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Stats: 2,382,509 members, 5,315,578 topics. Date: Friday, 13 December 2019 at 01:10 PM
|Re: Brother Wale by Osman1996(m): 1:57pm On Dec 02, 2015|
I just vote back making it 140 votes still I follow u make una no crack man ribs
|Re: Brother Wale by flow1759: 2:18pm On Dec 02, 2015|
You be correct! Thanks for voting! Pls tell your friends.
|Re: Brother Wale by ERF: 3:42pm On Dec 02, 2015|
I made the VOTES 141...
Ride on oo... Always following!
|Re: Brother Wale by flow1759: 5:02pm On Dec 02, 2015|
Anifowoshe a community close to Badagry is not the conventional close-to-city community you know. The community has it all; all professions, all kinds of characters. There was some that said their calling was to smoke weed morning-afternoon-night; Brother Wale was part of such people.
He joined them since he couldn’t beat them. Mehn! I missed the old Brother Wale. The old brother Wale was dogged and had a lot of gusto; he would wake up as early as 6am and set for a quest; that quest was to look for a job. He had wanted to work in Television house as a newscaster so his destination point everyday was television and radio houses to submit his CV.
And at the end of the day friendly lights will guide him home after he had stopped over at the bar to drink a bottle or two of the legendary 1759. Then he comes home complaining how graduate-unfriendly Nigeria was; wishing he was the president of the nation.
Well the Brother Wale then could be the president of the world I can affirm, as for the Brother Wale after he met Igboh Kwenu the dealer of weed, he could be the president of only one nation – Igboh nation.
The frustration of not getting a job as a third class graduate made Brother Wale changed from being in the nation of born again christians to being in the nation of weed smokers.
Brother Wale was the choir master in church not because Baami was the pastor but because he loved his maker so much. He was the one that would spank me in the presence of my friends for coming late to church. He was the one that told me to stop hanging out with Debo because he was a gambler and that gamblers are thieves. The same Brother Wale was later a gambler extraordinaire and a maestro in smoking. The street knew his reputation and pedigree.
As I walked down our street towards kpomoh junction where our house was located whistling with pot on my head and bucket containing bean cakes that was left unsold, I heard, “hey you stop there!”
I stopped abruptly and turned to see two police officers doing their job at kpomoh junction.
“Yes you! Come over here!”
“God! I don die today!” Bearing in mind that the parcel Brother Emeka gave to me was in my back pocket.
“Wetin you carry?”
I thought I heard “Garri” in place of “carry”, so I answered saying; “Garri! I no carry Garri oh, na Akara! Na me be SB, Mama Wale pekin! Na we dey sale Akara for junction”
“Common come here!” I saw Officer Tunde our regular customer.
“Seyi Bobo! So naso you go take land for prison for Igboh wey no be your own?” Someone whispered to my ears.
“Sergent! Search him!” Officer Tunde thundered, “na una dey go rob people for their house for night!”
“Bros you no know me? I no be thief oh!” I cried out.
“Shut up! Sergeant! Search him!”
I looked at the deserted street for the last time before I go to jail and tears rolled down my eyes.
“ahaaaan! Why you dey cry na!” The sergeant had finished searching my front pocket, he headed for the back pocket where the weed was.
“What greater love than this, for a man to die for his friends!” That scripture was beginning to make sense at that moment. I was going to jail and I might die there for my brother.
“Oooh Brother Wale!” I cried.
“wetin be this thing!” The sergeant brought out the weed.
“nothing sir!” I answered.
“sir! I think this is Indian head!” The sergeant said.
“Me! Indian head! I am not a ritualist!” I cried out.
“My friend will you shut up!” The sergeant was having a field day tapping my head, “sir this boy carry Indian head! Igboh!”
“Sergeant Edward! How many times will I tell you that it is called Indian hemp and not Indian head?”
“So you carried this Indian hemp with you! Will you lie down!” Officer Tunde cracked his gun like I was a highway robber.
Lying down I felt river flowed from the stick in between my legs. I think I was having a genetic disorder; my d’ick rises to full attention whenever I was under pressure or depressed.
As Officer Tunde stamped his foot on my head I made more water flowed.
“Seyi Bobo see as you dey p’iss for body because of ordinary Police” An evil spirit was speaking to me.
“Why must I always go through hell for brother Wale? Why?” I cried.
“Sergeant open it lets see the type of igboh in it, the type of igboh in it will determine how many years he will spend in prison” Officer Tunde said.
“Make e no be Shita Igboh oh!” I prayed, because I had overheard Brother Wale said Shita weed was the most dangerous from this part of the world. Shita weed was responsible for his close-to-madness experience - I mean the generator experience.
“which kin Igboh be this?” I heard sergeant Edward said after opening the envelope.
“Bring it here!” said Officer Tunde.
Few minutes of silence and I was already seeing myself in KiriKiri Maximum prison serving my term.
“no be Igboh be this na!” I heard Officer Tunde said.
“na C’ocaine, the one wey get leaf!” Our Sergeant Edward said.
“shut up my friend! No dey talk wetin you no know, this na Moringa leaf, the one wey don dry”
“which one be Moringa leaf again na?” I asked myself.
I already saw bullets drilled through my chest for carrying Moringa leaf a more dangerous and prohibited drug than Indian hemp and C’ocaine.
“Young man, stand up!” Officer Tunde commanded.
I closed my eyes, said my last prayer and positioned appropriately to receive the bullets and enter hell.
“Who have this” He walked close to me.
“its for my…………… my……………………… elder brother!” I stammered.
“your elder brother!”
“yes, his name is Wale………………………… Wale Ajibade” I added.
“I like it! I take it too! Can I have it?” He said.
“have it! Yes sir you can have it!” I was glad I wasn’t going to jail.
“it is a very healthy leaf!” Officer Tunde said.
“you can have it sir! I will buy another one for my brother!”
“oooh! You know where they sell it?” He inquired.
“Yes I did!” I killed English.
“ok! You will give me your phone number; I will call you when I need more!”
“okay sir!” I had just bought a phone two weeks ago; inherited I mean; I had just inherited Brother Wale’s “kpalasa” phone.
“And why your trouser wet? You p’iss for body?” The sergeant beamed his light on my trouser.
“no oh! Na sweat! Naso we dey sweat for our family”
And they both laughed………………
“you no go leave this Akara for us?” Sergeant Edward long throated.
“I will of course”
As I entered the house I met with Brother Wale who was munching Yam in the sitting room.
“Did Emeka give you anything to bring home?”
|Re: Brother Wale by flow1759: 5:05pm On Dec 02, 2015|
Thank you brother!
|Re: Brother Wale by englishmart(m): 6:42pm On Dec 02, 2015|
WHIZKIDEFE:guy, I no fit access your message. You can email me on firstname.lastname@example.org if you don't mind
|Re: Brother Wale by WHIZKIDEFE(m): 7:10pm On Dec 02, 2015|
englishmart:Ok. nothing do you.
|Re: Brother Wale by girlhaley(f): 4:04am On Dec 03, 2015|
This sb na bad pikin
Na so u dey sweat for your family
God go forgive you
|Re: Brother Wale by girlhaley(f): 4:04am On Dec 03, 2015|
This sb na bad pikin
Na so u dey sweat for your family
God go forgive you
|Re: Brother Wale by Osman1996(m): 2:05pm On Dec 03, 2015|
lol make person. no piss thank God I don eat b4 reading Na sweat of piss
|Re: Brother Wale by flow1759: 3:31pm On Dec 03, 2015|
“Me?” I answered.
“no me! My friend where is the thing he gave you to keep for me?” He coughed.
"coho! coooh! sorry for yourself! where is it?"
"I put it in my pocket, lemme bring it” I searched my back pocket.
“ahaan! Its not here oh! But I put it here na!” I took lollipop form my goody bag of lies.
“then where is it?”
“I no know oh! E be like say my pocket dey leak oh!”
Imagine hot yam struck your left eye and a stainless plate fired to the back of your head; that’s not all, imagine palm oil poured on your face entering you eyes. That was what happened to me that night.
When I woke up the next morning I saw my eyes was a palm oil mine; red in colour.
“I want us to be playing music here” Brother told me as we set the fire to start work one evening.
“I mean I want us to play music to entertain our customers”
“okay! That means we will need to hire a generator every night”
“Don’t worry about that I have a generator already, I bought it from Luku”
“Okay Brother, since you have bought a generator already and we have a sound system in the house, we can play music for our customers then” I was glad.
I was glad I will have the medium to display to my customers my dancing skills.
“Bring Akara two hundred naira for me!” Red Loaf Yellow’s elder brother ordered.
“Oga Red the Akara still dey fire, wait small!” I said.
“You dey mad there! How many times I go tell you people say my name no be Red, my name na Rad loaf”
Red, Red loaf, are there not the same? As far as there is a red in it.
Red loaf is a guy red in complexion; an upcoming musician, and he is as skinny as dried fish. I think the Onis had colour deformity in their gene. The first son is red in complexion, the second son is Yellow in complexion and their only daughter is somewhat green in complexion. As for their mother and father? Fogerit mehn! Their Dad is greenish blue while their Mum is “pure” yellow – an albino.
“How dare you call my brother mad!” Brother Wale stood for a fight.
Brother Wale had always hated Red loaf since he promised to make Christy a music star in the process tried r’aping her; he had since then always longed to pick a fight with him and “beat the hell out of him”, his words.
“Is he not mad? Don’t he look mad? In fact all your family members are mad!” Red loaf cursed.
“you are a big f’ool!” Brother Wale pushed Red loaf and he was on guard bouncing for a fight.
“you wan fight me?” Red loaf swayed.
“Brother Wale leave him! Don’t fight him!” I said
“he will beat you Brother Wale” I nearly said.
“baaaam!” A very "ripe" punch landed on Brother Wale’s left eye. One-zero.
“I dodge am!” Brother Wale gave the air a punch. Over the bar.
“baaam baaam!” On quick successions, two heavy punches land on Brother Wale’s both eyes. Three-zero.
“my eye ooh!” I helped my brother cried.
“wetin give Brother Wale mind? See the kin blow wey Red loaf blow him mouth and him no cry!” I said to myself.
Then yet another hot punch to my brother’s nose and I saw him staggered like Klint the drunk.
“you no go help am? Until them go kill your brother!” I heard from my left ear.
Next Brother Wale grabbed Red loaf and……………………………
“aaaaaah! My nose oh!”
“Him dey bite my nose oh!” I heard Red loaf cried.
“hahahahahahaha! Red loaf nose na Kpomoh, e don tay wey Wale chop Kpomoh” Brother Timo laughed.
“who tell you that one? Sabi sabi!” I can be very disrespectful when someone abuse my elder brother.
“na me you dey talk to?” Brother Timo walked towards me.
“yes na you I dey talk to, how you go insult my brother?”
“you dey mad?” He asked.
“I no dey mad” I answered simple question.
“na me you dey tell say you no dey mad abi?”
Before I knew it, a push on my chest and I flew like a rocket with the speed of light.
Little did I know………………..
Little did I know that my b’alls in a split second will be fried with Akara b’alls.
“Shhhhaaaaa” I landed on something very hot.
My b’utt was on fire and I could feel in my brain too.
“My nyash!” I cried, “Brother Wale help me! My nyash!”
Not only my “nyash”, my laps were melting, My palms were swollen, my b’alls were frying, I could feel gas came out from my a’sshole, I had p’ooed in the hot oil.
“my nyash! Make una help me!” And they all fled save Brother Wale.
|Re: Brother Wale by flow1759: 3:32pm On Dec 03, 2015|
You no go piss.
U don vote? https://fidelitybank.ng/mytoughjobstory/index.php/ugochukwu/
|Re: Brother Wale by flow1759: 6:27pm On Dec 03, 2015|
“so you cannot fight for me!’ Brother Wale said to a bed ridden SB.
“But I was fighting for you na, that’s why I am here” The hospital bed was hard on my butt.
“Is it Timo that you are supposed to fight?”
“I was fighting him because he insulted you”
My nyash never remained the same; it was peel off, I was a typical; “black body, yellow nyash”.
For the next few weeks I went through hell in school. His Royal highness Kpobo made sure school was hell for me, He drew me in the blackboard sitting on a pot of hot oil. And mehn Kpobo can draw! He drew my head so perfectly that deep down I commended him.
“burn-burn nyash how far! Make I see your nyash!” Kpobo said to me during break time.
“na that one make you dey pour me spit?” Kpobo was a watering can when he spoke.
“who dey pour you spit?” He grabbed my nyash.
“aaaaaaaah! My nyash! Oya sorry sorry sorry!”
I felt groundnut oil dripped off my a’ss.
“You! Why are you standing?” Mr. Audu the new mathematics teacher said.
“sir I have…….” I pointed at my behind.
“sir his bom-bom is bad!” Kpobo stood and said.
“His bom-bom oti baje” Yemi my best friend stabbed me, and the whole class laughed.
“What happened to his bom-bom?” Mr. Audu asked.
“Sir him fall inside oil wey them dey use to fry Akara” Yemi the information minister.
Even Mr. Audu couldn’t hide his laughter.
“SB my man!” Yemi ran to me as I walked home.
“you dey mad there! So na me you dey laugh for class abi?”
“I dey mad abi? You dey curse me say I dey mad because I tell them wetin happen to your nyash abi?”
“Yes, are you not a mad man? Can’t you frown your face while they were laughing?”
“okay sorry na”
“abeg comot here jor!”
“sorry na! Moi moi dey here oh” He offered.
“I no want!” That was initial “gra-gra”, I knew I would still take.
“the Moi moi sweet oh, where you buy am?” I munched.
“na for Mama Ekiti place oh” He informed.
I had forgotten, I had forgotten that I needed to prevent eating fart-fast-producing food like Moi Moi.
We were about 50 metres to our street when on fart came; “brruuuu!” my a’ss itched. The gas was responsible i guess.
“bruuutuu!” And it was very itchy.
“Yemi!” I called.
“ehnnn! Wetin?” He turned.
“help me scratch my nyash” I pleaded, “scratch am small small oh”
As Yemi c’aressed my a’ss for some seconds I was back to normal, but he paused.
“Continue na!” I was enjoying it.
“Hold it there! What are you doing to his a’ss?” I heard Brother Wale’s voice.
“I don’t have axe with me oh!” Yemi said.
“I turned and saw Grand Commander of the Federal Republic Brother Wale with his first lady Christy.
“He is not axing me oooh!”
“hahahahahaha!” Christy laughed.
“why are you laughing na! Yemi is not with axe na!” I cautioned.
“Will you shut up! I said what are you doing with his a’ss?” Brother Wale pointed.
“Okay! My nyash! He is just helping me to scratch it”
“He is helping you scratch you nyash abi?” Brother Wale frowned.
“Is your nyash scratch card?” Aunty Christy said.
“Na your Papa nyash be scratch!” I cursed.
“eehn! you say wetin?” She yelled.
That was the day I knew Brother Wale could do better than Usain bolt.
|Re: Brother Wale by flow1759: 6:48pm On Dec 03, 2015|
I am happy you are enjoying my story.
Have you voted? https://fidelitybank.ng/mytoughjobstory/index.php/ugochukwu/ Just click the "love sign" at the bottom of the page. Thats all!
|Re: Brother Wale by NidaxJ(m): 6:55pm On Dec 03, 2015|
|Re: Brother Wale by flow1759: 7:07pm On Dec 03, 2015|
More laughter ahead
|Re: Brother Wale by girlhaley(f): 7:14pm On Dec 03, 2015|
Yea,I already voted
Waiting for d updates
|Re: Brother Wale by omortoyosi01(m): 10:40pm On Dec 03, 2015|
Oga flow is back... Thank God oo
Bros abeg update quick quick oo I dey gbadun yu
Naira land don dey dull me since YU no dey around... Nah everyday I dey read ur stories all over again
|Re: Brother Wale by Osman1996(m): 11:52pm On Dec 03, 2015|
flow abeg all ma neighborhood don think say I be mad man omo laughter more biko bros come update o more ink to ur pen
|Re: Brother Wale by bobby5o5(m): 8:55am On Dec 04, 2015|
oga flow if no be you who else men i feel you
|Re: Brother Wale by flow1759: 11:30am On Dec 04, 2015|
I am glad I am making you happy.
But you don vote?
https://fidelitybank.ng/mytoughjobstory/index.php/ugochukwu/ just click the love sign at the bottom of the page. Thats all. Thank you!
|Re: Brother Wale by flow1759: 11:59am On Dec 04, 2015|
God bless you for reading my stories! I'm honoured.
1 Like 1 Share
|Re: Brother Wale by stuff46(m): 1:22pm On Dec 04, 2015|
God bless you for sharing this.
|Re: Brother Wale by flow1759: 3:03pm On Dec 04, 2015|
Dear Brother Wale, I know say I be bad boy, I know say I piss in the bed fourteen times this year, forgive me I drink too much of water every night, I don lied to you reach three million times, forgive me I go reduce the lie to ten for one day. I have not been frying delishus Akara, forgive me I no dey patient to allow it done. I have reduce to forty five position out of sixty wey we dey for class; e be like say Mr. Audu the maths teacher hate me; he say my head too big.
Brother Wale I know say heaven dey, I no say God sef dey; i go dey go church every sunday, I swear!
Brother Wale pls all I want for Christmas is “Timbolo”
God bless you in anticipashun for positive responses.
Your fine Brother, SB.
I posted the letter in his shoe and I left for school that morning.
“Guy if you see my new red Timbolo ehnnnn!” Kpobo said.
“Me my own na Blue!” Kolawole added.
“Me my own don old, my senior brother say him go buy white one for me before Christmas!” Yellow said.
“What of you Yemi?” Kpobo asked.
“My father say him go buy for me next week”
“And what of you SB?” Kpobo asked.
“Me I never know whether my brother go buy for me oh! I will discuss it with him this evening”
“Seyi! Come here!” Brother called from the sitting room that evening.
“I am here sir” I had already rehearsed what all my responses to his questions would be.
This was what I rehearsed and mastered:
Brother Wale: Seyi! Who wrote that letter?
SB: It was me sir! Good afternoon sir!
Brother Wale: And what is good about the afternoon?
SB: Nothing sir.
Brother Wale: Was the letter meant for me?
SB: Yes sir
Brother Wale: And what is Timbolo?
SB: Timbolo is a shoe that my friends are wearing now, I like the shoe.
Brother Wale: I see! So how much is this Timbolo?
SB: 5k, I mean five thousand naira for the fake one, and ten thousand naira for the original one, but I want the fake one.
Brother Wale: Haahahahahahaha! And why do you prefer the fake?
SB: Because I know you cannot afford the original.
Brother Wale: Hahahahahahaha! You are funny! I will buy it for you next week.
That was my imagination of what the conversation would be, but that wasn’t how it was in reality.
“Who wrote that letter?” He asked facing the TV.
“It was me sir!” I answered.
“It is me, not it was me! Correct yourself!”
“It is me!”
“Are you the one that wrote it yourself or someone helped you write it?” I thought he wanted to give me an award for my excellent letter writing skills.
“Helped? Nobody help me oh!”
“Come closer” He smiled, “you can write oh, come and shake me!”
“Brother I told you I can now write letter!” I shook his hand smiling.
“aaaaah! My hand!” I cried.
Brother Wale was mangling my right hand.
“Brother it is paining me!” I cried.
As if that was all, he gave me a sledge hammer knock on my head.
“oooaaah! My head”
As if that was all……………… He farted.
“Brother!” His fart smelled like rotten egg.
Yet he still held my right hand and I felt one finger dislocated.
“Brother my hand have break!” I cried.
“hnnnnn!” His fart smelled “better”; like corpse.
“braaaa!” He farted again, and at that point I think the stench affected my eardrum; I heard echoes.
“kpooopokom!” Another knock on my head cleared my eardrum; I was hearing a loud alarm.
Brother Wale's judgment was that I learned three news words everyday and that I would tell him the meaning of the words every night before we went to bed.
“So tell me the three words you learned today?”
“Okay! I learned Eloquent!” I told him.
“Good! and what does it mean?” He asked.
“Speaking readily, clearly, and effectively sir!” I said.
“That’s right! The second word?”
“The second word is Fantastic!”
“And what does it mean?” He asked.
“It means extraordinarily good or great; used especially as an intensifier” I had crammed the meaning of these words.
“Thats good! The last word?”
“The last word is C’litoris sir!”
“what? Who told you that word?”
“Nobody, I saw it in the dictionary, Brother wait na let me tell you the meaning of the word!” I couldn’t wait.
“oya speak!” I saw the disgust in his face.
“It means a female sexual organ homologous to the p’enis” I said, “And brother lemme make a sentence with it; Aunty Christy have a big c’litoris while Brother Wale have a small p’enis”
Blackout on me that night.
8 Likes 2 Shares
|Re: Brother Wale by flow1759: 3:04pm On Dec 04, 2015|
Bless you too.
|Re: Brother Wale by hayzey(m): 3:17pm On Dec 04, 2015|
flow1759:guy this boy is sure dead dat night o.... flow nice creativity, i just hope say dis no b tru story o.... because if it is then i peaty the boy o......
|Re: Brother Wale by flow1759: 3:18pm On Dec 04, 2015|
For those that have not voted yet, what are you waiting for?
Here is the link: https://fidelitybank.ng/mytoughjobstory/index.php/ugochukwu/ click the "love sign" at the bottom of the page that appears and thats all. U don vote be that.
Tell your friends.
|Re: Brother Wale by flow1759: 3:21pm On Dec 04, 2015|
True story as told to me by my friend SB, He is a graduate now. Despite all odds, he made it through school and he is serving now.
|Re: Brother Wale by NidaxJ(m): 3:23pm On Dec 04, 2015|
oga flow no kill person fr here ooooo......
STILL I LAUGH
|Re: Brother Wale by NidaxJ(m): 3:23pm On Dec 04, 2015|
oga flow no kill person fr here ooooo...... STILL I LAUGH
|Re: Brother Wale by flow1759: 3:26pm On Dec 04, 2015|
And STILL I AM HAPPY YOU ARE LAUGHING.
|Re: Brother Wale by flow1759: 3:28pm On Dec 04, 2015|
Can someone help me drag ishilove here? I miss her. Just a comment from ishilove and it will make my day.
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