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Best Rapper

First of I’m a Rapper, I think I’m the BEST, hear me out http://www.hulkshare.com/97c3tqmy8br4

But that aside, I sometimes wonder who the best rapper is. I get so BLINDED by LOVE for my FAVOURITE RAPPERS that I see them as being bests but then again if they weren’t bests they wouldn’t be amongst my favourites. I’ll make this really short and simple.
What is your bone of contention when deciding who the best rapper is?! Is it Charisma? Style? how fast he spits? how deep his lyrics is? (who really can measure the DEPTH when comparing?) how witty the flow is? his pun and punch lines? his money and success? His delivery? What exactly is the bone of contention?! When people choose the best rappers, they pick from the famous ones which means SUCCESS is a criteria when picking cause trust me THE BEST RAPPERS ARE ON THE STREETS HUNGRY FOR FAME.
Every rapper is entitled his EGO, how you see yourself really. And it is normal for every rapper to think he is the best reasonably in their songs and not really on social Medias and interviews.
However most rappers know deep down they are so FAR FROM THE BEST AND THEY ARE EVEN SCARED to say it. I’m tempted to share my own opinion on who the best rapper is or who the best rappers are but I feel I might be disrespectful. Moreover Rap Heads and Hip Hop lovers already know this. Some people are rated among the best rappers only because they are pioneers. People feel they owe them respect.

Your favorite rapper is not necessarily the best rapper. You need to close your eyes and open your ears. Being the best rapper entails a lot. A few singles, an album makes you potentially the best rapper but not the best. The best rapper MUST be successful (No excuses whatsoever, if you’re better than someone in your field of expertise, I don’t see why the person should be doing better than you in terms of success. I’m the best student in my class, my report card has to back me up and not side talks on who’s really doing it right or not).
The best rapper must be a lyricist, not just someone who rhymes thrash, but someone who is extremely intelligent, not someone who writes only on one theme but someone who visits different topics and experiences in his songs. Most importantly, someone who is consistent. Not someone who can’t even hold on to being the best for a long period of time. The best rapper doesn’t really have to be good at freestyling.

I decided never to argue who the best rapper is really although some FOOLISH TALKS and COMPARISM can push someone to the wall like why the hell will you compare 2Chainz to Kendrick Lamar (King of New York :D) or tell me M.I is whack?? The same M.I I’m listening to? (I’m sorry you pushed me).
Anyway, you can’t pick out who the best is. Every good rapper does well on every most tracks and trust me the only way you can decide who is better is by INSTINCTS (Instincts do fail at times) and another person’s instincts will oppose yours fairly any day. So except there’s a measuring equipment or God says who the best is, it all boils down to our Different Opinions. Different people with different opinions, respect that, but no doubt there are a couple of people who are the best rappers in no order and some others who are just too whack *sigh*.
There you have it, I might be disappointing people but no best rapper, it’s all different opinions and favourites.

Paolo Abamwa
@PaoloBRA_

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I am Me

I AM ME
I am me…
Joy.
What you see…
A decoy.
My destiny has things laid on a platter.
I choose me happiness for keeps.
So when you see me reel in laughter,
Know it’s cos there’s excess in my lips.

I am me…
In between.
Like a bee…
I’ve got no sting.
I’m a double edged sword.
So dangerously blunt.
I stand by my word.
An equivocal stunt.

I am me…
Pain.
I am glee…
Existing in feint.
I dissemble, dissimulate;
I shield, shelter, and shell.
While I my outward create,
I am me in my inwardly self.

I am me…
Who I choose to be.
I am me…

By Erkison Odih

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How to Love Unconditionally and Stay Sane

After two painful divorces, I learned several valuable
lessons about love and marriage that I was sharing with a
friend awhile back. You may be reluctant to take
relationship advice from someone who’s on her third
marriage, so take what I’ve learned with a grain of salt. But
I wish someone had taught me these lessons years ago.
13 Things I’ve Learned About Unconditional Love
1. Unconditional love is epic. You can’t earn it. You don’t get
to choose who receives it. It goes beyond all logic and
exceeds your ability to understand it. It just is.
2. Unconditional love doesn’t just apply to romance. While
you may love your partner unconditionally, you may also
unconditionally love your parent, your child, your best
friend, or your ex-lover.
3. Unconditional love doesn’t always make sense. You may
unconditionally love your abusive, alcoholic mother or the
brother who molested you or the husband who betrayed
you. You may have every reason on earth to hate someone,
but you love them anyway. That’s how unconditional love
works.
4. Unconditional love is boundless. By definition, there are no
conditions on unconditional love. It is a gift someone
doesn’t have to earn. It’s Divine love. It’s a form of grace.
The person you love could become a drug dealer, form a
prostitution ring, molest a child, and then kill someone –
and you might not like what they’ve done, but you will still
love them.
5. You can love the person unconditionally and still hate the
behavior. The person you love unconditionally may
disappoint you in a thousand ways. But when you love
unconditionally, you can separate the behavior from the
person, rejecting the behavior without rejecting the person.
6. Loving someone unconditionally doesn’t mean being a
doormat. Even if you love someone with this kind of epic
love, you don’t have to tolerate bad behavior. If he cheats,
it’s okay to leave. If he hits you, it’s okay to separate. If she
tears you apart every time, you don’t have to keep going
home. You can love unconditionally and still set
boundaries.
7. Unconditional love doesn’t mean staying when you’re
unhappy or unfulfilled. Sometimes we unconditionally love
a partner who isn’t meeting our needs. Maybe your partner
doesn’t feed your soul, squelches your creative potential,
and threatens to hold you back from living out your calling
and reaching for your dreams. As much as having
unconditional love for someone can enrich a relationship,
the presence of unconditional love doesn’t mean settling for
less than you truly desire in life. Sometimes it’s time to
move on – and that’s okay. It doesn’t weaken the love or
mean you’re a bad person. You can leave, and even if you
break someone’s heart, you can still love that person
unconditionally.
8. We enter into sacred contracts with those we love
unconditionally. We are here on earth with those we love
unconditionally in agreement to help each other grow. To
complete our assignments, we face challenges together.
How we navigate these challenges is part of what we’re
here on earth to learn.
9. Unconditional love relishes the individuality of another
being. When you love unconditionally, you love someone
for who they really are – not who you want them to be.
When you love someone unconditionally, you encourage
authenticity. You celebrate diversity and non-conformity,
you agree to disagree, you encourage debate, and you
don’t take it personally. You stop faking it with each other.
You give that person permission to live and speak his or
her truth, even if you don’t agree with what he or she
believes.
10. Unconditional love may not be reciprocated. Every
individual has a different capacity for opening their heart.
You may be more gifted in loving with an open heart than
the person you love unconditionally. It’s not personal. Be
grateful that you have this capacity to love, and try not to
take it personally if the person you love isn’t able to return
the epic love you have. If your love isn’t reciprocated, don’t
let it keep you from opening your heart to others. As much
as it can hurt to have your unconditional love
unreciprocated, you have to give people permission to
break your heart in order to experience the blessings of
being loved unconditionally by others.
11. Unconditional love never ends, even if the relationship is
over. By its very definition, unconditional love is not
conditional. The love can go on beyond when a relationship
ends. You can love someone unconditionally who you
haven’t seen in twenty years. Unconditional love can even
continue after the person you love dies. This kind of love
never ends.
12. Unconditional love is worth the risk. When you give your
heart away fully to someone, you assume risk. Someone
could hurt you. You’re saddled with a love that will never
end. It can be scary and painful and exhausting to love
unconditionally. But dare I say that this is the meaning of
life – to learn to love unconditionally and be loved in
return? Yes, that’s what I believe.
13. To love unconditionally is divine. When we love
unconditionally, we channel the kind of love the Divine has
for us and become vessels of healing, nurturing, and
connection.
It’s such a fine balance. One of my wise clients said, “Love
that requires you to compromise your integrity, your values,
or your healing isn’t, ultimately, love.” Or is it? Maybe
people who demand that you compromise your integrity,
your values, or your healing shouldn’t be allowed to
influence you, and if you can’t set those boundaries and still
have them in your life, perhaps you need to take a break
from them.
But is it not love? I’m not sure. I guess I think you can still
love someone who asks you to compromise. The difference
is that you don’t have to acquiesce to anyone’s demands,
even if you love them unconditionally.
Do You Love Someone Unconditionally?
Tell us your triumphs, your challenges, your feelings, and
your stories.

Unconditionally yours,
LISSA RANKIN,
MD: Founder of http://www.OwningPink.com, Pink
Medicine Revolutionary, motivational speaker, and author
of What’s Up Down There? Questions You’d Only Ask Your
Gynecologist If She Was Your Best Friend and Encaustic Art:
The Complete Guide To Creating Fine Art With Wax.

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Learning to Love unconditionally

By KC Dang
Extracted from http://www.tinybuddha.com

“The most important thing in this world is to learn to
give out love, and let it come in.” ~Morrie Schwartz
Love is a strange and beautiful thing.
I always thought I knew what love meant. I grew up
hearing the words all the time. It was on TV, in books
and magazines, and people all around were saying it.
I thought I knew how to love. I mean, I told my teddy
bear that I loved him because he kept me safe at night.
I told my sister that I loved her, only if she was nice to
me and would play the games that I wanted.
But if I didn’t get that new limited edition beanie baby,
I felt differently for my parents. If my friends at school
didn’t give me the birthday presents I wanted, I felt
differently for them.
I seemed to only love the people and things that would
give me something in return and that would allow life
to go on the way that I wanted it to.
I never truly felt love, a love that was unconditional
and all encompassing, until the day I first saw my dad
cry.
My friends always tell me that my father is the
happiest man that they’ve ever met. He greets
everyone with open arms, and his smile is so big you
can practically count all of his teeth.
The other day I came home, and my dad looked
sullen, the smile usually spread across his face
missing. He looked into my eyes and just collapsed
into my arms, sobbing.
I could feel his sadness before I even heard the tears,
from the way he put his entire body weight on me as if
he needed help just standing, and the way he gripped
me so tight like a child does with his mom on the first
day of school.
My sister had just made a rash career decision that
would leave her in a large amount of debt and
temporarily unemployed. And my dad just didn’t have
the money that she needed to help her out of her
situation.
Growing up, my dad always told us that his one
purpose in life was to give us the life that he never had.
And in his eyes, at that moment, he had failed.
You see, my parents are first generation immigrants
from Vietnam. They come from impoverished families,
both with more than 10 siblings each. Their journey to
America is almost like a fictional tale to me, something
that they rarely talk about, with my dad escaping first,
then my mom, aunt, and sister, who almost didn’t even
make it out alive.
At first, the American Dream wasn’t all that it was
made out to be. Yes, freedom rang, but so did the
challenge of learning a new language, a new culture, a
new way of making money and supporting a family.
But somehow, they did it. They raised my older sister
and put her through college. They raised my aunt, and
put her through college. They raised my twin sister and
me, and put us through college. And in the midst of all
that, they found a way to sponsor all of their own
siblings to emigrate to the land of the free.
It didn’t come easy though.
They accomplished all of this, even if it meant working
two (at times three) jobs. Even if it meant scrubbing
floors, toilets, hospitals, classrooms. Even if it meant
working all day and night and surviving on only two
hours of sleep.
Even if it meant tears and days where we all just cried
ourselves to sleep.
Growing up, my dad gave me everything I wanted. He
let me play sports, bought me nice clothes and toys, a
new car—even if he had to sneak by my mother so
that she wouldn’t get upset about how much he was
spoiling me.
But at the same time, my dad expected straight As,
and to succeed and excel in everything that I did. At
times I would get so mad at him and scream and
complain about why he made me study so much when
all of my friends were out having fun. His reply was
always, “So you don’t ever have to live a hard life like
us.”
I always wondered how my dad made it, how he and
my mom brought up three successful children and
stayed together through it all.
This year, my parents will have been married for 35
years, and to say they’ve been through a lot is an
understatement. They made sacrifices that threatened
their relationship with each other, with their brothers
and sisters, and even their own parents—all for us.
There is never a day that goes by where my dad
doesn’t tell me “I love you” before going to bed. It’s
with this unconditional love that keeps him going
strong, and that keeps him smiling every day no
matter how tough things can be.
I was blind to this until that day I saw my dad at his
most vulnerable point. Looking at him, bent over in my
arms like a little child, I realized that unconditional
love does not come easy; it is something learned and
practiced.
It is through the toughest times, the happiest times, and
every single obstacle of life that you can discover new
ways of loving.
I did that day as I held my daddy, my hero, in my
arms. I discovered just how to finally let the love come
in that my dad had been giving me for 22 years, and
not question or find a reason for it.
My dad has taught me that to love unconditionally is to
love with absolutely no boundaries. Even when it hurts,
his love is never failing; it stays limitless, never
changing.
There are times in our lives when loving someone else
seems nearly impossible because of the difficult
situations that we find ourselves in. There are times
when we say harsh things to people we love just
because things aren’t going our way, or because they
made us unhappy.
In these situations, we find ourselves putting provisions
on love. We attach it to how others are acting, and
whether they reciprocate the feelings we give to them.
We attach it to the circumstances and emotions that go
on in a single moment.
We find ourselves holding back, fearful of being hurt,
afraid to sacrifice a piece of ourselves. But what if we
looked beyond all this and just loved?
Love because you’re grateful for the things someone
has done for you. Love because someone needs you,
needs a friend to lean on during their struggles. Love
even when it is difficult, even when your mind tells you
that you shouldn’t.
Love by looking beyond people’s faults, struggles,
and whatever pain and hardships that life may bring.
This unconditional love is something that can so easily
be given if we recognize it, and that can change
someone else’s life completely.
When we love and treat each other with the utmost
care and attention, the little things that bother us seem
far less overwhelming.
What would the world be like if we stopped looking to
get something in return, and just loved unconditionally,
for the happiness and inner peace it brings us all?

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Boys sha! | Desperation For some Action

Garage! ikorodu!! Ikorodu! Garage!!

I had been standing under the rain anticipating the arrival of a danfo bus that was to convey me to my destination. It had been a particularly sunny afternoon and the rain had come down without warning. The clouds emptied their load unto the earth without pity and I with my “fine boy swag” was drenched to the bone. Without any form of protection whatsoever, I was left by the road side wondering why on earth I had embarked on this fruitless journey.

I had woken up today with a mission. Today was supposed to be the day that I was going to seal the deal with Bukky. I had been on her case for a while and things were moving along nicely. I had gone through all the phases that a young chap like me would normally encounter in the “chykin” process. We had met, she had given me the allotted quota of “serere”, she had “chopped” my money on numerous occasions, and now it was time to do the do.

“Hello B, you doing anything today? I was planning on spending some time with you, if you don’t mind. Could we meet at E! Centre?”

she had agreed and I had proceeded to bath, dress up and prepare for my date with such speed that I was sure I had broken some unofficial record for “shortest time expended in preparation for a date”. Things we men would do for some “quality time”.
Hmph!

Ikorodu! Garage!! Garage! Ikorodu!!

The conductor continued to herald at the top of his voice.

Without further ado, I began to scuffle through the other commuters that had been stranded alongside my very humble self in the dousing rain in a bid to board the bus. One thing the rain does to normal life in lagos is that transportation is brought to a near standstill leaving a large number of the populace stranded.

The pandemonium that ensued was one that could only have been imagined in a novelist’s mind. Bags flying, bodies lurching, frenzied movement, all in an effort to get on the bus. I even had someone else’s finger’s nick my skin and elbows nudge me in the face. I was shoved along with the crowd but I was determined to get on. I breezed past a dude that was in the process of haggling with the conductor and that was when I even got an idea of the fare that was needed for this trip.

“oga, I don tell you say na N100. If you no get abeg commot for road make other people enter”.

Next thing I know, I’m on the bus and sitting on the legs of a very beautiful lady. In the commotion of getting on the bus, I had jumped too far in and landed on her laps. The embarrassment began to spread across my face, but as a sure boy, I hid it well, tendered my sincerest apologies and occupied the seat right next to her.

I began to examine the injuries that I had sustained in the process of boarding the bus. Several cuts on my skin, an ache spreading through my head, my shades hanging in a crooked position atop my nose, in short I looked like I had just survived a mugging.

Poor me, I had gone through all this just for some action with Bukky? In the end, na me con be the mugu. If I had gotten what I was looking for, shey all this stress I was going through would have at least made some sense in comparison.

“Hey baby, I’m sorry I won’t be able to make it as planned. Something came up that requires my attention hope you don’t mind”.
“ahhhh Bukky, but I’m already at E! already. What would you have me do now? Infact I’m holding two cones of ice-cream. What would I do with the one I bought for you?”

She had laughed then, and now when I think of it,that last ditch effort to get her to come was pretty lame for someone who prided himself as a smooth operator. I had tried to score another date with some other female lurking around but today wasn’t just my day.

Either they were all there with someone else or they were waiting for someone else. In the end, I had given up and left.

“oga were your moni now? U no go pay me?” the
voice of the conductor snapped me out of my reverie just as the pretty lady beside me was handing over her fare to him, the lady whose laps I had been on some minutes ago.

Hmmm. Maybe all was not lost. I could still “chyk” this damsel beside me. Who knows, I probably could hit jackpot. I first proceeded to settle the issue of my fare with the conductor before I got thrown out of the bus ending my hope of some action this night.

As I turned to start the conversation there was a loud sound of crunching metal accompanied with a vibration of immeasurable proportions. Just as I was about to make sense of what had just happened, I realised that the lady I had been gearing up to talk to was leaning on me in a very awkward position. Apparently the driver had brushed pass another danfo that was slowing down to make a stop and there had been a collision involving the right side of our bus and the left side of the other.

Our driver was definitely at fault as he had been driving recklessly since the beginning of our journey, but I wasn’t going to join the other passengers in berating him. He had given me the perfect opening line for my conversation-God bless his soul.

“Are you alright miss?”

Before she could answer,we were swung from left to right to left. The driver was being really reckless and the blessing I had pronounced on him earlier, I was about to retract because instead of the lady answering me, she turned to shout at the driver too. May God punish the fool. Where was he rushing to sef? Tempers that had flared earlier as a result of the driver’s recklessness began to recede and I was now faced with another dilemma that was sure going to rival the dilemma of our world leaders seeking world peace, a new and appropriate pick-up line that wasn’t going to sound too goofy with the present situation of things.

But would you blame me? I was just in an accident and the most important thing in the world to me was how to start up a conversation with a babe. I normally wasn’t used to this kind of problem but I had been on a losing streak today starting with Bukky. A pick-up line began to light up the insides of my thinking faculty and just as I was about to use it,

BANG! BANG!! BANG!!!

We were jolted right there in our seats and I could swear my head touched the roof of the bus twice before I landed back in my seat. My pick-up line took a quick exit from my brain and in its place, the ache that I had experienced on boarding the bus returned. The idiot had driven over some grave pot-holes and neither we nor the bus were any better for it. Now I was mad and for the first time, I joined everyone else in “harangu-ing” the driver. In fact, I almost slapped him from behind if not that I remembered in the nick of time that I was given off the gentleman persona for the benefit of the lady I was trying to quip.

Now I was frowning. How bad could this day get? First Bukky and the disappointment, then more disappointment with the other ladies, then the rain, then this silly reckless driver, what could possibly come next to spoil this day further? I was so immersed in my thoughts that I almost missed the lady’s thighs rubbing against mine.

At first, I thought it was an accident but as time elapsed, I realised it wasn’t. See as God con dey butter my bread. I whispered a little thanks to whoever the “chyking” god was and I proceeded for the kill.

“na wa ooo, dis driver no go kill us today”

I said. Pretty lame considering I had spent the better part of the journey thinking and this was all I could come up with. Who cares about what I said. In my opinion, this girl was heading home with me tonight as she was the one who had set the ball rolling. Don’t worry about how much time had elapsed I still had some time before we got to our destination.

“my dear, I’m even tired of the journey sef. I think the man is drunk. How else…”.

She was cut in mid-sentence by another jolt. The fool had done it again. This time, the door of the danfo fell off its hinges and unto the road.

JESUS! JESUS!! JESUS!!!

The Lord’s name was echoed all over the bus both by the saints and sinners like me. The bus came to a stop by the road side and both driver and conductor began to retrace their steps back to get the missing door.

That was when I confirmed that the clown we had in the name of “our driver” was actually drunk. He staggered back to the spot where the door fell off and it was an uphill task to get the door back to the bus alongside the conductor. Eventually, the conductor had to do the job alone.

At that point, I burst into laughter and the laughter spread throughout the bus and in some quarters was mixed with insults at the driver. I didn’t hear the lady beside me laugh and so I paused and turned to see what was wrong. Her face was ashen with fear, and it was obvious she couldn’t see the humorous side to all that had happened. O well, now I was going to have to be the one to cheer her up.

“Majidun wa o.”

So she wasn’t headed to Ikorodu Garage. O well, I better get straight to the point.

Wait! Majidun, wasn’t that…

The driver slowed to a stop and the conductor announced

“oya majidun, come down ooo.”

Before I could even say,

“can I have your number?”

the lady skipped passed me and jumped down from the bus, the expression on her face being that of pure joy obviously at the fact that she had arrived despite the plan of her enemies from her village using the driver to make sure that she didn’t reach her destination. Just as I was about to decide if I was coming down with her, the conductor closed the door and the driver zoomed off. It then dawned on me that I hadn’t even asked the lady for her name. I blurted out a sentence that was barely above a whisper

“walahi, God go punish this driver. E no go better for am.”

I sulked all the way to Ikorodu and fortunately for the driver, there was no more drama from him even though I was somehow counting on it to unleash my fury on the drunken maniac.

By the time we got to Ikorodu, the rain had stopped and I alighted from the bus and began to make my way through the teeming crowd on my way to board a bike to my Estate. The rain had soiled the road I was walking on and my “fine boy” shoes and jeans were messed up. I began to ask myself the question of who sent me when my phone rang.

I pulled it out from my pocket and picked it up without looking at the caller ID. “Hello?” this unfortunate individual had sure caught me at a bad time. I just hoped somewhere at the corner of my mind that I wasn’t talking to either off my parents.

“Oh I’m sorry, is this a bad time?”

Bukky’s voice?

Infact, God punish the babe. After all I was in this predicament because of her.

“Yes? Any problem?”

I didn’t even bother to hide the snarl in my voice.

“I guess you are really angry with me. I was just calling to see how I could make it up to you. I finished what I was doing early and I was wondering if I could come over and see you. I would have loved it to be a surprise, but I do not have your address.”

My brain was immediately set in motion and I found myself stammering.

“Y-you w-want to come over tonight? Isn’t it late already?”

she laughed then,that sexy seductive laugh of hers.

“Well, not only do I intend to come over, I wish to spend the weekend with you if you are not too busy. It’s a Friday night, We could go clubbing and…”

I cut her off in mid-sentence.

“No. 7, Ofokaire Street, Akanke Estate. The white house with blue roof and black gate, you can’t miss it. It’s directly opposite Next Barbing saloon. If you have any difficulty finding your way, just let me know and I’d come get you.”

She laughed again and said

“ok, I’m on my way. See you soon”,

Then she hung up. A smile spread across my face and all the anger I had felt some seconds back had suddenly evaporated. I began to laugh softly when I considered all that had happened. I should have killed her through the phone but instead I had doled out my address like a fool. I laughed again as a thought struck me. What wouldn’t men do for some action? What a day this had turned out to be.

Hendrix

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Church | Midweek Service

I’m in church.

Normally, this really shouldn’t be too much of a surprise but it’s a Wednesday evening and i just came back from school…. Sememster break and all. Also, basically all the peeps i know are either in school or not around therefore considering my “boredom-ness” and also my commitment to my Christian life gets the occasional “K” leg with The not so splendid relationship i’ve had with Female acquaintances in my life leads me to believe I require spiritual intervention.

Anyway, seems I’m not the only one requiring intervention as church is pretty crowded. Naturally, old habits die hard and I can’t help but cast my “Single, fine Girl” radar round the room.

ALERT! TARGET ACQUIRED!

I can spot a lonesome cutie towards the front of the hall. I adjust what myself and head towards the empty seat next to her. Suddenly, my sessy spider senses start tingling and from the corner of my eye I spot another desperate single guy heading towards her on the opposite aisle. He catches my eye and we both give each other the once over.

We Babe Eaters…We know ourselves.

He’s well Built than me, very few might say handsome and those might even be real LV alligator platforms he’s wearing but I’ve got something he hasn’t… Swags.

Take that brother! I think as I start to power walk towards the prize.

CHAI! This seat far o, I’m starting to lose my breath and beads of sweat are beginning to collect on my dainty nose. This is not good. Not the first impression I want to give the cutie but no time to stop and get my handkerchief outta my pocket Macho man is only 2 strides behind me.

Ah ha! Macho man just stumbled over a cable. Thank you Lord for signs and wonders. This baby is mine.

Just as I come up to her row and make to sit down…the devil strikes…

“Hello, sir can you sit on this row please?” says a stern looking usher blocking my path.

Damn it! Ushers!!! Why are they always getting in my way?!

I contemplate carrying out some evasive manoeuvres and plunging myself down on my seat of choice. It’s not like she can’t forcibly remove me from the seat or can she?

I give her the once over…She looks hard, and I haven’t eaten today. So I decided not to try her and do the next best thing…LIE.

“Sorry… That’s my sister. She’s holding the seat for me.” I say, giving her my best “God fearing brother” look.

God forgive me. God forgive me. God forgive me. God forgive me. God forgive me.

Oh no! Macho man has beaten me to it.

He gives me a smug look as he comes in under the usher radar on the opposite side; sliding past other people on the row to plunk himself next to her. The hussy has already even pretended to drop his bible and now he’s giggling as she hands it back to her. The fool is not even smooth. That’s sooooo been done.

Bad bele
Wo’eva

“Are you sure that’s your sister?” Asks the usher looking quizzically at me.

Kilode?! Na you get monopoly on sisters or what?

“Seems you have to let your seat go. Girls will be Girls huh?” she says laughing.

Hissss….Komot for road my friend. Enemy of romantic progress.

I sit down on the row she indicted earlier and I’m already distressed as the girl sitting next to me, feels the need to introduce herself. I immediately pretend to be deep in prayer to avoid further conversation. To make matters worse; I’m going to be smack bang in the middle of the pastor’s line of sight. I hate being too close to the podium. I’m always scared pastors can read my thoughts and they can see the sin just radiating off my body.

Now I’ll actually have to listen instead of fantasising about what I would buy if God rewards me for paying my tithes by leaving money on the road for me to find.
The choir finally stops singing and I hear this bird-like voice saying “Hello” so I figure it’s safe to open my eyes. Highly unlikely the babe sitting next to me will engage in convo during the sermon. So, I raise my head and look up into the most mesmerizing pair of eyes I’ve ever seen.

Haaaa!!! What have I been doing in church all these months? How come I never noticed how pretty the The choir Mistress was? I really must stop sitting so far back.

She‘s talking about a special number they want to render and staring straight at me like we’re the only 2 people in the room.

Errr…I think you’ll find she’s staring into the right above your head and not you.

Shut it Brain.

Can’t you see?! This isn’t a coincidence. Everything that’s been happening has led us to this point in time when I would come face to face with my destiny.

OK you’re talking crazy now or should I say crazier than usual. Your blood sugar must be low…Eat some gum.

Sod the gum. I’m busy listening to the babe who’s going make my dreams come true.

I can hardly contain my excitement. My friend ( more like my Friend-zoned Annoying Bestie in lagos chick), goes to the same church and she did say she would be here for evening service. I look around but I don’t see her, so I decide to send her a bb message.

Me: Hey sis just had a revelation. I’ve been so blind. What I’ve been looking for has been right under my nose all this time. God was just waiting for me to make a stronger commitment to my spiritual side.

BFF: Stop bbing in church you sinner. What are you on about? What stronger commitment?

Me: Coming to mid week service.

BFF: Hisss…You’ve come to one mid-week service. Big deal. Your mates are shaving their heads and sleeping in church.

ME: Wo’eva. God has revealed my woman to me.

BFF: *Yawn* Who? The badly dressed girl you and your over-bleached Brother in asewo behavior were running to go and sit next to? You think I didn’t see you? You’re just an embarrassment. Thank God we don’t have the same last name.

ME: Pleeeeeeaassse *Eyes Rolling*. he can have her. The Choir Mistress is in a whole different league*Love Struck*

BFF: Sorry did you say the choir mistress?! That’s your God sent woman?!

ME: Yep *Big Smile*

BFF: *Surprise emoticon*

All of a sudden my bbing and the choir ministration is cut short by the sound of hysterical laughter coming from the back of the church. I can see ushers rushing over but whoever it is can’t seem to stop laughing. Next thing I know, I see my friend – Annoying Chick, practically being walked out of the church, still laughing.

Can you imagine being so frivolous in the house of God? The girl obviously has brain touch. Thank God she does have a different last name. Not sure the church council would approve of such inappropriate family members when I’m presented as the soon to be Mr. Pastor.

What could have been so funny anyway?

0

Medical School

From stratified and squamous epithelium, To nucleated erythroblasts.

I always linked old ships with masts,
Mast cells have made me recast.

Rulers, rockets, rheostats,
Thank God that’s all becoming past.

I would yawn as time strolled past,
Now it’s running very fast.

Have you seen my day’s forecast?
Class to class, then back to class.

My class cannot be outclassed:
From the first guy to the last

What of the lecturers ;
Dr. Eboh, the Physiology and MBC lecturers, Such dumb-ass
All they know is come late or worst still don’t come to class
Mehn, how do they expect us to pass!?

So we end up making plans
Plans on how to pass.
which involves being Photostating copycats.

Then, when results are broadcast,
Mehn, come and see acrobats.
Cos no feeling can outlast
Your joy, knowing you have passed.

So much joy, but in contrast
Many skies are overcast,
For among the enthusiasts
There are those who haven’t passed.

I once thought all docs had hearts,
But now I am very smart.
And it goes far beyond that:
My brain has been torn apart.
Renin? Rennin? This or that?

Who knows glucose glucostat?
ALT aint alternate.
CAT is not after a rat.
FISH is not part of breakfast,
PDA is in the heart.

You should see machines we gat
They are more than works of art.
First the kidneys, then the heart,
Now it’s bone marrow transplant.

I was a genius, so brilliant,
Now I look so ignorant.
Surgery was done by humans,
Now robots have other plans.

The future is so pregnant,
Time is never hesitant.
Soon the scalpel will depart,
Stitches insignificant.

Soon, Foetuses will choose their looks,
We’ll even do surgery on Twitter, myspace or even Facebook.

Hendrix