father.

Let’s just say between then and now, it has been a deluge of lies, avoidance, and more lies. He later begged to return N40,000.00 instead of 200 dollars, to which I agreed. The most painful part was that if Mr C didn’t pay the money, how would I take 510 dollars to clear those herbs? It would amount to me using 710 dollars to clear the herbs, and my loss would be massive.

After waiting and waiting and waiting, with more tons of promises, lies, and lies, and lies, I finally decided to clear the herbs myself, without informing Mr C. I did this because I didn’t know the reputation of the agent they had given my herbs to, if they would just dump them somewhere once they don’t see me. And most importantly, the herbs had been there since January. I had bought them since last year September, and they had expiry dates. I couldn’t let Mr C’s fraudulent character kill my own business demands.

On the day I cleared the herbs, Mr C paid me N10,000. Maybe in his mind, he felt he has paid me my money because since then, he has gone from lies and pleas to even raking for me. He just keeps saying “I will pay this week. I will pay next week.” I think because he believes it might not be a lot of money, I will get tired and leave it for him. But the truth is that it means, the loss I am already incurring would even be more.

And he was right in his thought. I got tired. This whole affair had gone on for too long – almost a year! Trust me, what I wrote here is a serious understatement of the real story. The full story will just be too long.

So what did I do? I decided to call Mr C out online, since the internet it where he gets his customers. So I wrote a full blog post like the one you read above, but I included his name, company, website, picture, etc.

I ended with this… “Don’t ever patronise Mr C. He is a liar, cheat, and a fraud! He takes advantage of the fact that people have no way of lashing and fighting back. Many times, he likes to play smart, but he is not that smart. Everyone who imports should stay far away from this man. I have decided to add his picture, in case his current company runs down, and he decides to set up another company.”

And then I sent the blog post to his email, telling him that the only reason he tried this nonsense with me is because he doesn’t know me and my reputation on social media. I told him he had till Monday morning 11.00 am to pay me my money, or the blog post would automatically appear. I would never take it down, unless the money was paid. Anyone who searches for his company would see the blog post. I then scheduled the post to appear at the promised time.

Of course, he knew I wasn’t kidding because I had already done the blog post. If I had gone to that length, then I couldn’t be bluffing.

As usual, he started agitating, and making promises. I didn’t even say anything, and never called him or made a request. Let’s just say that two days later, I received my money.

And that, my friends, is how to fight a battle in this age, without lifting a finger.

Monday, July 20, 2015

Ere's Secret by Firi Kamson

Finally  Ere's Secret is available for pre order on all platforms, from Barnes and Noble to amazon uk, us and canada. and yes our very reliable smashwords.

Yippee Finally…. Ere’s secret by Firi Kamson is available for pre-order on all the platforms from AMAZON to Barnes and Noble.

The book blurb

"I have a secret.
In three days, i'll be turning 40 and i'm in love for the first time. decades ago, i sacrificed my life for the good of my family. but tragedy struck too close to home, reminding me of the brevity of life. Noe i have a choice to make: continue living in the shadows of allow my true self to emerge'.

Ere's Secret promises to be an interesting and easy read, and yes it takes us a while before we discover what the secret it.

About the author:

 Firi kamson was born in Nigeria, where she grew up. Becoming a lawyer, a writer and a pilot was her childhood dream. She dropped the lawyer part and got a B.A. in foreign languages and literature specializing in french. Worked as a freelance translator and a photographer for a couple of years before she decided to explore the creative world of writing. She writes a column for, as Tee, an online Nigerian based magazine, where she journals her experiences in South East Asia. The dream of becoming a pilot is still there and who known one day it would be fulfilled. she lives in South East Asia with her nerdy husband and very active daughter and son. Ere's Secret is her first book.

Free copies available. to get a free copy share this blog post on your Facebook wall, twitter page, leave your email address and we would get back to you. hurry up while offer last. winners would be chosen randomly.

Monday, July 13, 2015

One more Blog Post

In the middle of the pain
We will act like nothing is wrong
We will smile when we get to church
Not the regular smile
We will find a way to fake a duchenne one
We will pull our pastor into a corner
Cry on his shoulders
Telling him of how lonely and hollow we feel
How he beat us again
After collecting our money again
How we are miserable again
Because no man looked our way or complimented us again
We would come out of the corner with smiles plastered on our face
After our pastor has dried our tears with his expensive suit
He doesn’t mind that we ruined it with our tears
It sure looks like the one we bought him from Selfridges on our last vacation
Similar to the one we would buy him from harrods on our next vacation
We run home, flip open our laptops
We will write one more blog post

But for now, we would hold our head high
We would tweet
We would act like our lives are perfect
We will not give in to the depression
We will write one more blog post

… A blog post about depression
How it is a cancerous disease that affects other people
Especially pretentiously happy celebrities
Robbin’ Williams of his last comic act
But would never touch ordinary people like us with a bargepole

We would post joyful-sounding status on facebook
Our best friend will ‘like’ our status
We would smile a knowing smile
Knowing she was the one who stayed awake all night to counsel us after he broke our heart once again
Her ‘likes’ really meaning “I know your secret, but I’ll just pretend with you on social media
And if that’s what you want
I will even comment when you write…
One more blog post”

We would go on Instagram
We would check out pictures
We would like pictures
We would post pictures
Pictures of us standing side by side with the source of our pain, swollen faces and bleeding hearts
People will check out our pictures
They would like our pictures
Each click of like generating a smile
Like a directly proportional equation
Till our smiles previously fake are forced into being real
We would lie on our beds once again
Heads on pillow, edges of our lips gradually curving concavely
Smiles turned to frowns turned to tears turned to regrets
Till our eyes close, and our hearts pray they never open again

The blessings of God disappoint us and the morning sunshine wakes us up
We have come to hate our lives
The cycles of pretence eroding the sanity of our moral uprightness
But for now
We must facebook, we must tweet, we must post pictures on Instagram.
We must open our laptops
We must write one more blog post

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