Here is a write-up that would make you laugh and break ur ribs except you are an Agelast.

Kindly drop ur comments and observations- You can never tell how encouraging they may be.

Thanks.

Prologue:-

Just like a dream he found himself in a world with more worries than normal, A city that is remotely distanced from nature or whatever it has to offer. A place where luck and favour never meet the averagers. Hardwork does not bring success here. However, man must wack or he rottens like buried carcasses. No matter what, JEBUTU must make it now that he has reached the city, either by hook or by crook. He must brace up like a city guy and put off all kinds of village menatlity, traits or accessories. Read how Jebutu, a registered village boy made it in a big, "mind-ur-own business" city.


Story begins,

On the table were: palm-oil, sugar, salt and sugarcane. A new son had just been born into the the family of Mr Burukutu.

"His names are" an elderly man sounded " Jeremiah, Momodu the son of Burukutu" the anouncement was followed by a loud hysterical screaming, as if something abysmal had happened. Immediately after the announcement, the NEPA had brought the light after 30 days blackout. Attention shifted from the boy to the TV set. Everybody began to watch the black and white gadget as if that was what naming the child meant. The elderly man felt embarrased and voiced angrily " Are you all insane? We are naming a child here and you all ignore him? An innocent child ehhn?". No one was interested in whatever he had to say. "Now I know what to do" he stopped. No one looked at him let alone answer him. They were busy with whatever they were watching on the blurred TV set. " Are you all mad?" he screamed at the top of his voice. He was a man in his seventies. He had managed to stand up with the last atom of strength in him to name the child. He was Jebutu's grandfather. He could feel the pain in his waist now. He would have loved to go and switch off the TV, but how could he? He was helped up. On his left hand was the little boy and on the right was the stick on which his life depended upon. He rested heavily on the stick. He was suffering from stroke, all his limbs were totally stiff. He stood there, looking straightly into space, He could not do anything, not even sit this time around. He just stood there like a tree. He decided to plead so that they might help his buttocks land on his mahogany chair. " Please, take this baby from me and help me to sit" he pleaded. Either they didn't hear or they pretended not to- one would be true. " Oh, I've never suffered like this all my life" he groaned in pain " Oh my, my, my, God why has thou forsaken me? I said please, LET ME SEAT" he screamed as if somebody was holding him from sitting. He remembered he had been lifted from a chair by his son who was almost entering inside the TV which was just a week old. He decided to fall on his sit anyhow. The pain had become unbearable. He went down and down and down, still looking upward. His brain had told him, his buttocks would land on a chair. WHAT A DECEIT!

"Oh Oh Oh" he screamed as he fell backwards, he rolled over his head and fell backward after rolling over Five times he met the wall. The baby had fallen off his hands. The boy flung to the right like a piece of trash about to be thrown into the garbage bin, flung out of the window and reported on the veranda outside. The stick on his right hand left his hand after the fifth rolling, it went with a supersonic speed and hit Mr Jebutu on the back of his head as he sat with all his attention on the TV. "Heeeeeiiiiiiyyyyyy" he screamed. He turned immediately.
And saw his father "sleeping" on the floor. That was good but where was the baby? He and the other 2 children as well as their mother zoomed towards papa.

As Burukutu moved nearer, he discovered his father's eyes were wide opened. As he bent to raise baba up, their was a thud in his trouser. His throuser had rended, exposing his ass which was darker than any black Maria could be.
As if that was not enough, his aged father lifted up his only unaffected body part- the right leg and kicked his balls as if that was what Nigeria needed to win the world cup. He shouted and bounced like a ball round and round. Burukutu's hand quickly, unconciously went to his scrotum. He was surprised when his hand met his bare body. So he had been naked? He left his father on the ground and wondered where the little, eight-day old chlid could be. They went outside and saw him on the bed that was spread on the veranda for the sun to dry. That was the greatest surprise of their lives. Jebutu was either going to be another great prophet or the next Osama-bin-laden.Everybody had thought.
This was how Jebutu was named.

He would later ask his friends to call him JEBUTU- which would make everybody forget that his real name was JEREMIAH.

# stay tuned for more updates #

Pls let the flood of comments flow.

timpaker:
***following***

Thanks chairman. Your welcome.

Interesting