Tuesday, 29 December 2015


For some reasons best known to the back benchers, the lecture theatre was noisy. At that point I imagined it being a norm to make a list of noisemakers in a university, and as a punishment, such persons be made to cut grass (tell me it won't be epic seeing law students cut grass in their  white and black 😂😂 😂 😂).

I turned to see those who would make such list when I sighted one of my course mates who had on a very beautiful weave. In a way, we have the same shape of face although my head is twice the size of hers. I approached her immediately the lecturer stepped out of the class and greeted her so warmly she asked if I was running for a political post as it would explain why I was being so friendly. I asked her for the name of her weave and she said it was a naked weave. Initially, I thought “naked weave” was a brand name like Chocolate and I made to write it down but she was quick to tell me it was one of those weaves that don’t come in pack. I smiled and lied that I knew and was only checking if my new pen was working. I asked her how much it cost and she said she got one for 15thousand naira and she used two bundles. I swear, I heard my bank account laughing at me but I kept preaching to myself that nothing was too hard for the living God I serve.  The closure was also nice so I asked to take a picture, but my phone’s camera took a terrible picture and she offered to send a picture from her Iphone. I turned on my Bluetooth eagerly and was trying to create a connection when she told me “Iphones don’t have bluetooth” and she offered to send it through whatsapp. I got to my room and was thinking of how many months of drinking water and salt it was going to take me to save up 15thousand naira (I already made up my mind I was only going to use one ignoring the size of my head). 

    Later in the evening I went to a store where they sell weaves and other hair accessories with the hope of asking if the owner was in need of a sales girl/ assistant/ gardener/driver for two months. Unfortunately, I met a sales girl who looked like she was made to curse so I hurriedly changed mission and showed her the picture of the weave I wanted. My joy knew no bound when she said “ah expression lo se weafon yii” (expression made this weaveon). I asked her to show me and she brought the weave. Actually, it had similar curls but the texture was really terrible, it felt like the sponge used for washing dead bodies (don’t ask how I know what the sponge feels like). I knew deep within me that it was not the same weave at all but I knew saving 15k within two months was not possible, especially now that there was no gardener’s job for me. It cost 650naira for one but since I bought two, the sales girl sold one for 600naira. That night, I slept with a smile on my face and I even dreamt that Expression made me one of their hair models after seeing a picture of the hair on me on Instagram with #Expressioncurls#

The next day was a Thursday and I didn’t have a class till 2 so I decided to go fix the weave. My hairdresser said she fixed the same weave for someone the previous day, though I knew she was lying, I didn’t mind. “E ba mi shey ko fine o” I told her.
  After 45mins of what felt like she was digging my scalp for gold, I looked in the mirror and I was looking like this

It was really terrible. It looked like the woman  got lost on my head while trying to close up the fixing.
I was looking like that ram God sent to Abraham. The woman's little daughter who just woke up ran out when she saw me. I was screaming and asking why she made "jazz" on my head. She felt so bad and did not take money  for her services (not like I was willing to pay). I told her to loosen the weave and as she was doing that I was crying, I still  do not know if I was crying because of the pains or for the fact that my overnight dream of becoming a hair model which I considered a possibility  had been shattered.
Last week, I saw the girl in class with a new weave. Nobody taught  me when I shifted my gaze and focused on the lecturer who was cracking dry jokes and laughing at them alone, "I won't name names".
Tomorrow, I'm going to cut my hair. I cannot  come and go and die.

P.S: Sorry for the AWOL that i WOL. It was due to unforeseen circumstances. I wrote quite a number of stories while i was away (this story is one of such). I hope to post the others soon.

P.S.S: I dont take christmas chicken. I'm a beefer god and I am still taking beef/ money for cow.

Tuesday, 10 November 2015

B.O.T.Hs by #BLUE

Good morning great young minds.. Without much adue.. Please let me introduce you to the Future.. Let me introduce you to #BLUE.

B.L.U.E: acronym for Born leaders Under Enlightenment, is a coalition of 4 pro-active young African minds, poised to make an impact in the next generation of African youths via every modern method possible.. Our mission is simple.. To Touch, create and inspire more young minds to be Braver than their fears, Stronger than their weaknesses and to excel far beyond their personally set limitations, because at BLUE we believe “In a life without Boundaries”

Sequel to her maiden event tagged “Love and Social Media” as held earlier in the year, BLUE is scheduled to hold her follow up event Tagged; “Battle Of The High Schools (B.O.T.Hs)” #FestacEdition at Festac Town Lagos on November the 13th 2015.

What is BOTHs?! BOTHs is an inter secondary school competition, in which 10 of the Prime Secondary schools ion Festac Town (Public and Private owned) come together to participate in QUIZ, and Spelling Bee competitions on behalf of their institution, all with an aim of improving the willingness to Learn, and enthusiasm to compete all at the same time. The details are:

Theme: Battle of The High schools (BOTHs)
Date: November 13th 2015
Time: Registration starts by 9: 00 AM
Venue: St Mary’s College, 23Road besides Guarantee Trust Bank, Festac Town Lagos.

For More enquiry and partnership, please contact Omuojine Isioma: +2347038868540 and for live update, please follow us on Instgram @_blueafrica with the official hashtag for the event #BOTHs2015

Saturday, 24 October 2015

Its about to go down!!! (I'm terrible with post titles)

So, here is a list of ten places where you can do unholy things in the university; and I might probably suggest some places where only Uites know ( I don’t know why you didn’t pick UI, but you do realize it’s never too late to get a jamb form right?). I will not be the one to define unholy things; rather I’d leave your unholy minds to fill in the gap.
 *grabs mic*
Let’s do this
1. Your room: Lucky you if you have a room outside school. I bet one of the reasons you got the room is “privacy”? Well,deep within, we both know it’s because your mischievous mind considered the likelihood of opportunities to do some unholy things which would require you having your own room . If you stay on campus, all hope is not lost. You can still do it in your room especially when you have just one roommate who goes to the church/mosque a lot or makes the library his or her second home (if I were a guy, I’d be that kinda sensible roomie). You are even luckier if your roommate has the same likeness for such things, you people could do it together. Calm your balls, I don’t mean together like that kind of together, biko, don’t make Vaseline more expensive than it is. I mean together like taking turns...

2. The library: Ghen Ghen, who says its only books one reads in a library? Don’t you watch Hollywood movies? Although I agree that our libraries might not be as sophisticated, well furnished and neat as theirs, you can still do your thing in between those stacks of books.
     If your “unholy thing” involves making babies, you stand a higher chance of making intelligent babies. So, go to the library today and let’s replay some Hollywood movies.

3. The library’s toilet: if you are too shy to do it in between books and you don’t want bookworms, you can go to the toilet since your body system is already used to stench and you can do anything anywhere even if it’s a latrine. Your child is not going to be a toilet cleaner although when he grows up you might discover that his head is full of shit… literally. I used ‘his” because I’m sure only a male child can be reproduced under such circumstances.*picks race before the guys reading this lynch me*.

4. Heritage Park: Any student of UI, especially Queens hall girls would know this is the centre of unholy thing. Most of us, including yours faithfully, have found ourselves there at one point or the other (please, some of us go there for tutorials). Just wear long trousers so mosquitoes don’t spoil the moment for you. You can also consider wearing pull over and head warmer because the cold there is not from this side of the world. In fact, if you have blanket and socks I’ll advise you hold those along too. To complete the whole equation you can as well carry your bed and pillow,. You see you don’t need much to do things in heritage park.

5. Legendary love garden: Why do you think it’s called love garden? Things go down here every night.

6. Bus: You can purposely go and look for a bus loading places on campus that don’t get passengers on time. don’t forget to take your position at the back of the bus. I assume you watch Hollywood movies and you know how it is done.

7. Burial ground: It might come as a shock to some people to know that there used to be a burial ground in UI. Well, there is burial ground at the back of chapel and if all those places I’ve mentioned earlier don’t suit you, this is the perfect place for you. The place is all covered with bushes and trees now so you don’t have to be scared. Besides, is it not just to have spirits singing into your ears and a few horny spirits joining your make out? What’s there??

8. Awba dam: Most people that go here have cars but for those of you that don’t have cars, you still get a shot. You can also go there to do your thing and as usual if it involves making babies, you could get lucky and have a mammy water child. Yes, I’m superstitious and I believe there are mammy waters in any water; even swimming pool. I know you have heard that mammy water children are always fine.

9 Under the trees: One beautiful thing about UI is that we have plenty beautiful and large trees. Locate the nearest tree to you and you can go there to do your thing. There are some fascinating creatures the Yorubas call ebora inu igi. I’ve never seen one before, I’m hoping you’d come across one so you will be able to write a book about how it/they look(s)… that is if you still have your eyes after you see it/them (I heard each of them usually have more than one head)

10. V.C’s office: If you are as bold and as courageous as I am (*pops collar*), you would walk straight to the VC’s office and tell him you need his office to do your shii. All you need do is go to a babalawo’s place and get “afoshe” or one of those substances Lere Paimo and all those actors rub on their lower lip in Yoruba movies to make people become their puppets for a while or forever (please, if you by any chance get this substance, I need it biko, let me try it on a bank manager so he’ll start pumping money into my account). Well, if it doesn’t work on the VC, I hope you know the way out of the university. I also hope you are not the first child of your family whom they are expecting to complete school and train the others because my nigga, we probably just saw the end of your career in school.
Let me end this list with “I don’t know tho” so nobody would say I was the one who spoilt their career.
This is my own list.
 Uites suggest other places I didnt mention and our peeps from other universities, tell us about your school's top 10.

Wednesday, 21 October 2015

It all began with a smile

It all began with a smile... the smile that finally made love songs sensible, that made holiday lessons worth the trek...
I was 15(young and stupid) and unlike everyone else, I hated holiday lessons,
 ...I hated to see the boys from my secondary school struggle to impress girls from 'all girls' school.

I hated the wannabe girls
...I hated the way my brother always shouted 'Aunty Dami' anytime he saw me with my friends
 ...I hated the lesson teachers
...I hated the show off of whose school was the best
 I hated everything...

Then it all began to change, the day I lifted my eyes from the sight of the boring text of 'the old man and the sea' to the sight of him, need I say the most handsome boy I had ever seen (did I mention that I never fancied the boys from my school, what with the body odour and the lame toasting and for the record, they didn't exactly like me for I was 'stuck up' in their opinion) So back to my prince charming, he was my definition of perfect, his teeth were actually white (wow I thought all 15year old boys had natural yellow teeth) and then he looked in my direction though for like a millisecond but hey he looked at ME
 Then after lesson that day, some girls brought him up like 'that ss3 boy that came to collect chalk in our class is fine' (wow she read my mind) but my response was 'mtcheeew, he is not that fine'
later, I overheard the fine boy and one of my school boys talking and as hard as I tried to eavesdrop the only thing I heard was 'don't even bother, she may not even answer if you greet her' and that week sha continued to be dry as usual but the drooling and crushing continued too. But. Nothing. Happened

      Just when I was about to give up, the goddess of Cinderella smiled at me and my mum(unknowingly) being the agent of the gracious goddess decided to delay in picking up me and my brothers after lesson and then my moody self and my legion of brothers(the quiet one, the happy-go-lucky one and the whiny one) were all waiting (impatiently need I say) and the goddess also went ahead to minister to the cute boy to forget his assignment note in school and sent him back to ME. Trust me na, I acted cool ehn, I even almost denied my brothers and then he actually says hello (sadly to my brothers) then he continues to chat with them almost totally ignoring me and I was just there waiting for my turn and when I noticed that my turn might not come, I decided to 'put my mouth' and that was when he 'actually' noticed me(now that I'm wiser, I know he was just forming) and boy did I melt when he smiled at me and then I found out that he stayed on my street.

      {I think this is the point where I tell you that this isn't the fairy talic happy ever after cliche} So sha that's how I found myself begging my mum the next day to 'allow me and my brothers trek home b'cos everybody use to trek' and so like that like that cute boy starting escorting me and my brothers home

        {fast forward} I sha did one stupid hard to get for a long time...Like seeing him and saying 'whats the meaning of that message, pls stop sending love messages to my phone" the same texts that I secretly re read and memorized or even when my school girls whined me, I was always forming 'I don't even like the boy, I can dash you'
To cut the long story short sha, we lost contact for a long time and the next time I saw cute boy, he was dating an old friend from another school. And that, my friends, is how a 16 year old girl can get her heart broken.
    Dear cute boy, if you are reading this, Know these:
I loved you{}, I was just forming...
 ...I loved the wristwatch you bought for me {still remember the colour}
...my brothers loved you(I love them too BTW)
... I crammed the lyrics of a love song for you
 That was the best holiday lesson ever.

BAMISILE Damilola Blessing
 For Tales by Mo' blog

Wednesday, 19 August 2015


  You know what they say about “what you know how to eat best killing you”? Well, I recently discovered that “what you listen to best may fall your hand”.
I was with potential boo (hereinafter referred to as PB) when his mum called to ask if his weekend would be free, the responsible somebody told his mum he was going to get back to her and he ended the call to ask what I thought of going together. I initially said he could go without me but he insisted that we go together and I eventually said yes.Our unborn babies leaped for joy; dada was taking mama to see grandma. 
That Saturday morning, I ironed my dress so hard the iron almost stopped working. We got to their place and his mum was glad to see us; me especially. He introduced me to her as his “very good friend” and then he whispered something into her ear and she smiled. His younger sister and brother were also very glad to meet me. His elder sister was giving attitude for reasons best known to her. Set to impress, I joined the mum and her two daughters in the kitchen and helped with some petty chores. I helped PB’s brother clean his ass when he finished passing out shit, something that irritates me like the shit itself and I almost volunteered to help trim the flowers in their compound.
Later on, we all sat in the living room (except PB), to watch a Christian message broadcast. So where are you from? PB’s mother asked and I answered. “My best friend in my university days is from there and she was and still is a very nice lady”, she said smiling.  I smiled back and was silently thanking the best friend for “repping” my people well. Then out of the blue, she asked “What kind of music do you listen to”.  The girlfriend in me wanted to scream “aarrrrgh emi omo Nicki Minaj ati Future; awa ti Olamide badooo, ehn emi eyan Reminisce alaga ibile” but the wife and mother in me suppressed her. PB once mentioned how much his mum likes Tope Alabi, Baba ara and Sinach and let me chip it in that PB’s dad is a pastor and PB’s mum is by that calling a pastor’s wife, so I told her/ lied that I love Tope alabi, Yinka ayefele, baba ara, bola are and I mentioned a few gospel singers that are quite popular. She was nodding as I was making the list and it was obvious that she was very impressed. Children of nowadays don’t listen to such good music, they only listen to those “iyeyeye” songs that add no meaning to their lives, she said. “That’s true ma”, I said, “I don’t like all those kind of songs, good Christian songs inspire me a lot. I’m a chorister in my church and I even compose songs” I added when nobody asked me.
 That very moment, the demon of lie/ the spirits of all the true choristers that don’t sing off key and don’t miss rehearsals decided to put my enemy to shame. Something that sounded like my phone began to ring.  ”Tantantantan…tantantantan…tantantan…eyin omo wobe; wobe, eyin omo wobe; wobe, mo gbo information” I ignored it and PB’s sister that had been shaking her head for me all along was like “pick your call na”. Oh…ermm, I did not know it was my phone, I stuttered as I brought out my phone to turn it off. The mother said she likes the beat and asked if it was Yinka Ayefele’s new release.  Yinka kini, I thought and quickly said no.  I told her that I am from “Wobe local government” and that the song is for the preservation of our cultural heritage and to hail us such that when we hear “eyin omo wobe”, we say “wobe”…

When PB came back and I told him what happened, he could not stop making jest of me. He later told me that his elder sister had told their mum I  was lying when I left and she had googled  the lyrics of “bobo” and even “ladi” by lil kesh, olamide and phyno (a picture of a part of ladi’s lyrics is attached to this post), I wanted to faint . Although the mum was disappointed that I lied, PB did not mention anything about her telling me not to come near him. So people of God, send the names of the gospel songs you know, I am a changed person now.

P:S: I fell in love with “hooka” by tyga ft young thug while writing this post… don’t tell me I’m going to hell.
P.S.S: thanks to my baby, oluwaseun for putting this post up for me this night as my device refused to cooperate

Wednesday, 12 August 2015


There had been no light in their area for quite a while. Frustration made her consider trying what she saw in a picture earlier that day on a neighbour’s friend’s phone; a guy charging his phone with a stove. She knew it was a joke but she had a strong urge to try it. What if it actually works? she thought as she approached the kitchen to bring out one of their three haggard stoves. The stoves had been passed down to her family when their owners bought electric cooker or gas; the last hand down was 3years ago. Nobody had given them a stove after then… because nobody else on the street had gotten an electric cooker or gas.

She checked for kerosene and found a considerable amount and she silently begged God to make the charging technique work. She was keen on powering on her phone that night because she had to play “Snake Xenzia”, the only game her phone had. She had seen a particular game on the neighbour’s friend’s phone earlier and although she heard the guy saying the name of the game was “temple run”, her mind told her that it was when she got to certain levels in Snake Xenzia that it automatically becomes that game. Ah, yes, there was light in the guy’s area but No, she could not go there to charge because they had dogs neither could she give him the phone to charge for her because the phone’s charging point was verrrry bad and she always has to sit in a way such that the phone’s charger touches her hand. If she removes her hand, the phone stops charging; the phone is what you call “FejeRun” (it requires human blood to function)

Aunty, what are you doing again? Her younger brother asked as he entered the dim room. The dimness of the room did not stop her from seeing his head which was as big as a mini Olumo rock and his stomach which was the Olumo rock itself. I’m cooking my phone she said as she shouted the boy out of the room. He had said “again” because earlier that day while she was fetching water from the well, she saw something that looked like a 500naira note in the well and had made to enter the well to pick it. If not for the timely presence of one of their male neighbors, she would have entered to pick the money which turned out to be one of the cut papers her younger brother and his friends use as money when they acted their silly dramas. Her mother had sat on the floor all afternoon crying and telling everyone that cared to hear that “mammy water” spirit was pushing her daughter to come to them… she knew her mum knew somewhere deep within her that it was the spirit of poverty directing her steps.

She lit a match stick and held the phone right above the stove. “charge please charge” she began to chant and she later switched to “I command you in Jesus name, begin to charge” she was tempted to go into her mum’s Ghana must go and take anointing oil so she could rub it on the phone but she decided against it because she remembered how much it cost her mum to buy one and how precious it is to her. The phone was very hot after five minutes and it still refused to hear the word of God and come on. She could no longer hold it with her bare hands so she dropped the phone and rushed to bring one of her clothes to hold it, she thought she dropped the phone on the ground but she didn’t. She came back to the room with a piece of clothing and she picked up the phone which she had dropped right on the stove…

Aye mi! Eri! Eri! Eri oooo! She could hear a voice calling her name… that was her mum’s way of waking her every morning without the “aye mi” part so she could go hawk pap for the day. She wanted to stretch on her mat but she could not move her body, had her younger sister rolled on top of her again? “Doctor please, I do not have 150 thousand naira. The only 2500 I have, I lost in the fire” she heard her mum say. There was a doctor in their house? She tried to open her mouth and ask her mother who was sick and why she could not just take the person to the State Hospital but her lips were inseparable, she tried to open her eyes but she could not. Then she began to feel the pains, her body was on fire. It felt like she had been cut in several places and pepper had been poured right into the cuts. She wanted to scream and beg whoever was pouring the pepper to stop and wash it off but she could not. She heard the doctor saying that the 150 thousand naira was only just enough to try and see if something could be done to her disfigured face but her left leg which something cut so deep in the fire had to be amputated. She knew what amputation meant…did the doctor say fire? The stove!! The phone!!Snake xenzia!! Then it all began to make sense; the phone had exploded…

Her mum began to cry and beg the doctor, but she heard the doctor walking away. Her mum sat next to her and held one of her heavy hands. Ouchhh! Leave that hand alone mummy, she wanted to scream at her mum but she could not. Her mother started sobbing, blaming the spirit of her dead husband for leaving her and wanting to take away their daughter. Not the spirit of daddy, Eri thought, the spirit of Snake Xenzia; if there was anything like that. She wanted to tell her mum to stop crying but it suddenly felt like something was in her chest and it was stopping her from breathing… whatever it was apparently made her start breathing heavily; get off my chest she wanted to scream, but she couldn’t. Doctor! Doctor! Her mum screamed and ran out. She came back with the doctor and after some minutes of what felt like a year, the doctor said she had passed on… she knew what that meant.

That was what the doctor told her mum when her dad died. She wanted to tell the doctor she was not dead, her spirit was still in her body, they could amputate the leg and leave her disfigured face as it was but she did not want to die yet… she wanted to be rich… she wanted to have the very good things of life… she knew if she died then she was going to hell and if the fire that burned her on earth left her like this, she could not imagine what that of hell; the natural habitat of fire would do to her. She remembered that a brother on their street whom she and others refer to as “holy holy” had once told her that God can forgive anyone at anytime. So she began to pray for forgiveness of sins, asking God not to send her to hell fire; dear father, please forgive me my sins, accept me into your kingdom… I know I am sinner but please God forgive me, Jesus please beg God for me, God please…

Eri! Eri! Eri oooo! Its 6.00am, wa lo kiri ogi. “ But Mummy, I’m dead!!!!” she wanted to scream as she opened her eyes. It was a dream! She was not dead, she checked her body and except for the mosquito marks on her body, her skin was intact. Thank God,she said as she stood up smiling, wiping the sweat off her face and she gently moved her younger sister out of her way. “Mummy, I’m coming ooo” she said as she took the tray for hawking and ran to the backyard.

P.S: sorry for the long absence... exams decided to show it's face,remember me in your prayers biko

Photocredit: google

Wednesday, 3 June 2015

Odoomode Olowo (Young Millionaire)

Good morning loves of my life. How was the night? Mine was splendid, thanks for asking.

It wasn’t like I was jobless or something but I had nothing to do (on a second thought, I was jobless) so I decided to call random numbers. The plan initially was to say something scary like “I’m the ghost of the girl you killed last night! watch your back ahahahahahahah” but I didn’t want to give someone hypertension because as a law student, I know it’s a crime/tort (not sure if it is the two) to put someone in mental apprehension of imminent danger . I decided to just call, giggle and end the call. Nigerians are not curious fa, none of them even flashed back, just one of the numerous numbers I called sent me a Please Call Me back. The message had something about playing for a mega lotto worth 5million naira (you send 4 digit bet numbers between 0000 and 9999 to 30800) which was obviously attached by MTN. Tbh, I usually ignore such things but maybe because the girl really needs kudi bad bad, I went back to the message hours after I closed it as I couldn’t stop thinking about MY 5million naira that was lying in MTN’s bank account. You know how I know it’s my money? I took a nap that afternoon and the holy spirit appeared to me ( more like the sprit was in form of a still voice speaking to me from the huge 5million naira cheque presented to me in front of plenty plenty microphones and cameras) and I could hear it/him/her saying in a calm voice: I belong to you!!! Go for me!!!

I believe this is a good sign and you know what they say about dreams coming true. Pursuant to this gentlemen and gentlemen in skirts , I have decided to put my house in order before my big money comes so mi o ni wa caught unawares. You better famz me now because when I become a millionaire I’ll tell my P.A. to check my blog and only those who leave comments will get a picture of the 5million naira cheque sent to their mailbox so they can make it a point of contact when they are praying . In a bid to appropriately appropriate MY 5million naira (we millionaires say appropriate and not spend! Learn) I’ve come up with 10 things I’ll do with the money.

1. Pay my tithe: Skweeze me, I’m not overly religious but I seriously do believe in paying tithe. I grew up watching my mum pay the tithe of virtually every cash she got and although she initially forced us to follow her steps, I do it willingly now because I know its good business (CC: Malachi 3 v 10-11) God actually does replenish my pocket and so 500,000 naira. We are left with 4.5million.
2. Give my mother something out of it: I’m a typical Yoruba girl and it’s just one of the cultural/morally right thing to do. You are expected to give your parents your first pay and they can decide to :
a. Take everything and bless you
b. Take half, return half and bless you
c. Return all and bless you
d. Take everything and ask you when the next one is coming in so you can split that one into two too.
Since its technically not my salary and I can’t risk giving my mummy everything and having her tell me how long she has been feeding me, how I’m still too young to handle such money and how she has to keep it for me so it won’t be stolen/misappropriated (because her own bank account has bullet proof shebi) I won’t give her everything , her share is 1million naira. I’m left with 3.5million naira, my sisters get 500 thousand naira each so I’m left with 2.5m.

3. Chill this is number 3 and I have just 2.5m left??? biko go back. Cut my younger sister’s share to 200 thousand naira, she can’t be taking the same thing as my elder sister; she doesn’t even kneel down to greet me and I’ll be talking to her she’ll be pressing phone. Reduce my elder sister’s own to 300 thousand too, she yabbed me yesterday because I mistakenly wore her cloth thinking it was mine and then she didn’t transfer the 50 naira credit I begged her to so I can call more random numbers. So I’m left with 3m, I’ll put 1million naira in fixed deposit account (I don’t know how this works but I’ll ask around) or buy shares since I can’t run a business for now (as the lazy somebody that I am)

4. Buy suya worth 5k from the Mallam in front of preboye’s (if you are/were a Uite and you’ve not tasted preboye’s suya you are a passerby) when I resume school and I’ll also buy sugar so I can take enough suya and garri. I’ll give Damilola my roommate 1 thousand naira to buy her own so she won’t be staring at my mouth.

5. I still have roughly 3million shey? I’ll buy plenty white shirts, black shirts, black dresses , shoes, bags,makeup, law textbooks I’d be needing till final year and a few motivational books (which I might end up not reading because I prefer softcopy)

6. I'll buy a new phone; Samsung galaxy S6 edge and probably get a tab too.

7.So I still have like 2.5m, I’ll buy land in Ibadan or Akure. I do not know how much it will cost but the max I’m letting off here is 1.5million naira.

8. I'm left with 1million, I’ll give my good friends 10k each. (kayode, you are not my good friend so don’t even think you are getting anything; the only thing you’ll get is notebooks and pens)

9. I’ll buy 10 Mtn sim cards and keep it. Whenever anyone I know is celebrating his/her birthday, that would be their gift (that’s like giving back to MTN a share of what they MUST give me. If you’ll be celebrating your birthday between now and July 1st apply within for the birthday gift as the sim cards are limited). I'lll recharge my phone with 10k and subscribe for Mtn callertune (“seven seven seven is a number” precisely) and all those other things they constantly pester us to subscribe for.

10. Lastly, there would be giveaways for my blog visitors.

There you go thousanaires, as the millionaire that I am, I’m going to get a chequebook from my bank today in faith.  Your time will come soon... dont forget to make your own list too.

P.S: See I didn’t include car in my list and God has miraculously provided one for me. A message arrived while I was writing this and I’ve been told to send Ok to 35680 to win a Hyundai i10. Don’t send ok to 35680,I repeat don’t send ok to 35680!! The message is not for you.
P.S.S: I have pictures I wish to attach but I guess MTN is vexed that I'm coming for my money hence the terrible network