₦airaland Forum

Federal polytechnic ugep should be next to petitions

Confused people… who do us? So till normal FG can’t fix our refineries. God abeg you fit reset the creation of the world. I wan check something

Just say INEC senior officials went for vocation in the US

Una get strength to swim era…

Why is the government so obsessed with the national anthem?

This is the latest Trend….. ?

Every union want collet ghana must go this period….

People are dying every day from hunger, inability to pay for medical care, violence etc resulting directly from bad governance. Businesses are all closing shop because of poor patronage and insecurity, insecurity everywhere and a collapsed educational system means poverty, ignorance and diseases.
All these are government's propaganda due to the agitation for change going on in the land. All these are knee jerk reactions to persuade people to calm down. What is the policy of the ruling party? What can people do with palliatives that is turning everybody into a refugee in our own country? What do the ruling elites do to deserve their opulence lifestyles? People are not blind to the fact that overwhelming majority of people are feeding from crumbs dropping from the bosses tables. The terrible roads? The absence of power and cost of powering individual generators? The collapsed infrastructure everywhere, while they buy yachts and send their children abroad. The list is too Long, my people. Something needs to change, and we need it now. We have been lied to for too long. Some of us have witnessed these rhetorics for over 50 years, but nothing has changed. They keep us down with fear of Armageddon as if they would not be affected. "He who is down needs fear no falls". We need to emancipate ourselves from this internal slavery and colonization. We are not asking for, violence, anarchy, looting or war, we are only asking for good governance. What is wrong with that?

FG wants to play the time game.

See person father dey knee down for urgent 2k… Men dey suffer 🥺🥺🥺

This match go long

That means flight from Nigeria to London will be cheap??
No more traveling from Benin to Uk abi?
So flights from Lagos to Abuja will be around 20-30k ??

Ok

Lol

MY CHINYERE

Have you ever prayed to die? As in for God to kill you? I have, fervently, when I was about 14.

You know teenagers and the clique thing. We had ours you know. We were also noticing the girls. We divided them into the beautiful ones and the ugly ones. Of course our parameters were very faulty but go tell that to a 16 year old.

Chinyere was one of those girls we branded into the ugly group. Looking back now she wasn’t ugly at all. But back then as far as we were concerned, she was an ugly hag. And that was final. Of course we don’t go near the ugly girls; we don’t date them, we don’t even want to talk to them.

One day na so me and my guys just de stroll enter church o, we come de see people, young girls, just de laugh de point us hand. We ignored them and kept our distance. Presently, one of our informants came close and dropped a bombshell: Chinyere has been broadcasting that she loves me! My God! Ugly Chinyere? Since church was about to start we postponed the matter and went in.

In church I prayed. God where you there when Chinyere started loving me and then started broadcasting it? And you did nothing? O God why will you let ugly Chinyere love me? How will my pals rate me now? Me? Chinyere? Tufiakwa!

After church an emergency meeting was called by my pals. We were furious. How dare Chinyere love one in our clique?! Quickly a resolution was reached to halt this madness. I was ordered to beat her up. I wasn’t a very physical teenager, and I wasn’t really sure whether I could beat Chinyere in a fair battle. They sensed my reservations and promised their support.

I cornered Chinyere after church, “Chinyere you de craze? Na who you love?”

“Do you want to fight me because I love you?” she asked calmly.

I answered that question with a slap. Chinyere didn’t slap me back. I pushed her to the ground and started buffeting her. She didn’t fight back. Just then a catechist passed by and separated us.

He asked what happened. With punctuations of heavy breathing I blurted, “I de here my own o, Chinyere come de love me.”

The man was shocked. “Are you beating her because she loves you?”

It was my turn to be shocked. “It’s like this man doesn’t know that Chinyere is ugly o,” I thought.

He turned to Chinyere, “Do you love him?”

“Yes sir. I love him.”

The silence was deafening. Her friends thought she was a fool. My friends thought she was a dare-devil. I thought she was an idiot. But there was something about her that seems to impress the catechist. Well he issued a permanent injunction not to touch Chinyere again and we all headed home.

My house de near church o, but I no branch. I followed my pals talking and boasting about wowo girls when de love fine boys. Chinyere and her troop walked behind defeated. We talked at the top of our voices, boasted and mocked. We got close to a filling station, the lights made everywhere bright, making 7:15pm look like 4pm.

Then it happened.

To this day I still don’t know how it happened. Something just gave way underneath me and I slipped and fell flat on the ground[b][/b]. The girls behind me roared and jeered, my friends disappeared into thin air. There I lay fallen and disgraced before my enemies.

Then I prayed. I prayed the most fervent prayer of my entire life: I ASKED GOD TO KILL ME! I lay there for a while not because I couldn’t get up but because I didn’t want to. I wanted God to kill me.

An elderly brother come lift me up, curse me join sef. E say “you too de talk.” I stood there covered with shame and dust. Then I started walking home. I was walking under the shadows casted by the Gmalina trees that lined the road. Then I saw a figure come out of the shadows, behind the trees just in front of me.

CHINYERE!

I stood. She walked towards me, “I just want you to know that I didn’t laugh when you fell. Sorry.” I said nothing, but I knew she was telling the truth. She took my hand and examined the bruise on my right elbow, telling me sorry several times. I didn’t resist when she took my hand. I just stood there.

She looked at me and I looked into her 14 year old eyes: there were deep brown. I also saw her ruddy cheeks and chubby arms. This girl isn’t ugly at all. In fact she is so so beautiful. She dusted me and cleaned the blood with her head scarf. I just stood there.

Then she opened my left palm, put something that felt like a sheet of paper and folded my fingers to cover it. Chinyere looked up at me with tear-filled eyes and said “I love you , very much.” She dropped my hand and ran. She ran to catch up with her friends.

I opened my palms and saw N5 note. O my God. I turned towards her direction and saw her still running. That was the last time I saw Chinyere.

I stopped going to church for a while because of the embarrassment of the fall. Few months later Chinyere travelled to visit her aunt in Enugu and never came back. She died in a motor accident. I was devastated.

I went to church and sat where she and her friends use to sit, she wasn’t there. I went back in the night to that spot where I fell, she wasn’t there. I wanted to take her hand as she took mine; look into her eyes as she did and say to her “I love you too.”

O Chinyere... My Chinyere… 😭

Lol

Lol

Lol

So because una cut jet from Hollywood movie, make we believe una abi…, Shey you dey whine us abi?

In my country…. She fit use that 48hrs Thief #2billion

LONDON

13 Liverpool Street, Off Queen Elizabeth Park Suite c5 first floor, room 7A

NIGERIA

If you reach Hospital Road, you will see one big gutter, by the right there’s a shrine, jump the gutter and corner left. Do as if you’re going right but be coming left small small. Be going down down…. Straaaaaaight! They use to smoke weed on that street, if anybody stop you don’t answer just hold your phone and bag tight.

Until you will see one place they are selling Akamu in front of one Ogogoro Kiosk opposite where they use to throwey dustbin.

Just stand there and flash me, I will come out.

���

Jh

What the law says

Na front page

� �

MAMA NO CRY AGAIN, I CHOP BLOOD AND COKE

After my father’s death, life became miserable. We wallowed in penury. Mama struggled and toiled to fend for us. It was tough. Inspite of our lack, Mama insisted in raising us up with dignity. No child of hers will dare eat outside or eat trash because he is hungry. Come back home, let’s share the little we have or sleep hungry together. That was her creed.

Those days there was something edible they make out of cow blood. They will take the blood after slaughtering the animal and sort of bake it. In my dialect it is called “Alung ayam.” It is the foulest of things to eat.

The few times I ate it, I hated it. But I always eat it whenever I had the opportunity because my Mum gave direct and specific instructions never to taste that trash. You know how all of a sudden the things our parents say we shouldn’t do become so appealing and tasty.

One day I went to hawk mai-mai. I strolled into Abakpa Market with my little basin on my head. Business was good, so I decided to sit down and chat with some fellow kids who were also hawking.

One of my pals bought a large quantity of this baked blood and we started eating. That one finish, we come begin to buy in turns de chop. Na our mama money o. Mtcheew. Wetin? Abeg, cheers to the good life.

By the time we left that market, we had eaten enough cow blood to make us a herd of cattle.

We left the market and continued the hawking. We happened upon a birthday celebration going on somewhere; we hung around there for a while. None of those birthday people were interested in our wares. But there were very nice; people are generally nice during festivities.

They offered us Coke. One full bottle of Coke each! Wow and wow! Mama say make we no chop for person house o. Abeg, abeg, abeg. I have been keeping this rule since na, but one full bottle of Coke all to me? Me alone? Who can resist this temptation? Certainly not me. I fell gladly.

I got home.

The next morning I was pressed. At 10, I had the freedom of doing it in the toilet or on a refuse dump in the outskirts of the compound. This morning, I chose to do it on the refuse dump.

The refuse dump was close to a path leading to the river and Ofana Well. When on the refuse dump, you can see people coming and going to the Well and river, and they can see you too.

I mounted the refuse dump and started defecating. My nyash and back was facing the path and my face away from those using the path. I was enjoying the sweet relief of expelling pellets of shit out of my anal cavity and totally lost to the world around me, when I heard a long scream.

I got up sharply and turned abruptly towards the path in time to see my mother throw away the basin of water she was carrying and came running towards me.

There was commotion.

People came running towards her screams as she came running towards me. I didn’t wait for an explanation. I de craze? I took off. I knew I was running from her, but I didn’t know where I was running to. Somehow in the ensuing pandemonium, I ran into her.

She clasped me tightly to herself and was screaming and crying. She was saying something about my shit and my death. The shit was under me, but I didn’t see it; meanwhile Mama has telescoped the shit from a distance.

I couldn’t understand.

They tried to calm her down and ask her what the problem was. She tried to explain, but her words were scanty, heavily overcrowded by punctuations of her sobs. But she managed to say something about the colour of my shit and the date of my death.

They wanted to see for themselves. They lined up in a procession to view my shit. I believe that is the highest honour and deepest respect ever given to a human shit in history! What a shit?!

When they get to where the shit was standing, they will fold their arms across their breast and shake their heads in surprise and sorrow, I was utterly flummoxed. What the heck are they seeing in my shit. I wriggled out of my mum’s grasp and joined the queue to see my shit.

When I got there I saw a totally black mass of mess. I was initially shocked, but I remembered what I ate yesterday. Everybody was afraid. My mum was crying. She believed my Liver must be rotten for me to bring out such a shit.

I stood there, with my nicker under my left armpit, my right hand lifting my shirt up a bit, exposing my 10-year old penis for public consumption and scrutiny.

They turned my anus into a laboratory. They were investigating the contents and the container with clinical bravado, microscopic concentration and telescopic accuracy.

They were crying.

I stood there.

At a stage I was convinced I was even dead. I looked around. Maybe I don die o. I turned to one of the men investigating my anus

“Uncle I don die?”

“No you never die,” he assured me. I didn’t believe him.

They were crying. More women don show. Some were crying soprano, some were crying alto, some tenor and others were crying bass.

A sizeable crowd had gathered. The tourist attraction was my shit! What a shit! News was spreading fast about me and my shit. People were coming from everywhere to see us: me and my shit.

Mama was still crying. I hate to see my mum cry. I knew why that shit was black, but nobody was listening to me. I know that if Mama found out what I ate, she will surely trash me. But I don’t care, I cant stand her crying like that.

I moved close to her. She saw me coming, dragged me to herself, embraced me, still crying.

“Mama no cry again, I chop blood.” I whispered.

She did not hear.

“Mama I chop blood!” She wasn’t listening. Nobody was.

“Mama I chop blood and Coke!” She no hear.

Mama only stopped crying and everyone calmed down when Dr John confirmed me fit and sound.

Mama. I love you.

The executive Michael Jackson of osun state.... 20 billion votes for you.. God bless you Sir..

No be to use hijab cover head.....just do the right thing

Rich vs Poor last last everybody go die...

Hope say water go dey tank...??

It's all about business...