Nike where have u been?I have missed u alot.

mhm..wesley

Latoya, i hav been around..living..i missed ya..where hav u been

what?

WesleyanA:

yeah. not if he looks in the journal section.

there is a tendency he still wont recognize me i swear

hahahahaha. how would you know? what if he did and pretended not to.

impossicant

i guess i'll have to play the guessing game
is his name kevin? kunle?

nope

kalejaiye? wait, is it a nigerian name?

it is good to know ppl like you whoreside outside the country can participate in things like this can we be friends

what do you mean by whoreside? i'm sure you meant something else.

welcome by the ways

woah woah..wats whoreside..

wesley..its not nigerian name

kenneth (ken), kingsley, kevin,

nah..i send u a pm

now that the mystery is solved, where's caxton? he needs to explain something.

offline

God u guys. 2+2= get a clue.

he meant who're outside.

wats the KK name?

Nike??

hey Queenie..where hav u been..missed ya

Missed you too gurl, was preparing for the carnival i told you about.

how is it..gud bad?

loll, very good, had enough fun,

i wanna dance too.. *dances and shakes booty*..can i join?

ha ha, _{gbaye laro}, the carnival is over, nywayz you can dance urz @ home

why are u crying? 
ok, when i get the pics i will send it to you.
because i was over excited yesterday, so i forgot to take my camera, n i never took my phone there, i would have send it through my phone, but nywayz i wish they give us the pics so i can scan n send it to you.

hey guyz
check this one out..its my first draft..what u think..?

---

HIGH SCHOOL HELL.

“Welcome to hell kid.” were the first few words I was welcomed with to my to-be high school. I looked bewildered, confused, upset, and angry and of all down hearted. Maybe all the sagas I heard outside school were true. My first fears about high school were being finally revealed. Pain, suffering, Humiliation and frustrations would fill the first years hearts and minds. My parents departed after a few minutes and were left alone in this vast, cold unfriendly place. I dragged my heavy suitcase towards the high towered dormitory. Before entering I came face to face with one gigantic man, half dressed, scary looking with blood shot eyes, big muscles and a plate on one hand.

“Mono, go to the kitchen and bring me food,” he said gruffly with a great look of loathing on his face. I was astonished and bewildered. Now what did I do? I hurried to the only building with thick dark smoke coming from the top. After encountering few rough shoves, poking, pushes and name calling, I at last managed to get to the counter to be served. The cook eyeing me like a prize, seeing my short trousers he gave me a half potion. Because we were from home so we weren’t hungry. Trying as fast as possible to hurry to the dormitory, I was called by another 4th year.

“Come here b4 I make u regret the day u were born” oh my god! Why are people this foul? I muttered irritably in an undertone. “Where do u think u are going to u maggot? You think this is your mama’s home, u slimy self conceited nincompoop?” flowed from the bully’s mouth.
“No” I said as politely as I could.
“Good, when we are done with prep at 10:00 pm. come to my cubicle you nitwit. I am going to show u never to talk to me while looking me on the face.” He shoved me off roughly making me spill some food. Right now, my mind was in turmoil, I didn’t know where to get the first hoodlum, my suitcase was at I don’t know who’s hand and I was running late for my first years meeting.

Zooming in the dormitory like a bat from hell, I did a double-quick march to the place I met the first guy, but to my dismay as you can imagine, he wasn’t there, and neither was my suitcase. Sighing exasperatedly, I darted my eyes here and there trying to locate the hideous looking bloke but he was nowhere to be seen. I did something only a stupid person like me could do, knock on the nearest cubicle. The door was roughly jerked open and two beady eyes were staring down at me.
”Yes scrub? Did u come to clean my cubicle?”
”No sir, I am looking for a certain guy. Very tall…” I started stammering and heart pounding like a hammer hitting a nail.

The door opened wider and with relief I was the guy I was looking for. My relief didn’t last long because with ominous voice, he told me to step in the cubicle. Mind you, I was terrified. I was shaking like a leaf caught on a draught. My knees felt wobbly because I felt like I was confronting Satan himself. My throat was parched and icy trickles were snaking their way down my spine and my armpits.

“Form 1!”’ he suddenly yelled “ I have been making sandwiches for the past half an hour. And who do u think u r to go take forever to run a small errand like that? There is no time for you to go give yourself a treat! When an elder sends u, u run! No bickering on your way!”
By this time he had stood up and he was shouting so loud that he was spitting. A thin line of perspiration was standing on his forehead and his blood shot eyes were bulging out of their sockets. I was rooted to the spot wishing the ground could swallow me. Or the ceiling to cave in, but if wishes were horsed beggars would ride on them. Nevertheless despite my warm wishful thinking and hoping and praying, everything stayed intact.

“Now for a corporal punishment. I am the plaintiff, the prosecutor, and the executioner.” He said decisional as if he was deriving intense satisfaction.
“Drop down and give me fifty.”
I dropped on my knees and rummaged in my pockets thinking.” I know he wants me to do press ups and I am cool with that, but what if I give him 50 shillings like a bribe? Maybe he will let me go, and I would have killed 2 birds with 1 stone as escape punishment and maybe be his friend!”

With those thoughts I came up with a 50 shillings bill and forcing a smile on my wooden face, I extended it to him. All room went dark 4 a minute as I felt a slap on my left cheek with a savage voice in the background saying “ Kid got money, think he’ll impress us. Maybe we’ll squeeze some from him later”
Big mistake. I had attracted trouble and it was going to bite me hard.
“Do your fifty kid and get done with. You are boring me stiff,” he said tiredly.
With enthusiasm I went down on my fists and started doing the “punishment” while silently chuckling. Yeah-big deal, I have done a 50 earlier on so it’s no biggie. I forgot that never underestimate a person. I was on 10 when he abruptly said maliciously “ start whistling”

I paused in mid-air and eyed him questionably
“Start whistling stupid before I knock your incisors out” he said with a broad, evil grin plastered on his beefy face. I detested him so much!
I started whistling a native song. Now if u don’t know this, whistling while doing press-ups is one tedious task. By mid 30’s I was huffing and puffing. Sweat was making small rivers down from all over my school uniform. My head felt dizzy and my hands felt numb, eyes streaming with tears of frustration and hate. I was determined not to give up and with pain finished the last of the press-ups. I slumped down, my whole body aching badly.

“Now take your suit case and get lost. Be back here in the morning.” He muttered quietly and went out.

it's a cool narrative essay. the dialogues, parallel structure and sensory images makes it even better. you're going to get an A no doubt.

thats not what Mr Brown thinks 

why doesnt mr brown think that?

I am loving lagbaja's "Gra gra"

wth is Mr. Brown? your english teacher? i'm about to come over to the Uk right now to straighten him out for you. you're getting an A on that essay!