ChikaSunday's Posts
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chimere66:This administration met no money at govt coffers, yet they keep spending excess money to acquire military/naval warfare hardware to fight the Niger-Delta Militants, and yet the govt can't provide cheap food, water, low-cost transportation, low-cost electricity, low-cost health services, no technology base etc. If the president lacks school cert is there no graduate among his cabinet or he doesn't listen to them? Are there no psychologists, sociologists and economists in this administration? Why is it that each step they take there is no single creativity for the benefit of the masses? I have never visited or read of a country whose leaders carry out their governance at the expence of the masses who have been pressed on the wall and have no one to cry to. |
HQuadreal:Hmmm, no wonder, my guy no fit play better ball again like before under Keshi! Dis babe don zizapu all his this thin this thin... |
ENDTIMEgist:Dear OP, I'm an actor, creative writer/script writer and an up-coming producer. When I sell a script to a producer, the script belongs to the producer and it is left for the producer and his choosen director to decide what they do with the script and who to use, they only maintain my name as the script writer. However, a producer & his director may seek your opinion of the mental picture of the whole/part scenes or presumed cast of the movie but the producer's decision is final because he is the one spending the money for everything involved. The writer can only have power over which cast to use if the shooting/production is a business collaboration between him and the producer: director no even get power most times except he is part of the collaboration. Check my profile and contact me for your writing, acting and production services. Cheers dear. |
YOU NEVER CAN TELL CHAPTER 3 Ngozi studied harder and she never failed a course. She was determined to come out first class at her final level, at least to make him happy. Faced with the difficulties of the common Nigerian University, she was never dismayed. There was this guy that never allowed her a breathing space. He was handsome and heavily built. With his height and build he didn’t find it hard to be in the school Basketball team. He had made a lot of overtures but he always met a stumbling block in Ngozi. To make the case serious they were in the same department. He would even make out space for her whenever he comes to class earlier than she could. Ngozi refused to let him know where she lived, but he was smart enough to find out where she lived; and that she lived alone. “What the hell!” he had exclaimed that day after such an energy exhausting research. Yet it did not pay off. She was in the Bus one day, heading towards the market. She had finished the days lecture and headed home immediately. But on getting home with the intestinal worms hitting her intestinal walls furiously, she had rushed to the pots unsuccessfully. She had opened them one after the other. They were three to be precise, but the two big ones were shining and as empty as the word empty, “Holy Mary!” she had exclaimed, as she felt more rumblings in her stomach. She rushed the third pot with alacrity. It was smaller and it contained about six tablespoons of cold beans that she had left over in the morning. So this is what I left in the morning, she brooded forlornly. It took her an unimaginable speed to scoop everything into her waiting mouth. She had checked the room sharply to find out that she needed ground-nut oil, palm- oil and some other ingredients to make a new stew and a local soup that day. Thus she rushed to the market. As she made efforts to pay the bus conductor, the conductor _ Ebony black, with afro hair style and well trimmed side boards – looked sharply at her, shook his head and blurted: “No worry, dem don pay for you.” Confused, she asked, “Who pay for me?” And the conductor pointed to her back as the big basketball player smiled wolfishly with a grin. “Your guy don pay for you” he summed up, extending his collection to the other passengers. She looked back and discovered her Good Samaritan. “Ben,” she held out her fare, “So you have been here. Thank you, but I have my fare with me.” “Who says, you don’t. Only a neurotic bumpkin would board a bus without putting into consideration his T-fare (as it’s commonly used by students) and I don’t believe you’ve made yourself one,” he rapped. “Thank you all the same,” she looked towards the conductor, “But I insist on paying my T-fare” “Forget it,” he said. “It means nothing. Maybe I surprised you, but just keep your money and it would make everyone happy. Where are you going? Your face tells me, it’s somewhere important,” he asked swapping the topic. “Well, I’m going to the market,” she said as she heaved a sigh of defeat. “I hope it’s not the one that I’m going to,” he implored. He later found out they were heading towards the same market. Though they were supposedly bound for different segments of the market, he had initiated the move to go down her lane with her, knowing fully well that she didn’t need his help. But against all odds, he had followed her. In spite of all these, Ngozi never change her mind, and all Ben could get from her was: “My dear lover boy, I know how hard you’ve tried, at least to get a pass mark. I like your wits. To be frank, I have to tell you this,” she had said standing akimbo. “You’ve got the looks, the idiosyncrasies and all other qualities that would have made me succumb to your advances, but I can’t help it. I have got the best guy who has no equal in all ramifications of life. There isn’t anything I’ve seen which will separate me from him, not even you. I hope you understand. And I wish you a nice girl – perhaps better than me _ in your future adventure. So long Ben,” she had rounded off leaving him stoned with his mouth agape, as he found it hard to believe that a great treasure was fast eluding him. “Kai,” he had fumed a little later, “So I‘ve been chasing the wind all long.” That was how she was: Hard and determined, even when the risk was touch- and- go. Grab your copy here http://www.lulu.com/shop/view-cart.ep Written By Felix Chika-Sunday +2348032606847, +2348114735145
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YOU NEVER CAN TELL SYNOPSIS Nature has a way of twisting our lives: sometimes positively and sometimes negatively against our wish. They were meant to be for each other: Chuks and Ngozi. Set in the military era of the 80’s and 90’s in Nigeria, it started while they were still in the cocoons of life in Ijehon Primary School at Umunede when Chuks was the school general monitor. As they separated into different secondary schools their love unfolded like the Shakespearian Romeo and Juliet tale. Just when their romance was getting to climax, Chuks having become a young medical doctor lands himself in an abortion quagmire, and subsequently ended up in a military incarceration. Those days freedom of speech was almost in-existence; lawyers had tough times rescuing victims from police nets much worse venturing into military barracks. While Chuks languished in the military dungeon and all hopes of hearing from him or wishfully seeing him vanished, Paul a handsome chemical Engineer working in an oil firm and hailing from the same village as Chuks and Ngozi comes breezing in. He had the face, the education the charm and the greatest factor, money. Ngozi resisted his advances but after almost two years and other age mates getting married who wouldn’t bulge? Marriage takes place and Ngozi joins her husband in Port-Harcourt. A little while, they are transferred to Lagos, and a little, while Chuks was released to face reality. A little while, another death hits Ngozi, death having visited earlier before she gained admission to study law at L.A.S.U. Now the stage is set: reality hits Chuks in the village and after much tears he relocates to Lagos to gather all the broken pieces of his life: Ngozi, a mother of two now becomes childless: would they meet again? If they meet how would it be? Until one divulges the book to the end these questions have no answers. It is comical; it is romantic; it is tragic; It is emotional; it is a thriller… YOU NEVER CAN TELL BY FELIX CHIKA-SUNDAY A book writer, movie script/screenplay writer, article writer, concept and content developer and an actor. +2348032606847, +2348114735145 Grab your copy here: http://www.lulu.com/shop/view-cart.ep
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seizethaBae:If you really need help and you are a sincere person I will ask you 5 questions. If you ar ready for the questions check my profile and call me(pls dnt flash) before 9:45am tomorrow Tuesday morning. Cheers |
ShutdownBrown24:Whoever hates this Legend is a demon, and may that person's candle quench suddenly. Say amen if you love 2Baba. |
euchaaria:Eucheria, google d company website; forward d mail 2 d company official e-mail adress, d HR adress, including all other senior staff e-mail addresses; also if possible 2 their official twitter, facebook account, phone numbers. Option two: if u know u ar clean then take d company's name, d man's e-mail address 2 ur prayer alta and tell God: Heavenly Father, God Almighty, I know I'm unprofited servant, but if this company is a workplace u hv designated 4 me 2 work let me be granted employment without passing through this man & 20% of my 1st salary shall be urs and I will come back 2 this altar an dance 2 u Lord. Continue the prayer night & day and expect something 2 happen but Ignore d mail request. Option three 4gt d man & his company and find out who u are(ur natural talents/skills/abilties) and build it. U can call me if u dnt know how 2 find out who u are and building it. |
papaejima1:I thought GEJ did not buy weapons? So which ones have they been selling? |
divinehand2003:For this patriotic act I move the motion that all uncle Dino's national sins be forgiven. Who will second/support the motion, say, 'Aye'. |
teekol:keep a jotter and a biro on ur table. Load up to #500 credit on ur phone and then call me 2nite or 9am 2mrow morning. My numbers are in my profile. |
teekol:put a jotter & a biro on d table, load up to #500 credit on ur phone and call me. My numbers ar in my profile. |
robay:Like Amina, like minister of sports, like minister of finance, like others, like their oga: No knowledge abt their job entails, no direction: just a bunch of ignoramuses occupying space, wasting tax payers money and time, tcheeeew. |
bodejohn:Don't mind him: he is one of those who have lost their culture, language to the whiteman's. Iberibe |
iamVirus:Tuface, 10 miles ahead of others.... |
iamVirus:Tuface, 10 miles ahead of others.... |
Islie:Buhari, Adeosun, the chairman of this commission and the entire federal executive council have proven again and again the umpteenth time that they ALL lack COMMON SENSE, VISION & CREATIVITY if making life difficult for the people they lead is the only way they will continue to OCCUPY SPACE at their offices. I wonder how they graduated from higher institutions of learning: did they hire people to write ALL their exams for them? Nonsense! |
Hello, fellow Nairalanders. Great evening to all members and free readers. You may be tired of the kind of local movies you see on your TV screens these days. It's due to the same cook, the same utensils, the same ingredients, the same style. But are you out there searching for that good creative writer to turn your ideas and foresight into spellbounding, entertaining and educative stories and scripts/screenplays? Are you tired of your numerous old writers? Are you willing to pay good value for good captivating creative write-up? Then you have me: I am near you: once I can think it, I can create it. Beep my phone lines in my profile and my facebook contact. Felix Chika-Sunday |
Aisha's eyelids twitched, her eyeballs red, her lips curled, her incisors like fangs flashed, her fingers turned-paws flashed and Seun dropped dead. |
Vatsyayana:Are you sure you don't miss him? |
Kolababe:Me, as an actor, script writer and an upcoming producer that I am, I won't try this. |