Mayorblaze:
Have forgotten my email password... Can't get your pm

... When u walk,dnt walk like u r in a hurry,buh nt the snail speed,then do not shuffle your legs,create movie with your brain or remember scenes that will make you smile,vex,different scenerios.if possible get a walking partner and NOTE:DO NOT BUY SATCHET WATER nor BUBBLE gum buh u can buy ice cream those 50box type. U r good to go. #thinking,did I just type all these?#

if I no comment, I wicked, and if this story no enter FP this week, then some pepo wicked.






abeg I no call name o!!!




good work flow, still continue to flow while I follow

I earned a take home that wasn’t enough even to take me home after withdrawing the whole of it on pay day.


“Sola you don see alert?” I asked with a frown.

“I never see oh?” he frowned too.

“why Oga dey do like this na!!”

“and him go don pay Kel oh”

“him don pay her na, him don even buy her new phone”

“you mean am?” my mouth was ajar.

“yes na, if you see the phone ehn!!! The money wey him take buy that phone fit big pass our two salary” Sola informed.

“but why?”

“Kel no be worker like us?”

Kel was a worker, but like us, never!. She had rising to the position of a concubine worker. She and the Boss now had sex anywhere they wish, even in the car. I already saw her being second wife in no far a time.


“oboy!! I don broke oh, you fit borrow me money?” I asked.

“guy you know say I no get, even sef I dey owe plenty people money”




Truth be told, Sola had a masters degree in Borrow-borrowology - the study of the philosophy of borrowing.


I will never forget him losing his Laptop to a lender.

Paul borrowed him a sum of 25,000 naira to pay two weeks later, after the expiration of the two weeks, Sola was not able to pay, so Paul sneaked into our office one afternoon, and stole his Laptop.

“guy wetin you wan use Sola laptop do na?” I berged in on Paul while he did the “Theifing”.

“I wan go repair am for am” he answered confidently, like he spoke to someone who knew not of his pedigree.




Paul was the thief of the company, he could steal a Yam from a goat, a Bone from a dog, and even a’ss from Nikky Menage.


What baffled me about his stealing habit was that he never get caught by anyone else but Peter, Yes, Peter.




I never forget the day he stole Mrs Ejimmadu’s phone, right under her Nose.


Mrs Ejimmadu was in the same department as Paul the tall, fair, handsome guy; handsome that no one ever suspected him whenever anything was missing, except me.


Mrs Ejimmadu lay on her desk to take a little rest as it was break time. A little rest to Mrs Ejimmadu lasted between 1-2 hours, and her desk was her pillow. I will never forget the day the MD caught her sleeping and snoring in the Office. That day was the day I saw her cried more than her one year old baby. And that day was the day I knew fart could form an Orchestra.


She farted to and fro her office confused. That aside, she also farted at every step she took to the MD’s office to plead.


Paul acted as Mrs Ejimmadu’s Secretary in her Cubicle Office.

He waited for the right time to strike; that was when she just bought a phone worth 100k.

The right time to him indeed, but not truly the right time so to speak; as I saw how the whole incident unfolded.

What differentiated Our Office and that of Mrs Ejimmadu was a trnsparent glass frame.

That afternoon, Paul looked left and looked right, and left again and saw that nobody watched him, so he skillfully stole the phone. Sola saw him not because his desk backed that direction, and had I called Sola’s attention, he would have maybe dropped the phone or pretended he just wanted to have a look at it.



“I go tell” I told myself.

“abi make I first tell Sola” I asked myself.

“but Sola no get mind, him go put fear for my body” I assured.


Mrs Ejimmadu cried and farted like she had just lost a child, yet her phone had gone to it’s "real" owner never to return. A distinctive thing i liked about her farts was that it was always Zero combustion; no smell.

"why Paul go thief phone of him own oga?"

"where him go hide the phone sef?" I asked myself.


The company was shutdown for 1 hour while everybody was searched intoto.



“Guy if you tell anybody wetin you see, you don die” Paul whispered to me as we both sat in the same Keke side by side on our way to Orile bus stop.

“wetin you fit do?” I dared not said. Why? You would ask.


Reasons are not farfetched. Paul, I heard was the former leader of Eiye Confraternity in Shomolu axis where Amos live.


What marveled me was how such a thug as Paul got such a very white collar job. I was told the MD is his Cousin; what manner of Cousins that I had never seen them chatting for once.



Amos always gave us information on the evil skims Paul was always up to, and the evil he perpetrated too. I remember Amos telling us Paul arranged for the Daughter of a wealthy business tycoon to be r’aped just because she refused his advances.




Aside that, Paul had so many cockroaches in his wide cupboard. Cockroaches like; He was sleeping with the MD’s wife, he once r'aped his step sister, he smoked weed at work during break time in the toilet, he was a chronic m’ansturbator. e.t.c


I will never forget the day I caught him doing his thing in the Gents. The sensation carried him away that, he forgot the door was not shut. As I walked into the gents, I rolled out my b’lockus like a scroll, and as I took a look at what scrolled out, I advised myself it was high time I went for a b’lockus reduction surgery. From the corner of my eyes, I saw something that looked like a wallpaper hung on the extreme left, so I was like: “which day them paste wallpaper for this toilet”, “this company don dey upgrade oh!”, so I turned to take a look at the wallpaper.




And behold it was Paul.



It was Paul with a Vaseline container boxers down.



“Bros! good afternoon oh!” I greeted.

“Big Bros! good afternoon oh!” I greeted the “big bros” in between his leg.

“ehen! Can I help you?” He asked.

“no oh! I just dey greet you”


“I don hear your greeting, oya vamoose!!”

“ok! ooooh!!” I hurried zipped up, and as I was about rushing out, he said: “if anybody hear this thing ehen! I don roast you like suya”.

“vamoose!! Abi you wan join me?” he offered.




“I dey craze?” I ran out and collided with Bimbo who was hurrying to the Ladies.

....mehn flow eyes don see gan oh

@flow1759
today is my birthday

After office hours........


“Paul!! Paul!! I dey warn you oh, give me my money oh”


“why I go give you, shebi na you go tell people say I dey piss for bed!”

“na lie? You no dey piss for bed?”




At 32 Paul’s bed was always wet. He slept on a water bed every night; according to Amos.


We were told by Amos that Paul’s dad was a “babalawo”, and that he had exchanged his son’s ability to pee for more powers. Amos told us that Paul will continue to bed wet as far as his dad remained a member of a secret cult.






Amos also told us of how Paul made a mess of himself when he brought a P'rostitute home for sex.


According to Amos, this was what transpired : Paul brought a p’rostitute home for sex, and as big as his “thing” was, it couldn’t insert into the “wide well” of the p’rostitute, so he tried forcing it in.




“Sheowole!!” He asked.

“No oh, try harder, your thing is too big!”




Two minutes of trial and error.

“why is your thing too big? Try harder!!!”



“shoya were ni? I dey tell you say something no dey enter, you dey tell me say my thing too big”

“shey I no dey use my thing enter other girls t’oto? Ask Monica na?” Monica was the name of another p’rostitute. *She will be introduced later*



“so you no want make my thing enter abi? After I don pay you?”

“no be my fault na!!”


Paul left the p’rostitute and went to his kitchen and came back few minutes later.



“how we go do am na?” The p’rostitute asked.

“we must do am oh” He brought out his thing that appeared bigger.

“bros!! wetin you do the thing, I dey talk say your thing too big nahim make e no enter, you go make am big more”



“common lie down!!” Paul pushed her to the bed.

“bros wetin I do na, your thing no gree enter na, and I no hold your money here, e dey for our office” Their office rule was “pay before service”, how draconian.

Paul had paid for sex in advance at their corporate office. he paid for what he never bargained for; skimmed by the p'rostitute to make him look at it face to face but can't have it.


The Rule: You pay, and even if after the service is rendered you are not satisfied, you complain, there will be a refund. But if after service is rendered, and you enjoyed it, tips are highly welcomed. Wherever the pendulum bob swung to, the P’rostitutes gets 55 percent of your pay. Fair enough!!


But not fair enough for p’rostitutes like the one Paul took home that evening.




“so wetin Paul com do the girl na?” I asked the day Amos narrated the story.

“mehn!! Flow you sabi ask nonsense Question ehn!!”

“wetin be the nonsense question wey I ask now?”

“him cook soup for on top her body”

“ehen!! Which kin soup?” my brain traveled.

“na why I no dey like tell you any story” Amos said.

“me too, I no dey like hear your story, you no sabi talk story” That was the direct opposite of who Amos was; He was an excellent narrator.


“no mind Flow jor!! continue” James said tapping Amos.





“paul knack the girl sotey………………………”




“sotey the girl get k-lag” Amos narrated like he saw it happened.




“guy you go trek go house today oh, I no go give you this your transport money”





I have heard severally of office bully, I never knew I would be a victim of it.



“Paul I dey warn you oh!!”

“I dey warn you!”

“who you dey warn? na me?” He pulled my head close to the Dreaded standing Air conditioner that stood in our office; close to my desk.



I had campaigned, rioted, revolted against that A/C positioned right above my head, all to no avail.


The A/C had been my worst nightmare since I resume work.



I will never forget the day I caught seizure because of the effect of the A/C on my head.

The funny thing about that A/c was that the lowest was higher than the highest; yet the highest could freeze an Eskimo.

And if you put it off, you will sure sweat a bucket.

That day, my brain got froze that I walked and spoke like a Robot.


“Wetin do your neck na?” Sola asked as we met while I walked outside to take some fresh air to melt my froze brain.


“nothing oh, I just dey practice how to match” I stiffed by neck and swung my hands like I was in the Army matching.

“who send you to match na?”

“guy I no know?” I was blunt.


Sola and the receptionist laughed so hard at me, but “I no send them”.



As I got downstairs, I shook my head, to confirm it still contained water.


My fingers were shaking, I couldn’t grab , in fact, I just couldn’t feel my hands.


“flow you don dey die be that oh!” I told myself.






“Flow how far na! you don see Paul” Wande offered a handshake which i ignored.

“Paw Paw?” I asked.

“which Paw Paw?”

“I no say Paw paw!! I say Paul!!”


On hearing "Paul", my Liver froze and my Kidney melted.

He had promised to steal my wrist watch and I had summoned courage hiding it were it would be difficult for him to steal; I tucked it in the sucks I wore.



“guy! I no see Paul!!” I spoke.

“Flow! Why you dey sweat like this na?” Wande said.


I wasn’t sweating alone, it looked like I had peed on my p'ants as I saw that my “chieftaincy” axis was wetter than a tropical rain forest.

“you say you no see Paul? But I saw him coming towards this direction na!”

“Guy! I no fit see useless people like Paul abeg”


“ok, see am dey come”



“who be useless person?” A hand grabbed my wrist from nowhere.



That hand had my wrist watch on.

ritababe:
@flow1759
today is my birthday

Happy happy birthday




I don't want birthday cake, I want Beans and Bread (BB).

flow1759:




Happy happy birthday




I don't want birthday cake, I want Beans and Bread (BB).

ok sir

ritababe:


ok sir

How i go take get am na? Is it through courier?

flow1759:


How i go take get am na? Is it through courier?

.

On ur pinktooth

welldone Oga flow

ritababe:
.

On ur pinktooth

Happy birthday

Warlord3000:


Happy birthday

thanks

“oboy why your face dey like this na? you no well?” Sola asked one Monday morning.


“guy I no well oh!!”

“wetin dey sick you?” He asked.

“na Totenham dey sick me oh?”

“hahahahahaha!! you say the sickness wey dey sick you na Totenham sickness?”

“how na?”

“mehn you no see wetin them play yesterday?”

“I see am na, 2-0?” He answered.

“so how that one com make you sick na?”

“them go lose to West ham na!! them no suppose to lose”


“ok you put say them go win for nairabet?”

“yes na, if to say them win , I for chop 81,000 naira”



“eyah!! Sorry oh!!”


“guy I hope say you remember say na you dey lead for morning devotion today?” My sad mode made me almost forgot.

“I remember!”



I scanned through the Bible to see if I could see one or two Bible verses I would quote while praying, but all my eyes saw was Totenham-Totenham-Totenham.


Sometimes I wish gambling and drinking wasn’t sin.


“e no better for James, him no go ever win any game for him life” I cursed.


James had suggested that I played Totenham to win an away match. I never wanted to stake for that game, if I didn’t, I would had won a huge sum still; to the tune of 41,567 Naira, enough to transport me to work for One and a half month.


Our office served as the morning devotion ground because it was large and could contain as much as 23 persons, little wonder the extra-large Air conditioner. Aside that, it was chosen as the morning devotion ground because it was located at the extreme, with no other office beside it except that of Mrs. Ejimmadu.


Mrs. Ejimmadu was first to arrive.

“good morning Peter!!” Good morning.

"Good morning Ma!!!"

Then came Wale, then came Mr. Ayodele, then Musa the security man, then this, then that, then Paul.

Inasmuch as Paul was all bad, he still attended morning devotion punctually, I wondered why.





The praise started. My first song was an Igbo song, second was Yoruba, then Igbo again, then Yoruba again, then English, then Yoruba, Then Pidgin, then an Urhobo song that sounded like Portuguese.

The Worship songs were Portuguese also. I say so because I knew not what I sang.


Mrs. Ejimmadu helped me out with a brand new song from her kitty; either Jamaican or Senegalese, or a combination of both.



Praise and Worship lasted about 6 minutes of the stipulated 10 minutes devotion time.


Time for prayer. I started raising prayer points that was out of this world. Prayer points like: “Let us pray that God should make our enemies and the enemies of this company to fall and die without resurrection”, “let us pray that troubles should follow our troubles”, and to crown it all up, I raised one prayer point that was directed towards losing my bet; “Let us pray that we will never again experience loss in our lives”









“guy how far!! Na canteen you dey go?” I met Wande on my way to the canteen.

“yes, na there you sef dey go?”

“make we dey go na”


“mehn!! I no hold money oh” I knew where he was headed.

“guy! No tell me make I buy food for you oh, I no get money”

“who wan tell you make you buy food?”

“ok if you no wan tell me make I buy food for you, how you go take chop, shey you go chop free?” I was curious.


“yes na, I dey chop free steady na?” He informed.

“na lie abeg!! Shey na your mama get the canteen?”

“Peter!! Dey there dey jonz, you no go open your eye”





The last time I opened my eyes, I almost lost them both. That was when Paul sat opposite me in the canteen eating one Friday afternoon. He told me to give him my piece of meat, and of course I refused vehemently.


“how I go give you my meat? Shey na you buy the food for me?” was my response.

“you no go give me abi?”

“yes!! I no go give you!!” I eyeballed him.

“na me you dey open eye for?!”

“yes na! who you be?”

“who be me abi?”

“yes! Who you be?” I was stone hearten that afternoon.

“ok, no wahala!” I thought I had won.




He finished eating the Egusi soup and walked towards my direction with a smile.

I frowned in return.

Before Eze went to school and returned, Paul had rubbed of the Egusi soup particles in his unwashed hands on my eyes.

Instantly, I felt what it was like being a Steve Wonders.

I couldn’t scream, I couldn’t cry, I couldn't laugh too. All I could do at that moment was to “humble myself”, and I did that perfectly because the "three beauties" of Customer relation Department were eating in the table right behind me.


“Flow!! wash your hand, use the hand clean your eyes” I imagined my hand as a healing hand.


I did what my spirit lead me to; washed my hands in the watery Ogbono soup, and to my eyes it went. That made me looked more like Peter Cech the Chelsea goalkeeper with the mask; i mean the Ogbono soup on my face.



It was the same three beauties that I thought were laughing at me that led me to the washing hand basin were I regained my sight, although i heard one of them laughed. Thank God the number of people present at the canteen that afternoon when I got blind was just 4; the ladies and me.


Paul had disappeared into thin air.


“guy open your eye oh!”

“how na?”

“see, shebi you know say na after them don serve you food nahim them go say make you pay?”

“ehen!”

“so, when you collect your food, you go do like say you put your hand for your pocket, when them don dey serve the next person, you go waka go your seat go sidon dey chop”


“ehen!! You sure say them no go notice say you never pay?”

“you don forget say the person wey dey serve food, no be the same person wey dey collect money?” That was true.

“I don even collect change for money wey I no pay, I collect 200 naira because I tell them say I don give them 500 naira, them no know” He narrated.


“guy!! You be bad guy!!”

“naso na, I be sharp guy!” Sharp indeed, I wished I was sharper.









“so you wan try am?” he asked.



“yes na!!”

“correct!! I go give you scope wey you go use” He offered.

“thank you my man!”









Little did I know………………………………………………………

@ ahmeen havent seen your mail.my email got issues
@ flow....staying glued for the nxt update.i lv d flavour of this episode

Flow Flow as ur Name b, u no come kill ur self. But all i can say is u gud men. Love the story just keep it ip bro.

I done laugh out my fallopian tube,thumb up flow.

I became an addict to eating and not paying, mastering the art with time.



“oboy make we go do - chop no pay na?” Wande walked into my office during break.


“mehn!! I get money for today own, I go pay” I informed him of my intention.

“Pero!! Why na? you wey don be master for this thing” I had indeed mastered the art, even more than my coach Wande.




What happened the first day I tried “chop no pay” was this:

“Sir you haven’t given me money” The lady that collected money from customers said.

“I don die!!! She don catch me!!” I concluded.

“who me?” I turned.

“no, not you, you!!” She was referring to Wande who was already seated eating.

“me?” Wande asked.

“yes you!!” she answered.


Funny enough, Wande had told me before we entered the canteen that he had no money on him accept 100 naira that was his transport fare back home. How risky.



“me?” He stood up with his hand on his chest.

“no, not you…….. you” Wande was eased.


“I know, I told you i wanted to drop the food on the table in other for me to easily remove my wallet” Said Mr. Ayodele the wife beater.




Mr. Ayodele’s father was a boxer, his father’s father was also a boxer, yet he rejected boxing for a white colar job. I was told his punches were heavier than a sack of cement and harder than rock; Paul’s jaw can attest to that.






I will never forget the day Mr. Ayodele and Paul fought after office hours outside the company’s compound.



Paul had warned Mr. Ayodele severally to desist from parking his car in his usually parking space, but he refused.



“abi I don warn you say make you no dey park this your jaga jaga motor for here!!” Paul waited till it was almost dark and everyone had gone home, accept I and Sola who stayed behind parking large parcels to be delivered the next day.

“you call my car jaga jaga!” Mr Ayodele was ready for a fight.


Fighting was highly prohibited during working hours, little wonder Paul always kept all his fights till the close of work.


“yes! No be jaga jaga e be before?”



Jaga jaga had got no best description other than Paul’s Volkwagen Golf car. I think Eedris Adulkareem saw Paul’s car before he sang “Nigeria Jaga Jaga”. The body had several unwarranted tattoos; rougher than dread locks. The exhaust was 98% combustion, mangled front screen, one sided tyres, and above all, noise making engine.


“empty vessel makes the loudest noise” they say, Paul’s car was indeed an empty vessel; it’s seats were made of rock, it’s roof was made of partly plastic and partly zinc, and it’s Engine, oh! Let’s leave that for another day.


I will never forget the day Paul offered me a ride to Orile bus stop; that was when we were still friends. We were only a stone throw to Orile when the car broke down with about fourteen farts and about forty five jerks.






“Peter go push am?” I saw that coming.


“guy I never chop oh, I no get strength oh?” Of a truth, I was really really hungry.

“Guy e no go take much time, e go start” He said.


Much time it took, I pushed and pushed, and my shoe sole cried.




“guy e never start?”

“still push, e go soon start” He beckoned.

I kept pushing until my eyes spun. I indeed saw that the Earth was spherical, as everything I saw was circular.


“guy still push na!!”

“oboy e be like say you go come push make I drive oh, I don dey see double” I confessed.

“push something jor, you be woman!!”




I kept pushing and panting, until traffic on that road germinated and grew.



“Oga carry this your yeye motor comot for raod jor!!”


“go buy another motor!!”

“abeg carry this your rubbish motor make other motor wey make sense pass jor!!” were the rain of abuses that commercial bus drivers, conductors, and even commuters poured on us.


I was still pushing when all of sudden a bike from nowhere rode towards my direction on top speed.

Maybe it honked but I didn’t hear because as my eyes spun, if affected my ears too.

I noticed the bike rode very very close to my right leg, but that was all. That wasn’t all rather, I also noticed I heard a “praaaaaaaaaaa!!” sound like someone farted, so I concluded I had fart because I tried gathering momentum to push harder, that was all I noticed, or so I thought.


“Oga!! that okada man don tear your trouser!” I had someone said.

“that person na m’umu oh, how okada go tear person trouser?” I cursed within me.


“Oga wey dey push motor!!”

“Oga wey dey push motor? Your trouser don tear” The conductor of the bus that was beside me tapped me.


“who? Me?” I asked.

“no!! Mimi noodles!!” he answered.

On hearing Mimi Noodles, I took a quick flash back to the previous night that saw me throwing up because I wanted to try something new; Noodles, Kuli Kuli and Water melon all together.


“who be mimi?”


“odeh!! Your trousers don tear, you no dey see am?”




I looked at my trousers and what I saw was “shabbah”


When we were kids, Shabbah was what we called a skirt that had a very exposing side parting. So we adopted it for torn trousers too.




That day I became the younger brother of Shabah Ranks the Musician, with a name Sabah Flow.


“Paul!!!! Shebi you don see wetin your rubbish motor don cause?” I cried with a loud voice and commuters and the buses around laughed like I was some comedian.






“pooooh!!! gbeeeeem!!” Paul’s jaw saw a punch, then two, but before he received the third one, he sent back a harder than rock punch to the sender.









The sender was.....................................











Mr Ayodele, not Peter

IHate9ja1:
@ ahmeen havent seen your mail.my email got issues
@ flow....staying glued for the nxt update.i lv d flavour of this episode

Thank you. i love the fact that you are my fan.

Mate77:
Flow Flow as ur Name b, u no come kill ur self. But all i can say is u gud men. Love the story just keep it ip bro.

thanks, God bless

Bunsky:
I done laugh out my fallopian tube,thumb up flow.

You mean am?"

flow1759:


Thank you. i love the fact that you are my fan.

.....just came out of my shell
I ve been your fan for a lonnnng tym!

IHate9ja1:

.....just came out of my shell
I ve been your fan for a lonnnng tym!

Do you really hate naija?

flow1759:



Do you really hate naija?

Lol.....yes and no

flow1759:


You mean am?"

Seriously

My oga ride on.....everyone in my office is luking at the madman.....laughing out his ribs context of yhu

Xp01:
My oga ride on.....everyone in my office is luking at the madman.....laughing out his ribs context of yhu

No laugh go slap your MD oh.

1st of August 2014.




I woke up stepping on my hat; it was a Friday and in Lagos what you often hear is “thank God it's Friday!!”


My usual time to wake up was 4:30am, what followed afterwards was 30:30.


I sometime called the routine “4:30 - 30:30”.


The routine was: My ever loud alarm wakes me by 4:30, studying the Bible or/and any other book for 30 minutes with prayer inclusive in the 30 minute, then exercise and drinking hot Tea took the rest 30 minutes.



Then by 5:50, I am of to dine with my friend Lagos.


Life in Lagos!!







Life in Lagos Nigeria was far worse than life in the “warrest” of zones. In fact the dictionary meaning of Lagos is War.


It is only in Lagos that you earn 30,000 naira a month, yet you spend 25,000 on transportation.


It is only in Lagos that you Wake up by 40:00am in the morning and get to work by past 8.


It is only in Lagos that you Leave home hungry, but once you get to the bus stop, your hunger vanishes.


It is only in Lagos that you see people practice the One-Zero-One system of feeding. I sometimes practiced Zero-half-zero when my liver failed me to go perform “chop no pay”.


It is only in Lagos that everyone in the bus stop on a Monday morning have same look; butt faced look.


It is only in Lagos that Commercial buses never stops but slow down a bit for passengers to jump in.


It is only in Lagos that Pick pocket was a profession registered with the Corporate affairs commission.


It is only in Lagos that Gala sells more than anywhere else.


It is only in Lagos that Touts wears uniforms that looked like they are in the Military.


It is only in Lagos that traffic is always longer than River Nile.


It is only in Lagos that one could eat Lunch and Dinner in traffic.


It is only in Lagos that no commercial bus could complete a journey without a fart or two from one or two of the passengers in it.


It is only in Lagos that you put on a white shirt to work and you a crowned the neatest man on earth if you return home without stains.


It is only in Lagos that Beans and bread can be seen as Sausage.


It is only in Lagos that Forty nine seating and ninety nine standing.


It is only in Lagos that Seven Bachelors lives in a “Face me - I face you” apartment with half a toilet for Fourteen rooms, and the fourteen rooms sharing one kitchen.



It is only in Lagos that Bridges are useless.


It is only in Lagos that “Alomo” is a none alcoholic drink.



It is only in Lagos that trekking is a skill that can be acquired by a two years old.


It is only in Lagos that some workers sleep in their place of work just to cut transportation cost of their salaries.












The day I tried that, I regretted it.



Transportation cost was high due to predictions that there would soon be Fuel scarcity and some filling stations hoarded PMS. The money with me that day wasn’t enough to even take me half way home.




Some car owners like Paul offered a ride but for a price; How heartless!!


“guy make we kuku sleep for here na?” Sola advised in other for me to join the bandwagon.



The bandwagon of those that slept in the company’s compound with the security men include in no particular other: Wande who stayed in Badagry close to Seme border, Abu who stayed in Tejuosho, Kareem who stayed in Ogun state, and of course their Chairman Sola who stayed in Satellite town that wasn’t too far from where he worked.


Satellite town was just a 150 naira from our Office, yet Sola preferred passing almost every night at work.


He bought a pillow and a blanket for his comfort, and bought half bag of Garri every week for his stomach sake, and that of his friends too.


The half Bag of Garri wasn’t meant to fulfill the Eba desires of all of them, it was meant to fulfill their “otoh” desires.


Otoh means soaked Garri for “waking”, and I don’t know what language it originated from.

But “waking” is pure Pidgin.




And the award for the World best Garri “waker” goes to no other than………………………………………………………….......




Sola.





Sola could “wak” Garri more than all his friends put together, he could finish Nineteen cups of Garri at a go, that is if it contained two sacks of Groundnut and fourteen pieces of Garlic. And I am not exaggerating.



What baffled me about his Garri habit was the fact that he wasn’t ashamed of taking Garri and Ground nut in the office.



“come join me Peter!” He offered that Night as we sat gisting waiting for darkness to fall.

“thank you!! I no dey hungry” Even if I was, I would never take such intercontinental dish outside my home; it disgusts.





Intercontinental dish it was indeed to Sola, as a smile was always on his face whenever he ate it.



***Question for the day: Is Garri drank or Eaten?***






“how we go position oursef sleep na?” I was feeling sleepy.

Sola Postulated a sleeping formula that could contain us. His formula stated that my face would either be directed to the a'ss of Musa the security man or his own a'ss. I chose Musa's, because i was sure of what Garlic could do to the mouth and to the a'ss.



In the average sized security house that night was in no particular other: Peter, Sola, Abu, Wande, Akindele, Musa the security man on Duty, Akeem and Mr. Ayodele a young guy like us that preferred we added the title “Mr.” to his name, which was indeed a mouthful.






Snoring was an orchestra that killed my sleep, while darkness spun my eyes.






Those were the least of my problems.








My numero uno problem that night was Mosquitoe.





Permit me to say this………………………………………………….













It is only in Lagos that Mosquitoes have claws.

Whatever happened to front page?

Garri is to drink while eba is to eat

I can only say thank you for dis beautiful piece.
Keep flowing!!!

.......feeling the nigga ehhhh
Write am for me ehhhh *in dbanj's voice*
I gbadun u flow,keep d flag flying
Lv u