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    That Dating Fact

    So I belonged to a particular singles, dating and marriage group where they have discussions or rather daily time table, so one of those days they were discussing sex.

    I saw all sorts of comments talking about dating and sex, one of such that caught my attention was that ‘every relationship has to be sexual else the meaning will be lost’, I was shocked because almost everyone agreed to it.

    Well, I simply made my own comment which states that ‘not all relationships are sexual’. I came under heavy attacks by commenters, expecially ladies, some called me ‘pretender’, ‘virgin Mary’, asking me if I would be given an award for denying something I do on a daily, one even mentioned that she just checked my profile picture and that am the type that takes sex like doctor’s prescription, how she arrived at that conclusion still beats me, as if the amount of sex one has taken in one’s lifetime is written boldly on one.

    I maintained my previous stance that NOT all relationships are sexual because mine is not, the lady told me am a bloody lier and that I shouldn’t even flatter myself, that if my man is not getting it from me he’s getting it elsewhere. I told her that wasn’t true, OK, assuming that was true how about me? does it now mean since am not giving sex in a relationship am getting it elsewhere too? She replied ‘Yes’ strongly, that am sure getting it outside if am not getting it with him, other ladies came to her support, I realized I was the only one standing.

    What then did I do? I maintained my stance and quietly exited the group. I refuse to be in a place where people’s opinions are not respected, see how they were putting it to me that am getting sex elsewhere if am not getting it with the guy am with.

    This goes to show the level of moral decadence in the society, everyone now believes that sex in a dating relationship is as vital as the air we breathe, people come on here and tell us the number of persons they’ve slept with as if there is a medal for the person with the highest body count. At the risk of sounding too holy, I still maintain that sex before marriage is wrong! No youth should come here and justify it no matter the reason you put forth, it’s incredible how it’s even supposed Christians that justify this act. Sex is not just an act, it is a spiritual encounter, you don’t want to have it with every ‘Tom, dick and harry’, let’s stop trivializing it already.

    All through my life I have walked alone, am a loner right from my childhood days, I have never walked with the crowd, that majority are doing it doesn’t make it right, even if it means walking alone with no cliches or circles do it, sin is sin no matter how white you paint it, let’s call a spade a spade and not a giant fork.


    Facebook Profile Of Chioma Nwadike

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    Congratulatory Message

    We are celebrating our very own on her new feat. Her dedication, enthusiasm and insight are really inspiring.

    A crowd may be very big, but a person like Chioma Nwadike will always stand out!

    There’s no one who has worked as hard as she has in the last years… All of us at Toricity a subsidiary of Cardinal Success wish you many years of great achievements! Congrats!




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    Happy Birthday To One Of Our Amazing Writers


    Congratulations to the most hard working contributor( Beauty with brain) we have ever worked with.

    All of us at Toricity celebrate Chioma Nwadike  and her twin brother today, our wish for your birthday include a lifetime of laughter, a passing acquaintance with life’s worries and tons of big dreams fulfilled. May all your fantasies become reality because you are so worthy.

    Happy birthday our Model

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    IJE M (My Journey) Part 2.

    This is the continuation and final episode of the story I started yesterday in memory of my late legend Chinua Achebe. For you to enjoy it, do go back and read the Part 1 if you missed it.

    … Eight market days after Nwanyimma sold my sisters, Mazi asked me to accompany him to Eke Umuoru to buy palmwine for his in-laws. I was scared that he was going to sell me too. So when we got to Amaokpala, I ran into a nearby bush through the footpaths leading to odor river. It was dry season so I managed to cross the shallow river and found my way through the dark forest till I got to Akama a neighbouring town. It seemed to be their market day as I could see men carrying palm wine and yams on their bicycles while their women had baskets filled with wares of different kinds elegantly balanced on their heads.

    They all headed in the same direction. With nowhere in mind to go, I followed their train. When I got to Afor Akama, I saw a woman that looked so much like my late mother, her round face and big breasts reminded me so much of her. She had ejula displayed on her wooden agbada. I walked up to her and narrated my story. She had pity on me, took me home at the close of market and gave me food. I stayed with her for three days, there was no sign of children or husband. When I saw the round heap of mother earth located close to the yam barn, I concluded that she was a childless widow. On the next afor market day, she brought me to the market and sent me home back to my father’s house.

    (It was already morning, and visibility was clearer when we got to Ishingwu, the closest village to Amaudala. I saw children of my age going to the farm with their fathers, their small hoes slung over their shoulders. Palm wine tappers were returning with their fresh morning sap, while some lucky hunters were smiling home with the unlucky animals caught by their traps. The road had become busy, Mazi was happily exchanging greetings with people. I was sober, I was moody, I wasn’t just happy. I wish we could just get to Amaudala so I will be assured that our journey is what it is, and not another plot by him to sell me off to the white man.

    When we got to Mission School Ishingwu; the school built by the Irish Missionaries, Mazi told me to go through the school field, saying that if we could cross the bush path behind the school building, it will connect us directly to Achina and then we have just few distance to cover and we are in Amaudala.

    My fears returned. I was skeptical but there was nothing I could do because rather than walk behind me, Mazi has been walking by my side since we crossed the Ishingwu shrine of Ogwugwu deity. Maybe he wanted to be closer to avoid me escaping him again like the last time. The bush path behind the school was thick and dense with trees and shrubs. It was fearfully quiet, with occasional chirping by insects and chants of bird.

    Out of nowhere, two men emerged in front of us, talking to themselves while walking towards us. I looked at Mazi to register my fears only to realise woefully that he too was looking at me, with his right hand positioned tactfully around my neck. I knew the game was up. Before I could let go of the chair and bag, the men were already on me. My next escape move from the other direction was terminated by the fierce kick I received from Mazi around my groin region. I fell and shouted in serious pain, I was crying and wailing, kicking my feet in every direction, trying to fight my way out from the men who were already holding me back to the ground, preparing their ropes to tie my hands and feet.
    I saw Mazi retreat, picking up his bag and chair and making his way home. I cried out to him, shouting louder than before, begging him not to leave me. “Mazi please come back, don’t sell me please, remember I am your brother, don’t allow them take me away” … He didn’t even look back, he kept on going till his figure faded out of my sight. I could see him no more…

    I kept on crying and kicking, calling Mazi to come to my rescue when that hot slap from Nwanyimma brought me back to reality).

    I jumped up from the raffia mat on which I slept only to find out that I have been dreaming all along.

    “Look at the time and you are still sleeping. Get up and sweep the obi. Remember to go to iyienu the village stream to fetch water and fill those calabashes in the kitchen. When you are done, rush over your meal as Mazi is already waiting for you to accompany him to Amaudala” … She concluded and left my hut.

    On my way back from iyienu that morning, I struck my left foot against a tree stump and almost fell down but my chi was kind enough to save me. When all was set, we left for Amaudala; myself, Mazi, Ichie Okwuọgọ and Ọzọ Anukaifufe. The two men had their boys of my age with them as well. As we journeyed along, I found out that they were Ekweọzọ and Obidike, and their story wasn’t any different from mine.

    Whether or not the three of us will return from that trip remains an exclusive knowledge of the gods.

    My name is Iroeshika, this is my story

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    IJE M (My journey)

    IJE M (My journey).

    A fictional short story by Ubaka Chijioke, dedicated to Late Chinua Achebe as he marks his 87th birthday today.

    The thunderous slap from my step brother’s wife Nwanyimma that early harmattan morning brought me back to the realities and vagaries of my rather unfortunate life.

    My name is Iroeshika Okoronkwo. I was born into a large polygamous family of one man, five wives and over thirty children. My late father, Okoronkwo Ezeanokete was a renowned farmer well known in the entire village and beyond. Record has it that my father remained unbeaten as the village ‘di ji’ for a long period of fifteen years. The di ji title is conferred on any man who presented the biggest yam in the entire village and this is done every year at the festival of Ihejioku. My father was also a palm wine tapper, the best within the entire village of Umuoriaha. Before his death, his tapping expertise extended to the neighbouring villages of Amaifeke, Umucheke, Amaokwe and Umuahaba.

    I grew up in the pre independence era of Nigeria, when all a man was worth is how thick and stuffed his barns are with yams and cocoyams, how many wives and children he had, as well as how many feathers he had on his cap which signifies the number of titles he has. Suffice it to say that my father was rated a successful man by these standards.

    My late mother Ugomma was the last of my father’s wives. I was told that my father married her at his old age when his sights were already failing him and his manly strengths a memory of what it used to be. My father died when I was an infant, in my second month precisely. I can’t tell what he looked like. The much I know and say about him are just what I get from people’s stories.

    By the time I was three years old, Mazi Ugwuoke the first son of my father’s first wife Ucheime was already married with two children. Emeka his second child was same age as me when my mother died four years after my father. Mazi as we call him, who was supposed to be a brother to me, now became a father figure in my life.

    Mazi had informed me the previous night that I will follow him to Amaudala early the next morning for a very important meeting of the ọzọ title holders. This should be the third consecutive time he is inviting me to such outings in the last four market weeks. Tradition demands that when an ọzọ titled man is going for a function, the youngest boy in the house has to accompany him while carrying his animal skin bag and folded wooden back-chair. It is unfortunate I didn’t do it for my own father.

    (We set out at the first cock crow, at a time when one could barely see the face of other people on the road. We passed through the lonely uzoiyi path branching off the ezekoro forest. Because it was dry season, it was easy for us to waddle past the shallow nwangene river and emerged unto the only road connecting Amaifeke and Isieke the hometown of Ogbukiyi the great dibia.

    I was in front with his raffia bag slinging down my lean shoulders, my two aching hands firmly supporting his wooden chair on my head.

    Nwanyimma had shaved off all my hair the day before, and used uli to make some paintings on my bare skull. She also made a new obonte for me to wear, saying that it was an important event so I had to look special. At each step of the journey, I could see Mazi through the corner of my eyes furiously trailing me, walking faster than his old age could carry him. The look in his eyes were frightening, but what scared me the most was that even though I am of the same age with Emeka his son, he will never call Emeka for such outings. Why does he always prefer me?)

    I still remember vividly how Mgbafor and Ukwuoma my two elder sisters followed Nwanyimma his wife to the market and never returned. This happened one year after my mother died, I could barely tell my left from my right then. I cried bitterly when I didn’t see them return and nobody was ready to tell me what happened to them. All Mazi could tell me was that ‘Someday, I will be with them again’. It was later that I heard from a neighbour how she sold them to the white man in exchange for mirror and some pieces of stock fish…

    … To be continued

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    Be That Game Changer

    I heard some ladies say they dropped a business idea, plan or dream because according to them, a lot of people are already into it, like really? I laugh when I hear that. So because a lot of people are into the business you dump your dream? Your plan? Something you have always wanted to do? You are not serious!

    Would you say because a lot of people are making money so you won’t make? Sometimes we use our hands to kill that dream, that passion that will forever put food on our tables and give us lasting fulfillment.

    You have a passion for hairdressing, but you think everyone is a hairdresser naw so no need again, you wanna be a makeup artist but everyone is learning the act of makeup artistry on YouTube so you dumped the idea, I know graduates making a living off it, I have friends here who inspire me with what they do, you have a passion for sewing, but because you feel everyone has a sewing machine at home you won’t pursue what makes you happy?

    Look here, I see business as the sky, if all the birds of the air decides to come out one day and fly, I bet you none of them will collide because there is definitely enough space for them all. Same thing with business, no matter how saturated you think that particular market is, the ‘sky’ is definitely very wide for all to fly.

    I was opportune to live with my aunt in Onitsha, she deals in suits for both male and female, if you are conversant with how big markets like Onitsha main market are arranged you’ll notice that every business have a ‘Line’, when you go to a particular line you see different shops selling the same items on that line, my aunty’s shop is down down the line but guess what? Everyone in that line makes sales at the end of the day, that is business. Look very well and be creative and innovative, there has got to be something those in that industry or market are not doing rightly, go in to ‘right’ the ‘wrongs’, there is an untapped area, go in to be a game changer, go in to be the best you can ever be, package yourself and brand. Most importantly know why you’re doing it, if you are going into it with the mind to #PepperThem I bet you will soon pack up, do it because you really want to. If I wake up tomorrow and decide that i’ve got passion for sewing or shoe making I won’t look at your faces, i’ll do what I gotta do. Get up and do it! Do something!‎


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    RIPPLES- I wish I had seen the future

    I wish I had seen the future

    Maybe I would have acted differently,

    Maybe I would have checkmated my greed,

    And rather fight for the greater good,

    Maybe I wouldn’t have planted seeds of discord

    But helped strengthen this cord that binds us together

    Maybe I wouldn’t have orchestrated my symphony

    And like a cruel dance instructor expect everyone to dance to its harmony

    Maybe I would have practiced what I preached

    The love of God, your soul’s greatest need

    But instead I cunningly stripped your land of its resources while asked you to close your eyes in prayer

    I gave you the bible with one hand and took your gold with the other

    I released the chains from your hands

    And made you fasten them around your mind

    See, I didn’t need to chase you around with whips anymore

    I just gave you independent slavery and let you do that by yourselves forever more

    I was the one who stole but you rewarded the silent

    The very valiant amongst you with the wrong tools I did silent

    I paid but a stipend for the gains I stripped from you and yes they were priceless

    I was the master thief cos I deceived you into getting your home

    But you gave me the key, yes you did

    It was your selfishness accompanied by my greed

    We blended so easily until we made a smoothie

    That only I could drink


    I wish I had seen the future

    Maybe I would have gotten off my back

    And face what lies ahead

    Rather than act like a lazy Dog that can’t bite but is just good with a bark

    Maybe I would have sprung up instead

    And girdle up for the sacrifice that awaits me just beyond the fog

    Maybe I would have sought saner ways to heal my land of its very plague

    Than engage in a senseless coup and unknowingly set the stage

    For unreasonable counter coup, years down the line this boiling pot is yet to get cool

    Maybe the deaths of over two million in the civil war could have been prevented

    If only I knew how far reaching my actions can cause a stir

    And how much our humanity can easily be neglected

    Maybe heaven wouldn’t have been polluted

    With the stench of carcasses and the tearful prayer of saints

    Substituting the sweet smelling savor of a beautiful world I paint

    (In my mind)

    Of world renowned persona’s, record breakers, pace setters,

    Who out runs the bolts even as sprinters,

    They had a dream and like every King

    Our inhumanity denied them the cozy feeling of winter (I wonder)

    Did we kill the cure for HIV and Cancer?

    Along with the children that die daily of Kwashiorkor and hunger (I need an answer)

    If we had seen the future

    Would we have saved a little extra knowing the pleasures of a boom

    Can easily be intercepted by a bigger doom (but no)

    The sky was just too large and then the stage was set for a continuum

    Of fraud, electoral injustice, slander, nepotism, tribalism, jungle justice,

    Terrorism, greed, insecurity and corruption (and in all this years)

    We kept put our attitude of laissez faire (you know), I don’t care (you know)

    As long as I manage to stay above water and can still get some air

    But truthfully, look how far we have faired

    For the fear that the flames we helped kindle will not flare



    I wish we can see the future

    Maybe we would sit down and ponder

    We are no different after all

    Maybe the territories we hope to conquer are just mere markings on the ground

    Maybe for a minute we would forget where we are from, (our tribe)

    And chart course for where we are going, (our pride)

    Maybe the core in every one of us will be let loose

    And in future our children will learn what we did; we’d be heroes in their books

    Maybe they don’t have to refugees

    Homeless (displaced), hopeless (misplaced)

    Priorities will take us there

    Where it wouldn’t matter whose right or who’s wrong

    In that day, there would neither be King nor Kong

    How much can I beat this gong?

    We can’t run from it anymore, we can’t beat it

    Cos if we had gone the right ways initially

    There would have been no need for IDP’s

    So get up and stop being the hero only in your DP

    Social media activists, and yet our greatest bane is inactivity

    You tweet how much you can save the world

    And in your browser, in a tab you’ve got your details

    You’re booking a flight, just in case there is a fight

    Please where are the heroes

    Can we see the knight?

    And their shining body armor

    See, war doesn’t determine who is right, but who is left

    It’s not the fairy tale we see in movies

    There is no last chance to call your wife and pour out your feelings

    Plus there’ll be no network

    Only screams of another dead body that just hit the ground

    For no one will sow and thus nothing will grow

    And we head back into the same pattern, same routine

    And tagging along is the master thief (remember that guy)

    But this time we will readily give him the key for a pack of relief

    They’d sell us ammunition and give us stipends as donation,

    Don’t forget that in this time they will be our only source of communication

    Mind you our children will have no nation

    Stripped off their very identity

    We would try to explain why we did it

    Bla bla bla everything we say will sound so stupid

    Cos the same idea we are ready to die for

    Would be irrelevant when there is nothing to live for


    If only we can see the future

    Maybe we would heed the words of Asa,

    One day the rivers will overflow and there’ll be nowhere for us to go

    And we will run and run wishing we had put out the fire

    This life is just a ripple

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    What to watch TV update

    What to watch TV update

    So much has happened since my last post here, the biggest of which is the premier of season eight of “Shameless” and “The Walking Dead” and also the end of that absolutely brilliant first season of “The Deuce”.

    I am going to be running down a few TV show to get into and also to look forward to, in other words I’m going to be your guide in the world of fake knives, real ketchup and cardboard cut-throats in this golden age of TV, if you’d let me.


    What to Binge:

    1. Future Man.

    future man

    Time travel always works. Sci-fi comedy, not always.The Orville took a shot at this genre but didn’t quite hit the mark. Though still a decent show to me(I’m actually hooked). Future Man follows a young man who beats a video the whole world gave up on only to discover it was actually a training simulation sent back in time to find the savour for humanity in resistance war against the Biotics in the future. Though a little predictable,”Ridiculously thrilling” is my verdict for this bro-comedy.


    2. Alias Grace

    alias grace

    Author, Margret Atwood seems to be on a winning streak. After the massive success of the TV series adaptation of her novel “The handmaid’s tale”, another adaptation of another book by her has also garnered raves from critics and audiences alike. It follows a poor Irish immigrant and domestic servant in Upper Canada who is accused and convicted of the 1843 murder of her employer and his housekeeper.


    3. Mindhunter


    Here we see a recreation of how the term “Serial Killer” was coined. This show takes us into the mind of the most fucked up serial killers and tries to discover what makes them do what they do. With a stunning cast delivering impeccable performances it’s hard not to get hooked to this one.


    What to look forward to:

    The Punisher finally becomes available today. Friday 17th November. With positive reviews it has been described as extremely violent and bloody, just how we love em. Also premiering on the 1st of December is the fifth season of Agents of Shield.

    The cast have said that this season is full of action and we can’t wait to see it. And for the “Vikings” fans, the Nordic history series returns to History channel November 29th.


    Current running:

    Shameless returned with more hilarious episodes and we can’t wait to see how the rest of the season plays out. Frank seemed to have turned a new leaf and everyone is wondering how long it’s going to last.

    I think all his instincts which he has been suppressing would be unleashed on this new character who is going to rattle the Gallaghers for stealing his Meth(the one Monica left them). Outlander is slowly losing me, the show seems to be suffering from the lack of a particular focus the past two seasons had.

    The walking dead still rules, though it has been reduced to a badly written show with mediocre unrealistic action sequences. Mr Robot delivered it’s strongest episode yet which I’m not completely over yet.

    The underrated “The last man on earth” is still going strong. You’re the worst and Broad city continues to rule Wednesday night comedy. Finally, Star Trek: Discovery totally exceeded my expectations with the first half of its first season.

    That’s all for now, till my next post.

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    Sexual Urge

    Let’s talk about this. Sexual urge also known as ‘konji’ is a crucial issue indeed amongst singles today, the issue of sexual urges is presently present in every relationship both godly and ungodly, how the people in both groups now handle the urges is what matters.

    God created us humans, He invented sex too, and sexual urge is inherent in every functional sexually healthy human being. Sexual urge in relationships, expecially the Christian one can be tamed/restrained, yes! but we need the help of God to do it, the Bible says the love of Christ constrains us.

    As a young person courting, sexual urges comes up at any time, expecially when you are with the one you love, now let’s be frank and plain here, two persons in a courting relationship that love each other dearly will always desire each other, I heard some lady say that her partner isn’t God-fearing simply because he had an erection when he was around her, can you just imagine? My dear, that’s how the Lord created him, in fact quote me anywhere, I repeat, if as a young lady, your partner doesn’t feel sexually attracted to you when you both are together, if he doesn’t struggle with holding himself when with you, something is wrong with him medically or otherwise yes! Same thing applies to the ladies too.

    The urge is always there to touch, caress or even consummate your love for your partner, but then as a believer that’s where the restraining power of the Holy spirit comes in, you hold yourself and remember the Bible injunction of no-sex-before-marriage, you remember the guilt you that’ll ‘kill’ you if you do it(for those who have working consciences), the love of Christ in you and above all you have the desire to do it at the right time with your partner, so you both will keep your marriage bed undefiled!

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    When I woke up this morning, I felt strong, hale and hearty. It had been a rewarding 3 hours nap from 3am to 6:02am. It is short right? Don’t worry I got used to it during my service year. Don’t bother asking me what kept me up all night. Is it not that Npower website, so much traffic during the day, I had to keep vigil on its behalf. Not funny shaa. Anyway as I was saying, I felt everything but happy. I was sad, I don’t just know why. Okay maybe because even after keeping awake almost all night for something important, the aim was still defeated.

    And then it started coming, signs of rain. The weather changed instantly, blueish cloudy sky took over from the bright morning atmosphere. Rain was about to come, and from every indication, it will be a heavy rain. I hate rains… Not in the real sense of hating, but believe me, whenever it is about to disrupt my already planned day, I hate it with passion. I needed to run a quick photocopy somewhere outside the estate, I needed also to see someone down at Computer Village Ikeja, and at 1pm, prospective employer would want to see me at Domino Pizza, all these things today, and the rain chose to come at this time. I cursed under my breathe.

    Bike! I flagged down an elderly Hausa okada man, a familiar face around the estate. He must have picked me up once or twice in the past, I can’t be too sure anyway. There were so many of them this morning, under the heavy rain, hustling for daily bread. The country too hard ooo, I secretly remarked. “Oga where you dey go?” He enquired in the Nigerian pidgin accent. “Sawmill side Oga, just immediately after Afrimed specialist hospital”, I said almost out of breath. The rain was really heavy. I didn’t wait to hear the hundred naira he was telling me. That was the price actually, I was so happy he didn’t even increase it because of the rain. I boarded, and the journey began.

    My phone started ringing, it was him, the man I was supposed to see at Ikeja. I didn’t want to lie again, I have done that a lot today. I didn’t pick. I had to beg the bike man to increase his speed a little. “No dey rush me Oga, haba. Ip na ply you wan ply, gwo henter heroflane”……. He retorted. He said so many things and was still saying, I heard some, I was hearing even though I wasn’t listening. All I want is to get to sawmill ASAP and get done.

    He literally maintained his speed, just a slight increment. I was happy shaa. We passed GV Lounge, and was now close to Twin Dash Kiddies day care. I saw the vehicle, a black Lexus 330 SUV with tinted glasses. The driver, a lady, was obviously distracted by something. Maybe she just quarreled with the husband, or boyfriend I can’t be so sure. Or maybe a client has disappointed her yet again, trust all these allied workers and their wahala. Anyway, whichever one it was, she was really troubled judging by the look on her face and her reckless attitude on the wheels. I was afraid. I needed to warn my driver, but Oh God, I remember the last time I talked to him, he wasn’t too generous with nice words in his reply. The state of the nation is really taking its toll on all of us, I don’t even blame the poor man. But I had to warn him still, I didn’t just know how to.

    As we took the next turn after Deeper life Church national headquarters, shortly before FCMB Gbagada, it happened. In a twinkle of an eye, I was off the bike, I can’t tell how. I couldn’t see the bike, neither could I place the whereabout of the bike man. My documents nko? I could see them floating freely on the air, same way the crispy naira mints flow at an Igbo man’s wedding, especially those business guys based at Onitsha. At that instant, I wasn’t feeling anything, only my head just hurt a little. Guess I hit it against the tarmac. I didn’t just know what happened, but I know that my life may not remain the safe afterwards.

    Somewhere across the other side of the road, I could see her from the corner of my left eye, the Lady in the Lexus. She was crying, or weeping I guess. She was banging on her bonnet, cursing someone, maybe me or the bike man, or someone else. I can’t just tell. The Lexus SUV was crashed against an electric pole, the left headlamp bashed beyond repair. The side mirror of the drivers side was also affected, very badly, and the windscreen had a terrible shattering line across it… This is serious, I thought to myself. Did anyone die? Will I survive this? What caused the accident? I asked nobody in particular, I am not even sure anyone heard me.

    I could faintly hear people saying “Thank God nobody died… God just saved this lady… Chai, this poor fine boy…So many mutterings I couldn’t hear very well.

    Someone was searching my pockets, another was asking me some incoherent and inaudible questions… I could barely hear her. What’s your name sir? Where are you from? Are you hurt? How do you feel? Do you have relatives here in Lagos? Too many questions, and I guess the processing speed of my brain was affected too, I could barely mutter an audible response.

    Finally the one searching my pockets saw my wallet and drew out my ID. The lady started calling my name… Chijioke! Chijioke are you there? Can you hear me? She was calling and knocking on something, maybe door or anything close by. I could hear her, I could hear the knock though very faintly.

    Are you not in there? She was almost shouting now and has graduated from knocking on the door to banging. It was louder now, and I could hear her clearer… It was my landlady…”Chijioke come and remove your brother’s clothes from the line, the rain is heavy and may pull them down”, she said finally with a loud voice and shit!!! I jumped up.

    I had fallen asleep on the couch while waiting for the rain to stop…

    The time was 08:06am and my day just got started.

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