My Dirty Boxers

  I will never forget that night in Bayelsa, no matter how I water down the story, it was a date with the devil. (Photo credit: Google) I knew I was flirting with death if I dared stood, the noise was deafening and the bedlam that followed would leave bodies behind; nothing told me it would be my last day on earth but within my walls, I swore never to talk to any woman again, we’ll discuss how that went later in future. I was still, cans and other items hit me but I must not attempt to stand. The mayhem moved closer to the gate and I saw an opportunity to crawl out of my hiding place; I was left with bruises but I didn’t stop, I kept going but one thing struck me that I will never forget. In the midst of all the uproar, normal service was going on at another part of the guest house. Folks were still going about normal practice and as I limped on a wall, trying to catch my breath, one of the attendants was asking me what I wanted to drink, “aunty I want to live, not die” If you ...

  It was a night to forget, everything could have ended but again... I live to tell the story. (Photo credit: Google) …I heard strange languages but from my three and half week’s experience in the town, I figured they talk like they’re angry at all times; every argument or debate is always like a fight with their weed and gin inspired voices but this one time, I knew the night was about to be a long one. I was on the edge of the not so convenient wooden seat; not like I stood any chance if my worst fear came to pass but I scouted around for escape routes. The first point of drama was a slight use of English in the rants of the guy that led the rage, I heard something like “kill anybody” … TK maintained beauty in the face of all these, she didn’t bother herself and was constantly telling me to focus on our date; I pretended like I was unbothered but my body couldn’t just agree with me as I was visibly trembling, the attendant that looked a lot like a retired militant came to tak...

  It was a night to forget but I live to tell the story... (Photo credit: Google of course) I was posted to Bayelsa for NYSC, a lot was going on with me health-wise then so it was indeed a tale of the good, the bad and the ugly. While I enjoyed every bit of the escapades, there were some consequences I will not be talking about. I knew I wasn’t going to stay in the city, I needed to redeploy to Ibadan to continue the good life but the week that preceded my exit brought lots of shenanigans; there’s something about Bayelsa people and alcohol, once the “something hoooge” I’m expecting drops, I’m going to that area to erect a facility that will see to kidney and liver issues. It will pay soon, trust me on that. It was a Sunday night, I’d met the daughter of the ruler of Gbarain kingdom earlier in the day… Based on one or two conversations, she was probably feeling the nigga and was going to take me out to see a few places; my pidgin wasn’t the best but I was prepared for the experi...