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Hello Again!
Long time no…., whatever it is we do, I missed you, where did you go? Did you leave or did I? maybe it was both, nor neither. It doesn’t matter. My question for today is, “how do you live a healthy life in Nigeria?”. Eat well?, sleep well?, take vitamins & supplements?. Well I think it’s minding your business.
So forgive me for not living a healthy life by intruding in your business once again. But I have heard and seen certain things that disturbs my soul and I cannot keep quiet any longer. I walked past a television set that was tuned to Emmanuel Tv. The prophet, Prophet T.B Joshua was performing the sacrament of exorcism on a man. The demon had been tormenting him for 12 years (in my mind 12 years a slave). After asking my mom if it was okay I turn off the generator set, I headed for the television. Just before the tv went off, the man confessed “A voice kept commanding him to do evil things he never wanted to do”. I turned off the tv set and the generator and went to bed.
As I laid on my bed, I remembered while I was in a friend’s wedding reception. The lady sitting next to me, had earlier revealed she had a huge sum of money in her purse when she brought out her cellphone to answer a call. She suddenly stood up and went outside, leaving her purse behind under no ones care (and protection). Who would have done that? But this lady. Like the man in the testimony, “a voice spoke to me, take her purse and go home”. I went home but not with her purse or the money in it.
So I stood up from my bed and decided to write this. The voices in our heads often represented in cartoons as little angels or devils that sits upon our shoulders. Some identify with it and feel it is them.
The voice that tells you to shoot your victim after he has given you all his money. ( Daddy.T.A may your soul rest in perfect peace Amen!).
The voice that tells you Western Education is a sin.

The voice that tells you to hypnotise little children, using them as suicide bombers.

The voice that tells you that innocent 6 year old school child, is what you want to use for money rituals. (tears drops)
Many have been disfigured, some dead, because of you “black marketers’’, the voice that tells you more profit can be gained by mixing little fuel and kerosene. (Ada, wherever you are, we still love and miss you dearly. You are not forgotten).
3 more minutes and lives would have been saved. The voice that tells you to attend to dying patients whenever you like. (Ose, you are forever in our hearts).
The voice that tells you, gatemen, houseboys and housegirls are to be treated like slaves. (No, they are your employees).
The voice that tells you lecturer, students must first pay money before getting good grades in your course. (does hard work still pays? IN THIS NIGERIA).
The voice that tells you that pastor, it’s okay to lure 13 year olds into your inner chambers. (“Not every one that says lord! Lord! shall enter into my kingdom”).
The voice that tells you, that lady it’s okay to wear “hour-glass dress” to your pastor’s house.
The voice that tells you it’s okay to have six children with your 25K salary and your husband has no job. (YES! Children are the leaders of tomorrow, but they need good feeding and education. Please, the economy is already in recession).
The voice that tells you your neighbor’s 12 year old daughter is matured enough for you to…….
I must stop here for I am now of a person, having eyes filled with tears; inclined to cry. The world’s moral compass is broken. How do we find the path back home. The evil men do, even the devil weeps. Life is tough for everyone, where do you get your strength to carry on. May the Lord be above us to bless us, behind us to protect us from the evil ones and in front of us as our moral compass.
AMEN!!!!Author: Akporotu OtaghoghoEmail: [email protected]: +2348040514579

African stories
There is love in SHARING



You’ve probably read a lot of thrills and feels about the NYSC orientation camp online- Except, of course, you exclusively subscribe to just whatsapp data plans, because I doubt if any publisher will devote a paperback to those sort of things.

So, back to the story. The experiences you read about, and sometimes hear of ( mostly from those who are still jobless after the scheme) makes you wonder how such a time would be for you. So many young people in a regimented  “Camp”, thrilling social nights, screaming soldiers- I mean, there’s no better way of escaping the crazy everyday Nigerian realities. Well, this excludes the politicians obviously. Realities and Nigerian politicians is like snow and Africa, for those who don’t get humor.

Moving on. You are bluntly excited about the experience, and you stealthily daydream about it, even if you do tell your friends you would have just preferred the darn discharge certificate, and that NYSC is a bloody waste of time, or productive man-hours ( if you know your vocabulary well).This is normal.

However, for most of you who are overtly excited; just as those Nigerians who had dollar accounts were, when the Naira “fell”. Well, we sadly want to tell you that you’ve heard as much truths and myths alike , and we have decided to selflessly debunk the myths, because we care. Like NFCS. Well they say»

More often than not , most articles you’ve read told you to stock up cash for camp, because the meals are horrificly poor, tasteless and any one other type of easy adjective they can conjure up.

THE REALITY: Ok, agreed, Camp meals don’t actually best the meals you’d eat at tantalizers and any other fast food you’ve not really been to, but the meals are just as ok as an average home-cooked meal.

“Average” here means meals that are not cooked at Christmas, or sallah, or any other special day that atheists choose as theirs. Shockingly too, 90% of PCM’S (please google this if you are not sure of what it means  hint: it’s not premium motor spirit) don’t miss these meals in camp, except for the occasional meal preferences, which we still totally have at our homes. We know you love your mum, and you’d raise the world for her, but is it every meal in your house that best those you get at the mall?

2. Mammy market sellers make a lot of profit
I just figured some of you might not know what “ mammy market” is. Oh well; cheer up, you are not google. You cant know every thing.
Well, mammy market is a mini market, usually attached to military, or paramilitary camps, and at the NYSC mammy market; practically, everything is on sale from helping you mend your shoes, to literally helping you  wash your under wears. Anything and everything- except hookers though, and porn too. oh! and explosives, and all other insane commodities your thoughts just drifted to.

Though, back to the crux of the issue. These mammy market sellers do charge a lot of money on the simplest of services, and inflate anything you probably forgot to bring from home, and accordingly, like Nigerian consumers that possess no chill whatsoever, most PCM’S are bitter towards them, and usually rain abuses on their fore-fathers for extorting them.

THE REALITY : Well, it turns out they have little choice in the matter, as camp officers charge them almost equivalent to a year’s rent, for just a three week event. The rent for selling spots are almost ridiculous, that the sellers channel  their economic anger on the PCM’S. For a moment, just sit back and imagine that the rent charged was not so much, won’t it be a vice versa case.
QUICK QUESTION;  Are the rent charges remitted to government? T.S.A is real. President Buhari, please read this.

Yes, relax, some soldiers are really mean. I am very aware of that. A little more than you. That’s why I avoid them altogether.
Naturally, the first picture that usually comes to mind when you picture NYSC camp, is how incensed soldiers chase graduates all around, reminding you of that police-catch-thief game you played during your childhood.

Nope. pictures may not tell the whole story, except you are called olajumoke.

THE REALITY: more often than not, some soldiers have funny and doting sides. These character may vary with other really weird idiosyncrasies though. The soldiers do push corpers and stretch them, but most times, they still laugh, joke around, and create a lively and whole atmosphere that really fill the whole camp memories you’d probably have.
Many memes and jokes about camp are usually about the soldiers. NOT CAMP OFFICIALS. Most of the camp officials are very perfunctionary and don’t bring any “life” at all to the table. Many are also engaged in a never ending quest to remind corp members that they are “graduates too” or “were once corpers”. No body has ever or would ever argue this. Some, annoyingly have a begrudged low self esteem, and impose themselves on very meaningless things in camp.
Of course, some of them are lovely people. very convivial. but just like the soldiers, there are different varieties of characters and one thing’s for sure. They will NOT be your knight in shining armor in camp.

4.Sexual romps in camps are ubiquitous 
So you just checked the meaning of ubiquitous or romps on your mobile dictionary. Well it doesn’t prove beyond all reasonable doubt that your school “helped” you in your WAEC English examination. No. Not yet.
Back to romps. There’s almost no article about camp life that wouldn’t mention a very dramatic sexual experience. Yes! You are correct. Some of them may even sound better than Nollywood. The old Nollywood. Not the awesome re-branded industry now. Ok! So the love (romp) story will usually culminate on how both parties never saw each other again. Jeez. “Both parties” yes. There’s absolutely no three-some in camp. Jeez. Imagine the sorts of thoughts that cloud your mind.
Back to romps again. Anyhow, some of the stories will end up telling you of how the romps and romance led to marital bliss.
The Reality: Well i’m sorry to burst the bubble on this. I truly am. See. You may never see, hear or experience any of such. Why? Because you my friend, are probably too lily-livered to risk decamping for a 7 minute affair?. (16 minutes? Dude it’s not a contest). Decamping may be the next myth. No, don’t check. It’s not. Decamping is as real as when you’re debited by your bank when the darn ATM (yes! Saying “ATM machine” is wrong) refused to pay.
So most Nigerians are good inventors. No. Not of machines or robots, but of modern folk tales, which they solemnly fail to classify as such. They hear of one particular experience- the odd ball- and edit the story to various tastes which spreads haywire. All I’m saying is sexual romps do happen but rarely. Truth is even those that tell there’s usually not the other party around to corroborate the story. Please don’t check corroborate. Defend your WAEC or BSc honorably.

5. There’s a glut of tears during P.O.P
Finally, there’s also the conception that on the final day of camp, during the passing out parade, there’s usually overflow of uncontrolled feelings, shedding of tears and you know, the normal narrative that involves the breaking of unmendable hearts.

The Reality : OK frankly, this is the rarest and I’m still doubting if people feel it happens. Well, people do cry, but it’s usually those that got a really terrible area or PPA and those whose PPA “runs” crashed, and they usually cry so internally that you may be tempted to help them let it all out. I’m playing way too much ain’t I?
But really, there are what we call mobile phones and of course social media. If you happened to hookup with your soul mate and you are posted to different areas in the SAME STATE wouldn’t two of you find how to work things out rather than crying like he’s going on those famed Nollywood evil forest quest. If “Oracle” or “Ebube” flashed through your mind now just know you’re supposed to be married at my time of writing this.

Enjoyed this? Well find less than this same amount of time to read my other “expository” articles on the #KhakiChronicles series like
-5 Real steps to getting a good PPA

Follow me on
Twitter @goggleiz
IG @Los_themaverick
Facebook : No, don’t send me a friend request
Skype me ; on my new Android phone when I actually break up with Blackberry or
You could just come to my PPA and follow me home,If you’re so much into the follow thingy.

African stories
There is love in SHARING


Could This Be An Attack On Men?

SIR A-ONE’s quotes on men

“You want a man to show you true love? Ask Google ‘what is true love?’ He cannot even define it properly.”

“Every man is addicted to a woman. The monks are not exempted.”

“Any man that lays hands on his mother or wife is as bad as Nigerian government.”

“Show me a sad man and I will show you a broke and sex-starved icon.”

“Any man that says a woman stinks is worse than the devil himself. She stinks, yet you want to die in between her legs.”

“If a man will not stop disturbing you as a woman, open legs for him and his stupidity will be activated the right way.”

“Men are like Robert Mugabe, they can be very silly at times.”

“Men will always be foolish in the presence of women. The more they try to adjust, the more stupid they become. Blame them not. They came out of women.”

“If money or woman doesn’t take a man’s life then he came out through caesarian.”

“Where they came out from, they will always want to die there. I wonder if they lost anything there. Very pathetic.”

“Show me a good man and I will show you a fantastic cheat.”

“If you like kill yourself as a man, you can never satisfy a woman in bed. When you are done, her energy to take more is always activated.”

African stories
There is love in SHARING


Walking or driving down the streets of Lagos, it’s no longer a strange trend to see beggars parade themselves in search of alms. In response to their most times very compelling cry, sympathizers hand them different denominations of the Naira but this however doesn’t stop them from calling out to the very next passerby. Let’s not even talk about the women who would go as far as using their infants/children as objects of pity just to get attention.

There seem to be no limits to the practice. Nowadays, it is common place to find such individuals in highbrow areas of the city properly dressed and well spoken who will BOLDLY, (please do not ignore the emphasis) walk up to a fellow passerby and ask to be helped sometimes with little or no courtesy at all. They do not even take into consideration if their supposed “helper” has the means to do so and this goes to say without mincing words, some beggars are often “richer” than their supposed helpers.

Recently, stories of unsuspecting alms givers becoming victims of robbery are being told in different quarters. They nag, trail their victims and some even wait for them by the ATM machines! Motor parks are their natural habitat and if one pays attention to detail, they would discover they have given help to someone who claimed to be “stranded” more than once.

One cannot help but ask what the reasons for these dubious acts could be. Is the government and society to blame? Why would a fully fledged man/woman without any form of disability make it a habit to ask his fellow struggling man (yes struggling because everyone has his own battles) for help? How does one identify a beggar who is genuinely in need of help? Does ignoring a beggar’s plea make you insensitive to the needs of others?

Truth be told, like corruption, the means to curbing the practice of begging may not be adequately effected. It is therefore left for every individual to be on the lookout trusting your instincts, your God or whatever it is you believe in, to help you decide whether or not you should offer assistance to them. No one deserves to be repaid with evil for good. So next time you are walking or driving down the road and a beggar approaches you, ask yourself…who you epp? I rest my case.

African stories
There is love in SHARING


A city that never sleeps; was a popular phrase, by one of my uncles, who virtually spent over twenty years as a resident in Lagos. He has retired now after 35years of dedicated civil service. A city, I always dreamt of as a kid, heard of on the News and read on the pages of the Guardian Newspaper. O yes, I was some-what privileged to read two National Newspapers daily. My thoughts of the town “Lagos” were; high rise buildings/offices, smooth roads of international standards, wonderful bridge connectivity, creative and intriguing people and lots of money. One thing never really fascinated me about “Lagos”, yes; surely, traffic, the unending traffic situation on its roads. My uncle never failed to mention his experiences when he drove in traffic.

On a daily basis, commuters are faced with the hassles and rigors associated with plying the roads to their destination. Trust me, moving slowly along a route isn’t pleasurable. Suffice it to say that, my uncle in question, never got used to the traffic “who does anyways”; but accepted it. Despite the traffic odds against me, I still nursed the idea of harvesting my crops, in the captivating town I read in the Newspapers and heard so much about-a city with prospects!

The centre of Excellence, welcomed me with the baptism of traffic; Seeing indeed became “my reality”, as pictures and stories couldn’t relate the true deal. Reality thus became my true picture.
The first three months, made me always exhibit coldness towards boarding, majority of the retarded danfo buses. It was always tough hustling for an available bus, I struggled with sitting positions. Earnestly, I virtually got stuck in the buses, throughout the journey like congealed tin milk. I believe most of us have experienced same, God help you, if your blood seizes, refusing to circulate, as you alight at your Bus-stop.
Months scaled past, productive time, was wasted in the traffic as I constantly nagged “crazy Lagos”, whenever I got caught up in traffic. My lips went; halleluyah, when the roads, were free, devoid of any form of chaos.

But as time passed, I realized that the traffic wasn’t that bad, after all I could eventually make effective use of it. Music and books came to my immediate and remote rescue and other times found a chat buddy or just engage in my dream world (sleep). Most people would always argue about the traffic. Are people really happy? Should we just be uncomfortable and nag about the hours wasted, or make positive use of it. Of course, Lagos could be crazy, traffic could be chaotic, it will never be convenient, but your time spent in traffic could be controlled and managed effectively. A week ago, I spent about four hours, to my destination, a usual trip of forty minutes. Besides, who knows, Lagos traffic may have come to stay. What we do with it makes the difference. Invest crazily and wisely with the traffic as a driver and passenger, find your spouse, business partners and other times please do patronise the Chips, Gala and Lacasera street hawkers, before Governor Ambode perfects his eradication threat. (lol.) I wonder if some of us will survive without those hawkers. They are a blessing in disguise especially when traffic suddenly affects your taste buds.(lol)

Your experience may differ, however you remain one unique Lagos road commuter. Start by drawing out a constructive solution to any available road menace.

Enjoy the city; that never sleeps.

African stories
There is love in SHARING