₦airaland Forum

Rockyrascal:
just log in to union bank website or bella naija,am not a participant

Okay. Thanks.

Rockyrascal:
it is an online contest which was possible through union bank's initiative, its all about who puts up the best write ups or narrative stories like this;contestants write ups are appraised and evaluated,and the best writer is awarded a cash sum of a 100 thousand naira.

Wow! Link, please!

Rockyrascal:
what you experienced that day is far worst than the OP's; sorry if I may ask,are u In anyway a participant of the #UnionBank100Bellanaija contest?

No, I'm not. I don't know what that is.

Lol! I feel for the guy. I had a similar experience when I attended one Igbo naming ceremony. Wait, what am I talking about? It's a worse experience! Not similar in the least!

I had just moved down to Ikorodu from Sango August last year. I was alone quietly at work when my old secondary school friend, Ibrahim, called me (only God knows how he got my number) and told me that Chimezie, our landlord's fourth son would be having the naming ceremony of his first child the following day. The silly Ibrahim sugar-coated everything, saying Chimezie was now very wealthy and the ceremony would be the talk of the town for two big cows had already been killed and more cows had boarded a bus from abattoir. I was so excited. My excitement trebled when Ndubuisi, the immediate elder brother of the new father, asked me which kind of 'olosho' should be kept for me.

I was breathing hard as I pictured the adventure I would have. For the first time in my life, I would be serviced by call-g*rls. I screamed at the top of my voice that two ladies with big endowments should be reserved for me. I was already seeing myself in paradise as I imagined a hot party that awaited me.

The next day, I took a false leave from work and jumped in the next available bus leaving Ikorodu for Oshodi; and from Oshodi, I took another one to Ijaye, my old area. I was so excited. I wished I could just fly. I eventually arrived at the venue at around 4pm. The first thing that caught me as strange was the fact that I saw just two canopies. Two canopies! I had thought the whole street would be filled with tents, considering the wealth of someone who had just returned from Dubai for his child's naming ceremony. The guests were not more than sixty or sixty-one. Fear gripped my heart. I searched around for any evidence of cows, there was nothing like that. I almost searched the toilets, but something told me they would not keep cows in the toilets. What if the guests wanted to take a leak?

I was overcome with fear. I decided to seek out the idiot who called me and fed me different stories. I was sure he would explain better what was going on. I found him under a plantain tree smoking weed and drinking something that had been mixed with Codeine or Gamalin 20, I don't know. Ibrahim was as stoned as the biblical Stephen. He was not in the right state of mind to tell me what had happened to the cows. Hell, I gave up on him when he started calling me Adekunle Gold.

I decided that the next course of action was to find Chimezie and his brother. I eventually saw the brother. He was so excited to see me. He hugged me tight, introduced me to his friends, then he proceeded to tax me. What the hell? I was hearing 'at all at all na him bad'. He was urging me to drop something for the boys. The 'boys' he was referring to were men in their late forties. I had to drop about a thousand naira before the 'boys' released me. They were ready to beat the country's recession out of me.

I managed to take Ndubuisi aside and asked him about the two 'oloshos' he had reserved for me. He looked at me for what seemed like eternity, as if I had asked the world's most ridiculous question. Then he started preaching to me to give my life to Christ. Yes, Ndubuisi, Ndubuisi of all people, told me to give my life to Christ. For a moment, I wondered if one witch from my mother's village had carved out an effigy of me and was now defecating on it. What had I dragged myself into?

I decided to go and seat among the rest of the frustrated guests, hoping that we would be served. We were served quite alright...with toothpicks. I collected my own stick of toothpick with the expectation that food would be arriving soon. It didn't take long before the 'menu-menu' arrived, just four hours' time. I couldn’t even find my toothpick anymore, and while the other guests were being served some miserable plates of rice whose meat had to be seen with the aid of a microscope, one evil spirit was causing the servers to serve everyone around me minus me. One even had the guts to give me a plate of food to pass to the person sitting behind me. I wanted to keep the food for myself but on seeing the angry face of the gentlehulk behind me, I calmly performed my civic duty. I had no choice but to be my brother's keeper.

I was still waiting for my food about an hour later when everyone had left and the plates were washed. I admit, I shed tears. As I went back to Ikorodu that night, I made a vow that I would revenge. The baby was a girl. I vowed that in the next twenty years when the girl would be getting married, I would attend and reveal to everyone how I had been maltreated during the bride's naming ceremony.

Obviously, revenge isn't a virtue, because two days after that event, I was robbed of my phone and money in Oshodi.