|Join Nairaland / LOGIN! / Trending / Recent / New|
Stats: 2,641,091 members, 6,181,887 topics. Date: Friday, 05 March 2021 at 10:54 PM
|Re: Securing The Bag (The Lagos Hustle) by Hardes(m): 9:46am On Jan 17|
|Re: Securing The Bag (The Lagos Hustle) by HelenBee(f): 10:34am On Jan 17|
Thank you Soul, I'm glad.
|Re: Securing The Bag (The Lagos Hustle) by silverlinen(m): 11:28am On Jan 17|
Okay.... let the updates come
I dey onboard
|Re: Securing The Bag (The Lagos Hustle) by souloho19(m): 8:34pm On Jan 17|
pardon the omission my boss, it's a privilege to have you on board
|Re: Securing The Bag (The Lagos Hustle) by oluwadabira111(f): 8:36pm On Jan 17|
souloho19:When are you uploading the next update bro
|Re: Securing The Bag (The Lagos Hustle) by souloho19(m): 8:37pm On Jan 17|
The great Sparrow himself, your surmise got me smiling sheepishly already. Glad to have you onboard bro
|Re: Securing The Bag (The Lagos Hustle) by EkopSparoAyara(m): 9:45pm On Jan 17|
You're the man bro.. Am ready for the suspenseful ride..
|Re: Securing The Bag (The Lagos Hustle) by souloho19(m): 10:01pm On Jan 17|
The G Club
We lived in a boy's-quarter apartment behind our Landlord's huge mansion. Back when I was in Secondary school I always got girls in my school to believe my family owned the huge white house which towered over the high fence but had a fierce dog that roamed the compound so they couldn't come inside. As I walked down the street reminiscing, I realized nothing had really changed since I left for camp a year ago. The same shops and the same pharmacy still lined up both sides of the street, my barber friend's 'Bassey Cuts' barbing saloon was still blasting music loudly as usual, this time an old Tuface mix.
I'll never forget how uncertain I felt walking down my street, rolling my travelling box with one hand and dragging my huge Ghana must Go sack with the other, the question that had been plaguing me since the terrible bus ride still continued to weigh heavy on me.
I had to explore my options as slim as they looked, I could get lucky and find a job, it can't be that bad....things will surely brighten up I told myself as I pushed open the gate and entered the compound.
I didn't tell anyone I was coming home today and I quickly dropped my baggage (pun intended) at the door and wore a big smile, wore my khaki cap or headdress as they made us call it in camp and marched into the house like a soldier. 10 minutes later there were happy squeals from my mom and siblings as I made mock salutes and told them made up tales about my service year.
Later that night my mom called me to the parlour. I already knew what she would say next, I knew her too well and anytime she was worried about something her eyes betrayed her easily.
"fuoyo so what's your next step?" She asked after I had taken a seat
I had my reply ready; "mum I'm just waiting expectantly for good news, I attended a lot of interviews and sent my cv's to some good companies before I came home. By God's grace I'll hear feedback"
I saw she didn't still look convinced and a long talk about my chances of securing a good job was incoming so I quickly added, "Also there's this close friend of mine, his uncle is the head of HR in a....errm....firm and he promised to talk to his uncle on my behalf, I'll call him tomorrow to find out."
"Oluwa ma se' loruko Jesu" (God will do it in Jesus name)
The next day I spent a couple of minutes debating on what to say to my friend on the phone.
Yes there really was a friend but no, there was no uncle and there was no firm and definitely no HR department. My friend's name was Tobey but everyone called him Shaq cause he was similar to the ex Lakers basketballer in body build. He was at least 6'4 and anything but lanky. The funny thing about our friendship was we both went to the same school but never really knew ourselves cause we rolled with entirely different cliques. He played basketball while I played football, He was in business while I was in science department, we shook hands and bumped shoulders whenever we met at the cafeteria or school hall but that was about it.
Then a year ago we both got posted to Kogi state and ended up in the same platoon and the same hostel and overnight we became best of friends. We spent lights out lying on our bunk beds in camp, reminiscing about our school days and mutual friends and wondering how come we were never close back then. Shaq was very generous and I never had to eat the poorly cooked camp food cause thankfully he was there to foot my maami market meals. It became pretty obvious he'd come to camp loaded with cash but it wasn't till the third and final week of camp I found out Shaq was a yahoo boy, well to be fair he hated the word; 'yahoo' according to him every Tom Dick and Harry was a yahoo boy nowadays. He seemed to prefer the term G boy.
We were chilling at our usual hangout in the maami market when the beagle sounded instructing us to go collect our bicycle allowance. The corpers around us had enthusiastically skipped off to the collection points and I was also excited but Shaq had other plans.
"just imagine, see how people are rushing to go and queue under this hot sun all because of how much?" He said disgustedly and I shifted uncomfortably in my chair, having come within a second of joining them.
"I now remember why we didn't talk for four years, you're snobbish" I accused
"call it whatever you want but i'm right, most of these people will use the money to sort their outstanding debts in maami market, and drink the rest away then they start begging around urgently for 2k until allawee start to enter. allawee wey no fit buy my nike slides" he snickered
"ehen? but guy come first on a serious note, which work you dey do?" I was a little more than curious.
He laughed long and hard, "yeye guy, so all of a sudden you want to know ba? because i've pricked your conscience. Abeg go and collect your allowance o, I no hold you"
I pestered him some more until he finally opened up to me. "Guy if you're really interested in my work, throw your android phone away and get an iphone, then come and learn work"
"but which work? you won't even tell me what it is"
"have you heard of dating?" he watched me closely
I nodded, "you mean yahoo?"
He took offence to that. "Did you hear anything like yahoo from my mouth? when you're serious do what I asked you then hit me up. If you get ororo for head atleast within 6 months of dedicated hustle with me money suppose touch your hand"
I laughed and changed the topic after a while. "oya big shark like you....you go do me sharwarma and declare beer for my head tonight abeg"
He just smiled and after a while I stood up and joined the reduced queue for my 19,500.
Camp had been fun. Everyday Shaq and I shut down maami market, and Shaq spent a fortune. Every night was a party, the soldiers would drink and switch from their daytime crazy strict to more jovial characters, the girls loved us and were always around us and guys hailed us. It was easy to enjoy it all and forget or ignore the fact that my pal was a G boy.
Then camp was over and the real work started, Shaq and I were surprisingly also posted to the same local government but Shaq ghosted, he cut a deal with the L.I and even had his certificate mailed to him so he returned to Lagos and never had to step foot in the community we had been posted.
Over time I immersed myself in my activities, determined to enjoy my service year to the fullest, and I sure did and it was easy to forget my little discussion with Shaq and I held on tight to my android phone, it was a samsung afterall.
11 months later I was sitting on a bench in my compound, back in Lagos and facing a little moral dilemma before I embarked on the point of no return. I dialed his number thinking I'll finally have to have that phone swap we talked about.
The conversation was unexpectedly short; "Hahahahahahahahaha so allawee don finish, owu don blow you now you wan hustle?" He laughed once I made my intentions known
"guy I dey serious, I don buy iphone 7 already, make I come your side?"
"no not yet...do these 3 things first let me know you're really serious, first scout online for the profile of a handsome middleged white gentleman, get as many pictures as you can get, then get a vpn login....you know what? I no fit shout I go text you the details for whatsapp."
"okay, thanks man"
"welcome to the club ma G"
3 Likes 1 Share
|Re: Securing The Bag (The Lagos Hustle) by souloho19(m): 10:04pm On Jan 17|
"His name is Mr Doings, he is really rich, like super rich, but he likes his things coded which is understandable because of his position...."
"Mr doings? what kind of name is that?" I interrupted her
Fifi giggled, "oh funny! his real name is one Brian something but he likes me to call him mister doings"
I was still a bit confused, "What does it mean?"
"it means he has doings now, according to him, if money was a verb it'll be called doings..hahaha, don't worry you'll see what I mean....just let him enjoy you, once he likes you, he'll spoil you with so much unimaginable things"
It was exactly 4 days since our first discussion, Fifi was prepping me up for my date with Mr Brian something, (I couldn't bring myself to call him Mr Doings)
An uber was going to drive me to an exclusive 5 star hotel where he'll be waiting, then we'll have dinner. From there it was either to the room for the night or we could go clubbing first, it depended on his mood.
"hmmm....for someone that you say likes to stay coded he sure likes to enjoy o" I observed
"babe believe me you'll come and thank me tomorrow, oya come let's decide on what you'll wear...this gown is short and the front brings out your boobs well, but this crop top won't be bad, your cute bellybutton will just drive him nuts"
"abeg o fifi..." I couldn't stop my pulse from racing as I considered the line I was about to cross... but then again; what was the big deal? not like you're the first or only girl to do this, what the hell is wrong with you sef?
Somehow Fifi's scolding voice had managed to end up in my head and it seemed to have retired my conscience of late.
I chose the gown, my belly button was too sensitive.
I had never been to a supposed 5 star restaurant or hotel before and I was in for quite a shock when the driver pulled up at the curb and hurriedly turned around to open my door.
"oh it's not necessary," I opened the door before he could get round the hood. Then he did one better and hurried to the restaurant door, holding the elegant glass handles open for me.
I shook my head but smiled. Luckily there was no one around to view the embarrasing scene. As I walked through the doors, I wondered why that was so, at the very least there would be a doorman? The restaurant was in a totally different wing from the very popular hotel and stood on its own, surely there'll be other guests having dinner, other cars in the lots.....but everywhere was empty.
Inside was beautiful, colourful chandeliers hung from mirrored ceilings, the red carpet was spotless and the tablecloth had symmetric patterns that went with the huge curtains on the wall beside the giant ac units.
All the tables were empty, the chairs were faced down like the restaurant was closed but the a/c was on and soft music was playing from two small speakers on the ceiling. I liked the song playing; Dido-life for rent.
Finally I spotted him at the very last table on the last row. Actually I noticed the red glow of a cigarette first before recognizing the refined looking older man smoking the cuban. He looked cool and even though I didn't know much about men's suite it was obvious his was pretty expensive. He signaled me with his index finger, which on getting closer I noticed was perfectly manicured and stuffed in a golden lion head ring. He said nothing for some seconds, just stared at me intensely with a kind of awed look in his eye, then he gestured for me to sit, "please dear, have a sit"
Somehow his voice wasn't what I had expected. I guess he looked so alpha that I had expected him to have a deep baritone that would somehow resonate the power he seemed to effortlessly exclude. Instead he had a kind of high pitch, almost like he didn't have an Adam's apple. The thought made me smile, and he seemed to take the smile in good faith cause he smiled too.
I sat down and he offered his hand.
"Sweetheart, nice to meet you. I'm mister Doings"
I clasped his hand in mine, they were cold.
"I'm Jessy," I offered sweetly. Did he just seriously introduce himself as Mr doings?
"Oh you look lovely, I hope you like the privacy I arranged" He gestured his left hand across the empty dining room holding the Cuban cigar with so much ease
I gazed around "oh my...."
"yes love...now let's look at our menu while you tell me all about yourself okay." He finally released my hand and raised what seemed to be a glass of red wine to his lips. "Would you like a drink?"
"wa-water is fine"
"fair enough, but I must insist you join me on a glass during dinner, it sets the mood for more intimate conversation" He flashed what he obviously considered a charming smile.
He took a sip then tapped the side of the glass cup with his ring as if expecting a magic menu to pop out of the air and I kind of braced myself cause there was a kind of confident aura about him. This was a man used to having his way.
After a couple of seconds, a waiter approached from behind the restaurant holding two menus. I ordered the samosa rolls, roast lamb with fries and potato salad and a slice of chocolate cake for dessert. He went for the seafood special and snail sauce with a side helping of Ofada rice.
The waiter retreated wordlessly and Mr Doings smiled at me, "So Jessy, Fifi tells me you want to study accounting?"
"Oh please drop that sir nonsense, you call me Mr D or baby," he winked at me
I decided to go with the flow, "yes baby"
That seemed to please him more. "accounting is good, that's really good, we need more accountants in this unaccountable part of the world" he chuckled
"how about you baby, Fifi says you're a bank ceo?" I asked him
The question seemed to throw him off guard but he laughed it off, "oooh I like that, you're a curious one eh?"
I smiled sweetly, wondering if that was all the reply I was going to get.
He took a long drag of his cigga then said, "I collect things"
The waiter reappeared, pushing a trolley of some sort, he put a second bottle of wine on the table, along with a carton of juice and some bottles of water. My small chops followed next in a sealed saucer and he gave a half bow and retreated as noiselessly as he had come.
When we were alone once more I asked, "what kind of things?"
He looked into my eyes and smiled, "interesting things"
That was all he told me about himself, on the other hand he wanted to find out all about me. We spent most of dinner talking about my life; where I was from, about my parents, down to my likes and dislikes and then he got a little explicit and sexual with his comments.
I had decided that Mr Doings had a little drinking problem. The wine and cigar were his appetizer and main dish. The rice and snail stew was more like dessert, judging by the few spoons he took. Then he was back to drinking again. Still he drank with a rare kind of class, it will make it hard to call him a drunkard. Maybe cause he wasn't drinking whiskey or rum or spirit, or beer but kept taking small sips of his red wine and smoking his cigar. By the time dinner was over, The two bottles had been cleaned out and I had barely finished my glass. Still I decided I had a nice time, the food was wonderful and despite his all too prying, intimate and at times sexual questions, Mr Doings seemed alright, a little mysterious but I guess it added to the charm.
Finally dinner was over and he brought out his phone. "Bring the car out front"
"Oh....I thought you were lodged here?" I asked
He smiled at me, his speech was a bit slurred, still he gave the impression that he was tipsy, not drunk. "oh I am but you're so fucking innocent and sexy I changed my mind. I want you for the weekend, we'll go to one of my favorite suites on the island, it's a penthouse and we'll have a private time, just you and I"
"but sir I'm sorry, I have to be at work tomorrow"
"tomorrow is saturday" he reminded me
"yes sir, I work at the mall"
"oh, nonsense...forget work my dear" Then he said something every girl, no, everyone likes to hear. "call your account number"
I rattled off the 10 digits automatically, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible and almost immediately I felt my phone vibrate in my purse.
"That's a little something just to show you how serious I am. now let's go. Thaddeus has already brought the car"
"I'll like to use the bathroom first" I told him
Two things; I had to call Fifi cause this wasn't the agreement we had made and even though she'd vouched Mr Doings wasn't a freak or anything, his change of plans still made me a little uneasy. A weekend was either too long or too short, depending on who you were stuck with and filthy rich or not, I had just met the man.
The second thing was I had to check how much had just entered my account. My available balance was ingrained in my memory; 4,891.
In the toilet I gave a shocked gasp. I was 150k richer. Just like that? My 6 months salary earned already?
Well not yet earned, you're obviously in for a long night. I sighed, that's it Fifi's voice had to go.
4 Likes 1 Share
|Re: Securing The Bag (The Lagos Hustle) by souloho19(m): 10:05pm On Jan 17|
Life as a thug is hard. Although there are different seasons with different opportunities which you have to recognize or be smart enough to create, but the truth is that in the long run, the struggle is real. I like to believe I'm well feared from Mushin to Shitta and this respect has its own perks, like I could always expect to get weed for free and I'm assured of taxing at least one or two people to take care of my bread and beans breakfast plus jedi and cigga.
lately I had been sighing and frowning a lot but can you blame me? Decades hustling in these godforsaken streets and what did I have to show for it? everyday a new scheme to survive, to earn small money that didn't even last. The hole digging had worked perfectly fine the other day. I think the three of us had made abaout 7k each, but then, we got to do it only once in a while cause the weather conditions had to be just perfect with the perfect amount of rainfall before Isa did the digging, that was the only way the cars could get stuck.
Apart from similar schemes the other way I made money in the street was by good old fashion intimidation.
There was good money in the streets even if it was change, but it was easy come, easier go. You see, I have a daughter, she was just 7 months and her mother, the ever stubborn Barakat had decided it was her life calling to nag me to death until I "did the right thing and married her" She just refused to understand that I had no plans of settling down anytime soon. I could imagine it; the great kanaku, self acclaimed lord of the streets now a loving husband and father. Hahaha, no one would fear me again for sure.
It was fine just like this, Barakat and I had been practically living together before she even got pregnant, why complicate things and add a ring? I liked life with her and the baby just fine but the only problem is she had decided to punish me by constantly milking every little money I have to always buy something urgently for the baby. It's always urgent, and God help me if I failed to give her, I won't be able to rest, and when she starts shouting, Ruki will always start crying, and she knew my daughter was the most important thing in my life and I will always do my part and provide.
Which is why I was always angry these days. The small change that used to be enough wasn't cutting it anymore. In fact the small change alone was diaper money these days. I still had to hustle for formula money, clothes money, drug money. And trust Barakat, since I refused to give her what she really wanted, she made damn well sure to collect whatever baby money she asked for. Ask me what she was doing with her life apart from making my life a living hell? I wonder. She's supposed to be a "very good hair stylist." Once in a blue moon, a customer comes to the house....my house, they gist, eat my food, watch my tv and then she finally plaits her hair.
I was so cranky I decided to head to the bus park instead of going home.
It was at the bus park I saw the Jjc. It's never hard to spot a jjc, some of them try their best to hide it but if you scrutinize them long enough you'll notice the signs; they never maintain eye contact, they are always restless and they're always unfamiliar with the hood usually cause they don't go out much. This particular jjc had shades on to cover his eyes and was dressed in carrot jean and some fancy footwear. His swag was complete up to the durag and down to his airpods. I had a category for his type, I called them ice cream boys and they were my favourite type of jjc's. How? Just observe;
"Fine boy, wettin you dey find?" I barked out from outside Isa's shop where I had been sitting and observing the young fellow. It was obvious he wanted something and I could guess what it was. He looked at me then hurriedly took some relieved steps forward. Merche' the vulcanizer idly observed me from his tree spot prepared for the show since business was slow today.
"weldone bros...please, abeg I dey find...I want buy...errrm arizona"
"How many you wan buy?" I asked.
"Please I need 1k"
I stretched out my hand and he brought out one thousand naira note which I immediately squeezed in my palm. "Suleiman" I called out
My unofficial right hand man appeared in a flash. He was never too far away.
Now I could predict what will happen next all too clearly ; "Take this 1k, collect AZ from Baba for this young man, sharp sharp"
"sure tin egbon," Suleimon would take the money and dissapear and bring the weed and I'll give the kid and say; "make I hold something for here," or maybe ask; "you no go buy our own?"
Either way, maybe he'll drop 5hundred, maybe 1k, then I give suleiman 40% for his troubles. So I go home with how much? I had SmA gold on my mind, frisocreme on my mind, pampers on my mind, lots and lots of pampers. For such small creatures, babies pooped a whole lot.
Unsatisfied with the scenerio, I shook my head and pocketed the 1 thousand naira. "first things first..." Suleimon was looking at me expectantly, ready to follow any direction I play it.
I noticed the jjc move from side to side from the corner of my eye, restless. Perfect.
"Suleimon them dey sell weed for here?"
Hahahaha crazy Suleimon called me officer
I looked at the boy, "do you know who I am? you want to buy Arizona from soldier, you will explain yourself in the barracks,"
Normally the boy wouldn't believe this crap, not with my bushy goatie and casual but terrifying face, heck I was even wearing a faded small Pasuma concert t-shirt but then again he had no choice than to believe because he didn't have the balls to challenge this bullshit I'm feeding him. You see how this works? it's all about guts, and if you wanna go far in the streets, you have to learn to say no or else vultures like myself would hustle you to the ground.
I ended up cleaning the boy out of extra 3k. Of course he got his weed, I'm not heartless. Sule got 1k and I went home with 2k, which entered Barakat's claws not long after.
Still it's important to always turn it around and become friends with these people, when you hustle someone once in the streets, you make him your friend. That's because no one likes to be taken a fool for long. Even a coward will fight back after a while. That's why you see crooked police exchange contacts and tell you to call them if you run into trouble, after they finish extorting you.
Same thing happens on the street. After everything I did to him, we smoked one of the 10 wraps and I gave him my phone number. "if anybody bother you on this street, just find me come. You be sure boy, oya na ma guy!"
I found out his name was Jackson and he was lodged in a hotel close by. He had asked around discreetly and been told he could buy dope at the motor park.
I saw him like three more times after that day and always taxed him continuously while reminding him I was now in his corner.
Back at home I had figured out a simple recipe that worked and reduced all the nagging.
Barakat couldn't complain about anything if the baby was asleep because my small apartment carried voices through the thin walls. So anytime she was about to throw a tantrum or complain about something, I always stopped her with, "shh, the baby's sleeping"
And my little girl was just like her old man, she didn't like stress. She just wanted to eat, sleep, play with her fish chewy toy, have a fresh change of diapers and sleep some more. So you see, all my street scheming, intimidation tricks, scowling and frowning and even at times fighting is just to make sure my baby girl is comfortable, cause when she's comfortable I get a little peace.
9 Likes 1 Share
|Re: Securing The Bag (The Lagos Hustle) by oluwadabira111(f): 10:05pm On Jan 17|
|Re: Securing The Bag (The Lagos Hustle) by Ann2012(f): 3:01am On Jan 18|
Thanks for the update
|Re: Securing The Bag (The Lagos Hustle) by JustCruise(m): 4:49am On Jan 18|
Wonderful.... more updates.
|Re: Securing The Bag (The Lagos Hustle) by Doubra12(m): 9:00am On Jan 18|
Thanks for the update Oga soul. Imagine my surprise when I saw your moniker. Welcome back
|Re: Securing The Bag (The Lagos Hustle) by YoungBruzzy: 10:20am On Jan 18|
Thanks for the update.. This is a nice storyline you've got going here.. More ink to your pen brudda.
|Re: Securing The Bag (The Lagos Hustle) by EkopSparoAyara(m): 2:38pm On Jan 18|
It takes just a little moment, a few words, an almost minute actions to change the course of our lives.. When the wind of change blows, how strong are your feet stamped to the grown, are your morals strong enough?
Fouyo, may have grown up with a single mom who may not have been able to be so strict with her kids or command enough respect like a father would, as such there's a gap in the moral upbringing of Fouyo, hence, he is easily convinced.
Jecinta, I wouldn't be surprised if she grew up from a staunch Bible believing, tongue speaking Christian home, but just a little test and she fell for it, oh money, the love of money.
Kanaku, could have grown up an orphan, or maybe he wanted more freedom and ran off from home into the hostile street, horned his skills, stole to survive, must have been beaten to a pulp on several occasions, all that resulted to who he is now. He now has the responsibility of raising a child, how he will successfully do that with a decayed sense of humour, broken moral values is what am waiting to see..
In all of this, I will keep saying;Dear Parents, it is not about how good your parenting is or how strict you are, you should be grateful for the choices your kids made when you weren't around to watch them..
|Re: Securing The Bag (The Lagos Hustle) by PrudySara(f): 3:16pm On Jan 19|
We're securing the bag together. Can I have a glass of champagne??
Thanks for the mention dearie!
|Re: Securing The Bag (The Lagos Hustle) by YoungBruzzy: 5:25pm On Jan 19|
|Re: Securing The Bag (The Lagos Hustle) by Elfaris(m): 6:47pm On Jan 19|
Wow thanks for the mention Souloho. Can't wait to dive into the story.
|Re: Securing The Bag (The Lagos Hustle) by JONSYN7154(m): 6:36am On Jan 20|
souloho19:OP, why did you mention Benue my state? I don vex, I no go read am again.
KEEP IT UP
|Re: Securing The Bag (The Lagos Hustle) by Tuhndhay(m): 6:35pm On Jan 21|
Bro..... I don land, Oya make we continue on the journey
|Re: Securing The Bag (The Lagos Hustle) by HORLADSTAR(m): 8:53am On Jan 24|
Runs into the thread, sharperly bought a front seat ticket and sat down jejely to dey enjoy the story as e dey unfold.
Modified: It's been a long time boss and it's a nice story you gat going here mr souloho19. thumbs up
|Re: Securing The Bag (The Lagos Hustle) by HORLADSTAR(m): 8:54am On Jan 24|
Anticipation mode activated
|Re: Securing The Bag (The Lagos Hustle) by souloho19(m): 10:27pm On Jan 24|
Sink Or Swim
Whoever said yahoo was easy told a big lie. I don't know what I really expected at first, but the first full month I started 'hustling' with Shaq was a living hell. Imagine staying up all night sitting in a fishing boat, casting a wide but torn net into a shallow river. Most of the fishes you pull up are no good, some are just out to waste time, others have already been scarred and wiser to your fishing antics, but if you're lucky enough and hardworking enough and play your cards well, you just might catch a nice big fish, rich enough and in love enough to oblige your frequent financial requests. This was the goal.
Shaq was a rare kind of yahoo boy. He seemed to have principles,
"I live by 3 rules..." he told me, "3 golden rules....if you stick to them, me and you will get along just fine and you'll cashout better block sooner or later;
1, you either involve God or you involve the devil. There's no sitting on the fence in this business. Me I go to church every Sunday, I pray first thing every morning and every night before bed. I read the psalms when I can, this life is not just about hustling, the main thing is seeing results. You must hustle with the belief that you have grace and activate that grace if you want to have a fruitful hustle. But if you want to go and wash your head in shrine or start eating shit and all those rubbish, I wish you all the best but not in my home bro"
I was flabberghasted but I nodded.
"number 2, never rip off your hommie. Any business you run with someone, always make sure you fulfil your end and the person sees something from it, even if it's the least money you can deliver, do it for the sake of future deals. I'm saying this cause when better money gets involved now, it will bring out your greedy side, especially since owu don dey give you over 2.5 since" he broke off laughing and I chuckled.
"no mind me jare," he became serious again. "Okay finally number 3; there has to be blood in your eyes, as in you have to be relentless. Can you keep hustling for months with nothing to show for it until you catch the perfect fish? See forget all these long talk you hear about G, all you need is to catch one person that can change your life. Just one! But first you need to be hungry." He stared long and hard into my eyes, "are you hungry?"
"oh I'm hungry bro, i'm very hungry"
Shaq already had two children from 2 different women, he was also a very chronic mama's boy. I mean his mom called him almost every night and he drove to go see her every weekend. Now that I think of it, I guess he was able to lead a somewhat stable life because of the considerable influence his mother still wielded over him. I mean Shaq had millions sitting in his account, yet preferred to spend friday and saturday night at home, drinking booze, smoking skunk and playing call of duty on his playstation.
As for me? oh...just wait till I get this money first. I was going to ball, as in the highest kind of balling, I was going to conquer Lagos, Bleep fine girls, classic babes, bad bitches, I was already handsome I just needed the freshness that came with money.
I sighed and shook the thoughts out of my head. 3 weeks 4 days gone and nothing to show yet. Shaq kept telling me, "remember, be relentless...nothing comes easy. Or do you think it's easy to scam a rational person. We're talking about emotional manipulation here, it doesn't happen overnight. You either sink or swim, the choice is yours"
"I know, I know...but you nko? I don't see you chatting with anybody iht after night..." I sighed. To tell the truth Shaq hardly ever did anything. He had gotten to Godfather status now and he had dozens of younger and even older boys who were under him. He put them through, gave them instructions and tools and they put in the work while he picked up the money and collected his generous cut. And no matter how we looked at it, I was also one of his boys now. The only difference was I had friends status and lived in his house and drove his car.
Shaq scoffed at my comment, and the way he looked at me made me think he had been privy to my thoughts. "Do you know when I started bombing? Since secondary school I've been hustling, that's almost a decade now. You're even privileged, there's unlimited data in this house, laptop dey, phone dey, there's good food, even alcohol. You can't compare yourself to me right now bro. Where were you those days of saving money all week just to treck to Eric Moore and use cyber cafe for 1 hour?"
After his reprimand, I felt a fire begin to burn in my belly and over the next weeks, I practically threw myself into my catfish profile. I put in all my mental capacity (if it was worth much), my emotions, I invested myself totally in the life. My girlfriend broke up with me saying I had become emotionally unavailable and I couldn't care less. I basically became the phony profile I had created and over the coming days I got more replies.
Great! I pulled up my net but there was nothing of note, most of the women seemed to sense the profile was fake and they either stopped responding or blocked me. But this time I didn't get frustrated, I got hungrier and became a nocturnal animal. Sleeping all day, pressing all night.
Every yahoo boy has one prayer, that is, to catch one sure client. That's what keeps the hungry ones going, even after running into brick walls of disappointment, time and time again. This was what kept me going, and the fact that Shaq was kind enough to let his own generous cuts from his many working boys trickle into my hands and so I wasn't outright broke and could afford to send my mother some little money every week. It wasn't much but she was grateful I was sending her something from my salary and still saving on the side, plus I kept assuring her I was going to get promoted and get a huge salary raise anytime soon from my phony job. So I kept grinding or as Shaq called it, 'hustliiiiiing'
It was in the 11th week I met Lori Mau. Lori was a medical doctor, in her late fifties, she had been widowed for 18 years and was tired of being alone. Her daughter Stacy had married an European and so she only got to see her grandchildren during the holidays. Probably feeling a little guilt about how lonely her mother was, Stacy persuaded her to try out an elite dating site for the elderly.
After weeks of continuous hounding from her daughter, Lori gave in and opened a profile. On her 4th day on the site, she received a message; "Hello, you have the prettiest eyes"
"Thanks" she replied. Curious, she clicked on the thumbnail and checked out the profile. She liked his name; Josh Ince. She spent a couple of minutes going through the colourful pictures on his profile and who could blame her? Josh was a handsome middle aged man, with blue eyes and a dreamy smile. He had a couple of pictures with a young teen who looked a lot like him and a picture with a cat. Lori loved that one the most, she thought he looked so sweet, snuggled in bed with the cat, and for the first time in a long time, Lori felt a kind of longing in her heart.
His bio was also very interesting. He was a sea-search and rescue Helicopter pilot. "Wow," She was quite breathless as she scanned his info and when she heard the notification of an incoming message from him, she smiled and felt her heart race.
Lori spent 3 hours chatting on her laptop with her new admirer. When she finally had to call it a night, she gave him her number and Josh promised to call the next day. She stayed up an extra 30 minutes, rereading all the messages and smiling like a little girl. She went to bed feeling happy and hopeful.
Somewhere in Lagos, a young man of 22 logged off his laptop and glanced at the wall clock. The time read; 5:18am. He gazed into space for some seconds then smiled and pumped his fist in the air. His name wasn't Josh, it was.....you guessed it, yours truly.
12 Likes 1 Share
|Re: Securing The Bag (The Lagos Hustle) by souloho19(m): 10:52pm On Jan 24|
Pros And Cons
My mom taught me when I was little to always take a pen and paper, draw a table with two columns and title it; Advantage & Disadvantages of ("whatever stupid decision you're about to make" as she had eloquently put it)
The first time she brought up this method, I was 15 and my school principal had sent for her because our English teacher had caught me and a boy in my class, kissing and smooching behind the mini mart.
When we got home, she brought out the turning stick from the plate rack and thrashed me about 7 strokes on my buttocks while I cried and begged.
I stayed locked in my room that day and refused to eat lunch or dinner, later that night she came into my room. "Jessy, I know you're growing and you're a big girl now in SS2, by next year you'll write Waec and before you know it, you're getting ready for University"
I was pretending to read the paperback novel, still very upset with her but curiosity got the better of me and I closed the book. "I know mom, we were just playing truth or dare, mister Patrick just entered and started-"
"Jess, Jess it's okay. I understand. I was once a young girl too. I know how it is with boys, but you're still too young. That's how it starts, from there now you you start sleeping with boys and then you get pregnant. Is that what you want? When your mates are in University you'll be breastfeeding and taking care of your baby at home. Yes now, cause I won't nurse and take care of any bastard child under my roof. At least you're not a bastard, you know your father"
Then she told me, "next time you feel your body itching you, take a pen and paper and calm down, then list the advantages and disadvantages of whatever stupid decision you're about to make. In this case what are the advantages....I can't even think of many, okay maybe you'll enjoy 10 minutes pleasure or lets even say 1 hour pleasure, by the time you list the ways it could derail your life and what it could cost you eh, if you're a smart girl you'll decide to keep yourself for your husband." She paused for effect and let the words sink in after-which she seemed satisfied with my reaction to her wisdom. "That's all, put off the gen by 10. I'm going to bed."
Strange that I would remember that conversation tonight. Cause I didn't draw any table when I first decided to sleep with Mr Doings. Come on, earning 6 months salary in one night was all the advantage I had needed. Plus I wasn't a little girl anymore, I would be 20 soon. I knew how to take care of myself. I wasn't going to get pregnant.
But now I found myself drawing a mental table, comparing the pro and cons. The pros were many; the money was good, right now I had just less than 400k sitting in my account, Mr Doings was very well connected and I constantly found myself in the kind of social circles I used to dream of, he also took good care of me, few months ago I never thought i'll get to wear a wig of 100K for instance.
It's been three months since my first date with him and I noticed some things about him. For one, he was extremely possessive and a very jealous man. The first red light was when he asked me to break up with my boyfriend. We had just finished showering together in his penthouse and I was watching Entertainment weekly, draped in his bathrobe and toweling my hair when my phone rang and my screen showed I had an incoming call from Abobo my boyfriend.
We spoke for a couple of minutes. He was missing me, he wanted to know when would I come to Jos, how come I didn't text or call like before, bla bla bla....at the end of the call he said; "I love you"
"I love you too" I replied automatically.
Mr. Doings was slumped in the bean bag chair, surfing on his laptop and I felt him tense and look in my direction.
Immediately I dropped the call he said, "who was that?"
"its my boyfriend"
"your boyfriend? You have a boyfriend? So what am I?"
"Ah Ah....you're my baby now," I was a little baffled at first but then I decided it was sweet. He was a little jealous. I got up and swayed seductively to were he sat, letting the robe hang open and catch his eyes like I knew it would. "you're my baby..." I leaned over, intending to give him a sloppy kiss but he turned his face and I kissed his cheek instead. He didn't talk to me much or touch me that day, until I was prepared to leave and then he credited me with times 2 of the amount he was supposed to send me.
"Oh my God, baby! Thank you so much!" I squealed and grabbed him in a hug
He stiffened and didn't return the hug.
"What's wrong baby, what did I do?" I pouted my lips and widened my eyes.
"I want you to break up with your boyfriend." He looked me deep in the eye and I saw a mixture of emotions dart across his features.
"Oh......" I was basically speechless. Maybe I didn't love Abobo but he was my boyfriend, we were even in the second year of our relationship even thought it wasn't that great.
There was some irony in my sugar-daddy demanding I break up with my boyfriend but I wasn't finding it funny at the time. Still I smiled, "baby we're so far apart sef so its not really a big deal-"
"Just do it Jessy." It was weird hearing an edge in his shrill voice.
I smiled sweetly. "Okay hunny, whatever you say."
Rule 1 of the Runs business; always keep the money source happy.
Back at home I discussed it with Fifi. "Mr D said I should break up with Abobo!"
"And so? who Abobo help?"
"But he's my boyfriend"
"Abegi which yeye boyfriend. Can Abobo send you urgent 50....let's not even go that far ordinary 10k like this like this..?"
I was silent for some seconds while I thought of the excuse. "He is still a student naw.."
"Exactly! See its a no brainer. I wonder what you're even asking me for, girl drop that broke nigga like a bad habit"
"hmmm.....okay, I think I'll do it"
"Another thing....when you're with him, is he always saying things like, you're mine, you belong to me, your pussy is mine alone?"
She chuckled, "ah ah is that what he used to say?"
I forced a laugh, "yes o...everytime, I'm tired sef."
Fifi sighed and when she looked at me I couldn't read her expression. "Everytime I chat him up, he's always asking about you...it's always Jessy this, Jessy that, where's Jessy? Nawa o.....I even offered to come see him and he turned me down that he wants you."
I swallowed a little and laughed nervously, "hope he won't get tired of me soon sha"
Fifi remained with a poker face for 10 awkward seconds before she said, "Hmmm i'm jealous o, I wish I had one big fish in my pocket like you."
We laughed it off and I didn't think too much about what she said or how she had looked.
But 2 months down the line it had become another row on the disadvantage column. Mr Doings didn't look like he was getting tired of me anytime soon and Fifi was clearly unhappy about it. Her feelings had gone through phases also; at first she was happy for me, then a little surprised when the dough continued rolling in, then she became jealous....but still jealous in the good-natured friend kind of way.
When jealousy becomes envy, there's a problem. I wonder when exactly it all changed but I couldn't put a finger on it. I guess it accumulated over time, and the little signs I dismissed were more important than I had thought. Fifi was always saying she couldn't believe I had "hit it big" on my first try. She on the other hand had to occassionally maintain her online profiles where she got most of her dates from. I knew her lowest price standard was 30 thousand for a night but she had few high profile clients that crossed the 100k mark for a night occassionally and Mr Doings had been the top of the bunch. And I had stolen him away. And to add insult to injury, I had been spoiled silly. I mean, I couldn't even imagine myself getting down with anybody for 30k a night. Plus her instagram was logged in my phone, I went through her messages one night she was away and was shocked to find out she had agreed 15k. As in fifteen.
So in retrospect I could understand her envy better and even sympathise with her. She was out almost every night, fucking strangers for 30k while I stayed home watching netflix and well, chilling. Then Mr D would take me for a boat ride, or maybe a comedy show or celebrity party or somewhere fun for the weekend and I came back with 150 or 200k. Not to talk of the many dispatch riders that turned up at our door on a daily, all with gifts from Mr. Doings. From lacy lingerie, to expensive silk, wigs, shoes and even gadgets. Mr D had pimped the hell out of me, I was classy, sexy and always looking good. Fifi was sexy too, she was thicker than me with very nice hips and her jumpsuits always flattered her curves. She was sexy all right. But there was no denying it, when we walked into a room all eyes were on me, and all eyes usually remained on me.
I was always a little shy and uncertain about the swift changes and whenever she made an observation I usually replied with a self depreciating comment, all cause I was trying so hard not to ruffle her feathers. Fifi was like my elder sister. 4 years my senior, we had been neighbours till her military father got transferred and her family moved to Lagos. We kept in touch and while I was waiting for admission and post-Utme, she was the one who had extended the invitation to me, said she lived alone and we will have so much fun together.
She handled the house rent, feeding and bills all on her own until she got fed up and approached me about it and I became caught up in the lifestyle. It seemed like years ago already. So much had changed within 3 months.
Want to know why i'm sitting in the living room at 11pm, staring at a muted television and thinking these specific thoughts? Want to know what triggered my trip down memory lane? I'll tell you. You see I stayed up late last night binge watching game of thrones and when Fifi came back by 6am I had only retired to bed an hour earlier. She spent about an hour banging the gate, calling my phone and shouting my name all to no avail. I was deep in la la land. When I finally woke up and opened the gate, apologizing profusely, she was like a tiger. She slapped me hard....twice, but that was nothing. She was bigger than me and if she really wanted, she would give me a serious beating. But it was her words that hurt me the most. She threw the most vile curses at me, spitting horrible curses at me. Shouting so the whole building could hear her voice. And the way she looked that moment.....with her hair in disarray from the night, her make up undone, she must have been tired and furious and had me backing into a corner like a cowed puppy
"I've been watching you since! What have you been feeling like you this ratched thing! you've become too big right? oh you're now feeling like the finest girl in the world. Have you forgotten where you come from you this bush girl! No amount of foundation will hide your poverty stricken background, I took you under my wing, fed you, clothed you, introduced you to the lifestyle but now your wings have come out and you think you're bigger than me. You ungrateful bitch!" The last exclamation was her palm landing a third slap.
I continued to apologize while wondering where the outburst had come from. Her words had cut me to my very soul, I was deeply hurt and I'm not proud of it but I stayed in my room crying and sniffling until she went out again tonight, then I came to the parlour, put the Tv on mute and began scheming.
I might be a little naive but I wasn't a fool. I knew the dynamics of our relationship had changed. I was no longer the little girl she gave advice and sex tips anymore, I probably had more money than she had right this moment and she couldn't believe and understand it. Neither could I
But one thing I was sure of, what happened that morning wouldn't be the last time that much I was sure of. I had been walking on egg shells for weeks and the first crack that morning had deeply hurt my pride. Which brought me to my decision. I had to leave Fifi. Stay on my own, get my own place.
But how? I had to live on the island or really close to it and a self-con in the locations I had in mind would cost anything from 500k - 2million naira. Not to talk of furnishing.
Hmmmm.......what to do? I didn't want to stay with Fifi till I could comfortably rent my own place but it was looking like that was the only choice I had. That is if she didn't kill me first.
What of Mr Doings? I thought suddenly. That was an angle to explore, I could ask him to help me get a place......yeah that could work. Afterall he was always saying things like he'd do anything for me and give me the world. I usually never really took it too deep but the Fifi's slaps must have reset something cause now that I really took my time to think about it, I realized that he really would do anything for me. What did Fifi say the other day, "I wish I had a big fish in my pocket like you." I don't know what it was, whether love, infatuation or obsession, maybe a combination of all 3, but somehow I had managed to get Mr. D without even trying to get him or being aware.
My phone gave a shrill beep, invading my sinister thoughts.
"Speak of the devil...." I smiled as I answered the devil.
"Oh Jess love, I had a really stressful day flying in a helicopter all day from one point to another but all I could think of was you...."
"Baby I miss you too....I can't wait for the weekend. I'll be wearing the teddy you got for me"
"Oh sweet Jesus. Jessy I fucking love you-"
That made me smile for the first time that day and I suddenly felt more confident, felt more mature. And what's more, I felt in control and I made my decision on the spot. I knew what I wanted and so help me God I was going to go for it.
Mr D was apparently very busy during the week collecting whatever it was he collected and he only had his weekends available for me. That had been the terms he had laid out and I had accepted all too eagerly.
But now for the first time ever I made the request. I made the first move.
"Baby," I interrupted him in mid sentence as he was talking about what he had planned for the weekend. "I want to see you tonight. I want to see you right now"
"is anything wrong, are you okay?" he sounded worried and I smiled a little manipulative smile. Wow, this was easy.
"I miss you too much, I can't wait till Saturday."
"But babe you know i'm really swamped, it's already Thursday. I have somewhere I have to be very early tomorrow, I planned to go to bed after hearing your voice."
"So what are you saying? You don't want to see me?" My voice was a mixture of sadness, disappointment and anger. I loved it.
"arrrrrrgh....errrrrrrmmmm......hmmmmmm......you know if I had my way I'll see you everyday. Eh my love"
I remained silent.
"My love?.......okay , okay....I guess we can make it work. Let me make some calls, my driver will come pick you in 30 mins and bring you to Bohemian Blue Hotel. I'll be in our usual suite."
"ooh baby you're the best, love you." I purred into the receiver.
I fingered the strands of my Brazilian hair as I thought of my plan. It was quite straight forward, I was going to give him a good massage, Bleep his brains out and I was going to get my house. Oh yes.
There was a confident spring in my step as I went to the bathroom to wash up and get ready. I knew just what to wear. Fifi had said I was going to be badder than her. I was going to show her just how bad.
9 Likes 2 Shares
|Re: Securing The Bag (The Lagos Hustle) by Ann2012(f): 2:22am On Jan 25|
Thanks for the update
|Re: Securing The Bag (The Lagos Hustle) by udoekere: 2:17pm On Jan 25|
This life ehn enno just balance...when an old man is spoiling a little girl with money the feel on top of the world.they won't even have time for guys of their age but when they get older they will now turned to the once broke guys she once rejected for marriage.
Moral lesson: always keep in touch with the broke guys �����
Nice one op
|Re: Securing The Bag (The Lagos Hustle) by YoungBruzzy: 5:44pm On Jan 25|
I really feel for Jessy sha, that poor girl undergoing such lifestyle in that stage of her life.. Buh what do i know, may God airpus
Thanks OP for this fantabulous update.. More ink to you pen.. Keep it coming pls
|Re: Securing The Bag (The Lagos Hustle) by Doubra12(m): 8:17pm On Jan 26|
Nice updates oga soul. I can't wait to see the thug's point of view. More ink to your pen.
|Re: Securing The Bag (The Lagos Hustle) by Reuben700: 11:54pm On Jan 26|
Nice story you got please try to mention me next time
The part I love is kanaku
|Re: Securing The Bag (The Lagos Hustle) by JustCruise(m): 8:42am On Jan 27|
Nice update. please mention me whenever you update. Thanks
Chimamanda Adichie At Chatham House London, Delivered Keynote Address (Pics) / Chimamanda Adichie Wins Grand Women’s Prize For Half Of A Yellow Sun (Photo) / Soyinka: Much Ado About Plane Seats By Deji Yesufu
Viewing this topic: jupitre(m)
|Sections: politics (1) business autos (1) jobs (1) career education (1) romance computers phones travel sports fashion health |
religion celebs tv-movies music-radio literature webmasters programming techmarket
Nairaland - Copyright © 2005 - 2021 Oluwaseun Osewa. All rights reserved. See How To Advertise. 512