"Take your time, I'm not in a rush", he said with a calm voice. He wasn't actually smiling but he wasn't frowning either. My hands kept trembling for no good reason, my palms kept sweating and I couldn't finish the simple task I was given. What was this task? This task was to simply write down my number on a piece of paper. 'Shikena'! Just that!! And I almost urinated on myself.

I had gone for a music concert of which I don't understand how I was invited to it. I remember dressing myself up and looking dapper. I knew the concert was on the said day so I was prepared for it. I didn't know what to expect but something in me kept telling me to go. I wore my favourite blue jeans, a sparkling with T-shirt and the Kenneth Cole Unlisted Boots Dess bought for me from America. It was a cold night so I also wore my black leather jacket I bought from one Okrika store at Ogbete market two years ago.

I came unto the coal tarred road that evening and was stealing looks left, right and centre. I felt proud of myself. I flagged down a cab and it came to a halt. I entered. I kept looking at myself and asking, "Bia Duke, you sure say you get sense like this? Why you no enter keke?". I didn't understand why I entered the cab or was it the Lord's way of telling me that I would hammer? Speak to me Lord. Your servant is listening.

I got to the 'parry' and it was looking rather gloomy for a music concert. A concert by Flavour? Why is it Gloomy? - It turned out that the Master Of Ceremony had some engagements and he could not meet up with the show. "Na small thing nah, dem go find another person put there", I thought to myself as I went to have my seat to enjoy the show.

20 minutes after coming in, there was still no replacement. Then the organisers came in and threw out a question, "MC FOR HIRE, WHO'S INTERESTED?". Everyone seated was forming posh, including me, and refused to talk. Until one lady pointed at me, "Bros, you go and do it". I turned and rolled my eyes at her like which kind wahala be this one this one for this cold evening. Trouble dey sleep, this ogbanje wan wake am. "Are you not Duke, that Facebook guy? Shebi you can talk on Facebook, come and talk here too", she insisted while still pointing at me.

I gave in, took the Microphone and delivered. There was really no dull moment. It was surprising because I never made an attempt to make a joke but everyone kept laughing. I enjoyed myself until the concert ended. I was about taking my leave when one very beautiful young lady told me that I have been called back stage by FLAVOUR.

Jisos! God!! Lord!!! My knees went weak. "Flavour dey call me", I said to myself as I managed to compose myself. I have never been a starstruck person. I could see a huge celebrity and the highest I can let out might be a smile but this case was different. Was it because it was Flavour Na'bania? Or because his songs about breasts and the other side appealed to my ears? Well, let me find out.

I went backstage and met with him. He was an exceptional person. He was calm, funny and a very good listener. I see why girls flock around like sheep around him. He personally thanked me for my delivery to show and added that he was surprised that I didn't request to be paid. That was what made him call me to know what I am made of. When I told him I was from Anambara too, his face lit up and he was like "Nwannem deputalu'm number gi ka ina eme MC na shows anyi" meaning "Bro, write down your number for me so that you would perform as an MC in our shows".

The Lord of excessive hammer has made me hammer! Flavour wants my number! and then the hand trembling started. I was given a pen and a piece of paper but I couldn't finish writing my number. I would either make one mistake or the other. Kai! all weapons fashioned against my "Blow and Hammer" this year shall never prosper. Say Amen!. Flavour was patient, he waited for over 20 minutes and I just couldn't get my number right. I kept pleading in my heart for my uncles and aunts in the village to release my destiny so that I can just pen down a simple phone number and my hammering can start. Bikozie nu.

His attention was suddenly called and he had to answer to it. I kept watching him as he walked away with his PA and I haven't given him my number. "Na so my opportunity take go?", I quizzed myself. Because these things, you just have to do them 'as e dey hot'. He was eventually out of sight and my hopes were totally lost.

I resorted to walk out of the backstage when I heard my name being called again by the beautiful young lady who was his PA. "He said you should punch your number into this phone", she said. At the speed of light, I did that and I watched her hurry back to meet him wherever he was.

I kept watching her, and that, kept replaying in my head till I woke up. I cleaned my eyes and packed the plates I used to eat Beans and Garri just before I slept.

While washing the plates, I warned myself seriously, "NO EVER TRY AM MAKE YOU CHOP BEANS AND GARRI COME SLEEP FOR MONDAY AFTERNOON, IDIOT".

So beans and garri can make u hallucinate

Brown14:


So beans and garri can make u hallucinate

My brother o