RE: Memo to the Nigerian Street by Pius Adesanmi & the mataz at hand by ‘Lakunle Jaiyesimi

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Dr. Bukola Saraki…going…going…g…o….

“Listen to Nigerian leaders and you will frequently hear the phrase, “this great country of ours.” Nigeria is not a great country. It is one of the most disorderly nations in the world. It is one of the most corrupt, insensitive, inefficient places under the sun. It is one of the most expensive countries and one of those that give least value for money. It is dirty, callous, noisy, ostentatious, dishonest, and vulgar. In short, it is among
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RE: Memo to the Nigerian Street by Pius Adesanmi & the mataz at hand by ‘Lakunle Jaiyesimi

image

Dr. Bukola Saraki…going…going…g…o….

“Listen to Nigerian leaders and you will frequently hear the phrase, “this great country of ours.” Nigeria is not a great country. It is one of the most disorderly nations in the world. It is one of the most corrupt, insensitive, inefficient places under the sun. It is one of the most expensive countries and one of those that give least value for money. It is dirty, callous, noisy, ostentatious, dishonest, and vulgar. In short, it is among
Continue reading

LADIES: WHERE THE POWER LIES by Monsieur Mobutu

lAkUnLeScReWs

pottates

The place of women is in the kitchen.

The world is confused. While the men have become weaklings, many content with waking up to bottles of drinks; the women have realized that there’s a power beyond them, or that has been hidden from them for so long, and they are doing all they can to reach for it. Everytime and everywhere, you hear about women emancipation, gender equity and in fact ‘women first’. However, when a snake appears, the men must go first.

When the robbers bang at the door, the men must take the lead. And foolishly, many men would always say ‘YES’ to whatever the women say, however confused they may perpetually be even at their own detriment.

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The Miracle of Fear By Bode Asiyanbi

(Originally published on Lawino’s Magazine)

 

Rasaki knew something had gone wrong as he ejaculated but what exactly, he could not place. Was it the grandfather clock that chimed eight times at one o’clock, or the thunder that cracked the midnight air as the first spurts eased out? Was it the strange bird that began chirping on the silence of the night? He stared at his wilted member. He had jerked out too late. This withdrawal thing Osas suggested was not for him. It was like eating underdone rice.

“What…?” his wife said. “I’m safe…”

Her sweat-drenched breasts heaved in protest as he pulled away from her delirious grip. He did not respond. He faced the cracking wall of their one-room home, his face wrapped in a puzzle. It was not just about the niggling apprehension of pregnancy or the interrupted orgasm, he just did not like how he came. READ MORE