COPYRIGHT WARNING: This creative work should not be used in any form without due consultation and approval by the author. Email @emmanuelesomnofu@gmail.com.

The unofficial Nigerian ghetto headquarters of Ajegunle is one which is riddled with stories, from different mouths, each telling a unique tale. No body to tell it better than one who stands on the fore front of it all, as I type, someone who I must have seen just bled out in an hospital, he had just been treated by a quack doctor. As I type, somebody I might have touched at the famous boundary market might be having her pants torn off, her sexual organ penetrated by long items that has sworn to inflict pain on any hole it enters.

This might be 18+,but here's a story that needs to be told, and needs to heard by everyone who is blessed enough to possess an ear. This is the story of Ajegunle.

NOTE : Characters are based on real-life people and this story is based on real-life events, this is 100% non-fiction. I'll try to be steady with my updates, if there's good following. Ghost readers, pls comment, don't deny the world this story, by weakening my morale.

Your comments and criticisms are always welcome.

CHAPTER ONE

The stench which emerged from the gutter did little to discourage the boys, who were playing an unfriendly game of dice. They staked five naira each and put the almost-destroyed naira notes on the ground, holding it together to the Earth with a stone so big, it almost covered the money. The streets they chose to perpetrate this unofficial olympic sport 'Adetola Lane' was secluded, quiet, and people rarely passed. It was common knowledge that this was so, and the boys trekked long distances, to arrive at Adetola.

"Ogun mama, six!" one of them said, clenching his fist in jubilatory fashion

"Ode, you no see say na two-face?" another one of the three said

"Leave am, him dey jump like sey na today hin start dis parole" the third one said mockingly

He should be the oldest, the one who said nothing as Moji was being cheated. It was a two-face but the number 6 came out clearly than 1 and he knew that he was supposed to have won. He relaxed his back on the wall, and brought out a stick of jedi, a thin cigarette, the poor man's replacement of an actual cigarette. His eyes were red as a failing heart, and his face was decorated with lengthy scars, drawn by bottles, and other weapons. It was obvious he had engaged in many fights, rumor has it he has seen Papi's face. He was in the middle of puffing the Jedi stick out of existence, as the novice was still looking confused. He refused to continue the game and sat at the ground crying.

Moji felt a hand touch him from behind, but he was too distraught to turn, to ascertain who paid him a little bit of attention. It might be one of these 'busy body' people that lived here. He didn't turn about, until he was slapped heavily, his skin turning red like a colored pork, his attention had surely been bought. He stood up in obvious anger, turning to see who it was that was playing this joke on him. He met a set of discolored yellow teeth which shone in curious, naughty stupidity. He wished to slap them off and do the mouth a huge favor.

"Wetin come happen, that you slapped me?" He asked, with an arm outstretched, as if begging for money. His question jumped in between Pidgin and English.

The grin on the intruder's mouth increased, as he felt that this teeth might just cover the entirety of the person's face. He, Saliu, the intruder, knew that this one was a 'malo', a newcomer into the happenings of the streets. And so, he knew he'd be easy to influence.

"Why you sidan like who miss road? You wise sef?"

Moji looked at him, trying to figure out the sense in what he said. But, the intruder intruded his thoughts and spoke again

"You know know sey if dis pipu for dis street see you, dem fit ring olokpa, sey you dun die, or you wan die, or you wan thief sef"

The young one now recognized him. He was one of the gamblers, but he rarely spoke then. Why the sudden show of concern? He heard a voice inside him,telling him that this guy means well. He extended his hand for an handshake, but the mean-looking fellow hugged him instead in a rather rough manner, his body suprisingly smelling of strong perfume, but the potency of the perfume couldn't and wouldn't eclipse the reek and ugly smell that escaped from his mouth when he spoke, it smelt like alcohol, jedi and some other things Moji knew not.

"No mind doz boys, na dem way be dat" he said, taking a puff, into his third Jedi stick. He didn't tell Moji that the boys would come back to him, offering small sachets of liquor and a couple sticks of cigarette, a reward for keeping quiet.

"Oh, you sabi the miscreants?"

"Yes, I dey see dem once once" Saliu replied

He then signalled Moji to come closer, after feeling he had established a little trust between them. Moji obeyed the order.

As Moji stood with him, backs against the wall, absolute quiet,as Saliu chewed, sucked, and puffed what Moji counted, wrongly, as his fourth stick. It was the fifth. He threw the cigarette to the ground, and stamped on it, at the same time reaching for something in his pocket. Moji saw it, it was wrapped in a newspaper, and was small. It was the size of a fried meat.

Moji wondered what it was.

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Thy readership and comments are welcome

He met a set of discolored yellow teeth which shone in curious naughty stupidity.....

My best line

Op, come and continue

Op,come and continue.

Moji's curiousity intensified, evident in his eye brow going up a little higher than it's usual position as he he stretched and itched to see what was wrapped in the newspaper. As soon as the quite lanky thing unwrapped it, Moji saw it was nothing but dark green leaves, that have been meshed into each other. Saliu first took small and threw into his mouth, his facial features reacting wondrously irritated by the substance. His nose shifted, his eyes shut, and his teeth clamped down on his teeth. Moji had never seen something quite as powerful as that, as the lanky boy continued as if showing a demonstration to Moji. Opening his eyes, he let out an exasperated exhale, as the redness of his eyes thickened, and the exhale smelt of rot.

After chewing the substance, he brought out a red stuff which held some white papers, the word 'rizzler' was boldly written on the red item and it was then Moji knew what the green substance was...Marijuana a.k.a Igbo.

He had heard of drug abuse amongst people, young people but he had never seen one, let alone be present at the scene. He thought why on Earth any one would want to burn out his lungs and cause general bodily damage to himself. Moji had seen the scars and marks, and amateurish tattoes on the body of this one but still for some reason, he wasn't scared of him. Moji saw some vulnerability when he was on the previous Jedi sticks. As Moji thought all these, the fella in question was meticulosly laying the marijuana into the white paper, doing it with such detail and care that Moji wondered what fate would befall him if he mistakenly hit the item off his hand. He'd rather be wise not to commit such mistake.

The final part of the demonstration, or so Moji thought was when he had licked the paper, after the younger one seemingly thought his tongue was devoid of saliva due to his incessant smoking. When he had succesfully completed his life's mission of 'packaging' the blunt, he brought out a lighter from his back pocket, and as he did, something fell out, which he picked hurriedly, but Moji had already seen what was written on it. He flashed his abnormal set of teeth again, and at that minute, he wished his eye was blind to the color yellow.

He lit the paper up with such finesse it caught up fire at the first try. He then placed one end at the tip of his lip, and looked at Moji again, before taking it in and sucking it in,and letting out smoke out,which found their way to Moji's face, to which he frowned in disgust. He still couldn't figure what had kept him in such bad company, but he knew what. He couldn't lie to himself, even though he had already, when he frowned as the smoke whisked past his face. It smelt nice to him, like incense

kazuna:

My best line

Bossman, you're welcome.

Thanks for the mention, am very greatful. Still i follow till the end.

Ok I don Land lIke a Land cruiser......

TEAM HERO

ROYH:
AOB1+TGOLD1+THEBLESSEDMAN+MRLEMUEL

From Alone To Ghetto, What A Nice Move...


FRESH TORI, just stalking ni sha

[size=80pt]T34M H3RO [/size]

Baami ThanKs for everytime.......


Gbogbo TEAM HERO


TheBlessedMAN, MrLemuel, Fobiflex, AOB1(you be Agunbiade pikIn?), SmarteStPopQueen, Food Never Ready o, But WaTer don dey Fire ooo?

When AOB1 Join TEAm HEro sef?

Tgold1:




Baami ThanKs for everytime.......


Gbogbo TEAM HERO


TheBlessedMAN, MrLemuel, Fobiflex, AOB1(you be Agunbiade pikIn?), SmarteStPopQueen, Food Never Ready o, But WaTer don dey Fire ooo?

When AOB1 Join TEAm HEro sef?

present... Oya TEAM HERO don land... Make updates start to dey flow.... Oya na.. Ride on Op

Tgold1:



When AOB1 Join TEAm HEro sef?

NA Awa Bouncer That Guy Be Oh, No Be Team Hero, So Bewarned :-/

Saliu was half way through finishing the wrap, but for a brief moment, he stopped, and looked at the younger one in the eye, then said

"Hold something, e go uplift your spirit"

"Bros, you know sey I can't smoke na" Moji replied, he was still getting used to the art of speaking the language of the streets, Pidgin. He wanted to try and speak it, but his educational background always laughed at his efforts.

"You see those boys wey kala you abi? Na dis thing dey give dem morale. See, if you no wan be mamu, draw small" He stressed, putting the blunt ever closer to the right hand of Moji.

Moji now felt the need to take a whiff, his life was one big bad dream, and if these paper and leaves could lift him out of it, he would happily patronise it. He was going to take this, and develop 'ginger' as street boys called it, he was never going to be intimidated by anyone, ever again. He looked at the marijuana stick, then looked at the person that was gesturing him to take it. They both had striking similarities. For one, the stick was half-used, and this boy seemed to be dangling just over the fires of death. The stick was thin, just like the thin person who smoked it. Moji made up all these in his mind, and then snapped out of his thoughts, realizing he kept someone waiting.

He took the marijuana from his hands, and with carefulness, he placed the un-burnt tip at the side of his lip. If he was going to lose his red lips color, it wasn't going to be the middle. Just as he was about to suck it in, the disapproving head of Saliu shook, using his finger to motion the stick should be placed at the middle.

The suck-in proved more fatal than Moji would have thought, as the exhumes found their way to his lungs, and head, which resulted in his eyes turn fiery red, his head to him felt like he carried two persons on it, his chest clasped together in hotness, and generally, he felt like he was dying. After six minutes of painful coughing, he looked up, and saw the devilish grin of Saliu, he was tired of seeing his trademark 'mtn teeth'.

"Welcome" Saliu said, stretching forth his left hand for an handshake.

Moji was taken aback, he had never seen someone shake with the left hand before, even natural left-handers, he knew that this guy wasn't a 'lefty' because all the while, he had been smoking with his right hand. He looked at the hand once more, and in the palm was something, a word tinily written. Moji would later come to know what it meant, and how it would change his life forever.

He accepted the handshake, and afterwards engaged in a friendly hug where only the shoulders hit each other. Moji was new to that too.

"Shit, dem dun call blackie olokpa" Saliu said, with a frightened tone, but a very calm face. Moji was stuck in an hysteria, and began crying, when the policeman approached them, after leaving behind the patrol van on the entrance of the street. Moji looked up to his 'newly found' big brother, searching for suggestions in his facial expressions. He found nothing.

"Oya dey run, comot your slippers" Saliu barked. Almost immediately, Moji obliged, and began running like heaven's gate was closing on him. He ran, without pedalling down his pace, or looking back. He was running when the long legs of Saliu overtook him in the heavenly race.

"I wan surrender oo" Moji screamed from behind as it seemed the policeman was gaining ground at the chase.

"No ooo, continue to dey ture" Saliu ordered. He understood the boy's fear. The blackie olokpa looked wicked. He was once a hit-and-run too, but had now become a 'champion', who had evaded arrest countless times, and had entered the walls of a cell 32 times, and came out.

"You want make him blast my skull?" Moji shouted at the top of his voice, irritated by Saliu's calmness, if only he had such long legs and speed. He was surprised that someone who had been smoking his lungs out was running like Usain Bolt.

"Him no fit shoot, dem go charge am for bullet" Saliu assured with a tone of experience that eluded Moji.

Moji didn't see the huge stone on the ground that Saliu had jumped over some seconds ago. His eyes were fixated on the street, seeking an escape route. He hit the stone and went down in pain. He called Saliu's name but he instead, continued running. The black olokpa with the countenance of a fearful Edo masquerade closed in on him, as he held his leg in pain. He was arrested.

As he was led back to the patrol van, he cried softly, he thought he had made a friend that would protect him from the wolves of Ajegunle but he even, was a wolf. He cried when he remembered the words of his mother, 'trust no one'. He wondered what will happen to her if he didn't return that day. He was going to the cell because of someone he didn't know, he didn't even know his name.

He cried again.

BlindAngel:
Thanks for the mention, am very greatful. Still i follow till the end.

Thanks for your highly-esteemed 'followership'

ROYH:
AOB1+TGOLD1+THEBLESSEDMAN+MRLEMUEL

From Alone To Ghetto, What A Nice Move...


FRESH TORI, just stalking ni sha

[size=80pt]T34M H3RO [/size]

Thanks, for stalking. I believe this story would continue to make you stalk.

TheBlessedMAN:
present... Oya TEAM HERO don land... Make updates start to dey flow.... Oya na.. Ride on Op

Team HERO is highly welcome.
My updates will flow, I promise, as long as comments, thoughts and criticism flow in equal measure.

For y'all reading, following, or viewing this story only [Ghost readers]. Comment and mention that person or persons that needs to read this.

Thanks.

Please, any pidgin term you're not used to, point it out, and i'll dutifully explain.

It's my job to make sure y'all get a wonderful reading trip, as I attempt to weave you past Ajegunle on the wheels of storytelling.

Thanks.

Continue brah....... Ayam feeling you!!!!

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Baami ThanKs for everytime.......


Gbogbo TEAM HERO


TheBlessedMAN, MrLemuel, Fobiflex, AOB1(you be Agunbiade pikIn?), SmarteStPopQueen, Food Never Ready o, But WaTer don dey Fire ooo?

When AOB1 Join TEAm HEro sef?

Hi pals... Am finally here....

fikfaknuel:

Thanks, for stalking. I believe this story would continue to make you stalk.

let wait and see OP

SmartestPopQUEEN:
Hi pals... Am finally here....

You're Wellemly welcome Ma'am

The hotel was a lively one, with 'konto' music emanating from the big speakers that were placed on strategic positions. The ground was littered with broken bottles that suggested a fight had happened, actually, in this hotel, a fight happened, every day. They were men who seeked the pleasures of the earth. They sat down on the sofa offered on one corner of the dancehall, so as not to interrupt the gyrating of bodies on the middle. Majority of people who flocked in here preffered to enjoy themselves while standing, a bottle of beer in hand, and rubbing their hardened joysticks on the buttocks of scantily dressed girls all in the guise of dancing. The VIP were the ones on the long sofa, and they sat there after paying a sum of money, while they watch and observe if any girl catches their fancy and she is invited, to negotiate with the VIP. These VIPs had the privilege of demanding 'mouth action' from the girls which was given freely on the sofa. If impressed, he rents a room.

All these made 'Phase two' a popular name amongst fun seekers in the area, and it was always full with people of different ages, old and young, poor, rich, and the comfortable. There was a size for every one, and the price for any pocket. Today was no different, it was a Thursday, which was one of the special days at the hotel. DJ Solo B was the one slamming hard dancehall jams for the dancers, who were all children, below the age of 12. These children were mostly offsprings of the sex workers, while some were victims of ghetto experience. The hotel provided a home and paid them handsomely, with a plate of rice that had a quarrel with stew, twice a day, and semen, was mostly the water they drank.

Saliu walked into the hotel in a slow manner, observing the frenzified state of the place, he dodged bodies of grown-up men, who filled the hall, that were performing sensual acts on the 'children entertainers' as they were called, entertainers that had barely grown breast, caressing the chests and sexual body parts of men old enough to be their fathers, grand fathers even.

He, Saliu, hit the glass table which the bartender sold liquor with his ring
"Gimme meshango, one litres, and give me three cups"

The bartender bent down, and brought something that was somehow yellow in color, put inside a plastic table water bottle, which should be a litre, and handed them with three little plastic cups to Saliu after he had handed him some notes of naira.

Saliu ran up the stairs to the first storey, where the rooms were, pausing for some time to figure out the room he was looking for. He remebered the man's favorite room, and he went there, with his present in his hand. He knocked thrice, he had to be precise in his dealings. The door opened and Saliu entered, raising his head up, in greeting.

"The Man, I need your help" Saliu said once he had looked at the other two people who sat in the room, discussing somthing. The discussion paused as soon as he entered. The Man, was facing backwards to the door so Saliu couldn't see if his facial expression said 'go on'.

He waited, until The Man turned to face him. He wasn't a man, he was a boy, a teenager who should be thirteen. His facial features supported the fact-but his voice, which sounded too coarse when he spoke

"Traitor, how can I help you?" He spoke with an all-mighty tone, as the men who were with him put on toughened faces, making crackling sounds with their fists, oblivious of the smile on Saliu's lips which twisted in mocking fashion, as he thought how funny and unfortunate it could be that three men are playing second-fiddle and acting like underpaid bouncers to a person that could be at the same age-grade as their last-born children.

Saliu dropped the drink on the table, blessing the yellowish liquid with some incessant mumbo-jumbo. He then opened it, filling the plastic cups with the drink known as meshango, a dangerously efficient alcoholic, that could knock the sober off a person in twenty minutes, or less. They were deep in drinking, and the yellowish content in the plastic bottle was almost finished. They drank together but shared no laugh, they didn't even say a word. It was as if they knew that the drink was pre-intimacy, the real ish was yet to come. They all waited patiently, stealing occasional glances at Saliu, waiting for him to say what he needed.

Saliu cleared his throat, and they knew he was ready to speak. They all dropped their plastic cups, except The Man, who held his cup close to his lip.

"Blackie Olokpa is back"

"What?" The Man exclaimed in shock, as the cup fell from his hand.

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Bibi ..... you're sighted

It's my birthday, and i'll update twice today as my special gift to y'all..

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