Dear all,

Keep reading →

Ever wondered what this term Yahoo yahoo means? Its an all pervading phrase that now it has become part of our everyday speech. Simply put it means using the Internet as a means of ‘making money’. Not by any legal means however. Youth of nowadays in Naija do not want to work a regular nine to five anymore. The most common means is to defraud unsuspecting white men/women of their hard earned money. Many a time I have gone to a Cyber café to find young boys chatting with women or men of an older age with different pictures as their profile. Which makes me wonder “Why would anyone want to go on the Internet to find love???”The next thing you know you see one of these so called yahoo boys in sleek cars and a lot of them in their favorite apparel(don’t ask me why)which is usually long sleeved shirts with high collars. I happen to live in a particular area in Lagos where they abound.Once some unsuspecting ‘mugu’has been defrauded-as these white guys are called-it is straight to the bank to receive their payments through Western union which is one of the means of payment.

Keep reading →

I hear what mama says about you,
And what the priest says about you each day;
Mama says you save,
The priest says we are nothing but slaves,
I want to know what is true
I want to know, I want to get into you.
My friend says you’re a chess player
Papa says you’re a demon slayer,
I want to know what is true,
I want to know, I want to get into you.
Some people shudder at the mention of your name
They say to you, we are just a game.
Now if that is true, that’s quite a shame,
Cause life plus games just cause much pain,
I want to know what s true,
I want to know, I want to get into you.
A book I read says you are the stars
That you watch us here, from that far.
The little girl next door thinks
That you are like her dad and that stinks!
Cause he beats his wife
And causes so much strife;
I want to know what is true,
I want to know, I want to get into you.
Some people say you are the sun
Others say you are the power packed in a gun;
I want to know what is true,
I want to know, I want to get into you.
I’ve seen your word, they say it’s old
That reading it will make you catch a cold,
But I must know, I’ve got to know!
So, I open it open what marvelous things it shows!
You’re simply a father
A father with a huge plan
To convince the critics, the bland
That your love for them will always stand…..

Keep reading →

One of those mornings
I woke up that Monday morning feeling rather reluctant to leave my bed. I just lay there and wished the dawn would remain so forever and I wouldn’t have to go to work ever again!
Slowly reality set in- I remembered the stack of unpaid bills waiting for me in my desk drawer, plus my Landlord wasn’t quite the lenient kind, I needed no further prompting so I hauled myself, albeit reluctantly out of bed and dashed into the bathroom. Icy water on my body completed the waking process. One look at the clock staring accusingly at me from its mantle piece perch told me I barely had time to brush my hair and rush out the door; breakfast was definitely out, as usual!
There was the expected crowd at the bus stop. I scanned the hurried faces for some of the usual commuters as I waited for my bus to come along. I was an hour thirty minutes away from the office. If I got a vehicle immediately, I would make it to the office just in time (taking into consideration third main land bridge traffic) and maybe have a few seconds to gulp down a cup of coffee… I was thinking to myself when a fairly new Toyota starlet stopped directly in front of me as though on cue.
“Palm grove?” I bent toward the driver and asked even as people swarmed toward the vehicle.
“Enter, forty naira!”
I couldn’t believe my luck. I hadn’t even been there for upwards of ten minutes! Now the vehicle was not the usual taxi or commercial vehicle. It was a private car whose driver-I presumed-wanted to make some extra bucks as he rode to work that morning-little did I imagine the drama that lay ahead.
I climbed into the back which already had two male passengers. A lady sat in front with the driver. We hadn’t gone very far when the driver began asking for our fare. The woman in front was first to hand him her money. The drama started there…the following dialogue then ensued between driver and female passenger.
Driver: “how much you give me so?”
F.P: “no be hundred naira I talk say I go pay you?”
Driver: “abeg pay me my complete money. I tell you say na one fifty you go pay”
F.P: “abeg I no get one fifty, no be for Ojota I go comot?”
Dear readers, we were heading toward motorways on the Ibadan expressway from Alausa secretariat by this time. I didn’t sense anything unusual in their argument-it was a regular occurrence in Lagos where most commuters vented most of their frustration on the taxi/bus drivers and vice versa. My ears perked up however when the argument took another turn.
The driver stopped the vehicle close to Eleganza Company and went to open the boot where the woman had her ‘goods’ while asking her to disembark from his car.
Driver: “oya come carry your load waka, trouble maker.”
F.P: “ok come enter make we go, I go pay you one fifty greedy man!”
The driver returned with a frown creasing his oily brows.
Driver: “madam na wetin you talk say you carry for those cartons?”
The woman eyed him in disdain as she answered him. “na pampers”
Driver: “but no be wetin I see for inside the carton.”
F.P: (in a not so assured voice) na wetin you see for inside ehn. And na how you take see wetin dey inside?”
Driver: “no be pampers dey inside, na dollars!»
The two men sitting behind with me echoed their shock and disbelief in a chorused exclamation. “Eeehn!” As though on cue from an unseen movie director.
By this time I had begun to sense something was wrong. I decided to sit still and act unperturbed. The driver threatened to hand over the woman to the cops at the next stop. She acted tough for a while and then broke down and began to cry, pleading with the driver to pity her.
F.P: “I be ashawo (prostitute). I bin meet one Hausa man wey talk say make I marry am. Sniff. I marry am my brother, we live together for two years until one day, sniff, im bin bring two oyinbo (white men). Dem say make I f--k dog say dem go video am pay me big money. I no gree na im my husband com beat me well, lock me for one room. Na that room I take see some cartons wey dollars dey inside. I carry this one wey e dey inside boot, jump window comot.
The unmistakable sound of silence briefly filled the air after she finished her narrative. The two men behind exchanged amazed glances, one actually glanced my way maybe to gauge my reaction but I kept a blank face and just stared straight ahead. What is going on, I thought to myself trying not to panic.
Driver: “the thing be say we go share the money. I go drop these people for the next junction then I go carry you go where we go take share the money”. At this the two ‘gentlemen’ burst out angrily.
1st GM: “driver you dey craze o. why you wan drop us ehn?”
2nd GM: “yes, e don reach money talk now you wan drop us. We are all in this together so we all share the money.” A glance in my direction, he addressed me. “Abi my sister na wetin you talk?”
I shrugged my shoulders noncommittally but did not utter a word. By this time the driver had started moving again. I was seriously calculating my options; I was now certain these were con people who were looking for a greedy prey.
Thankfully we had almost gotten to motorways where there were people and policemen, plus traffic was a bit slow so I summoned up courage and in my most commanding not too steady tone ordered the driver to drop me off at the junction close to the cops.
He looked at me from the rear mirror and asked me, “Sister are you afraid?” I laughed inwardly but replied with a question of my own coated with a thin covering of bravado, “afraid of what?”
“Just stop me at that corner where those policemen are standing” Was I ever so happy to see uniformed men? They seemed like princes from Wales and I could have hugged them but was deterred by a glance at my wristwatch which told me I had lost ten precious minutes.
I got off and started breathing again. “Una dey craze, na me una wan carry do mugu, oloshi!”
All these happened in less than ten minutes but it seemed like ten hours to me.
Phew!
Did I turn around and head back home? Nah! I immediately began the hustle for another vehicle. I had to get to work anyhow…after all, man must wack!

Keep reading →

The POeT’s Bloggers Idol kicks off on Monday 16^th July 2007 and it promises to be exciting with 14 contestants on the verge of exposing their talent to the world. It has taken me time to look through all the submissions and I have finally picked 14 out of personal discretion which I believe would be very subjective to my taste and style (well, since I am the one doing the giving without any sponsor (lol)) but in other to get the best out of these 14 guyz that I have picked, I would need my dear audience to choose who they believe should cart away the 33K naira payable in full. Let’s take a peep on how the competition goes;

Keep reading →

Bolaji Osinuga’s Master Piece: Please read on….

Keep reading →

I dont know this guy from Adam but when I asked him to do a write-up on Forex today. He obliged me with this beautiful piece. Please readers, kindly say thank you to Jerome Obada; words can not mention how grateful I am. Enjoy as you venture into the world of Forex - over to you JO:

Keep reading →