Sunday, April 22, 2007

An officer and a gentleman.

Long time no holla people...I know it’s been a minute. Too much work to do at the moment. I've been writing essay upon essay, and I'm so tired of thinking, I swear. This master's thing is no joke o. People lied to me man.

Meanwhile, I'm mad because I was at the Nigerian job fair thingy last week friday, and on saturday afternoon one consultancy called and said they wanted me to be at Russell square within the hour for an interview.

At that point, I was in the library writing essays, and I couldn't leave. I just thought, "long thing!" and told them to e-mail me to reschedule. Meanwhile, my boy Roroski went for that 2nd interview, and they offered the guy a job two days later! Damn! Who beg me say make I dey pose? Chai! Now, I've resorted to blowing up the mobile number that they called me with, and I think the woman even locked me off last time I called. Imagine.

Anyway it's all gravy. I got called for a job interview with this other Nige bank on tuesday after taking a competency test for them the day before. They asked me to come in at 9am and I hadn’t gotten home until 12.30am the night before so I was rather upset as it meant very little sleep. Anyways, I got up nice and early, and omo I kak'd my safe dark gray suit, a white shirt and a purple and lilac tie. I denge in front of the mirror. Ha! Mo bad gan!

I got to the venue at like 8.45, thinking "worst case scenario, I'd be out by 10." Not so o. I sat in the waiting room with some JJC-looking guys for like 2 hours before I even got called in!

While we were waiting, the ju-man next to me sha wanted to yarn by force. Now, I'm not anti-social or anything, but when you don't know someone and they just keep talking to you like you’re friends, it's annoying man. My whole body language should have shown this guy that I wasn't interested in conversation, but the guy no wan gree o.

"I'm Vincent."

"How's it going man?"

"Fine thanks. You are?"

"Sorry. Fineboy"

"Okay. Are you very worried about this interview?"

“Not really.”

“Don’t be navos. You must not show navosness because they can see it in your face o. Be very relaxed.”

“Oh okay.”

“I’ve been in this country since 2005, but I want to see what can happen in Nigeria. If the money is very good, I may go.”

“Oh aight.”

Oooooh o! This guy wouldn't let me read my new Soyinka book o.

I was so happy when I finally got called in for the interview. Free from Mr. Vincent, thank God.

I walked in and drew a deep breath. There were three men at the desk. I’m guessing executive directors or something. One of them was quite young, like in his thirties, so I figured he must have been the owner's famous managing director son. I took a seat.

"So tell me about yourself."

I give them a brief monologue, and before I'm even done, the oldest guy asks me,"Why you, why do you want to work here, why?"

I give him one well-rehearsed answer about how great I am, how wonderful their company is, and somewhere along the line I must have used the word "dynamic."

The guy hissed, "We will soon see how dynamic you are!" and looked at my cv.

They now started asking me a bunch of questions including who my father was! NO LIE!

Anyway, in the end, the interview took like 10, 15 minutes, when everybody else’s took like 40. I don’t know what that means men, but we’ll see now.

To be honest, it wasn’t as stressful as I had expected. Before I went in for mine, this girl came out of the room in tears. She was mumbling something about how rude and mean they were and apparently she just walked out before the interview was even over. I don already make up my mind say if those guys talk nonsense to me for there, I’d abuse somebody’s father. I kuku already have a job offer in London.

The truth though is that it was actually mild compared to the 2nd round interview I had with a big bank in London last year.

Omo, that one was quite mad. There were two top boys from the company and if you see the way they scrutinized my cv eh? At one point, they were asking me questions from it, and I swear I wanted to peek and see what I had written on the cv, because omo, I no remember everything on that thing men.

“What is your greatest quality?”

“You are aware that our firm hires only the brightest brains in the business, aren’t you? Why should we pick YOU?”

Men, it was a sweatbox in there. I was pissing my pants. I got asked all sorts of questions, including ratios and percentages and all sorts. Thankfully, I’m pretty good with general knowledge stuff, so I kinda coasted through. Then the bombshell.

“Mr.Fineboy, can you tell me how many airplanes are presently flying in British airspace at this moment?”

Chei! What the hell kinda question is that?? I was about to start sweating, because I know say lailai I no know that one o. I thought for a second…..

“More than one, that’s for sure!”

The man looked at me for a second and then just burst out laughing. Whew! They must have liked the answer because I hold an offer from them now, but me I wan go naija men.

Without a doubt, that was the hardest interview I’d ever had. The easiest one was the one I had for my first job ever in Yankee. I was a freshman at University and Akinzo had called me to say he knew a place where we could make some part-time dough. Awon boys were broke students, so I told the guy, “I’m down o, as long as it isn’t working in a shop or something.”

The guy assured me that it wasn’t and was some administrative gig, and the next day we drove up to this building. As we got out of the car, Akinzo said,

“FB, I lied yesterday. This thing is for a security job o….”

The madman burst out laughing, while I stood there stunned.


I wanted to turn around, but it was too late. Akinzo said it wasn’t like Nige security anyway, all we’d have to do was sit at some desk in some faraway building and nobody’d see us. And we’d also be getting paid like $12.00 an hour.

Omo, I think am! At the time, $12.00 and hour was good kishi o. I could be using that one for extra pocket money, since Chief Fineboy dey always do anyhow when it was time to settle boys. So we went in, and filled out one easy-ass test that seemed more like a questionnaire. They called each of us for interviews immediately.

The bobo was just happy to have college students interviewing for jobs with them. Under like 5 minutes, the guy invited us to come for an orientation session two days later.

At the session, come hear toooory! There were like 1 million rules. This is what you do when you see something suspicious. This is what you do when this….This is what you do when that….

Never arrest a suspect. Emi? Who was planning on arresting anybody?

Wear your uniform with pride. God punish you.

Always show deference and respect to your superior officers. E no go better for superior officer.

This is not a job, it’s a career. Na your papa go get this kin’ career.

Anyhow, that’s how I started work o. They put me in this pharmaceutical building after hours. There were like three other guys on the shift. Let me not lie, when I first got that uniform, I like am small o. Dark grey pants, light grey shirt, grey tie (clip-on), grey bomber jacket, with a gold badge that had my Officer no. on it.

I denge in front mirror. Hmm. Officer Fineboy.The uniform was just like a policeman’s uniform. This is the sort of thing that I’d have killed for as a kid. I now started practising.

“Hays! Stop there!”

“Ma’am calm down…I’m just trying to do my job..”

“Radio radio…10-4 10-4, whats your location?”

Omo I don mad finish. I went to the building. They gave me instructions and I sat down in front of one monitor that had nine small surveillance screens on them. The supervisor told me there was a camera watching me, and I wasn’t allowed to doze even for one second. Na wa o. That’s when it began dawning on me. See my life. I sat staring at that boring screen for hours, and it was like watching paint dry men.

After like an hour, the guy told me on radio that it was my turn to do the rounds. He came up and gave me one wand and a map, telling me all the spots that I had to hit around the premises before I came back. No problem now.

That’s how I went outside. OMO! If you see the premises, it was like a huge factory or something with woods at the back, and I had to go into all these buildings and boiler rooms and stores. Fear catch me die! I was just thinking all sorts of things. Ha! At like 12 am o, and all I had in my hand was a torch.

I had just begun my round, walking slowly across the dark yard when one of the other guys came on the radio “Oficer Fineboy, don’t worry too much about the snakes on the premises. They’re harmless. You might also see a raccoon or a deer, but nothing dangerous.”

Oloshi. That even scared me more. Heeee! God who begged me o? I was just thinking, this America, any kin’ animal fit come chop person for here o. Or even serial killer. I was just praying throughout.

I finally got back to the desk after like an hour, by which time I had made up my mind that there was no way I was coming back on day 2. For what now? Because of $12.00 an hour? God forbid bad thing. Before the end of my eight-hour shift, I had to do the rounds again twice.

The next time I went on the rounds, it was 3am. I remembered one houseboy that we once had in Nige, Dennis telling me that 3 am was the hour when witches used to have their meetings. Jesus Christ! I know I was a grown-ass man, but men when I stepped out into that pitch-darkness with nothing but that yeye flashlight, omo fear catch me no be small.

I just started walking slowly around the premises, flashing their pangolo torch. I wasn’t even inspecting their bloody grounds, I was on the lookout for any possible ogbanje or witch that might jump out of the woods. Not like there was anywhere to run. Fear catch me no be small men. I just kept asking myself over and over again who sent me.

As I made my way into one dingy boiler room, one of those idiots shouted over the radio. “Officer Fineboy, everything okay?”
I almost jumped out of my skin! The crackle scared the shit outta me men, I think say na one oyinbo ghost don appear.

The two other officers now started talking to each other (they were in different parts of the building) about ghosts and the supernatural, and whether or not it really existed. Omo! I wan slap person men! Why the hell would someone be talking about that kinda thing at 3am when I’m walking around some huge yard by myself? Bastards!

By the time I got back to the desk, my mind was made up! I wasn’t coming back men.

When I got home in the morning, I called the office and told them I wouldn’t be working anymore. The oga was very sympathetic o. He said he absolutely understood but wouldn’t want to lose one of his college kids.

The guy was just giving me one long story to disncourage me from leaving, and then finally offered to transfer me to another site. He promised that I wouldn’t have to do any strange midnight rounds, and there’d be no cameras on the client site watching my every move.

Na so I gree o. That’s how the guy moved me to some place called Falls Village and gave me directions. Omo, that afternoon, as I drove towards the place, I remembered that it was one shopping centre like that! Yeeeee! It wasn’t like a mall, it was more like a complex of stores. Jesus Christ! On a Saturday afternoon! Gaddem! Men, there was no telling who I could jam there.

When I resumed, the dude who I was taking over from told me that I could just drive around in my car, and come out at intervals. He told me that the biggest problems in that area were people loitering at the back of some restaurant, and teenagers spray painting graffiti on the walls.

Ope o! At least I’d be able to harass some kids that would be afraid of an officer on patrol.

I laid low for the first two hours, just driving around incognito until the supervisor called me on the company cellphone to say that one bookstore had complained about some kids smoking weed behind their building.

Correct! Time for action! I drove to the back of the bookstore and spotted the kids.

I sped my car up to them and braked sharply. I started to jump out of the car, and omo that’s when I noticed say these ones no be small teenagers o. I had already started shouting then and it was too late to retract..

“Excuse me gentlemen!”

One big tall ghetto-looking gangster type type in oversized jeans and one long-ass t-shirt turned around.

“What up???” The guy stuck his chest out as if he was ready for action.

The other guys come bone up. Jesus Christ! These ones fit scatter person head o. Na my papa company?

“No problem at all gentlemen. Just making sure everything’s alright. Have a nice day guys.”

“Right back at chu, homie.”

Omo, if you see the way I sped off eh? I called the supervisor.

“I’ve taken care of the situation, S/O.”

Olori buruku. You dey find who una go take experiment abi? Then when gangsta boys break my head, you’ll say I was a model officer abi? Not Fineboy.

When I got home that day, I called my popsi. I knew that if I told him I’d been working security, he would flip. His own son, working security? He would increase my pocket money sharp sharp.

“Dad, I have something to tell you. You wouldn’t believe it.”

“What’s that son?”

“I’ve been working as a security guard.”

He burst out laughing.

“Haha…son, do you mean you’re a mai-guard?”

Is this man trying to be funny?

“Pretty much.”

“That’s great. Such experiences only help to mould you in your journey toward manhood. I commend your bravery son. Have you succeeded in apprehending any criminals running afoul of the law?”


Men I went back to that office and returned their dirty uniforms after only a week. Apprehend ko, Apprehend ni.

I'll holla at y''s a very busy time guys, but I’ll try to update again soon, I promise!

Thursday, April 19, 2007

For The 32.....

Over the New Ridge valley they float
32 Hokies now in Paradise’s bliss
Questions unanswered, futures cut short
Shots ringing, no back talk
32 fighting gobblers
Taken away

Another mother’s tears, painful anguish
Suit ready for graduation now burial kit
Another brother’s pain, another dream deferred
A family’s hopeful plans put aside
On new angels’wings, forever blown away

A bumbling lunatic has called their time,
In his mind a protagonist in his twisted tale
Why he took them we will never know
Jealous rage or meticulously planned
It makes no difference to a mourning Dad
God be the judge

For Emily who was first killed
Another mother’s daughter unfairly snatched away
For Livu, brave professor who resisted Nazis
And defended students in the face of certain death
For Ryan the RA who tried to make peace
And the other 30 who now reside in Heaven’s plains

Today we are all Hokies
Former fighting gobblers, in maroon sweaters
Today we are all from Blacksburg, home of the hills
Today we walk the Blue ridge mountains proudly again
And resolutely wear our colors, shouting “Ut Prosim”
Our Hokie motto still “That we may serve”

Today We are Virginia Tech


Wednesday, April 18, 2007

In a bit...

Soon come guys! Just finishing essays, abeg no vex! May the Virginia Tech victims rest in peace...

Monday, April 09, 2007

Grandma's grandson

My blogsville people! Long time no speak! No vex abeg, I’ve been enjoying the loooong Easter break a little too much. It’s been fun man. Hanging with Prettyboy, Roroski and the fam. My adventures with Prettyboy will be discussed soon. One word...legendary. Meanwhile, this break sweet o. As it is sef, I’m shacking Heineken with my grandmomsi.

Hehe….I know what you’re thinking….Fine Grandma is a bad-ass o. She arrived last week, and she has been really cracking me up. I love her ‘cos she’s a real streetwise Lagos madam. She’s actually my great-aunt, my maternal grandmother’s younger sister, but we’ve always called her grandma. I was literally her handbag when I was a kid...the woman is alright with me men.

“Fineboy o o strong o! You only drank three Heinekens and you’re blinking like an idiot. What would you do when you drink two Gulders?”

“I can’t handle Gulder o. I like Star..”

“Star? Stout nko?”

“Can’t drink it. Too bitter.”

“Weak boy! You don’t know it’s good for Finebabe?”


“If you drink it, you’ll be very solid for Finebabe o. Strong and solid! She will never leave you.”

“Oh!” I got the message and burst out laughing.

Imagine! This seventy-one year old mama. Yesterday, we were reminiscing about Nigeria and I almost died of laughter men, especially when she reminded me about our 'armed robber' ordeal.

Make I yarn una. Ha! See your ears! You like toooory!

Anyhow, like 10 years ago, there was a bunch of us at my grandma’s house in ‘Lere. There was Fine grandma, my Uncle Remi, me, my lil’ cousin DJ, and my aunty Yinka and her husband, Uncle Tre. Aunty Yinka, Uncle Tre and DJ were visiting from London.

We were all in my grandmomsi’s bedroom gisting, apart from Uncle Remi, who was downstairs. We were clowning Uncle Tre, because the guy went to chop Isi-ewu the day before and it had upset his stomach. The guy is from the Bahamas, but always wants to be doing like a real naija man. That’s when we heard noise outside o. We ran to the window and saw the gateman being dragged my two armed tout-looking guys.

Omo, na so everybody begin shake. My aunty quickly took off her jewellery and stuffed them down DJ’s pants. The boy sef wan refuse, but obviously couldn’t say no to his momsi. Meanwhile Uncle Tre started rolling up his shirt.

“I’m about to knock somebody the fuck out!”

He went towards the door and my aunty screamed at him, “Come back here jo! You think this is your country? Ode!”

Fine Grandma begin shout. “Ooooooooole! Ooooole! Armed robbers o!”

Men, she was screaming at the top of her voice o! We were scared shitless. I looked up at the ceiling, then at the closet, then under the bed. Chei, nowhere to hide.

“OOOOOOLLLEEEE!! Ooooo…….” Two guys burst into the room.

“Mama you dey shout?”

“Ha! My son no o. I’m not shouting o.” She covered her mouth and sat on the bed.

“Everybody lie down! Lie down!”

Uncle Tre started staring at one of them. The armed robber goes, “My friend lie down!”

“Motherfuck!” Uncle Tre said.

Morrafuck ko, morrafuck ni. The guy was still speaking oyibo. This one na Lagos o.
Then two other guys burst in with guns. They ushered my uncle Remi into the room. Men, he looked pissed! The guy pushed Uncle Remi, and he reluctantly started to lie down.

Meanwhile, me I just peppy on the floor men. No complaints, nothing. I just chill.

Armed Robber 1: Lie down flat! Flat!

Uncle Remi: Who are you talking to? You’re very stupid.

Armed Robber 1: Hehn!! You wan die?

Fine Grandma: Please please my son. Please…

Armed Robber1: No mama! O fe ku ni? (Does he want to die?)

Uncle Remi: Iwo lo ma ku. (Na you go die!)

Armed Robber 1: Me? I must kill somebody today! Get up, oku ni e! (You're a corpse!)

Fine Grandma: My son, please don’t mind him. Ori omo mi o pe! (My son is mentally deranged.)

Uncle Remi: Who is sick in the head?

Fine Grandma: Remi shut up! Idiot.

Armed Robber 2: Shoot him dead jo! Pata pata dem go burn us! Who dey fear die? Kill am!

Fine Grandma: Ehn?? E jo o! Please o my son, they won’t set you on fire in Jesus’ name. God will bless you o, they won’t catch you in the name of God! Please.

Meanwhile they started taking jewellery and all the money they could find. But Uncle Remi no wan gree o.

Armed Robber 1: Make them catch us! We must kill person for here! You go die today, you this man.

Fine Grandma: Heee my son. I’m begging you in the name of God. Please don’t listen to this boy. This my son is a madman. I gave birth to him, I know him very well. Were ni. Since birth, babanla mumu ni. (He’s been daft since birth.)

Uncle Remi: Mummy, who’s mad? Who’s mad?

Fine Grandma: You see? A ni oponu ni! (I’m telling you he’s an imbecile!) Don’t listen to him please, my son. God bless you ehn? You will live long for your mother.

Uncle Tre: Man, this is some bullshit.

Uncle Tre looked across at Uncle Remi, like he thought they could take these guys together. He started to get up.

Armed Robber 3: Americana, you sef wan talk? My friend lie down!

Uncle Tre: Yo, back up off me dude….

WATAI! If you see the hot slap that they gave the guy ehn? The guy just lie down straight.

God knows how long we were there for. The armed robbers took all they could and one of them pointed at my uncle Remi.

“Oya, na now I go open fire.”

Fine Grandma: My son, why would you kill a fool? Please ehn. God will bless you… ati kekere ni, ara e o ya. (He’s been mentally ill since he was a child.)

Armed Robber2: Kill am! Pata pata, they will shoot us or set us on fire.

Fine Grandma: That will not be your portion in Jesus’ name!

Armed robber1: You this man, na mummy save you o. If not, you for die like fowl.

That’s how they locked us inside the room and escaped o. For hours after the ordeal, everybody was still shaking, apart from uncle Remi and Uncle Tre, who were fuming!
Uncle Remi was pissed at my grandmother for calling him a lunatic, and I suppose Uncle Tre was mad because he had chopped a hot Naija slap for the first time in his life.

To this day, Uncle Remi gets pissed when he remembers. He says Nigerians are too timid to stand up against armed robbers, which is why, he believes, we keep getting robbed. He kept accusing us of “cooperating” for ages.

That was a long time ago though... I’m pretty sure that if that happened today, me sef I no go gree. Yeah right! Omo life sweet men, who wan die?

Meanwhile Fine Grandma isn’t usually timid like that o. I remember one time, as a kid, I was relaxing with her at her house, when she got a phone call telling her that my Uncle Remi had been arrested.

She went crazy. We jumped into the car and raced to Sabo police station. We met my other Uncles Damo and Ladi there. Apparently, Uncle Remi had gotten arrested because he didn’t have his license on him or something trivial like that.

Fine Grandma: So why did you arrest him? He’s allowed 24 hours to produce his license!

Policeman: Madam, are you a lawyer? Go and sit down!

Fine Grandma: Are you mad? Do you know who you’re talking to?

Policeman: I don’t care if you’re the Inspector general’s mother. We will arrest all offenders!

My Uncle Ladi went livid when he saw how his mother was being disrespected. I don’t remember how everything jumped off, but all I know is that a major scuffle ensued. Uncle Ladi and Uncle Damo were in the thick of it with three policemen, and my grandma flung one skinny one off Uncle Damo.

The skinny policeman flew across the room and landed in the corner. I couldn’t believe it. What a chump! Long story short, the cops got a good thumping until some more policemen came in and locked Uncle Ladi and Damo up as well. Fine Grandma was not having it.

“Release my sons right now!”

Skinny Policeman: Release wetin? Move back, you this witch mama!

Fine Grandma: Yes, I'm a witch! In fact, it was your mother and I who flew to the meeting together last night. We wanted to use that your big head for money but the oracle said you were too ugly! Idiot.

The guy was silent. In the end, Fine Grandma made some phone calls, and my uncles ended up getting released. The DPO damn near lay flat on the floor for her, and promised to dismiss the policemen. Grandmomsi suggested that they be suspended for a little while instead, and that’s what happened.

Anyways y’all, I’ll update soon I promise. Fine Grandma’s pounded yam and efo beckons!

Monday, April 02, 2007

April Fool's weekend, Uncle Poppy and other stories......

I had a fantastic weekend guys! I should have put something up for you, but abeg no vex, I was too busy running around. Friday was pretty chill, I hung out with a couple of peeps, just jamming in the house. For the sake of April fool’s I had to play a couple of pranks as well now.

My close friends know me as a serial prank caller. I’ve gotten everybody with my Pakistani voice phone calls, so I’ve started switching it up. My friend Ngo gave me one of her friends’ numbers on Friday night, and everybody gathered around the phone. (I put it on speaker)

Tiwa: Hello

Me(in thick Yoruba accent): Is that my Tiwa Tiwa?

Tiwa: Err…yes…who’s this?

Me: It’s your uncle Pekun! Last time I saw you, you were a little, tiny thing like this. Hehe…your daddy gave me your phone number in Lagos. How are you my dear? Mummy e nko?

Tiwa: She’s fine thank you….

Me: Anyway my dear, I’m in London briefly, and I’ll be leaving tomorrow for New York, but I want to send some very small pocket money to you and your sister. I’ told Lanre(her dad’s name) that I’d get in touch. I hope £500.00 is not too small o, when you people come to Lagos again, I will see you ehn?

Tiwa: No problem sir, thank you very much uncle!

Chei! Uncle??? Now now? Ole.

Me: Ah, don’t mention. Nkan kekere ni. (It’s a little gesture.) Please give me your address.

The babe gave me the complete address o, with post code and everything! I wan die of laughter men.

Me: Okay my dear. Ba mi ki mummy e (Say hey to your mum.)

Tiwa: I will. Thank you so much Uncle. Have a nice day sir.

Uncle ko, uncle ni. People like money o! Men, Ngo hasn’t even told her it was us. The babe go wait tire.

Isn’t it funny how everybody has one of those uncles? One dude that you see like once in five years, and always reminds you of how little you were the last time he saw you, and then squares you some dough?

I have one like that, Uncle Akin. The man is loaded out the ying-yang, and he’s always happy to settle. I check him out whenever he’s in London o. He’s actually quite scary….he talks very fast and sitting with him is like being at a job interview. “Fineboy, how are your studies? What do you plan on doing after that? Why?” blah blah…but the bobo always drops dough, so I don’t mind. I remember one time though when I was a kid, that the guy finished me on the phone.

He called one afternoon to speak to my popsi, who wasn’t home. His wife had just died, and me I didn’t know o. So he tells me to take down a number. Remember when you were a kid, and wouldn’t feel like writing down a number and just kinda pretended that you were? That’s what I did.

“Tell him to call me….you have a pen?”

“Yes uncle.”

“Okay, 4611627…..or my brother-in-law’s house…...631379…”


“Read out the numbers to me..”



“You mean you didn’t write down the numbers?????”


“Are you stupid? You’re very stupid…are you stupid? You’re very very stupid!!! Stupid idiot…are you stupid?? Come on, go and get a pen!!!”

I’ve never run so fast to get a pen in my life. I love Uncle Akin though, the guy is a correct guy, unlike some of my other uncles. I have one other one, Uncle Muyiwa. Men, the guy owns hotels and all sorts, paid up! But this guy no fit square person one naira o.

Those days, we would be hoping that our uncles would give us dough, so we could blow money on ‘trips.’ But that Uncle Muyiwa ehn? As you walked to the car, the guy would put his hand in his pocket, bring it out and wave goodbye! Imagine. The guy never change o. I even jacked him last December, point blank, like “Oya uncle, drop something…”
He just smiled and said “That one na foul!” Fake guy!

My most notorious uncle is Uncle Poppy. Don’t ask. Apparently the guy was ‘the man’ when he was young, so his nickname was “Popular,” hence “Poppy”. The guy like woman eh? Jesus Christ! I remember one time, he was at our house in Lagos, and I heard him saying in a very low voice as I approached the kitchen….

“Darling, don’t worry! I will take care of you! Is it London? Is it Rome??”

Ah ah. Who Uncle Poppy dey follow talk?

When I entered the kitchen, I couldn’t believe it o. Blessing, our housegirl! That one too was smiling and holding his hand. Shuo! They both looked startled when I walked in, and my uncle goes, “Fineboy Fineboy! Blessing, get me get a glass of water..” and walked out. Imagine!

Apparently Uncle Poppy don kpansh all the housegirls that have ever been hired in his house, without fail. Now my aunty hires strictly houseboys, and very young ones sef, because she can’t put anything past the guy. Uncle Poppy doesn’t care o…tall, short, fat, razz, anything goes.

I’ve made up my mind sef that the guy won’t meet Finebabe anytime soon. You don’t know that guy men. One time, he was asking my ex if she’d ever slept in a 6-star hotel, if she’d been to Dubai, if she’d ever heard of Cartier shoes…blah blah… how young boys don’t know anything about enjoyment…blah..blah.

That one sef begin trip because she didn’t know that Cartier made shoes. She too was answering innocently, until I give am serious warning! That uncle poppy na criminal o.

That’s how at my cousin’s wedding last December, my cousin Derin introduced him to her friend, Funke. The guy was just smiling at the babe throughout, going “Funky baby, hehe…omo to da, to fine dada.” (Fine babe.) He must have said it like twenty times. How embarrassing!

It’s a shame that I wasn’t present for the funniest Uncle Poppy moment ever though. But I’ve heard the gist so many times, that I might as well have been there. Apparently, one day, Uncle Poppy pulled into the driveway at his house with my popsi. As he got outta popsi's car, his live-in driver, Godwin, came charging towards him.

“Oga! I should beat you to a pulp!”

Uncle Poppy and Chief Fineboy looked shocked.

Godwin shook a finger right in Uncle Poppy’s face.

“I suppose beat you, shameless man!”

He was livid o. Chief Fineboy asked him,

“Have you lost your mind?”

“Daddy, if not that you’re here sir, I will beat nonsense out of this shameless master! God know!”

Uncle Poppy stood with his mouth wide open.

Chief Fineboy goes, “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Sir, master attempted to step on my integrity! He was trying to copulate with my wife sir! Can you believe it? He lured her into that guest room and naked’ed himself sir!”

Chief Fineboy looked at uncle Poppy who said,

“Gerroff my property, madman!”

Everybody was tense, and Chief Fineboy’s driver, Mr. Sunday had to hold Godwin back. Chief Fineboy looked on in shock.

“Useless oga! Trying to make intercourse with my own wife!”

Uncle Poppy was embarrassed. Godwin left that day, and never came back, and it was apparently obvious that he was guilty as charged. Na Mr. Sunday give us the gist o, like 200 times.

“That ya uncle na wa o. The man like woman no be small. If to say Godwin wife gree am, e for climb am! Chineke, Godwin for break that him big head that day! Yeye man wey no fit respect himself…..e don climb all the small small girls wey dey sell bread for that area sef! No tell Oga say na me tell you o.”

As usual, I’ve veered off point…I wanted to tell you about my weekend o. Sorry, next update! I’ll holla soon y'all!