Saturday, May 17, 2008

It's been real.

Wow, I've been gone for like 5 months. RIDICULOUS!! My people, I'm sorry that I've been so bad, but I'm so so busy at the moment. There's a whole lot going on with me at the moment, and I wish I could blog as much as I used to but it's just been almost impossible.

I can't believe I wrote my first blog over a year ago. You guys have shown me so much love through your comments, emails and facebook messages. I appreciate it man. I've also made a few good friends here, and to be honest, blogging has opened some doors of its own. I even had my favourite author in the world email me saying she loved my blog! Crazy.

Anyways, I'd just like to say thanks for the love, I love you guys. Like all good things, this blogging thing must come to an end, and I guess the time is now. It's unfair for me to just write sporadically whenever I feel like it. Look out for that book though!

Take care y'all, it's so HARD to say goodbye. I'm sorry I've kept you in limbo for so long. Now I have to get back to interviewing Festus. If he passes he'll become my new houseboy.


'Mr Fineboy.

Friday, January 25, 2008

Live from Lagos; Random Musings

DAAAAAMN! 3 months!!!! I’m effed men! Happy New Year my people. I’m so sorry I’ve been AWOL, but a lot’s been going on with your boy. I’ve been mad busy with things outside of blogger like relocating, running a business, and tweaking my first novel.

What’s good now? It’s been a minute! I’ve missed you guys men. What’s happening in blogsville? Shout out to the bloggers who’ve remained consistent and tried to keep this blogville thing alive. Special shout out to my sweetheart Bella, who’s always on top of her game, constantly updating. Kai, I dey always jealous am!

Christmas was crazy men. Spent it in Nige of course, but it was different ‘cos I knew I was back for good. This Nigeria is crazy men! Real concrete jungle, as in, I’ve witnessed all sorts of madness since last December. I’ve been around for a month now, and this is the longest that I’ve been in Nige in eleven years! Of course it’s weird, but I’m loving it.

It’s funny how quickly I’ve adapted to life in Nige though. Back in the day, when I would come back for Christmas, I’d be giving everybody N500 and N1k. Now. Omo, which side? Na so so N100 and N200 I dey dash people. Abeg I no dey earn dollar again.

The other day I was in traffic in V.I and this little boy came and started spraying liquid soap on my windscreen. I was trying to wave him away, but he wouldn’t go o. He just ignored me until he had squeegeed off the dirty soap water. He now came to my window and stretched out his hand for dough. Of course, as usual my coin compartment was full of twenty and ten naira notes, so I gave the guy ten naira. My people, if you see the abuse wey this small boy fire on top my head ehn? I don suffer.

Boy- Oga na how much be this?


He started to walk away.

Boy- E no go better for you! Ten naira inside this big car. Oloshi Olori buruku……

Me- Ehn? Am I your mate?

Boy- Comot there! Yeye man.

I swear I started to remove my seat belt so I could get out the car, but I come re-think am. Na so some agberos fit just come carry my car go because i wan dey chase one ill-mannered urchin. The boy sef disappeared. I don suffer for Lagos o. I’m glad I’ve become accustomed to Lagos life though. Even my mum says I’m now a real Lagos man. Everyday, new things happen that just amaze me though. If I begin tell una story, we go dey here all day.

One of the things I wondered about when I was moving back was what going out on dates would be like. Like in the states, I had a long mental list of the best restaurants for a first date. Another one for special dates; like birthdays and valentine’s day. I knew where the best movie houses were. Basically, dating came easy.

But in Nige, I was wondering; where would you take a girl on a date? The thing also is, I drive in lagos, but my navigation is limited. I know how to get around VI and Ikoyi. I know VI to Lekki and VGC. I know VI or Ikoyi to Ikeja. FINISH. If you start adding new locations, na wahala. So there was my question; what if babygirl lives in some random place like Akowonjo? How would you find it? Sat-Nav no dey Naija o. Wahala.

That reminds me; hehe, as usual let me digress small… I met ms. Beautiful through a friend in December. Lovely chick, just moved back as well from the states. We met up on a Friday afternoon, and were headed to cactus to get some shawarmas and drink chapman by the water. Kai. Effizy dey Naija o.

Anyhow, we stopped at the Total gas station by the VGC gate, and I told the attendant to fill it up. Ms. Beautiful went into the little shop thingy to get PK gum. So there I was, getting my money ready for the attendant when I hear this thick Hausa accent in my window.

“Oga, you like this one? This one go good po you well well.”

I look up and see this tall mallam dude holding a colourful box. At first I didn’t even see what was on the box properly, then:


My people, I don die. On the cover of the box was a drawing of a naked dude with the biggest GBOLA you’ve ever seen in your life. On top of the drawing was written in bold pink, “VIAGRA.” Ah ah, which kin’ Viagra be this one?

Me- (laughing)- Aboki thank you I no want.

Aboki- Ah, You dey laugh oga mi. This one if you drink am, you go poke, poke, poke, you no go tire.


“Aboki, thank you, I say I no want.”

Aboki- E good o. That ya egba (cane) go dey stand well well. E no go die lai lai.

Me- Ah ah. Aboki, I be young man, I no need am now.

Aboki- I know say you be young man, but you no say your thing no dey reach the last bus stop. If you drink am, e go touch him bus stop well well. Madam go dey cry yeeeeeeeeee, yeeeeee, yeeee no killiiii me ooo.

Were. Who told him “I no dey reach the last bus stop?”

Men, I just wanted the guy to fade quickly before Ms. Beautiful came out of the store.

Aboki-Oga I swear no be lie, this one na gidigba gidigba.. Drink am, e go be like fire for madam yansh.

See me see trouble o. Abi is this guy mad? Ms. Beautiful starting walking towards the car.

Me- Oya oya, aboki carry am go quick quick. My wife don come.

Aboki- Oga mi, walahi talahi, when I drink am for this one, I just dey flog my iyawo with my egba. I just dey flog am, flog am, flog am so tay, the thing no die. She just dey cry " Aaaaaays! Danladi don killi me ooooo! E don finish my life oooo!"

Na God go punish this aboki o! I was winking at the guy to disappear men.

She got in the car. This madman didn’t leave o!!!! He now bent in the window and displayed it fully!

Aboki- Oga, okay you say the money too much. Just give me N200. Your thing go dey fire go like pistol machine, walahi.

Ha! I don die, now this girl is gonna think I was actually negotiating with this mallam o.

Me- My guy, I say I no want.

I looked at the attendant, “This thing isn’t full yet?”

Aboki- Oya oga, what of this one? You talk say your thing dey touch madam last bus stop. Abi madam?

Yeeepa! Oloshi.

The guy stuck out his forearm and clenched his fist, then grabbed his right elbow.

Aboki- This one if you drink am, your gbango go long, e go come stand well well. Berry strong, I no go lie to you oga mi. Madam you see am?

I wanted to die. Ms. Beautiful was just looking straight ahead. Finally the attendant filled up and I paid and zoomed off. For the rest of the ride I was so embarrassed I swear. Good thing is she has a sense of humour and we just laughed it off. Bastard aboki.

Some things only happen in Lagos I swear.

Just the other day I got stopped by the traffic warden at Ozumba Mbadiwe in VI, so he could let traffic through from the opposite side. Just as I stopped, this LASMA guy (the road safety dudes) comes in front of the car and says; “Oga you don commit. You’re using ya mobile.”

Me- Officer, it was an emergency call now. I had to answer it. Oya sorry, sorry.

Officer- Sorry? Hiss.

Dude freaking jumps into the backseat of the car!!! (My boy Roroski was in the passenger seat.)

Me- Ah ah.

Officer- Oya, we’re going to the station. Nonsense. We must impound this vehicle, or I arrest you, or both.

Arrest ko, arrest ni.

Roroski- Officer, shebi we’ve begged you. He got off the phone now.

Officer- My friend, drive! Una small small boys think say because u dey drive big car, u fit dey do anyhow. DRIVE!

The warden waved my lane through, and I just pushed the central lock button.

Me- You wicked abi? We go see who go arrest who today.

Officer- You say wetin?

Me- Hiss.

Now, me and Roroski just started talking, and then I increased the volume of my Sasha P CD.

Officer- Slow down, slow down.

Roroski- Are you mad? Na you get car?

I just dey fire the car through Lekki Epe expressway men. Na so officer begin beg o.

Officer- Chairman, please slow down o. Slow down. We’ve passed the station. Ah.

Me- No o. You be big man now abi? Radio your station. Tell them I’ve arrested you. You’re in trouble today.

Officer- Egba mi o. Ha. Oloun o ma ni je' ari Esu o! Aiye mi!
(God please dont let me come across evil o! My life!)

Officer- Bros! (tapping Roroski on the shoulder) Please help me beg am now. I just dey do my work. Please ehn?

Roroski- Beg ke? E don vex o. Better beg him yourself.

The dude started begging o. I was dying of laughter inside, but I just blanked him.

Officer- My chairman, please I’m sorry ehn. You’re going too far away for me. Please bros, I make a mistake. I don’t know that it’s you. I would have not make the mistake. Please I’m taking God to beg you, my chairman.

Me- Hiss.

The dude was now sweating. I come begin wonder why the guy dey sweat. What was he afraid of? He probably thought my popsi was some military guy that was gonna flog his yansh when we got home. Luckily there was no traffic all the way to VGC, but as I slowed down at the gate to go over a speed hump, the dude just jumped out like a monkey. It was hilarious men.

Me- Ah ah, officer wait! Why did you run now?

The guy bolted away and stood at a distance. Of course all the people in the area were just cracking up. I told him “Officer you’re lucky o. The next time you try me, I will deal with you squarely!” (LOL, I learnt that statement in Naija.)

The guy now starts bowing.

“Sorry sir, I’m sorry.”

As I began to drive into VGC, the guy shouted,

“My chairman, please no vex. Please can you assist me with N150 for okada back to the station?”

Only in Nigeria.

Happy 2008 y’all. It feels so good to be back. Oh and Izie, this one's for you. ;-)

Wednesday, October 03, 2007

Mama Roscoe and other stories...

What's up y'all? To the few people who still check on my blog, wetin dey now? I know I said I was back last week, but it's been hard to sit at my laptop for more than a couple of seconds in the past couple of weeks men. With the blazing heat, beautiful women and full time jollofing in Yankee, I haven't been able to bring myself to type tory for una men, but no vex.

I can't front; a few months ago I would have found the time to update no matter where in the world I was. It's just not the same anymore though. It's not that I don't enjoy blogging anymore, it's just that everytime I get on I realise how much everything has changed around here. Alaye's gone for good, Taurean Minx is now a full time photoblogger, Chameleon doesn't update as much, Bella and Idemili went private, and Bimbylads puts up novel excerpts now. I love you Bimbs, but I miss the razz old Bimbylads of back in the day. Damn, things done changed!

Okay, I don vent finish. Man, I've been having an amazing holiday o. I hadn't been back to the states since I moved to England, and I've fallen in love with this place all over again. In fact I wonder how I survived in London for a year. Enjoyment dey Yankee, kai!

I've spent a couple of weeks in my old city just reliving my college days. These Yankee babes no fit change. Lord have mercy. I don't know if it's the food or the weather, but God definitely spent extra time on these girls men. I've been getting my Denzel on HARD over here o, in fact I wish I could give you the full gist but this is a PG blog.

Before you start talking long story, Fineboy is single at the moment o. So allow me. AND NO QUESTIONS PLEASE! Gbe boruns. But on the real, I understand why people stick with one partner for years and years. The number of weres that you meet when you're dating eh? Kai. I met some chick on my first friday out here, let's call her Giselle. Correct looking babe o, she looked kinda like a black Giselle Bundchen. No lie. We had a couple of phone conversations and hooked up one sunday night to get dinner. All through the date, the babe just kept on talking about her baby Roscoe. Roscoe this. Roscoe that. Roscoe's so cute. He's so smart, he's so discerning, I love him. Blah blah blah.

Ask me who Roscoe be o? Her dog. I said na wa. I just kept nodding my head like I was really interested in the damn mutt. She now told me that she broke up with her last boyfriend because the guy didn't respect Roscoe. Chei. I wasn't about to act like I didn't send the dog o. Na so I begin ask questions.

"How old is Rossy?"

"What's his favorite game?"

"Does he do tricks?"

The babe was getting excited o. She was really describing the dog and all the "funny little things he does." Me I was bored outta my mind but I no wan eff up the chances of booty now, ah ah! So I played along o.

She said, "We should hang out at my crib tomorrow. So Roscoe and Princess can get used to having a man around the house. I think you're gonna be their new daddy."


Na your own papa go be dog daddy.

I didn't say that o. I just smiled and said, "Oh of course."

Kai, things we do for yansh.

I drove up to her apartment the following night. The whole time I was thinking she'd have the dogs leashed on her patio or balcony or something. Men, not so o. These two little devil animals were running up and down her apartment. When she opened the door, I was stunned. They were tiny! I don't know if I missed the part when she said they were chihuahas, but these morrafuckas were ugly as hell.

Na so I siddon on top couch o. See dog hair everywhere. Na wa o. I thought to myself "E be like say na this one and dog go dey sleep on top bed." Damn. The female one just appeared from nowhere and landed on my lap, wagging its tail like crazy. See disrespect. My first instinct was to slap this rat-lookalike off my lap, but the chick sat down next to me, smiling.

"Aww, how sweet. She likes you."

I was cringing men. E be like say the dog dey smell sef. The dog now started coming closer to me, licking and all sorts. Ah ah! This dog no fear sha.

"She wants a kiss."

From who? E no go better for dog and owner men.

Ah ah! I was just imagining this happening in Nige. Them never born any dog to come and be standing on it's oga's lap. The slap wey e go chop ehn? I kept trying to avoid the thing's tongue, I swear it was just licking my hand and everything. I wan throw up men. When Giselle got up to go get something from her bedroom, if you see the way I threw the dog off me ehn? Americans don crase.

We ended up ordering pizza, and when it came, na so the dogs begin dey dance o. Wagging their tails and everything. I was thinking in my head, "Why are these ones celebrating? You're not getting shishi out of this grub men." Giselle put the pizza on the center table and opened the box and omo, both dogs just jumped on the couch and started staring at the box. Ah ah. Me I quickly pulled out a big slice and bit into it, because I wan make sure say I chop at least one before one of these ugly bingos begin put tongue on top my pizza.

Giselle- No baby, you can't have the crust. Okay here's a piece of beef.

She took off a chunk of ground beef and put it in Princess' mouth. The dog took it and licked her finger. This morrafucking girl took that same hand and rubbed it on the couch! Yeeeee! I couldn't believe it. Roscoe started standing upright on its hind legs begging for grub too. She took off another piece and put it into his mouth, then she licked her finger.

Jesus Christ! God forbid say I go kiss this one. Emi ko. Not me.

The babe left the room to answer her phone one time and I saw that Roscoe dog going towards the box.

Me- Kai! Kurombe!

Roscoe- Growl

Me (whispering)- My friend gerraway from there!!!

Roscoe- Grrrr.....

Me (whispering)- You're growling at me. You think you can fight me?

I kicked the morrafucka away from the box. It yelped and came back. I gave it another nice Jackie Chan kick and it rolled to the side of the sofa. Bastard dog.

My people, please don't think I'm cruel to animals o. In fact I love dogs, but these ones no get respect men. When Giselle came back, the dog started barking loudly. I didn't even answer the were, I just kept on chopping my pizza.

Giselle- Aww, what's wrong Ros? You know you can't eat the crust because of the gluten. Okay here's a piece of beef baby.

I looked at her. In my mind, I was just thinking, "Plus you o, plus your dogs o, all of you don crase." Who talks to dogs like they're human beings? Come dey explain diet for them again.

Me- Why can't they eat the crust?

Giselle- Because gluten's bad for dogs' digestive systems. They can't eat bread.

Me- All dogs?

Giselle- Yeah. Dogs don't eat bread.

Mumu. My dogs in Nige dey chop bread, egg, yam, stew, anything. In fact I remember one dog that Akinzo had like that, Muritala. This dog used to eat cake with icing. I swear.

Men, when we finished the pizza, I noticed that the chick didn't even wash her hands. She now wanted to be hugging me and kissing on me. See the way I exited the place ehn? Nonsense.

The whole dog experience took my mind back to Nigeria. Like we love our pets and stuff in Nige, but dogs no dey sit on top couch inside house o. In fact, remember how houseboys and drivers in Nige always feel like you're giving your dogs too much luxury? I don't know what it is about drivers in particular, but men, all our dogs have always hated one driver or the other.

I remember one time as a little kid, I was sitting outside talking to one of our drivers, Baba Alao, and eating a piece of grilled chiken at the same time. One of our dogs, Boxer ran up and grabbed the piece of chicken and ran off. He did it so fast that it startled me and I just burst out laughing. I looked at Baba Alao. His mouth was wide open for like 10 seconds.

Baba Alao- Aja yen gba sha? (That dog grabbed it?)

Me- Hehe...

Baba Alao- O n rerin? (You're laughing?)

The man looked like he was about to burst into tears. His tribal marks and round head made his open mouth look even more animated.

Me- It was funny how he took it o.

Baba Alao- Ko ma ni da fun aja yen o. Odindi sikin lo gba lowo yon ba yi. (God punish that dog o. The thing grabbed a whole piece of chicken!)

Me- Haha...

Baba Alao- Olorun lo yo pe owo mi ko lo ti gba. Mi ba ku si l'orun! Olosi aja. (He's lucky he didn't grab it from me! I would have died on his neck! Morrafucking dog!)

I couldn't even continue gisting with Baba Alao. The guy was obviously pained. I don't know what happened after that, but everytime Boxer knew Baba Alao was in the area, he would bark his head off. Baba Alao sef didn't ever look at the dog in the face after that. Everytime he came in to work and Boxer started barking, Mr. Morris our steward would say, "Alao, Boxer dey greet you." Baba Alao wouldn't even look at the dog when he said,

"Ko ni da fuon, iwo aja buruku yi."

Damn he took that ish personal.

I'll holla in a bit!

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

Fineboy's not dead

It's been a minute my people. I turned in my paper two weeks ago, and have pretty much been busy since, preparing for my trips and now jetsetting. What's good though blogville? Abeg make una no vex, I've been bad, very bad, in fact downright irresponsible. But it's been a really busy time and it's been hard to fit blogging in to be honest.

To all those people who sent e-mails asking where I was, thanks o, I'm still alive. And to all of una wey dey abuse my papa and mama because of blog, na wa for u o. It's all love though. Meanwhile where's everyone? Most of my favourite bloggers are gone, and I'm starting to wonder if the whole hype has died and people have finally gotten bored of the whole blogging thing. Make una come back o, abeg.

Let me just get situated....I dey come...the devil ees a liar..

Sunday, August 05, 2007

Dissertation Due Soon

Trying to wrap up this damn paper. I haven't forgotten u.

Wednesday, July 11, 2007

Pastor Fineboy

My people!!! Wait now, before you vex. It’s blogger o! Blogger has refused to let me update for ages! Walahi, I’ve written like three different posts in the last couple of weeks but blogger wouldn’t let me publish. And because I write off the cuff without saving in microsoft word, I keep losing stuff. To be honest I wouldn’t even put up a post that I wrote a few days ago because I like to blog on what’s happening at the moment I’m writing.

So please don’t be upset eh? The devil is a liar. They want us to fight. We no go gree them. “It’s work of enemy,” as our former houseboy Bassey used to say.

Okaaaay, so what’s good? Damn it feels like it’s been ages!!!! My birthday was amazing, the cottage turned out to be more like a mansion. It was huuuuge. I had an update about it, but I don’t even feel like talking about that weekend now, ‘cos it seems like so long ago. How una dey now?

Men a couple of days ago I was sitting here dumbfounded o. If I tell you say I no dey fear that day na lie. Hmm, let me give you the gist. See, my uncle V and aunt M are in town visiting , and I tell you, they’re the most stressful people you’ll ever meet. Nice though, but very stressful. They always want one thing or the other. They also go to one church like this in Nige…it’s sorta controversial I think, so they’re always telling all kinds of stories about how people do jazz, blah blah blah.

Chai, I’ve started with my long story again. To cut it short sha, they received a phone call on friday morning from their son in Nige, who’s a little older than I am. All I could hear was my aunty saying;

“Eh? Kilode?” (What’s the matter?)

“Haaaaaaa! O ya were ke?” (She’s gone mad ke?)

“What is she saying?”


“Jesu ke? Mo gbe.” (I’m in trouble)

“Ha! Were ni yen looto o!” (That's a sign of madness for real o!)

“I plead the blood of Jesus! I cover her with the blood of Jesus! No weapon…..”

She was trembling, while my uncle and mum looked on. “Put her on the phone, I’ll give it to the junior pastor now.”

The thing didn’t even click. Who be junior pastor?

Next thing I know, she rushes up to me and hands me the receiver. “Oya Fineboy, talk to her, it’s Basira, the housegirl.”

Shuo! Me ke? Why?

“Err…what happened?”

She shouted, “Pray for her now! She’s suffering from spiritual attack. Shebi you were an assistant pastor in America. Hurry up!”

See me see trouble o. I took the receiver.

Me- Hello

Basirat- Mamaaaaaaaay!


My aunt (to me)- Pray for her now! Plead the blood of Jesus.

Me- Basirat, what’s wrong?

Basirat- Wiiiiiiiiiiiii! Wiiiiiiiiiiiiiii! Wiiiiiiiiiiii!

Chineke. This girl don kolo for real o.

My uncle- Pray for her now!!!!!

Me- Errrrrm…..

Basirat- “Yeeeeeee! Jesu n no mi! Jesu no mi o! Yeeeeeeee!” (Jesus is flogging me! He’s beating me o!)

Me (looking back)- Ha. Uncle, this one is serious o.

Uncle- Pray now!

Basirat- Yeeeee! Jesu no boto si mi lara o! (Jesus is flogging the heck outta me o!)

Me- Why’s he beating you?

Na una sabi. Wetin I for ask? I was so shocked by it all men, it was like I was in a movie or something. Which kin’ wahala be this? All because I gave them one fabu that me I used to be an assistant pastor with my pastor uncle in America. Chineke! It’s not good to lie, especially about church o.

Basirat- Wiiiiiiiiiii! Yeeeee! O wo white! O noooo mii! (He’s dressed in white! He’s flogging me!)

I looked at my aunt, who was standing there with a horrified look on her face. She now stood at a distance, as if she was scared that the mad housegirl would jump outta the phone. I come begin wonder; “Wait, mad person dey answer phone?”

“Aunty, are you sure you don’t need a psychiatrist for this girl?”

“It’s the power of prayer! Pray for her jo!” I noticed she stayed a good distance away.

Me- Er, In Jesus’ name…..

Basirat- Wiiiiiiiii! Maaaamaaaaay! Wooooooooo!”


Me- Erm, in Jesus…

Basirat- Wooooooooo! Ahhhhhhhh!

Ha! Omo, this thing that I’m saying like joke like this, it wasn’t funny at the time o. Anytime I mentioned Jesus, she would scream her head off. Which kin’ trouble I go find myself like this? You people must think I make this stuff up; it’s so ridiculous.

Me- You are healed in Jesus’ name.

Basirat- Yeeeee! Iwo! Iwo! (You!)

Omo, I no do again men. If you hear the shrillness of her voice eh? I was bloody shaking. Imagine, from London o. I don’t know why but there’s something extra scary about Naija madness.

I couldn’t hack it anymore so I gave my aunty the phone, who passed it to my uncle. He now started praying over the phone and then finally spoke to my cousin, whom he told to take her to the hospital.

Apparently, they found out later that she had acute malaria and had just been delirious. Na wa o. I never see where malaria patient dey go mad like that before o. Whew! Thank God it’s over sha, because that scared the ish outta me. It was even more scary ‘cos that my aunty and uncle are always talking about how they exorcise demons and things in their church. I come begin fear say this winch fit come jam me for night. This one wey Jesus dey flog am, she must be a really evil person.

Okay, sorry o my people. Just had to vent. I know you’re wondering how I got the title of junior pastor. Okay let me give you the gist briefly.

See, my uncle (my mum’s younger brother) lives in the states and has been there for like 30 years. He became a pastor like 20 years ago. When I say pastor, I don’t mean like Naija type pastor. I mean like those yankee style “Can I get an amen?” type pastors.

The guy come look like American again. As in he’s a fine boy pastor o, with his bald head. The guy even gives them yankee-style pastor suits. Green, maroon, off-white…gbo gbo e. The guy get all kin’ funny colour suits. And his congregation is mostly African-American o.

Anyhow, when I first moved to Yankee, I stayed with him and my aunt Desiree. See I was worried, ‘cos I thought it’d be hard living with a pastor, but he was cool as hell men. The first Sunday I was there, I had given them jeans, loafers and a blazer to church. My uncle of course, had given them on baggy lime green suit like that.

“FB!!! You can’t wear that o! You don’t know you’re an assistant pastor now!”

That’s how it started. When I started running wild with all those freshman babes on campus, my mum would call and my uncle would tell her, “Don’t worry about Fineboy, he’s an assistant pastor here o. He’s being a good boy.” I guess it was just his way of covering for me. I love that dude.

My mum was proud o. She started telling all her friends that I was a proper church boy now. One time she called and my uncle V and aunt M were with her. Uncle V asked me “So I heard you’re an assistant pastor. That’s good o. We can never have enough prayer. God is good.”

Ye! I couldn’t deny it now. Me sef I replied that God was wonderful and in fact, I used to preach some Sundays. Na so the thing start o. They’ve been calling me a junior pastor since, and as per they’re proper born again Christians, I haven’t had the nerve to tell them I was only joking that day.

Na wetin cause my wahala today be that o. Pastor ko pastor ni. Don’t get it twisted though, I used to do stuff in that church for real o. As in, I used to give them full suit and tie every Sunday, and I was a ‘senior usher.’

But I was useless meeeeen. I dey always get one scoin-scoin or the other. I remember once when my uncle called me to the front to start behind people he was praying for. I took off my jacket and went and stood in front of the whole congregation. Meeen, that’s how one babe walked to the front for prayer.

Hot Damn!

When I say babe, I mean BABE. She was smoking hot, thick in all the right places….you know those African American girls that have been eating chicken and biscuits their whole lives. Lord have mercy. I know I was in church, and na good good holy thoughts I suppose dey think, but I couldn’t help it men.

Kai. She had on a tight pencil skirt with one white shirt and some heels. The walk sef was mad… of those girls that are just hot without even trying or realising it.

Mm mm mm.

Yeepa, I felt something start to shift in my trozziz. Aaaaaah! In front of the whole church. Which kin’ wahala be this, and I don off my jacket!

Omo, that’s how my John Thomas started rising o. Yeeeee!

My uncle moved to start praying for her and signalled for me to position myself behind her so that I could break her fall. (You know Yankee people gots to fall when Pastor prays for them now.)

Omo! The babe took a step back so that the booty was right in front of me. Chei, I comot my eye quick quick. But it was too late men. John Thomas just dey rise, and rise, and rise. And because I had no jacket there was no way to hide it. I come begin think about different things. I tried to imagine Iya Bose, one fried yam seller in lagos standing in front of me.

No luck. John Thomas no gree o.

Ha, see me see wahala. Sister Harriet, one yeye amebo usher like that, was looking at me from across the front with one disgusted look on her face. I used style to twist my waist so she couldn’t see the full extent of the damage. This one na catastrophe o.

Na so I begin say the Lord’s prayer in Yoruba. My brother once said that was the best way to curb this kind of problem. I tried to remember the words.

Baba wa ti m be l’orun. .

Ki ijoba re de.

Err…I no remember the next line. That’s how pastor said something in the prayer that made her jump up and down waving her hands in the air vigorously. Yeepa.

*wiggle wiggle*

I wan die. My bolongo now chaaaaaaarged at fuuuuuulll attention.

I felt like a sinner man. Why na for inside church wey Tarzan go come dey elongate like this?

Men when the babe finally fell backwards into me, I knew she felt it. I tried to pull back well well, but I couldn’t avoid it men. She stayed on the floor for like 15 minutes. Omo, I thought she had fainted from the force of John Bull’s power sef.

Men after that day, I dey wear jacket before I catch anybody o. I was utterly useless at the job, to be honest, because I have another bad habit. I can’t suppress my laughter when I find something funny, no matter how serious the environment I’m in is. One time I was standing at the front holding the offering bowl while one Naija woman gave her thanksgiving testimony.

“Praaaaaaaiiiiiise the Lord. God have been very good to me. For ten years, they say my husband will not see visa. The enemies is angry with us for many years because we are doing the work of God.”

Hehn?? Shellomastic! I held the air in my mouth so I wouldn’t explode. The church was deathly silent, and I tried my hardest not to laugh. But the woman no gree o. She just dey drop bomb upon bomb.

“But people of God, I just want to say thanks to our fada in heaven and this our pastor. This pastor is a good person. Even when they diagonise my husband with cancer, he stand by me, praying for me…

DIAGONISE??? Is that a word? Omo I was fighting hard to suppress the laughter. I was dying to explode, I come begin look up and down…and then

“But praise God because I have defeat all the enemy that have attempting to wicked my family!”

Yeeparipa! Men I just burst out laughing and ran to the back of the Church. I couldn’t help it men. That was my last day as an “assistant pastor” o. My uncle didn’t find it funny at all. I had to explain to him that it wasn’t my fault, “it’s work of enemy.”

Yo I’ll holla soon y’all. God forgive me for this post.

Thursday, June 21, 2007

Go Fineboy, it's your birthday!

Blogsville! What’s good? Damn, those exams were tougher than a morrafucker! Thanks for the prayers though, I really appreciate it. Although I know say some of una no pray for me. You just dey post me abi? Hmm, God forgive you o. Anyways, it’s all good. I’m in a reflective mood today, ‘cos it’s my birthday, and damn, awon boys are getting old. When you start thinking about lying about your age, trust me you’re old.

I woke up kinda early this morning, ‘cos as usual Chief Fineboy called to wish his fourth son a happy birthday. Meeeen, the guy used some brand new words today and got me all emotional but it’s all good. I’ve received quite a few calls already today, a lot of them from Nige. My oldest bro Nigerian Shakespeare was the first caller. Men, the dude is one of my favourite people but the guy dey speak oyinbo eh? Lord have mercy. Chief Fineboy jr.

I also got calls from some of my aunts as well. One of my favourite aunts, Aunty R called from Abuja, and her brother my Uncle S was there as well.

Na so she give the guy phone o. You see that uncle S guy is a bit funny. I’m not sure if the guy’s complete up there if you know what I mean, because sometimes the guy talks some funny shite men. Like this morning, he was giving me the usual prayers o. Like “God bless you, may you have many more" blah blah, and then…….."motor will not jam you.”


I come begin wonder. I had already said “amen,” before I thought about it. Abi this guy dey swear for me? Why would you think to say that to someone? Na wa o. Now I’m all paranoid, because this one that guys are always slapping around central London, anything can shele.

After I put the phone down, I just started thinking about it men. Shey the guy dey see vision ni? We’re going to the Lake District this weekend in a 15-seater, so I gots to be careful when driving o, especially ‘cos it’s at night. And trust me when you’ve been in accident before, you get maaad paranoid. I’ll never forget when one madman bashed me in Yankee. I think I’m still traumatised from the experience sef. Make I give una the gist briefly.

It was the day after Valentine’s day, and the night before I’d had a nice Italian dinner at my omoge’s crib. You know, candlelight, then bubble bath, massage oils, everything! Spent the night (wink wink), woke up feeling nice and refreshed, and took off for work. Men, na so I stop for traffic light o. Just as the light turned green, I just felt something plow into my car from behind. Omo, this one was not CRASH. It was GBAAAAAOOOOW!!! My coin compartment flew open and sprayed pennies and dimes across my car. For a second I was in shock. Like omo am I injured?

I tried to move my main parts, and I see say everything dey correct order. Thank God for seat belt. My next thought was my car. Damn. Just the sound of the metal crashing broke my heart ‘cos I knew my baby must be looking a hot mess right now. I got out.

CHINEKE! The whole rear end don scatter ni sha. The dude’s car was some minivan type car and it hadn’t even incurred any damage. I looked at the were. The guy was sitting there with one sheepish look on his face. He looked like one of those IT nerds with the big glasses and spiderman tie. I was waiting for an explanation.

“Pretty bad huh? That’s a nice car too.”

I looked at the guy and fantasised about punching that his long nose.

I was just thinking, “You’re lucky this isn’t Naija. I for don woze you slap by now.”

Na so I just remember. Men, when you get in an accident, you shouldn’t walk around like you’re fine. Omo, I just went back into my car and sat down. The twit came to my window.

“Are you okay?”


I told him I was gonna move the car off the road and park in a shopping mall parking lot across the road. I moved the car there and the dude followed me. When we got there, men I just palmed like I was hella hurt o. Because if you start walking around now, insurance fit say nothing for boys. The bobo was on his phone the whole time, so I figured he was talking to the police or insurance or what not. He came to my window.

“Err, so what do we do now?”

“You called the cops right?”

“Erm, no that was my wife.”

Fool! So the whole time this nincompoop was on the phone, na im wife e dey follow talk??? Mugu!

Meeeen, I was pissed. I called the cops and told the joker to call his insurance company sharpish. I just chilled in the car like say my back don break. Omo, I begin calculate. This one na upgrade o. Hmm, with the dough I get from the insurance company, I’m copping a 6.45 beemer. I started imagining cruising into DC in my brand new 6.45 coupe. Ha, awon boys go just bounce inside club. Throw the keys to valet. “Don’t scratch my joint, baby.” Represent….

“Sir are you okay?”

There was a policeman at my window. Me wey I don imagine go, if you saw the way I switched my voice eh.

“Ah, officer.”

“Are you alright? Can you step outside of your vehicle?”

Step kini?

“Aaaaaah, officer no. I can’t.” I winced. “Aaaagh.”

“Do you need an ambulance?”

“I think so. I don’t know…..aaaagh.”

The nerd who bashed me was looking. I gave the guy eye. If dey born you well, say I came out of the car earlier.

That’s how the cop called ambulance o. In like 15 minutes, it arrived and two paramedics jumped out and brought out a stretcher. Omo! This thing don dey serious o. Yeepa.

“Sir can you move?”

“Err….yeah.” I moved my hand.

“Okay. Do not attempt to get up.”

They opened the door and put me on the stretcher. Ha! See my life o. Which kin’ katakata I don enter? They now hurriedly thrust me into the ambulance. Yeepers. Next thing I know, the guy pulls out a white sheet and starts to cover me up.


“Nooooo!” I no be oku now.

The guy goes, “You have to have it over you sir.”

“No mate.”

I felt like telling him, “In my country na dead man dem dey cover with white sheet o, bros.”

“You will have to have it on sir. Or we won’t be transporting you to the hospital.”

Chei. “Alright then.” I go manage am. No be money?

When they covered me ehn, I felt sick. Sirens blaring and everything, white sheet over me like a corpse. Because of small change. See my life.

Long story short, the doctor referred me to a chiropractor who found out I had “subluxations” in my spine blah blah blah. Meanwhile that back don dey pain me since o. I injured it playing basketball, but had thought it was just a muscle that I had pulled or something. I remember when I went to Naija one December and went to the doctor’s about it.

The y sent me to the x-ray guy, one old paps with huge glasses.

“Off your clothes.”


“Off your trozziz.”

Na wa o. A whole x-ray technician. I looked at the baba. He passed me one hospital gown. It was rather awkward but I took my clothes off and lay on the table thingy, flat on my stomach. I couldn’t help feeling vulnerable because this old paps had a clear view of my butt. Is all this one necessary? He put the x-ray machine over me and adjusted me like a million times, each time saying,


“This is serious.”

“Mm mm mm.”


Then making that clicking noise with his tongue.

“This is terrible o.”

I finally asked him, “What’s the problem?”

“You’re asking me. Your back is in a shambles!”

This baba sef.

“This is a slipped disc now. Are you a labourer?”

I wanted to laugh. Did I look like a bricklayer to this man?


“Your back is finished. Your spinal system has scattered. Just go and see the doctor.”

Na your back go run down, you this wicked old man.

He gave me the film and I took it to the doctor, who said it was nothing, just muscle tension. Anyhow he gave me some painkillers and “robb.”
Imagine o.

When the chiropractor in America fixed my back months later I couldn’t help but think “We can be so backwards in that country.”

Needless to say, I made mad money from that accident but I won’t bore you with the details. Awon boys did some crazy shopping, copped a brand new ride and ‘all at. So if somebody bashes you, remember to do what I did. But if na okada for Naija, shine your eye o. If you talk about insurance, dem go brush you! I love y’all men, I’ll be blogging properly this weekend.

Blogsville, your boy is back.