Day 23. 6 More Days.

Good Morning people.

Yesterday, we had our fourth guest-writer in the building, and he brought shit to our blog. So sad. Well today, the first guest-writer, the very first Hokage, is back in the building, and wishes to share some of his memories in the hidden village of Konoha (yes I watch Anime. Bite Me. Esse not you o! *runs for life*

Without much ado, let me hand over the mic (or keyboard as the case may be) to our dear @QGhaz

The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, God was sitting gracefully in his throne *takes hat off in respect to Baba, replaces it* and Obasanjo and the brain (from the cartoon series Pinky and the Brain) were somewhere in Otta cooking up another brilliant scam. All was perfect except there was no Mary Poppins singing along in the background. I had a couple of children forcefully sit around me as we all sat in an open field, enjoying the warm afternoon heat and the beautiful scenery.

I was smoking a blunt, which added a bit of clarity to my thought, never mind the fact the two kids sitting exactly in front of me looked as if they were also getting high. I had my Fela swag on, which meant that apart from the hat I was wearing, I was only putting on panties as I attempted to explain to the six and seven year old why the sky couldn’t fall, but after twenty minutes I didn’t seem to be making much of an impact. Trust me, you don’t ever want a couple of kids to give you that ‘this uncle is brainless’ look. I was clearly high, but I needed it to fight my severe depression, one that only Arsene Wenger could understand.

One of the most inquisitive of the gang boldly asked me what was it was I sucking on, and I replied as courteously as I could, “The same thing your father smoked before he beat up your mother”. I still don’t understand why he took it personal and ran away crying. Sincerely, when did it become a crime to tell the truth? I had to admit it was fun picking on small children. I was bored, as I guess you must’ve noticed, so when the postman showed up in front of me, you can only imagine how elated I was.

A scene started not far from me, and I want you to see what I saw. Now picture this: An angry mother with excessively big breasts and a crying child, shouting and jumping hysterically so that her breasts followed in the commotion. I was deaf from all the weed I was smoked so I didn’t hear a thing, I just sat still enjoying the view as my eyes stayed glued to her chest, now don’t forget I was only wearing panties, I really don’t have to explain why the woman took all the children away in disgust, the post man dropped the letter in my front without as much as a word and took off shaking his head.

I opened the letter without as much as a grain of remorse. Callously I tore open the envelope and began to read as fast as my drugged mind could let me. In an instant I broke into a sweat and quickly the effect of whatever I was smoking quickly wore of. Panic struck as I screamed “Yeepa, I am dead!”. The letter read,

“Dear Future Husband,

I have been reading a certain blog of late, Wana’s Playbook to be precise, and I particularly enjoyed the piece he wrote to his future wife. I am currently writing from Hell where me and my mother went to collect our N500 from Iya Isiaka. That woman thinks she can cheat us by dying and not pay our money for pepper… Iro Nla! No way! We must collect it.

Here is a list of things you shouldn’t do.

1. DO NOT TRY TO LEAVE: You must have deduced from the previous paragraph that my mother is a witch, I can’t say the same for myself so that I don’t scare you, hence don’t expect to meet my father alive. Somewhere along the line my father tried run away from my mother after all the kind things she did for him. Imagine! When his Oga at work was troubling him, who took care of his Oga for good? When we couldn’t pay house rent, who made the landlord terribly ill? And yet he blamed her for his extremely high BP and tried to run… Men are really terrible.

2, DO NOT COMPLAIN ABOUT MY COOKING: I won’t do much if you complain about my cooking, but I promise you’d wake up sweating every night because your dreams would involve a lot of snakes and women in black cloth.

3, DO NOT BEAT ME: I promise once again I will take you to the hospital if you ever try to beat me. Sounds somehow abi? Now as my husband, you have to learn to read in between the lines. It’s a valuable tool that would help you survive this marriage. Also you must learn non-verbal communication. Like when I give you a scornful look or any other eye notion, I wouldn’t like to take it as far as a slap at the back of your head.

4, AFRICA MAGIC vs SUPER SPORT 3: There is absolutely no contest here, you won’t want to sleep in the corridor for a week now.

5, MONEY: At the end of the month, precisely on the 30th, if you don’t come home with money for welfare, sleep wherever you can find o! Also for every night you don’t sleep at home, I’d assume there is another woman, and what I do when I assume such is brutal. Let’s just say, you’d prefer I stick my big fist up your behind than what I’d do to you.


6, I AM FAT & UGLY:  I know it’s my problem, but if you ever mention it or make the slightest inclination towards it, I’ll make you give me head and while you head is down there I’ll clasp it with my big fat thighs and suffocate you with the smell. Occasionally I could fart, depending on my mood.

Please do not try to kill yourself. The last person to try it wanted to jump of 3rd Mainland Bridge. As he jumped, a big black bird came out of nowhere and carried him to safety, he has relocated from his previous address to somewhere around Yaba Left.

Till we meet for our wedding,

Your Future Wife.”

Panic seized me as I finished reading the letter. I could not believe my eyes, fear had embraced me and bought permanent house address in my heart. I searched earnestly for a loop hole, in my desperation, it took only a few minutes. The address. I re-checked the address, it was meant for no. 8, not no. 6, I jumped for joy as I ran across the street to deliver the letter to the rightful owner, only a bad neighbor would keep other people’s property abi?


Ahhhh…. Taqwa… God save you o… Na so your own for don finish…. That’s one scary wife mehn…

That number 6 is just nasty…

Till we meet again tomorrow, Peace!

But wait, isn’t it Terdoh who stays at No. 8?