My Dirty Boxers

Welcome to 2026, I hope it brings us all the best of our heart desires.  That familiar January gragra is in the air; the motivational quotes, the fake discipline, the spiritual enthusiasm that expires by Week Two. But relax, I’m not here to make promises. Not even to myself. I won’t be here as consistently as I should, but I also don’t plan on washing my dirty boxers this year, so by default, I’ll be here more than I was last year. Progress is progress. Let me speak in the language of the streets: “Last year was a rollercoaster.” LOL. Nonsense and Manchester City. Every year is a rollercoaster for you people, as if life ever promised to be a straight road. Even Dangote once burst into tears when Tinubu pressed his neck, so please, who are you again? Welcome to 2026. We will have fun. It will speak better things for me. I will break boundaries, test new waters, and challenge myself more. I will read more books, visit new places, and buy myself a gift every month, because nobody ...

  Not totally related but I remember we had to fly bike on our way to Demola's wedding that year with the emergency groomsman running late. (Photo credit: Art by Rex) It was February 2018; Demola was getting married and I was prepared to attend. Demola and I went to Lead City, he was based in Abuja at the time and I knew he was planning to relocate; in fact, the lady he was getting married to flew in from Canada for the wedding. Demola called me very early on Saturday (his wedding day) to ask if I’ll be his best man LOL. It wasn’t for lack of suit or swagz but I politely turned down the offer as I wouldn’t be able to stand for long through the process but I provided a solution. I called up Tunde immediately and told him to come to my house. The dude showed up about half an hour later and I ran him through my suits. In about an hour, we set out to Egbeda for the wedding, and lo and behold, Tunde met Demola for the first time and the rest is history. “Chairman”, “baba” and thre...