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Can someone help me drag ishilove here? I miss her. Just a comment from ishilove and it will make my day.

NidaxJ:
oga flow no kill person fr here ooooo......
STILL I LAUGH

And STILL I AM HAPPY YOU ARE LAUGHING.

hayzey:
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......

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.

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stuff46:
God bless you for sharing this.

Bless you too.

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.

omortoyosi01:
Eeeeeeeeeeeehhhhhhhgg
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

God bless you for reading my stories! I'm honoured.

bobby5o5:
oga flow if no be you who else men i feel you

I am glad I am making you happy.

But you don vote?

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NidaxJ:
lwkmd.......

More laughter ahead

girlhaley:
Lol


This sb na bad pikin


Na so u dey sweat for your family


God go forgive you


Waiting!

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!

“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.

Osman1996:
lol make person. no piss thank God I don eat b4 reading Na sweat of piss

You no go piss.

U don vote? https://fidelitybank.ng/mytoughjobstory/index.php/ugochukwu/

“Me?” I answered.

“no me! My friend where is the thing he gave you to keep for me?” He coughed.

“Sorry sir!"

"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.

“Music! How?”

“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!”

“Nose?”

“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?”

“yes!”

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.

ERF:
I made the VOTES 141...

Ride on oo... Always following!

Thank you brother!

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.

“Me?”

“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?”

“Sorry sir!”

“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?”

vickkydgreat:
Keep it up man...av vote

Thank you!

Osman1996:
I just vote back making it 140 votes still I follow u make una no crack man ribs

You be correct! Thanks for voting! Pls tell your friends.

Make una go vote for me na! Na beg i dey beg oh! I go cry oh!

See the link here: https://fidelitybank.ng/mytoughjobstory/index.php/ugochukwu/ Vote by clicking the love sign at the bottom of the page, thats all! Thank you.

Melancholy:
Affection and laughter makes life a happy one. Flow1759 i greet u o

I greet you too! Merry Christmas and a happy new year in advance.

“Brother I don tayah oh! My waist dey pain me!” I complained one night at the hangout.

“really! Your waist ehennnnn!” Brother Wale said, “your waist will stop paining you when there will be no school fees for you next term”

“but Brother I have tried na! I am tired!” Smoke from the fire attacked my eyes.

“you are tired ehnnnn! Do you know how much we have made today?”

“no! I don’t know!”

“we have made just two hundred naira!” He informed.

“Ahaann! It’s a lie!”

“How dare you call me a liar? How dare you?” He stood up.

“Me? Did I call you a liar?”

“Then what did you just say?” He raised his voice.

“I talk say me I be liar!” I confessed.

But why brother Wale! We sold at worst two thousand naira that night I was sure. Deep down I knew Brother Wale’s best friend Brother Igboh would take a greater percentage of the night’s sale.



“Brother Where are you going to?” I asked.

“Why are you asking me?” He queried.

“Because I am my brother’s keeper!” I answered.

“Brothers keeper! The only thing you should keep right now is that bean cake on fire!” He walked out.

I knew he was going to - he was going to visit his best friend Brother Igboh. It was this same brother Igboh that made him carried a generator on his head to the market preaching the gospel – Gospel according to Igboh I suppose.

It was a bright Saturday afternoon and Brother Wale had just returned from Brother Igboh’s house situated by the bush part where Igboh kwenu the seller stayed.

“I have head ache!” He complained, “get me water!”

In the kitchen, Maami asked me if Brother Wale was back from his friend’s place, I said yes.

“here is the cup of water!” I offered.

“thank you! Have you eaten?” He asked.

“Yes I have! Your own food is in the kitchen!” I said, “brother there something I want to tell you oh!”

“SB my man!! what is it?” At such time he was very caring.

“ehnn, My school sandal is old, I want another one!”

“ok! How much will it cost to buy another one?”

“one thousand naira sir!” I answered.

“okay I will give you the money tomorrow!” He promised, but he and I knew the promise was prompted by the brother Igboh in him.

“thank you brother Wale!”

As I bent down to pick the cup to return it to the kitchen, Brother Wale stood up and ooh my world! I thought he wanted to land an award winning knock on my head; the kind they call “konk” in pidgin.

That wasn’t what he stood up to do; he stood up and walked towards Baba Bisi’s I-Pass-My-Neighbour generator, he put it off, picked a nearby board, placed the board on his head and next the generator was on his head with the board as the base.

“Brother Wale! Is everything okay?” I shouted.

“You be m’umu oh, your brother don dey mad you dey here dey ask whether everything is okay!” I thought someone whispered to me.

“E fit be say na the water wey you give am nahim cause am oh!” The voice sounded like Yemi’s.

“How water go make person mad?” I spoke out.

“water and Igboh na madness oh!” The voice must sure be devil’s.

“Maami! Maami! Maami!” I ran into the kitchen.


As I and Maami ran in search of where brother Wale and the generator might be, we met Yellow on our way.

“Your Brother stand for near market dey preach to the market women oh!” Yellow said, “him dey n’aked, all the small children dey laugh am!”

“How you take know say him dey n’aked?” I needed to know.

“person wey no wear any cloth no be n’akedness be that?”

“so why you no give am clothe make him wear na?” I queried.

“I get clothe? so na this my boxers I go pull give am abi? So that me sef go dey n’aked abi?” Yellow said, “but sha all the clothe wey them take cover him body, him dey troway them!”

I thought my mother stood hearing all what my friend Yellow said, but as I looked left, I saw that she was nowhere to be found.

“Maami wait for me!” I chased after her.

“So Brother Wale don let everybody see him n’akedness after him don hide am make I no see am? Me wey be him brother? Today I must see that him na’kedness wey him don dey hide from me since” I was lost in my thought.

All of a sudden I collided with something and another something poured me.

“you no dey look where you dey go?” Mama Luku the palm oil seller said.

“Sorry Ma!” I saw that I had been baptized with palm oil.

“you must pay for my oyel oh!” She held my shirt.

“I go pay!” I empty promised.

“oya bring the money!” Mr. Macho was so quick to punch me to the jaw. He had appeared from nowhere.

“Yeah my mouth oooh! Brother Luku wetin I do you?” I cried.

“Bring the money for the oyel now!” He thundered.

“I no get am here! E dey house!”

“you no get am here abi!” Brother Luku let out another punch that spun my head like a big wheel.

Then I was on ground, and I was dumb too.

“get up come fight me na!” Brother Luku was the Heavy weight Champion the neighbourhood boosted of.

As I lied on the ground I recalled I had an outstanding beef with Brother Luku for plucking Mangoes from the mango tree in front of their compound without his permission.

“I am sorry!” I managed to say.

“Sorry for yourself!” He tapped my head and i heard them left.

For Forty minutes I was lying on the ground like the man beaten by thieves in Jericho’s road in the parable of the Good Samaritan yet there was no Samaritan to come help me up.

Children surrounded me and laughed. “na una papa una dey laugh!” I cursed.


When I got home Maami was shocked and she personally gave me a clean bath promising to pay for the palm oil I poured. When I asked her where Brother Wale was and she told me he had been admitted in the hospital I smiled again.

I smiled because my “best friend” wasn’t mad after all.





“take this thing! Wale said you should take it home for him!” Brother Emeka handed over a parcel to me as I closed business for that night.
I could feel from touching the parcel that what was inside was nothing but Brother Igboh.

tomzee2:
Lolz waiting for more...... Feed me more

Vote me more too

The first Christmas I spent without Maami was hell. On Christmas eve while my friends were shooting Knockout here and there I was busy at the bean cake hangout; I and brother Wale of course.

“Have you eaten?” Brother Wale showed a little care for his younger brother since the death of General Sani Abacha.

“I am not hungry!” The only hanger in me was to go join my friends.

“Give me Akara hundred naira!” Brother Okon ordered.

“Brother Okon you don buy another Okada?” I asked as I served him.

“Yes oh! This one na Simba no be jincheng, I don sell that my jincheng” He smiled.

That Jincheng motorcycle really suffered. I remember when Brother Wale was learning how to ride. It was a sunny Sunday afternoon and we three set for the football pitch where the learn-how-to-ride classes was to hold featuring Brother Wale as the student, Brother Okon as the teacher and yours truly SB as the water boy a.k.a the on looker.

Classes had not started and Brother Wale already needed water to drink.

“here na the truttle! Hold am well” Brother Okon said.

“Ok I don hold am! I fit move now?” Brother Wale was eager to move.

“Ok I go leave am now! You go move by yourself! Try make you hold the head well oh!”


The Motor Cycle meandered so much that I pitied my beloved brother. The boys playing football in the pitch laughed so hard that I was so p’issed and I yelled, “wetin una dey laugh?”.

Soon our Brother Wale was heading to an unknown destination.

“Stop am! Stop am!” Brother Okon yelled.

“e no gree stop oh!” Brother Wale cried.

“Yeeah! Him dey drive enter bush ooh!” One of the boys playing football laughed. Brother Wale was the football they were playing at that moment; they all stopped to fetch a cup of laughter from the ocean Brother Wale provided.

“Match the brake! Match the brake!” Brother Okon yelled.

Instead of the motorbike to reduce in speed, it increased. I closed my eyes and said a prayer to God that Brother Wale shouldn’t collide with the electric pole ahead of him.

As I opened my eyes, I saw that somehow brother managed to escape that electric pole, next he was heading to the bush.

How cruel of Brother Okon; he cared not of the life of my elder brother but that his motorbike remained intact. “My Okada! My Okada!” He shouted as we chased Brother Wale and the bike.

I saw that there was another electric pole not too far from Brother Wale. “My brother! My brother!” I cried running ahead of the beast Brother Okon.

And…………………

The worst happened; the bike hit the electric pole, then Brother Wale fell off rolling down the hill.

“Brother Wale!” I cried.

He was rolling down the hill like he was acting a Hollywood movie. I thought it was film trick.

“Brother Wale!” I cried out.

“see this guy don spoil my okada!” I heard Brother Okon said as I sloped down the hill after Brother Wale.

On getting to the bottom of the hill………………… “Brother Wale where are you?” I cried.

Legend has it that rocks are displaced by the wind from the top of the hill and they roll down the hill especially in October.

October 4th was the day I thought Brother Wale would die.

“Brother Wale where are you!” Tears rolled down.

What came to my mind was that I would be orphan alone; I would stay alone in that big house. All my love ones where gone, I would be the love one to myself, the mother to myself, the father to myself and the Brother Wale to myself. I would prepare bean cakes myself, Axe the wood myself, sell the bean cakes myself, I would go to the farm and work all day alone, cultivate alone, sell, spend the money alone and at night I would sleep in the dark room with the cockroaches alone.

“If Brother Wale die, who will I lie to occasionally?” I said to myself as I searched for his body.

“Who will spank me when I go wrong?”

“Who will teach me to be a man?”

“Who will knock my head when I err? Who?”

“Brother Wale where are you?” I cried with a loud voice.

“I am here!” I thought I heard an angel.

“Where are you?”

“I am over here!” I could locate where the voice sounded from.

Lying like a helpless baby was Brother Wale and he was seemingly not hurt.

“Are you okay Brother?”

“I am okay!” He stood up. I was shocked.

“Are you sure?” For clarity sake.

“I said I okay!” He raised his voice, “And why are you crying?”

“Me? Crying?”

“yes na! see tears in your eyes”

“Okay! Something entered my eyes! An ant” Linus Seyi Bobo.

“Brother I am happy you are okay oh!”

“yes I am okay, just that my trouser tore”

“You said?”

“I said, my trouser tore”

I bent down and saw that his trouser sustained the injury he was supposed to sustain, then I laughed.

“hahahahahahahaha!”

“kpoooooo!” a knock landed on my head.

Uthman51:
u made my day flow

people wet dey inside bus dey look me like madman as I dey laugh

I'm very happy i did. And i promise to always

girlhaley:
Nice update but please we need more

Welldone ooo,aburo boda wale

I will try! Just that i am always busy lately. You done vote?

Since Wale Ajibade’s graduation from school with a third class degree in English language he never stopped telling anyone that cared to listen that his Head of Department in school robbed him of his deserving first class degree all because he wanted his girlfriend and he fought fiercely for the love of his life Onyinye. Brother Wale’s love for Onyinye resulted to the scar he carries in his four head.

He had told us at home that he fought with the cult guy who also wanted Onyinye so fiercely that he feels he injured the guy more than the guy injured him. What he narrated as what he did to the cult guy sounded like c’ock and bull to me, I knew he was telling a big fat lie; the Brother Wale I know is so lily livered that in the process of him hurting a fly a fly would strangle him.

I remember the day he and his friend Brother Emeka fought in the bush, ask me what made them fight? Handsomeness!

“I am more handsome than you jor! You that have big lips!”

“I agree! My big lips makes the girls love me more, I kiss better you know!” Brother Emeka returned.

“You kiss better! And Kemi your girl friend is interested in me!” Brother Wale boasted.

“eheeeeen! You are the one that have been brain washing that girl that makes her lose interest in me, okwaaa ya?” Brother Emeka’s mouth was ajar.

“she says she want me, so was I to say no?”

Before I looked down to see what itched my right leg, fight don start.

“Help! Help! They are fighting!” I wished other farmers were close by.

Like Mohammed Ali, Brother Emeka swayed round and round perfectly like he had little knowledge of boxing, sorry I forgot! His father was a boxer when he was younger.

“I will finish you!” Brother Emeka let out one punch that struck Brother Wale in the jaw. Soon another to the same spot and from where I stood I saw that Brother Wale's jaw grew longer.

“you think say you fit fight me abi? I go just beat you turn-turn!” Brother Emeka threatened.

“you can not beat me turn-turn!” Can somebody please help me tell Brother Wale that in Nigeria the language fighting understands isn’t English language but pidgin?

I had barely winked and I could barely believe my eyes! Brother Wale was back to the ground screaming “Help! Help!”

“Who go help you? Me?” I thought of taking to my heels but as I heard, “I don die ooh!” I knew it was time I showed I was a loving brother.

“leaving my brother alone oooh!” I was virtually dancing round the fighting ring.

“where I go start from? Abi make I blow him head?” I asked myself these questions about fifty times.

In no time I was grabbing Brother Emeka by the waist.

“Will you leave me?” Brother Emeka yelled.

“I will not leave you until you leave my brother!” I acted superman.

The only thing I remembered was that sledge hammer struck my nose and I flew like Virgin Atlantic about 100 metres away crashing like Sosoliso on top a vegetable bed.


Then I was dreaming. I was dreaming of fried fish.

I dreamt I was celebrating my birthday with fried fishes I fried myself.

“Yellow! Take two fish!” I was serving my friends.

“Yemi, you take four!”

“Ikenna, you take two!”

Then I stood with the tray of fishes in front of “Brutus the glutton”.

“Debo you take only one!”I commanded.

“how I go take only one? Wetin I do you?”

“I say take only one! na your birthday?” I yelled.

Debo hissed and took one as commanded, but as I turned to serve the next person, he swiftly grabbed the tray of fishes from me and fled.

“My fish! My fish!” My fish!” I chased after him.

“My fish! My fish! My fish………………………”

“spaaaaaash!” Water splashed on me brought me back to reality.

“My fish! My fish! My……………………”

“your fish abi? That is why I poured you water, so swim and overtake your fish that has swam pass you! Lazy boy!”

“But I wanted to……………………………” I saw blood around brother Wale’s nose.

“will you shut up!” He thundered.

Zeeenas:
Nice story u've got flow1759. Seyi bobo don enter one chance b dat o 4 bro.wale hand. I've voted ur story nd i pray u win

Thank you! And don't forget to tell your friends too!

“I am not running sir! I want to carry my slippers” I said.

“so I sent you to give Christy my love food and you came to play ball”

“I did not play oh! I was just watching them!” I lied.

“you were just watching them and your legs are dirty?”

“Wale please leave the young man alone!” Christy said.

“leave him alone? Why should I? And where is the food I gave to you to give to her?” he asked me.

“It……… It…………… It don pour for ground oh! Is it not Debo that troway it for ground” I murdered English language.

“Debo troway it for ground abi? And what kind of English did you just speak?”

“English? I just speak English English!” I answered.

“Seyi bobo!” Aunty Christy hailed, “which one be English English again?”

“Mr. English English will you stand up from there and lets head to the farm!” Brother Wale ordered.

“Head! Lets head?” I told myself my head was in for a crash should I head Brother Wale's Titanic head.

“Yes! I said stand up and lets head to the farm.”

“but brother I don’t want to head oh! I have head ache” I cried.

“you have head ache eeeeh! Oya come let me help you massage the big head of yours”

“hahahahahaha!” Christy was laughing.

“why this one dey laugh? ugly girl!”

Truth be told Aunty Christy was beautiful, damn beautiful; the kind of beauty that could make a fish fly with a bird.


In the farm few minutes later I was seeing things! Yes I was seeing things.

As I bent down to cut bitter leaf, I was seeing things, I face cardinal point north south, I was still seeing things, I stood, I was still seeing things.

Sister Christy was putting on a very short gown that rises with the wind and her black p!ant caught my attention - I mean the main attention.

Her l’aps was as fresh as cucumber and yellow like Fanta. She noticed I was looking at her fresh l’aps so she turned and gave it all to me.

“Yeaaah! I don cut my hand with knife oh!” I cried.

“that serves you right! When you will not concentrate in what you are cutting!”

“leave the young man alone na!” Aunty Christy said.

“no mind am jor!” I said.

“you said what?” I saw fury in Brother Wale’s eyes.

“me? Say? I dey craze? Why I go say anything?” I heard Aunthy Christy laughed.

Few seconds and I was moving to the ridge close to where I could get 3D view of all Aunty Christy could offer.

“And what are you looking at?” Brother Wale caught my eyes.

“me? Looking? I am not looking anything oh! I am just thinking!”

“thinking of what?” He yelled.

“thinking of how I will write my exam tomorrow!” That was a big fat lie i said. Me! Think of how I will write exam? I dey craze? Writing examination wasn’t a problem to me at all; I had a formation of 4-4-2.

Dele played the right full back, Ikenna played the centre forward, Tobi played the role of the attacking mid fielder, Bola was the striker and of course I was always in the goal post to keep the goals.

I stood for a while thinking of the day I entered the exam hall loaded with "micro chips" and, “SB you dey add weight oh!” Ikenna said.

“yes na! I dey add weight because I dey eat better food na!” I returned.

“you sure?”

“why I no go sure? Abi na you get my body?” Tied around my body like a suicide bomber was "bombs"

Few seconds later…………… and I unveiled the bombs one after the other …………………………

“everybody lets clap hands for Seyi Ajibade as he leaves the exam hall, he has been caught cheating!” Mr. Akinyele the examiner announced.

I stood up and walked majestically out of the exam hall all smiles little did I know I was walking to my failure in mathematics.

Few seconds to the end of the exam, Mr. Akinyele was lenient enough to allow me back into the hall. To do what? Did I hear you ask? To write the exam of course.

Two seconds after I was allowed to enter the hall and I struggled with my pen to steal time to finish the two hours exam in just twenty seconds, and Yemi! Oh Yemi! What manner of friend?

“SB! SB! SB!” I heard Yemi called. I thought he was calling to give me an already answered sheet but Yemi! Oh Yemi!

“SB you don do number thirty?” He said.

“your father there!!”



“and whose father are you talking of?” I was back in reality.

“nobody ooh!” I answered.

“have you finished cutting the bitter leaf in that part of the farm?”

“Me? I dey cut Aunty Christy p’ant here oh!” I dared not said, “you no see as my thing don rise?” And indeed its been a while since my thing rose to that height. For it to rise for a crush of mine is worth it isn’t it?

A crush of mine and Brother Wale would not allow her be mine.

I remember the day brother Wale almost r’aped Aunty Christy in the farm, that was when Maami was still alive but she was not in farm that evening.

So many activities happened that evening; activities like I carried a big bag of water leaf on my head and it reduced my height by two inches, but that wasn’t important, I had defecated in the bush that evening because i had running stomach, but that wasn’t important, I had killed a snake that evening, but that wasn’t important. There was another snake, it was a big black snake, it came out of brother Wales’s trouser - it has been there for twenty eight years of his life.

“Seyi go and drop this bag of water leaf, and tie it before you return!” Commander commanded.

“But brother I still have more bags to pack home na!” I said.

“my friend will you obey before you complain! Drop that bag and don’t return till you tie the leaves!” I knew something was fishy.

I reached home, dropped the bag of water leaf as instructed and headed back to the farm to see what Brother Wale was up to with my crush.


“Lets do it fast!” Aunty Christy said.

“do what fast! I no go gree una!” I saw from the corner I stood that Brother Wale was really carrying an Anaconda in between his legs.

“See snake ooooh!” I yelled.

“where the snake?” Brother Wale was already afar while I enjoyed a close range view of Aunty Christy the movie.

Uthman51:
I dey gbadun u flow..

Thank you dear friend!

Make una no vex for the late update, i dey busy too much.

BTW The votes are not counting anything close to a reciprocate of the people viewing this story.

Abeg una, vote here: https://fidelitybank.ng/mytoughjobstory/index.php/ugochukwu/ click the "love" below the page and Volla! You don vote be that. Thank you in anticipation of your votes.

Wale Ajibade is the first son of the Ajibade farming Dynasty, he is 90 percent late Moses Ajibade and 9 percent late Stella Ajibade, the rest one percent attributes of what makes up the man Brother Wale is gotten from I Seyi Ajibade his younger brother – his only brother. He copied the way I walked, the way I talked, and of course my slangs; slangs like “Wadup” I always say that to my friends when we shake hands.

Most days Brother Wale puts on a gloomy face that made his face looked like the face carried by a frog, he rarely smiles, except when it rained the previous night, then in such days, he would smile all day. When it rains at night and I saw him smiling the next morning, I wouldn’t blame it on the wet bed we slept on that resulted from our leaking roof but on the fact that maybe he dreamt of Christiana Adibe his love.

Aunty Christy! Oh Aunty Christy! See what you have done to Brother Wale.

Brother Wale could go hungry all day and at night he would send me with a food flask to go give Christy and her elder sister Njideka some food to eat. I was not left out in the love story, I would go hungry or eat small rations just to make sure the always-hungry Christy is fed.


I remember Brother Wale giving a very hungry Seyi bobo (SB) food to deliver to his love Christy one afternoon.

“give this food to Christy” He ordered.

“but brother what of me, what will I eat?” I swallowed saliva.

“will you shut up and give her the food first! When you return the rice on fire will be done and we can eat. This one is for Christy my love”

“F’oolish love! You never chop na another person food you first put” I cursed within.

“what did you say?” I thought she heard me. “She” because Brother Wale had since Maami’s death became the proverbial “Woman wrapper”, always wrapping beans cakes every night to give to his love at home.

“say? I did not say anything oh!” I said the food is hot oh!” I spoke out.

“the food is hot, if you troway am for road troway yourself join with am” That was the first day I heard Brother Wale spoke Pidgin since he graduated from the university.


On my way to Aunty Christy’s house, I saw some of my friends playing football and I stopped to watch.

“SB come play for me I don tayah!” Bunmi said.

“but my brother send me na” I said.

“shey na only you get brother?” Imo said, “abeg come play ball jor!”

I left the food I was supposed to deliver by the side of the goal post and I was in the monkey post pitch in no time.

The most striking force in the monkey post football match that afternoon was no other but me. I had scored two goals and I had forgotten that I was famished.


“SB pass me the ball!” Yellow longed.

I wanted to pass the ball to Yellow God knows but Imo’s big head wasn’t giving me the clear view I needed, so I headed for the goal post.

I moved the ball to my left leg for a killer shot and “baaaa!” I fired the ball to the post. As my culture have it in such occasions, i shut my eyes to open only when the ball arrive its destination point.

As I opened my eyes, I saw nightmare.


Aunty Christy’s food was gone.

“SB you don troway your food” Yellow announced, and everyone burst into laughter.

“who tell you say na my food?” I denied.

“SB! Lie-Lie! Linus! No be you keep this food here?” Yemi said.

“Yeaaeeh! See big meat oh! I go chop am oh!” The gluttonous Debo proposed.

“Debo if you try am eenh!” I yelled.

“oohoooh! I think say you say no be you keep the food there?” Yellow said.

“I don die! Brother Wale go kill me eeeh!” I came close and saw the rice was all round sand infested.

“try make you see whether you go fit pack am na?” Yemi suggested

“pack wetin? You no see as san-san do full am?”

“abeg you fit still pack am jor! Make I help you pack am put for the food flask?” Debo offered, I guessed he meant putting it in his mouth not food flask.

Before I winked my eyes to chase away the tears that gathered lest my friends laughed at me should it fall, Debo had picked one piece of meat, then he was putting rice in his pocket.

“Debo!” I yelled.

“What? What I do?” He returned.

“I dey talk say I don die for Brother Wale hand, you dey here dey eat the food” I was sitting on the floor crying already.

“Hahaha! Him hey cry!” My friends laughed so hard.

I had just cried two rivers when Yemi said “see Brother Wale dey come!!”

“I thought he was pulling my dirty legs, but when I saw that they all fled one after the other, I looked up, lo and behold I saw Brother Wale and his lover walking towards me.

“eeeh! Don’t you run!” Brother Wale commanded.