₦airaland Forum

Michellla:
So first meet and they already banging,

Oh, don't be naïve.

LegalBaby:
well shes not married to ice prince

Prostitutes will always justify f.uc.king around.

Marriage is NOT based on rings, cleaning, cooking and fuc.king. No ways.

Marriage is based on decision making: finances, sharing your dreams and goals and finding a way to accomplish them together.

And then there are breaking points such as cheating, substance use, failed potential(s), derailed dreams and goals.

There are also highlights of happiness (babies, home buying, travelling, etcetera).

It's NOT “happily ever after”, it's a new normal where you're learning to adjust and SHARE your life with someone who is NOT YOU.

How can a man lead and protect a woman unconditionally if she's taking a different path, or won't follow?!? A ship can't go two directions at once. Support the captain or don't get aboard.

And please don't think that this topic insinuates a man's my-way-or-no-way mindset. With all due respect, the captain should have quite an amazing destination in mind, and the ship itself should be fully intact. No one wants to get on a sinking ship, or a ship that's headed towards an iceberg, a cliff, or an epic storm. Essentially, the woman's aspirations and dreams should be fully supported by the man as well. If the man is the captain, then the woman should most certainly be his first mate.

More importantly, as a man, I would also add that we as men first need to render ourselves captains worthy of being followed. We should ask ourselves in a serious manner whether a woman should even want to board our ship, and answer that question with absolute honesty. If the answer is 'no', then we have plenty of work to do. Just because you are male doesn't mean you are able to lead.

Proportionally, there are a fair amount of good brothers with dreams, visions, a good head on his shoulder, focus and driven in the right direction, but have yoked up with a foolish thinking woman and she'll ruin an empire before it even gets built. I want to reiterate that there are men out there that are absolutely able to lead, but how many women are actually able to support? By support I mean encourage—mentally and spiritually.

In case it's unclear, the man is the head of household, period. There can't be two. That will cause problems. If they support each other mind, body, soul and with respect, then there will be no question about what role each one has in the relationship. It will come naturally.

I hate anyone trying to slut shame anyone else. And prostitutes and strippers are some of the smartest people to get paid for sh.it we all do for free. Facts.

I know it seems counterintuitive, but there are some brilliant strippers out there that are really paying their way through school. As stereotypical as that might sound, everybody has the right to chose their own path.

Not saying I am promoting stripping, or prostitution, but I understand why they do it. That's why I don't judge.

Thursday, July 7, 2016 is a disastrous day I will never forget. My gorgeous grey knapsack “magically” disappeared into thin air after following pathetic protocol at the Igbo Efon branch office of bet9ja. Sadly, every effort to get my bag back availed me nothing. I'm still hopeful however. The Thursday in question was actually an egregious extension of the Eid al-Fitr national public holiday.

Allow me to clarify, my battery was way flat—on that fateful day—and I so desperately needed to call my mom as news had filtered in that she nearly fainted from the pain in her sorely swollen legs. In case it's unclear, my mom has a specific arthritic condition. Nearly cannot kill a bird (and it sure can't kill my mom), but the nauseating news had me overcome with panic, or more correctly speaking panic-stricken. This is the only mom I've got! Call me a momma's boy and see if I give a rat's ass!! I don't play with my mom; not even for a quarter of a nanosecond!!!

Without any ado, I asked around about where I could charge my phone, or rather pay to charge my phone. All fingers pointed to the bet9ja office on Igbo Efon—I was around New Road by then—and I figured they couldn't be wrong as all flies eat excrement.

On getting to the bet9ja building (ECCO PLAZA), I made my way up the few flights of stairs to get to the top floor where every evidently official operations occur. The security guard on duty politely prevailed on me to drop my bag before going in; much to my dismay.

In actuality, there was an apparent notice on the wall stating that customers couldn't carry their bags with them to tender their transactions. It became exceedingly explanatory why different bags were lying/sitting on the ground. Ultimately, I dropped my properly packed packsack with the other ones obviously and asked the security guard—who was sitting adjacent to my bag by now—where I could charge my phone and he swiftly showed me to a corner across the large room. Had a tough time maneuvering my frame through the crowd of people present at the time.

Finally got to connect my charger—with my phone—to an abnormally enormous electrical extension with like 400 sockets and like 80 million mobile phones plugged into every aperture available. Few minutes into charging and (for some strange reason) I become unconditionally uncomfortable with the whole betting environment—gambling if you will—and I'm unplugging my stuff and heading to where my bag was. That's when the drama began.

On getting to the supposed bags boundary, I couldn't see anything that looked like mine. I could swear some scales fell from my eyes in that instant. Am I temporarily blind? Am I in a trance? Am I being punked? These queerish questions (and so much more) plagued my mind per second per second. Felt like I was hit by a ricochet; like I was struck by lightning. And to make matters more maniacal, the security guard was now nowhere to be found.

Made for the stairs to see scumbag security shuffling up to his (seemingly) abandoned post. Gave him the 411 and he starts spewing absolutely annoying affirmations about how such scenario hadn't happened in the location, with the exception of an incident involving a missing iPad. Such a rush. I briskly brought the theft to the manager's attention and he suggested I go get a police report ASAP. The nearest police station was the one at Ilasan New Road, so I made my way there with breakneck speed.

Now, at the police station, it was a different ball game. There was a long line of people—citizens and expatriates especially—waiting to be attended to. Eons later, it was my turn to table my case and I did so with swift specificity. The cop at the counter copied the specifics I handed him on a shriveled sheet of paper before asking an officer whose most impressive physical asset is his bloated beer belly, to accompany me back to the bet9ja office where my bag was whisked away “mysteriously”.

Typically (and utterly unsurprisingly), when we got outside, this potbellied policeman took the time to inform me that I'd have to tender three thousand naira (₦3,000), at the barest minimum, before any assistance could be given to me. I wasn't anywhere astonished at all as my pleas of not even having chicken feed fell on the deafest ears. And if you guessed that this point was most likely the end of the road for me, you guessed correctly.

Still and all, the terrifying thing (for me) isn't about my missing bag per se, but the contents therein:

My NLT Bible (courtesy of my marvelous mom)
My International Passport,
My Original Degree (of BSc) Certificate,
My Original NYSC Certificate,
My Original WASSCE Result,
My Original Birth Certificate,
My Original Baptismal Certificate,
My Original WOFBI Statement of Result (certifiable, bona fide Living Faith members know what it is),
My Original WOFBI Testimonial,
My Original Believers Class Certificate and a couple of overwhelmingly ballistic books by the one and only Bishop David O. Oyedepo (Satan Get Lost!, Possessing Your Possessions, Breaking the Curses of Life, Making Maximum Impact, Conquering Controlling Powers, Understanding Vision, Understanding Financial Prosperity and Making Marriage Work) and the incredibly intelligent Sam Adeyemi (The Parable of Dollars: Proven Strategies for Your Financial Success, Build Real Wealth: Practical Steps to Regain Financial Stability and Ideas Rule the World).

Anyone with rational reasoning would apparently agree that these are absolutely priceless properties.

On the other hand, the tangibles with price tags that were in the bag before the diabolical disappearance are as follows:

•Ray-Ban Sunglasses•
Most specifically, the WAYFARER FOLDING CLASSIC. It comes customized with the GREEN CLASSIC G-15 LENSES. Cost me ₦12,000.

•An Aurora Blue Breitling CHRONOMETRE NAVITIMER Wristwatch•
This is an automatic STAINLESS STEEL watch with a price tag of ₦43,000 that came as a gorgeous gift on my 26th birthday. Problem is I never got to wear it, not even for once. Kept carrying it around and about—in my rucksack—with the hopes of landing a worthy buyer. FML.

•An Emerald Electric 1000 Watts Portable Boiling Water Heater•
This mobile masterpiece cost me ₦18,000. I'm a sucker for fancy quality.

•Lenthéric Lavender Eau de Cologne Spray 100ml•
Cost me a paltry ₦3,500.

•Double–Decker Stamp Set•
Contains violet and black Ink Pads. Also included is the Stamp Ink and Stamp Pad. This whole set sold for ₦5,000.

•A black pair of leather flip-flops with gold chains crested upon 'em (I think I have a picture of that somewhere). This lil' baby cost me ₦8,500.

•A black Sean John T-shirt which I copped at Wrangler for four grand. Lord knows that tee shirt swaggered sweeter than ₦4,000.

The bag also contained a miscellany of toiletries, keys to my mammoth Perry Ellis traveling bag, chocolate bars, and long-forgotten love letters.

In all candor, I haven't the foggiest idea if I'd ever see my bag again at this point. I've got to admit, it is horribly hard harboring hope in tremendously torturous times like this. And the extremely epileptic economy of this colossal country called Nigeria is in no way helping matters at all. Cash is tight these days and getting a job without the original copy of one's BSc degree does look like Mission: Impossible.

I've got a fairly used Samsung Galaxy S II X T989D you'd really really like. The 4.52 inches Super AMOLED Plus capacitive touchscreen is a little cracked and the bezel along the 3.5mm jack has fallen off, but in all candor, none of these taints affects the tremendously powerful performance of the Dual-core 1.5 GHz Scorpion CPU. It has also got an extra Li-Ion battery and an absolutely amazing Adreno 220 GPU for your HD gaming needs. What more can I say, just call me up on 0909 999 8790.

The endless swarms of mosquitoes (in Lekki) all but maddens me to no end. And the peninsula is constantly buffeted by storms of cockroaches.

Not just Lekki, the whole island is infested with big boy German cockroaches and anopheline mosquitoes. I'll make mainland my main diggings.

Here in this terribly malarious godforsaken neighborhood filled with extremely expensive new pads people practically dwell with cockroaches.

Granted, I am oblivious of the local speed limit in this pathetic peninsula but I am absolutely aware cockroaches can cause chronic leprosy.

Leprosy is not the end of the world per se. Lepers are nursed—even though a convicted child molester is treated as a leper wherever he goes.

obadizena:
Here's one of those very few men who do experience love as distinct from lust.
Majority of men can't

'Nuff Respect!

seyema:
No way u can love someone without having lust for him/her

DESNAT:
seconded

You guys inspire me.

foolinlove:
Incorrect. You love your parents? Your siblings?

seyema:
That's a different kind of love now

Lol, “…a different kind of love…”? Seyema, please, do enlighten us.

seyema:
No way u can love someone without having lust for him/her

Seyema, I admire your lust for fannies. In case it's unclear, lust implies incredibly intense and utterly unbridled sexual desire. When you lust after a person, you're motivated more by lust than love. You're consumed by lust so satisfying your lusts become your one and only obligation—your major concern.

kamel4real2015:
Lust is the common thing now love existed last during our parents time, today lust for money,materialism rule the world at large

Love still exists, Kamel, trust me.

Florblu:
Love is rare,lust is common.Lust is what most people in a relationship have for each other especially guys

Florblu, please don't generalize. Lust isn't gender specific. You and I know that.

I think there's a difference between being attracted to someone and seeing a future with them. Fuc.king with somebody and building with somebody ain't the same. That's just me personally.

Lust and love are truly two different things.

Folks ALWAYS confuse the two. Fuc.king with someone 'cause they're cute, or their sex is good, is not a indicator that you two are building. You two just lust after each other—no real feelings at all.

One's attraction should be much more than the physical (sex). It has to be more on the inside and almost as equal as the outside—the mindset, the compatibility, all this and much more. Remember, the physical will change, but your integrity lives on and that's the adhesive.

I don't know which side your bread's buttered but you may have to have an attraction for both. With some people, fuc.king with them and building with them depends on what type of relations you want with that person. Like I always affirm: WE are all wired differently.

Most importantly, both parties should specifically be well aware of where they stand. Lack of communication NEVER helps any situation. Building a relationship, the two must agree this is what they want together. Know what you want or spell it out or walk!!!

Conclusively, there are absolutely definite differences between an individual who's a KEEPER and an individual who's a THROWBACK. Make sure you know which page you're on.

Only God knows just how many million vehicles plying our outrageously Noxious Nigerian roads, are without valid Insurance. We need changes.

Anything you verbalize to a Nigerian about Insurance goes in one ear and out the other. For those of you not in the know, it is imperative.

Essentially, Insurance is a coverage by contract whereby one party undertakes to indemnify another against loss by a specified contingency.

If I Insure my Keke Napep, and it gets endamaged, lost, or stolen, my Insurance company pays me money equal to the value of my Keke. QED.

Just remembered how my Pops would always vocalize 'quod erat demonstrandum' immediately after showing someone how something is used or done.

There is general concurrency that sons are closer to their mothers, while fathers bond better with their daughters. I am the only exception.

Quite frankly, my mommy makes me not want to leave her sweet side for a split second, but I do have crystal clear chemistry with my old man.

I'm utterly unashamed to type that I'll never be politically correct. The (general) consensus of opinion has got nothing on me. I'm a rebel.

General consensus claims that the Creator loves everyone equally. I sure don't think so. Jehovah doesn't love everyone exactly the same way.

Don't get me wrong, God clearly loves every human on this earth. My argument is that children elicit different responses from their parents.

If you spawn six kids, for example, there would be one or two that you'd treat or regard with special favor or liking. Same with God and us.

Favoritism isn't purely physical, it is surpassingly spiritual too. Or how else would we explain the lives of David, Joseph, Moses, Abraham?

LannisterIMP:
What's the name of that model pls??

Deelishis. She's also known as London Charles. Her birth name is Chandra Davis. You're welcome.

Enough of the mediocrity, here's how you customize your home screen.

AirSultan:
Wow..

You are good.


That penis pic got me rolling..

keep it up...

Thanks a bunch, Sultan. We might have to do a piece together—in the near future. Let us all be great.

This is probably my only cartoon sketch suggestive of madness. Folks who saw it got affected with maniacal laughter.

Diddy should sign my ass to his #BadBoy label. It's only obligatory that I handle his next album art. #OnlyRight #LeatherSoSoft #Wavy

I actually went wild with warm fuzzies from finishing this (seemingly simple) Diddy piece. The leather looks right.