7 Things About A Versatile Awardee

otu, abuo, ato, ano.....

Oh happy days! I was recently nominated by 2 of my fellow bloggers (Stelzz and Che)  for the Versatile Blog Awards. Una too much jare. May your lot in life be award, reward, forward and never hospital ward or coward or backward. Or even way-ward. Amen!

This award comes with the proviso that I tell everyone 7 things about myself and nominate 15 other bloggers. The latter is very easy – I refer everyone to the blogs on my blog-roll (to the right of this page). The former – 7 things about myself – is a hard ask. For one, you would notice that I never really talk about myself on this blog. I endure a reluctant passion towards self-promotion. Okay, let me see if I can find up to 7 interesting things to say about myself. I took a template from a blog which had also been given the award, so that I could create a question and answer session. So I get to interview me.

  1.     Favorite Color: Blue is the color. Blue jeans, blue bed sheets, blue shirt. And of course I am the biggest Blues fan (Chelsea). I am an avid Chelsea fan, and yes I was supporting them before Roman (yep I know him on a first name basis) bought them (us) over and injected money for transfers. In fact I started supporting Chelsea in 1997 when Gianluca Vialli joined from Serie A. Someone (an Arsenal fan who had never even been to the departure lounge of Murtala Mohammed Airport, to talk less of the Emirate Stadium or Highbury) once remarked that you are not a real fan until you have gone to see your team play – that statement irked me, so I am happy to say that I have been to Stamford Bridge (the home of football) to see my beloved Chelsea play. I also got good seats, courtesy of my friend whose Uncle is a season ticket holder, so I was pitch-side. I was at that Blackburn Rovers game where Ashley Cole got injured and Shevchenko missed a million easy chances (yawn). I kept trying to get Mikel’s attention through-out the game by shouting in Igbo whenever he dribbled near when I was sitting “Nwanne m, biko nye tu m pounds sterling”


Though blue is my favorite color, it also depends on the item. I for one wouldn’t wear blue leather shoes, though I could rock a light or navy blue suit. I also wouldn’t dare snog a female wearing blue lipstick (there is something about blue lipstick that ‘fears’ me; I think it has something to do with that poisonous kiss Nagin the snake girl gave a man in the Indian movie “Nagin” that made his lips turn blue before he died). So for different things, I have different favorite colors. I used to have a thing for chocolate or olive skinned girls (Latinas not Naija girls using bronze ‘pancake’ make-up); however I prefer white chocolate (Hershey’s Kisses); for cars, I prefer silver or black (but any color if it is a Mercedes though); I like red lingerie on my lass; for ice-cream, strawberry is my thing; I prefer white to yellow garri but I would rather eat amala (the darker, the better); I also prefer white teeth on a female (go figure); my mp3 player is black but it is full of blues music; I prefer blondes to brunettes or red-heads; I like LBDs, and nude lipstick on chicks. I like egg-shell white for room walls, and my favorite Hula Hoops flavor is the one with the green packet. I also like the Nasco biscuit with the blue packet best. Red velvet is an igbotic color for a living sofa. For couches, I prefer coffee brown.

2.  Favorite song: There are so many, I can’t choose. It cuts across genres so I will pick 10 Nigerians songs I really like in no order. Deal?


  • M.I. – Imperfect Me
  • Danny Wilson – Mr. Raggamuffin
  • Duncan Mighty – Ijeoma
  • Sauce Kid – Won so pe
  • Wiz Kid – Holla at your boy
  • Junior N Pretty – Monika
  • Onyeka Onwenu  Iyogogo
  • Bigiano – Shayo
  • Tybesmen – Na which kain life be this
  • Fela – Beast of no nation


By the way, I am really feeling a particular song right now. You should have a listen when you can. It is by an act called Foster The People and the song is called “Pumped Up Kicks.”

Great for blasting out of your car stereo on a warm summer day with the windows down. Unless you are creeping through some tough Lagos neighborhoods. 

I would like to see an M.I and Modenine duet album – that would be fire. Hands up if you would like hear music from a super-group made up of Jim Iyke, Goldie, Shan George and Omotola. Meeeeee!

3.  I know that a few of you find this blog funny, but I am more Frank Sinatra than Frank Spencer or Frank Olize – I like to do things my way. Often times, I find that I have different tastes than the average person, and I really thrive on daring to be different.  I do have quirky tastes. Small example, I don’t think Kim Kardashian is all that; in fact I think Khloe is the hotter sister. In the Archie comic series, I always rooted for Reggie. In the cartoon series “Battle of the Planet”, I always taught that Jason was cooler than Mike. The yellow and green lions are were my favourite in Voltron, and I cant stand Apple I-pods due to I-tunes (I think Sony makes better music players). I open my box of cereal from the bottom up. I didn’t wear socks for a long time because I don’t get them (I do now). When I download an album, I remove the hit singles from my playlist. I make my bed after I get up no matter how untidy the rest of the room is. I try to follow my intuition because from experience when I follow people’s advice, I get burned. I only ask people for advice if I am absolutely clueless or just to flatter them into a feeling of self-importance. I have got no patience, and I hate waiting. I don’t like being told what to do.


I learnt how to drive by stealing the car keys from the driver as a 15 year old, and rolling out with my little posse of pals. I had one or two mini-accidents (give and go) but I was driving from Surulere to Victoria Island, Ikeja and Lekki by my 6th try.


Me dad ordered me to go to driving school regardless or he would bar me from taking any of the cars out. I was livid. Driving school was hell for me because I felt it was a waste of time, as I could already drive but the tutor, a stout, Igbo man called Mr. Ignatius was a kill-joy who wanted me to obey every sign, slow down to a halt at every intersection, and never speed up even on a busy road. He even refused to permit me change gears past gear 3. This tutor was born to be a driving school instructor because he wore thick soles driving shoes with looked like Scholls, and wore driving gloves too. I nicknamed him Mr. Ignition because anytime I disobeyed his command, he would shout “Cut the ignition” and stamp on the spare brake on his side of the car). He would bellow in  Igbo-English “Press the clush, before you change the jear” or “ you have not yet mastered the steering wheel, drive with ya two hands.”


After 2 weeks, the man had had enough because I did the opposite of whatever he asked, and he said that he didn’t think I would ever make a good driver. Well I have disappointed him now, because I have more mileage than a Chanchangi airplane. Haha.

4.  I like good food.  There is a Greek proverb that says “he who does not like women or wine is a fool.” I gbadun the latter. I believe food should be painstakingly prepared – and I am about quality and not quantity. I used  dodge going to the dining hall at boarding school. I always looked in horror at the way the kitchen matron served and dished the food from a huge aluminum tureen, like it was mass production.  It was a real mess of pottage if I ever saw one, and I was not selling my birthright for that. When it comes to the economics of food, I prefer specialization to mass production. That’s how I learnt how to cook. I was tired of my roommate in Uni serving horrible portions and cooking up tongue twisters in the name of jollof rice.This dude was throwing in every ingredient he could find into a pot and creating a mish-mash. He would go over to our neighbors in the next BQ and ask for oil, then run over to the next flat and collect yam, and then he would throw them in in pot, add rice, and pour ketchup in.


One day, I had had enough. People ask me how I learnt how to cook so well. When hunger catches you, you will cook by force. I really should invite one of my readers over for dinner.

5. Favorite pet – I must confess I am not really into pets. Dogs poo all over the place, and while I like cats because you have to earn their trust, they don’t really send you, do they?  Plus their piss smells worse than the loo at Murtala International Airport. Plus if you have superstitious or paranoid neighbors, they may think that you are a winch for owning a cat. No I am not one of those people who think that animals belong in a zoo or a cooking pot depending on the type.  There are some exotic animals I would like for pets, like  a potbellied pig (elede) or a parakeet (parrot) or an eagle. The unfinished building next to my house is infested with agama lizards and rats, so feeding the eagle would not be a problem.

To answer the question, I don’t have a pet and I don’t send them, so I would say my favorite pet is my baby sister. She is now 21 and has started knowing boys, so I am now the uncool older brother. I recall when I used to go see her at her boarding school in QC on visiting day, and smuggle her fast food, and laugh as I watch her and her friends demolish everything in my car. But recently, I ran into her at Rhythm Unplugged with her friends, and she said a cute hello, before disappearing. I sniffed my armpits, and checked out my gear. Like I am not looking embarrassing, am I?

6. I have a scar on my forehead. It isn’t really visible now because it stems from a childhood incident from when I was just 5. After watching Christopher Reeves in Superman, I wanted to transform and take flight. I begged my dad to buy me the Superman costume, and fantasized about all the places I would fly to – Apapa Amusement park, Bar Beach, the Walls Ice Cream or Samco factory. My dad never bought me the outfit. I then asked for the Captain Afrika one, and my old man still refused.


One day playing with my cosuins in their house, I had a eureka moment. Feeling like Led Zeppelin, I tied my aunt’s wrapper around my neck, and started diving about. The momentum from one of my dives took me smashing through a sliding glass. I was in a coma for 2 days and sustained injuries on my forehead and kness.

My best mate’s experience when he was a youngster is worse. He and his elder brother were ‘fencing’ with broomsticks as their swords, trying to act like the 3 Musketeers. Egbon no de carry last, so his brother poked him in the eye with the broomstick. He still has a spot in his eye till this day, and it especially shows whenever he smokes gbana.

By the way, have you guys ever heard this joke? A mother was telling her 9 year old son a story about when he was much younger. She said “ When you were about 2, you fell really sick, and had pneumonia and malaria. You had to be admitted to a hospital, and put on a drip. You were really ill.”

The son looked at his mum and asked “Mummy, did I die?” Ok sorry, just thought I would throw it out there.

 7.    I must confess that I have run out of things to add to make up the list, so let me un-ashamedly say that I am a huge ‘Jersey Shore’ fan. There I said it. I really don’t have a lot of time for reality TV shows. I prefer blood, guts and glory (like  Spartacus) or history (The Tudors) but Jersey Shore is a good watch, I must say.

So there you have it. Enough about me, pease could everyone, use the above Q & A format to tell me what their favorite things are


Do Me (2)

Just try am, you go see pepper today

When my little cousin was about to go off to University, I called her and gave her some advice. Nothing too preachy; just some basic rules for keeping safe from sexual predators and pervy hawks.  I am a lad, and I know all the tricks of the game: nobody was pimping my little cousin. She later confessed  that the advice I gave her helped her and some of her friends she shared them with, and were gems that should be codified into a journal or something. Ah bless.

Seeing the rising incidents of rape and sexual assault, I have decided to draw up this set of rules for the benefit of my reading audience. Guys could have a read too, but they won’t be needing them unless they are super-star entertainers or billionaires. Naija girls won’t molest you unless you are loaded or famous, abi?

  1. Guard your grill: Nas said “school your sons, teach your girls karate”. Every girl should know how to defend herself if cornered.  I know that is easier said than done, because a Nigerian man on a rape mission is like Oge Okoye and ‘runs girl’ films. And fighting off more than one guy may be asking too much of any member of the fairer sex (unless the girl is built like Apolonia). But I have always told my little sister and my girl the following: You don’t have to know Krav Maga, kung fu or gidigbo to ward off attackers. You can gorge the man’s eyes with your pinkie, thumb and index fingers. If you have one of those manicured fake acrylic nails, put it to good use girl. Or you can yank the attacker’s nuts sack(scrotum). Any brute would cry like a baby if this is done properly, I don’t care if he is built like Gentle Jack or Torino. A quick tugging motion diagonally is all that is needed, with all the strength you can muster. Think of it, like you are yanking a Birkin bag off another girl’s hands at a 60% off sales event. That should do it.

This would only work if your attacker is a man. If it is another female trying to rape you, sorry o.

You can also attack his legs, by stamping his knee caps so hard  that they break inwards. Do this if you are both standing. If you are wearing Loubotins with 4 inch heels, stick them in and twist, till the rapist bleeds. Loubs don’t come with red heels for nothing. This one is risky though – do not try if you are wearing fake or knock-off brands, as the heels may break instead. Don’t try either if you are wearing Gladiator sandals.

I wonder why in a country that produces red pepper, tatashe, really red hot chili and suya pepper, we do  not have an indigenous pepper spray firm. Such a company would make a killing in sales. Maybe I should become a ‘consultant’ to any interested investors because girls would rush pepper sprays like they do Blackberries and weaves. Yeah I can see it – Esco’s Anti-rape Suya Pepper spray. I could do a partnership with the makers of Baygon insecticide. Or maybe I should name the pepper spray “Be-Gone” instead. Have you seen the way those things maul roaches?

I would have advocated that a Nigerian company produced stun guns for personal defense, but I thought about it and remembered NEPA/ PHCN. See how that went? Nigeria has a problem with electricity so how can we think of making electric stun guns. Maybe unless we have one that uses fuel  to generate the electric shock, just like an “I Better Pass My Neighbor” generator.

2.  Don’t go to a guy’s crib alone especially if you don’t plan on getting down. Yes I am talking to you. Girls need to stop deceiving themselves by saying that guys should be able to hold themselves no matter what. Honey, flee from all manners of temptations and danger. As Segun Arinze used to say in those old Nollywood flicks, “do not enter the snake pit unless you want to tango with the Cobra”. Or trouser snake.

By the way, Segun Arinze used to refer to himself as The Cobra. He looks nothing like a cobra, unless he is referring to its hood.

3.  Don’t underestimate any chap, and write them off as harmless or platonic friends. Any guy who is not related to you (ok, there are exceptions but I hope thunder would fire them) could try to sleep with you. Body nor be firewood. Some girls delude themselves by trying to compartmentalize their male friends. “Oh, Sabifok and I are like best friends, he would never think about it. I even knew his ex- girlfriend.”  Meanwhile you are wearing “cross-no-gutter” mini-skirts in front of this dude. Babes, buru gawa jor.

And don’t deceive yourself thinking that this guy is built like Teju Philips while you are thickset like Monique, so there is no way he could overpower you. Agro makes super-humans of timid people. I refer you to the Konji Principle, Volume 2.

 4.  Always hold your trans-card (or transport fare) or have a means of transport, if you are going to see a dude. Some guys use the threat of not dropping the chick off to force the lass into sleeping over. Keep your phone charged too, and have some credit for goodness sake. Try keeping 2 phones if you can preferably, Glo and another network. For some girls, this may be damn near impossible, especially if it is the dude that paid for your phone and credit in the first place. Good luck.

5.  Do not bait guys by aiming to “chop his money” and flee. Many guys are gracious in ‘defeat’ but there are nutcases out there, who believe in ‘tits for tat”. Get it? Tits for tat. In other words, it takes two hands to wash each other properly. A chap called Chima used to hook his rich 419 cousin with girls from his uni. His cousin Shaba would treat the overwhelmed girl to shopping and dates, and then take them home for a shag-fest. Until Chima introduced Shaba to this really street-smart girl called Ijeoma. Shaba took her shopping to various stores where she picked up clothes, a really smart watch and some make up accessories. She complained that she needed provisions and toiletries for school, so he obliged her.

He drove her back to his house for ‘desert’ and that’s where the drama started. She refused to let him get down, and acted like she was surprised he was bringing all this up. She thought all his kind gestures had been a friendly act. Shaba was having none of that, and keep trying to take her top off. So Ije told him to give her a second, while she used the bathroom.

Shaba strolled to the fridge to fix himself a drink, when he heard a loud noise like a smash. He rushed to the bathroom, and broke the door in. Ije had been trying to bail through the toilet window, and had smashed the water closet as she stood on it to elevate herself. She was lucky not to have sustained any injury. Shaba was amazed – the toilet was on the first floor (2nd to yankee people). Ije smiled sheepishly.

Shaba dragged her back into the bedroom, and she had to give it up sharp sharp. What a jerk! 

6.  And if despite all of the above, the unfortunate deed happens, make sure you tell someone. If you have elder brothers, let them know. If you have cousins who are in confra, let them know, and point them to the house of the person. If you have a Chief who wants to marry you and has been making advances, let him know so he can organize his thugs. Trust me, there is no shame towards a rape victim. Nigeria has evolved – we have entertainers dressing up half-naked and people spilling their life secrets on Twitter. We have a weak central government and a free-for-all economy, so there is no shame in being raped. The supposed stigma is too small/irrelevant for the victim to hide the act and carry a lifetime of pain and distrust of men.

So there you have it. Stay safe and be good.

Do Me

The  raping of a girl in Abia State by a group of 5 lads, allegedly ABSU students  generated a huge uproar some weeks ago. The lads also had the gall to upload a video of the act, sending huge shock waves across Nigeria and the blogging community. A week or more later, a similar act was perpetrated by 2 LASU students, who lured and raped a lass. The events of the past few weeks have served to bring to national consciousness the issue of molestation and rape in Naija.

Rape incidents are not new in Nigeria. The advent of the internet and access by many Nigerians to smart phones and data plans has served to blow incidents that would otherwise be hushed up. Is there something about our culture that makes ‘no’ not mean ‘no’ ? People have argued this same part of our culture heaps a certain kind of stigma on a rape victim, discouraging her (or him) from speaking up or filing a report with the authorities.

In many aspects of Nigerian life, ‘no’ may mean ‘maybe’ or ‘later’ or ‘e go be’, just the same way an appointment to meet someone at 9am, ,may mean 12 noon or 2000 and never. Does this also apply to sexual advances? I mean we have all been brought up on local movies and TV shows, where the chap chases the lass, and in the early stages of ‘toastery’ she acts like she can’t stand him. Some females may even slap the chap at the mention of a date or insult him venomously (see Danny Wilson’s “Raggamuffin” video). Later on, she has a 360 degree change of heart, and they end up shagging/marrying/ or chasing each other at Bar Beach. A young male sees this, nods to himself and takes mental notes: No means ‘it depends.” At first if you don’t succeed,……..try again….

But remember that sometimes, Romeo must die..

Do Nigerian chaps feel entitled to sex once they are in the same room with a lass? An incident happened in England some years back where these 2 Nigerian chaps (Daniel and Akin) went to a club in the West End and pulled 2 oyibo chicks. They took them back home to Daniel’s flat. Akin was staying over briefly, because he had come down from Coventry for a few days. When they got to the crib, Daniel’s chick was ‘co-operating’ with him, so they chilled on the couch playing tonsil tennis. The other girl didn’t want Akin anywhere near her, and spurned all his advances. She didn’t even take her shoes off, and refused the offer to change into a pair of Akin’s shorts.

Time to go to bed, and the lads laid a huge comforter on the living room floor, so that everyone could sleep. It didn’t take long before Daniel and his girl started making out seriously, solving some ‘bedmathic’ solutions. Eventually everyone fell asleep. Not Akin. Around 3am, not able to take it anymore, Akin ‘mounted’ the other girl, slowly pushed her underwear to the side, and started having sex with her. The girl did not say a word or move an inch. When Akin was done, the girl stood up, and went to the bathroom. When she returned, she tapped her friend to wake her up, and announced that they should leave because she had just been raped. Pandemonium galore.

Her friend grabbed a mobile phone and started calling the police. Akin and Daniel ‘begged’ these chicks from 3.30am in the morning till like 8am. Dem no gree o.They called the police, and that’s how Akin was arrested. From Daniel’s flat in Kensal Green to the police station to Old Bailey court.  He is presently in Belmarsh prisons, at the custody of Her Majesty. Like Tuface Idibia once crooned: Ogogoro be like woman; if you shack am, you go high o.

Incidents like this have been occurring in Nigeria for ages with a different outcome. The chaps would ‘beg’ or threaten the girl, and that usually would be the end of the matter. There is this girl I know who once told me that she was raped by her brother’s friend who she had a crush on, when she was just 16. She was in S.S 2 then, and the chap was a 2nd year student in University. She had stopped over at the guy’s house after school. The guys and 2 of his friends all took turns shagging her in the living room, and then she ran home crying but didn’t tell a soul. She said she had buried the terrible memory in the deepest pits of her subconscious.

What?! I asked her why she didn’t tell her elder brother or her folks. She confessed that her brother would have been really pissed and brushed off her allegation saying something like  “Nto gi, why did you go to his house in the first place. It is good for you’. Her folks would have sneered ‘ Ashewo, your waka waka don carry you enter gbese abi. If you like, next time make you no come home straight from school.’ What kind of family is that? The Adams Family or the Fuji House of Commotion?

The act of forcing a girl to have sex against her will occurs far more often in Nigeria than one imagines. A girl comes over to see a guy whom she is not even dating, and is ‘coerced’ into ‘dropping’ .Or some rude guy hands the girl a refreshment in her hand, as he is shoving his penis into her mouth.

There are many other examples. Guys who coerce the girl into having sex by refusing to drop her off, or shutting the exit doors, and falsely imprisoning her. Or the  case of the rich aristo chief who took a girl on a shopping spree at the Palms. When they got back to his hotel suite, he started taking off his agbada, and strapping on a Gold Circle condom. When the girl tried to protest saying “Ah, Chief, I am not in the mood o; besides I have a yeast infection”, the Chief barked as he shoved his manhood towards her pelvis “Ehen? And then? Ti ya n’ime!!!”

Chief had 4 rounds that night.

Or when a girl says  “I have the ketchups, so we can’t even have sex”, there are guys who would counter “That is all well and good but what do I tell junior who is now stiff”.

As lads, we have to exercise self-control even if a girl comes to spend the night dressed like Tiwa Savage in her new video for ‘Love Me, Love Me, Love Me.” We have to keep that trouser snake sheathed. A cold shower is better than a cold cell.

Throughout history, many famous or successful men have fallen from grace after they were indicted and imprisoned for rape crimes. Tupac and Mike Tyson are moot examples. After Tyson went to jail for rape, he lost his boxing mojo, and was never the same prized fighter again, and took to biting ears like Goldie songs. He now rears pigeons. He lost bouts to boxers who would have beaten previously with his eyes closed. Even Bash Ali would have had a good chance of beating Tyson.

To prove how heinous the act of rape is, rapists are treated as the lowest of the low in the social hierarchy in American prisons. Once your fellow inmates ask you what you are in jail for, and you mention rape, you would get assaulted and picked on, or even shanked with a sharp object by other prisoners. Only child molesters have a worse reputation than rapists. Put it this way, even a prisoner who is serving time for stealing an 80 cent loaf of bread is treated better than a rapist. I don’t know how they would be treated in a Nigerian prison though. I mean corrupt politicians have been raping the economy and our treasury, and the few that went to jail for it had thanksgiving dinners in Kirikiri.

A lot of chaps have gotten burned by misconstruing a girl’s intentions. Chaps that like to look for an imaginary ‘green light’ in the girl’s posture, often get the wrong message that the girl is DTF (check “Jersey Shore” for the full meaning). Some guys have a problem discerning what is green light or even light at all. If a girl so much as looks as them, they would sprout something like “Abi, una done see? This babe dey fall for me, mehn. I go carry am go lodge.”

There should be a condom that has a small print on it which says ‘Girl has now consented to sex, so hereby executes the contract by tearing open this section.”

The magic condom would only be operable by females. It would probably have a seal that guys find damn near impossible to open, and only females can, a bit like a bra strap’s hook.

Until then, we have to treat our women with respect, and condemn all acts of sexual assault and rape on our sisters. I want to commensurate with the 2 girls who were forcefully violated, and I hope that the only silver  lining behind all this unfortunate events would be a greater support for rape victims, general public enlightenment on the subject of sexual assault and a re-orientation of our police agencies on how to investigate and treat the crime of rape including offering counselling and victim support.

I have a bit more to say on this subject, as will be covered in 2nd part. Till then I dedicate the following song lyrics to any of our Nigerian sisters suffering any hurt as a result of molestation. Keep your head up.


Princess of the Nile/

And sweet black sexy child/

Ooh I like your style/

First mother on the planet/

I know it’s getting scary/

And all these wannabe pimps is all that you meet/

But you have got to shake them off like fleas and nigga meat/

And use your God-given talents and abilities/

No matter where you’re from, you get much respect/

Coolio (For My Sistas, 1995)

The Pounded Yam And Pure Water Awards (10)



  • I read somewhere recently that the United Nations is to recommend China’s one child policy to Nigeria. This may not be a bad idea after-all,  because there are too many impoverished couples with a football team number of kids whom they can scarcely afford to take care of. You see people in rural areas who can barely scrape a living, but  the husband and wife have a set of children who are almost the same age – 12, 11, 10 and 6 months, 9, 8.5, 5,4, 3.

There was a man in my village like that. He had 6 kids all close to the same age, and his wife was knocked up again. Here he was begging me for money for school fees for his kids and to start a business, but his wife was only 27, and she had dropped 6 kids already.

The kids came one by one to the living room as he introduced them to me: “You people should come and greet your uncle from Lagos, and thank him because he brought us groundnut and bread. Esco, this is the first born, his name is Monday.”

And I kid you not, so it continued. The next one’s name was Friday. All of the male kids had the days of the week as their names, except the 2 girls who were named after months – Augustina and Julie (July, as he pronounced it).

Looking at his wife’s huge pregnant stomach, I sneered as I said “And let me guess, that one would be called D-day.”

His wife laughed uneasily, and the man hissed. By the next Xmas season, the foetus in the belly (D-Day) had a younger sibling too. He was named Valantyne (Valentine).

Forget all these condom and contraceptive programs by the Ministry of Health, our government should start preaching self-control instead of birth control. Having a large family has its own distinct advantages, once you have the means to cater for all – I am from a large family, but I know how stressful beginning of school terms was for my folks – school fees for kids always ran into 5 -6 figures.

Going to school in the morning was always a huge logistics nightmare. My old man had to buy a Hiace bus to ferry us all. First the seats had to be removed, and new rows of seats welded in to create room, just like Danfo buses. And shopping for food in my house was like shopping for an owambe party. Traders in the market fought against each other, and competed to get my mums custom because her average monthly shop was usually like this: 6 fowls, a bag of rice, a bag of yellow garri, 15 tubers of yam, a 300 liter gallon of palm oil. Before the days of frozen chicken, it was a whole fowl per meal to feed everyone, and even the last child ended up with the chicken head and comb. Haha

 Another disadvantage was having to wear hand-me-downs. To save cost, you may have to wear your older’s siblings old clothes, while they rocked trendier new season gear. Except if your elder sibling was a smaller size than you, and then they rocked hand-me-ups which is even more humiliating. Despite being a guy, I still didn’t escape hand-me-downs from my older sister. Relax your mind, no, I wasn’t a cross dresser or Ken or anything. Bata by Choice sandals and shoes were mostly unisex, you see. Advise: keep your family unit small.

I am all for everybody’s right to procreate and spread their glorious seed across the earth but it is my personal philosophy that your whole family should fit into a car. Husband driving, wife riding shotgun, and the 2 or 3 kids at the back. I said car, as in sedan car, and not a jeep o! Not a Kia Picanto, Daewoo Racer or Nissan Q45 (House on wheels). My model family size would be Uncle Phil’s in the TV series The Fresh Prince of Bel Air, or to hit close to home, who can remember the Bako family of 4 who undertook a Nigerian road trip through the states of the federation in that primary school Macmillan’s English textbook?

  • I have decided to eat healthier and cut down on carbs, espousing a diet filled with vegetables. I like to cook sometimes, and I have started doing a mean stir-fry. Ingredients needed – low cholesterol vegetable oil, mushrooms, onions, shrimps, green and red bell peppers, onions, minced meat, mixed vegetables (carrots, broccoli, peas). All you need is a Wok pan and some decent spices, and Esco’s secret recipe. If you add and ask me nicely on Twitter, I would send you my recipe.Below is a picture of stuff I put together myself. I know my presentation is off, but I am not a star chef, besides blame it on the poor Blackberry camera. I should cook dinner for one of you sometime.

Veg and ranch sauce - Esco special

It is an expensive way to eat in these expensive times, but hospital bills are equally as expensive. I put fuel in my car, and not kerosene, so why should my body ingest less?

I decided to cut back on snacks and sugar because I was finding it hard to lace my shoes and breathe at the same time. Haha. Eddie Murphy once said that if you wanted to know how fat you were, look at your stomach when you are sitting on a toilet bowl. Some weeks ago, after a heavy dinner of swallows, I screamed when I saw my girth, while in the loo. I looked like half a bag of pure water. I have embraced better eating habits, and the occasional work out thrown in.

And I am eating healthier to improve fitness and not just finesse. In fact my new mantra towards my health goals is lifted straight from a Ghostface Killah song lyric: Hit the gym for 2 weeks, come back chiseled/ elbows unique, meet the new me….


And I feel like a million bucks. I recently needed to dash out somewhere for an appointment, and got to my car and remembered that I had forgotten something upstairs. I dashed up he flight of stairs in a jiffy without breaking a sweat, and without puffing for breath. You should have seen the way I was celebrating at the top of the staircase. It was like the Philadelphia steps scene from the movie Rocky.

Now if only older 1004 estate in Victoria Island still existed, I would have tried to test my new fitness levels. The elevators never worked in the old 1004.

  • Seeing as the Super Eagles have fallen our hands after failing to qualify on Saturday for the 2012 African Nations Cup, I have shifted my attention to my new love – Pro Evolution Soccer 2012.This soccer game for the Sony Playstation and Xbox 360 consoles came out 2 weeks ago in America. What a game!

I don’t know how many of you play video games, but if you are into your football, this is the Ferrari of soccer games. By the way, I have also played FIFA 2012 and it sucks. It is glossy but lacks substance. Let me put it this way, FIFA is like moi moi with eggs and corned beef inside but cooked in a tin, and served as beans casserole. PES 2012 is like plain moi moi with no filler, nice steamed in the traditional plantain leaf, over a nice stack of burning firewood.

I have been handing out beat-downs to challengers online on Xbox Live. So if any of you want to throw down, my gamer tag is EscoWoah. Yep, your neighbourhood “Literati:Satires On Nigerian Life” is now on Xbox Live. Next stop,  Sonny Iraboh Live, Saturday Night Live, then Hollywood (or Nollywood), Android and I-tune applicaions,  then clothing brands, toys, franchises, books, journals. Say Ameen!


If you are online, please let’s have a game. If you are one of those glory hunter players who only choose Barcelona, Real Madrid, AC Milan or Man U, worry not – I have something for you. I recently beat 4 consecutive gamers who chose Barcelona, and I used Athletico Madrid and Bordeaux.

It is also available for the Iphone, I-pad or I-pods as a free download initially, and then you have to pay 3.99 pounds (about N1000) for the full game. You should try it. Don’t say Esco doesn’t try to hook you up.

You no try


  • About 32.5million Nigerians are unemployed, the Nigerian National Bureau of Statistics (NBS) has said recently. They should make that 32,503,000 because  Airtel recently sacked 3000 employees prompting an investigation by the House of Reps. Unemployment is a huge problem in Nigeria, and our government are just folding their arms clueless about the scale of the problem.  Unemployed or  idle youngsters are more dangerous than Boko Haram or Niger Delta militants

I actually believe the the NBS’s figure is modest. When I heard them say 32.5m, my first thought was, is that number for Lagos or the whole of Nigeria? Drive down some parts of Lagos in the early hours of the morning, and you would see scores of people just chilling, looking on. Our figures for those out of work are way more than that amount. I personally know about 100,000 people that are not gainfully employed, and they have cousins, sisters and uncles.  People just don’t have anything doing, and if everyone should open a business, who would be the customers? Where is the capital by the way? A lot of Nigerians are idle, and that’s why when there is an incident or accident in a public place, you see swathes of by-standers surrounding the place for hours on end. Una nor get work?

And not just the rural areas, the problem is also with the middle class as well. I know people that returned from completing their post-grad degrees abroad, and could not get jobs. Many returned back. People in Lagos especially put up a façade, and would tell you that they are ‘consultants’ or general contractors, when in fact they do nada. Some of those unemployed 32.5million include your Lagos-town fashionistas, social circuit huggers and red carpet aladins.  Dem no dey write ‘umemployed’ for face. Some people are working but not employed. What is the difference? They have an office that they go to, but they have not been paid salaries or received any benefits in months.

The unemployment situation worsened with the shake-ups in the banking sector in 2009, when several CEO’s were removed for alleged gross embezzlement, banks started laying off staff by the thousands. It has continued to present.  It is anomaly of epic proportions that we have youths willing to go to school in this country, some reading up to doctorate level, but there are not nearly enough jobs to go round.

And if you have your dream job, do not turn your nose up at the un-employed. Being employed in Nigeria these days seems to be about who you know, than what you know., and not about merit. Also being at the right place at the right time with the right company helps too. Some years ago when he was the president, Obasanjo went to a state in the north to commission a project. He was taking questions from reporters when a lady who had just completely NYSC interjected that she was frustrated because she was looking for work. OBJ commanded his security detail to find her a job asap. “Strings” (I didn’t say g-strings o) were pulled, and the lady was hooked up with a plum position in Abuja. I am looking for Obama.

  • Girls who refuse to go on dates with you unless it is to the Galleria to watch movies or some swanky restaurant when they can stuff their faces. What is it with some Nigerian girls and refusing to do something different? A few girls seem to think that a date must equal food and film? What happened to peeping the aesthetic, hanging at the beach. Heck, can’t we go to the National Museum at Onikan, so that I could show you Igbo Ukwu Bronze pots, Nok terraculture plus the limousine Murtala was slain in? Or why don’t we head to the National Theatre at Iganmu, and catch an Ola Rotimi play? Nah, she would rather watch a Jon Favreau romantic comedy at Silverbird, but not before we visit the sharwama and popcorn stands.

A friend of mine recently met this girl he really fancied. He decided to take her on a date, and wanted to do something different. They both lived in Abuja, so he had a good idea. Or so he thought

He showed up at the girls house, and picked her up. The girl got into the car, looked at the backseat and screamed “What are you doing with a bed sheet?”

The back seats had a basket filled with a loaf of premium sliced butter bread, butter, crackers, cheese, bubbly, baked beans, sausage, ham, some juice, a small deck and a cloth.

He replied “Nah, it is a table-cloth. I wanted us to go to a park for a picnic.”

She opened her eyes in disbelief “Pick pin? No oh! I can’t go to any park, the sun would make my skin dark. Take me to Ceddi Plaza or somewhere to eat or drop me off.”

He dropped her off. Like a bad habit.

  • People who say “My names are….” I don’t know why certain people do this. They are the sort of people to adhere stupidly to this plural rule, but fail ‘grammatically’ in other instances by saying something like “Are you from where?”

As a social rule of the thumb, never ever say my names are unless you are possessed with a demon or unclean spirit called Legion (they said they were many), or if you are bi-polar, or if you are a blue blooded aristocrat with titles to boot. No, Otunba, Nze, Chief do not count.

  • Ever since I posted up my email address to be contacted for the writing services I offer, I have been inundated with emails from spammers. With subjects names like “Urgent Confidential Respond”, “Lottery Winner”, “Hello Dear” and “Please Get Back to Me”, I have received yahoo yahoo bait emails from fictional Central Bank governors, widows to men with fortunes who need a business partner, and I have even been told that I have won the U.K Visa Lottery (which I don’t remember entering in the first place if it does exist).

To these scammers, if you are reading, why na? I am a P.I.M.P, you can’t pimp me. You cannot spam and scam me at the same time so please quit forthwith. I don’t even read your emails anymore, I just delete them. My dedicated readers who wish me well, you know I love you.