I RAN FOR MY DEAR ASS!

I was a barman in one of the renowned clubs in Victoria Island. Serving drinks to men and women and smiling to please them, even when I shouldn’t, was my duty. I was a Youngman of nineteen, broad-shouldered, tall, with an afro that was always perfectly groomed. People said I looked dashing. I always tried to look my best. It boosted my tips, anyway.

In my profession, we saw all kinds of people; the gropingly rich and the embarrassingly wealthy ones. You may be wondering why I referred to them as ‘embarrassingly wealthy’; this set of people could spend more than half a million box on liquor, but they would never tip. Occasionally, they would give you their cards which, most certainly, you would accept with both hands like golden eggs, but they hardly helped. However, I never got discouraged. I regarded anyone that entered the club as a big boy that might just be my ticket to the ‘big league’. So, I never hesitated to clinch. That was how I met Mr. Uche.

Men will do anything for a glimse. LOL!

WHY IS THE PRESIDENT REFUSING TO DISCLOSE HIS ASSETS?

During a media chat this week, President Jonathan adamantly rejected the idea of disclosing his assets, on the flimsy excuse that it should be a personal decision. In his words, “I don’t give a damn…”

Jonathan appoints Andrew Yakubu as NNPC boss, retires Austen Oniwon

A new management team got approved on Tuesday for NNPC by President Jonathan, with Engineer Andrew Yakubu leading the new team. The special adviser to the president on media, Reuben Abati, announced the appointments made in a bid to strengthen the on-going reforms in the Nigerian Petroleum sector. Unfortunately, Nigerians are fed up with these pretentious moves by a president who is as criminal as the criminals he purports to pursue.

OFFICER IN CHARGE

 

Black, smoky wool covered the sky

And darkness showered from up high

Blind birds lightened the street with mild music

Even the trees could not help but dance to it

The street was dark and deserted at this time

And a woman in black stood by watching for crime

Like a shadow, she stood stern with her black baton

She’d have to mellow, I thought, my mind ranting

“You!’’ I heard. She beckoned to me with authority

“What is it?’’  I thought, still holding my temerity

I LOVE HER

 

O, I love her

I love her like a fresh scar

I love her like a rotten egg

And daily, freedom from her, I beg

I love her bright morning smiles

I love the woes, that daily, she piles

I love how she strongly loves

Withholding her pleasures, and shielding her curves

PANTI IS WORSE THAN HELL!

It is with great sadness that I pick my pen and allow my memory relay this story of overwhelming abyss of pain. The night was of unthinkable blackness in every sense of the word and I was sound asleep without a care in the world. The time was about one ‘0’ clock. The doors were wide open so as to allow the air come in to caress my bare chest. How could I have known I was making myself an easy prey? Of course, I hadn’t committed a crime. I was as law-abiding as the law itself. But they came, with their abysmal fury and lethal steels.

The door-net was flung powerfully open with a speed that could never have been captured by the fastest lens. They marched in, seven hefty, blood-reeking, hideous beings in black with AK-47 rifles, all pointed at me. Uhh! It’s worse than what you can imagine. To make matters worse, a blinding flashlight was pointed at me, driving me to partial oblivion. To say I was shocked would be a gross misconception of my state. It was like a truck-loaded of fear was downloaded on me. I must confess; I died.