The proceedings of the night


Dear Diary,

          I attempted to pull off this look today. But I wasn’t satisfied with the outcome.
No I won’t show you the photo simply because I am angry. On my way home from a meeting and the water below the Eko bridge stinks like a certain sour meal I am thinking of. And also because the picture I have isn’t that good.

Really this smell is affecting my ability to think straight. I need happy thoughts.
Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts.

Oh yeah. I co-wrote and was featured in a VJ Adams’ song. My part was small but not too small to pass your ears if you listen. I mean, how could you miss it? I start the damn song!!

Ok it is not a damn song. It is a good song celebrating the Super Eagles and the grand idea and notion and phenomenon of being a champion, a survivor, a hustler, a Nigerian basically.
So it’s me, Yvonne (who?) and Tiwizi the producer-cum-singer-cum-guy who works on my nerves everytime. seriously he is an amazing producer You may or may not know him from that Bez’s Stupid Song video as the guy in a black suit that was dancing like a “what’s that name for people who run mad at moonlit nights?” AHA!!! Lunatic

So download it and enjoy.


It has just come to my notice that it’s Akan’s birthday?
                  Who again?

My friend!!!! The boss. The don!!!!!


And I didn’t wish him Happy Birthday. I wonder how I would have known, seeing as he didn’t tell me before time and I am not witches and wizards and mammy water spirits. Now he is forming vex for me. Mmsschewwwwwwww.

I’ve gotten to Costain, my bus stop. Can’t wait to get off. These yoruba men in the bus have been arguing since I got in at Lekki

I just can’t.


Sad day for Nigeria



Dear Diary,
          A bomb went off in Nyanya park, Abuja and killed a lot of people. A lot of bombs have been exploding in the North and killing a lot more people.
Nigerians are outraged. As they should well be. It is a sad, sad situation. We’ve taken to our knees in prayer way too many times that we have forgotten that power rests in our own bosoms to effect the change we want to see. Egypt had had it with its dictator leader and it took to the streets to fight for its own liberation from oppression. Early in 2013, the Federal Government removed fuel subsidy thereby making the price of fuel skyrocket, then Nigerians seemed to have had it and protested. After little effort, the Government brought down the price just a little bit and all the brouhaha disappeared. Everyone went back to work with their tails behind their legs. 
Later last year, the Academic Staff of Nigerian Universities embarked on a strike because of the dilapidated state of affairs of the Nigerian tertiary education system and demanded for a fair amount of money from the Government to set certain things right. The Federal Government stalled and both parties went back and forth for over 6 months while students sat at home, pining away in desperation and depression. In the end, only a paltry amount was paid in by the Government and ‘GBAM’, everything died down. I visited a hostel in the University of Calabar campus last month. What I saw in all the toilets made me vomit, literally.

With all the corruption and insecurity looming above our heads and coming down fast on us, we are doing nothing but praying and criticising the Government and we ourselves are doing absolutely nothing to remedy the situation.

In the end, all we will say is “God help Nigeria”



Help!! My dad’s on Twitter

Help!! My dad's on Twitter

Dear Diary

Help!! My dad’s on Twitter.
Wanna know what’s even worse? He made me open the account for him.
Call me a bad son or whatever you feel like, but I’m sorry I’m not having this. My dad and I have fought over a few of my posts on Facebook. Like one photo I posted of myself and tagged it “Feeling sexy”. It was Word War III over the phone between us.
Over the phone because I live in Lagos and my family lives in Calabar.

On Twitter I am a no holds barred kinda tweeting guy. I will say it with no reservation. Not like I post anything sexual or obscene. But please, I’m not about to fight with my dad because of Twitter. If the small one I do on Facebook gives him a heart attack, then Twitter will just plain kill him.

So please dear diary, don’t have a big mouth. Please just keep it between us.