Thursday, January 14, 2010

Breach of Promise to Marry

Imagine you spend some telling time, mad money and expensive emotions on your postcard-perfect partner’s promise to marry you, and, then, they rudely run off with some wicked wretch who also lives on your street. If you knew you could take them to court for bucks and boodle, would you do it?

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

(Un)Sound Engineers

When I loud-listen to music made in America or Europe, the notes fall clear and crystalline, but homemade Hiplife, played at high decibels, distorts the Bose baseline, and ferries fart sounds through the loudspeakers. The same boom-boom blights neo-Naija music too. Why?

Is It Like That For Shop Assistants?

I dived into a convenience shop, at 10 p.m., on my way home, last night. The friendly shop assistants were counting coins by the tedious thousands at their sales stations. They told me that they had to repeat the routine morning and night, everyday. I didn’t have the heart to take my (substantial) change.

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

“Am”

Maybe it’s the currency of cyber-speak; maybe it’s lowbrow laziness. I can’t stand people who write or say “Am” when they must mean “I’m”. They’re too lead-lazy or dynamite-deaf to learn the difference in pronunciation. I hear it spoken everywhere, I see it in magazines, newspapers and on TV. “Am tired” of hearing people say “Am ...” anything. See how that repulses.

Sunday, January 10, 2010

Taxi Driver Kwasea

This one taxi driver would not go scot-free. In just 3 hours, I had been rudely road-rushed by crazy manoeuvres in double digits. He did it at Kwame Nkrumah Circle. I hounded him on Ring Road Central up to Bus Stop. As I gained on him, I shouted “Taxi driver Kwasea”. He was pained to shock, hardly expecting effluence like that. But I was gone before he could react, and all he could do was to honk hysterically.

Friday, January 8, 2010

Public Pubic Pawing

An office mate and I ‘visioned’ a vulgar vassal in black, velvet shorts vocalising on his violet celly on the avenue behind the British High Commission. In the vivid daylight at 10 a.m., and inside his shorts, the vile vole was holding a varicose bulge! By confidently looking at us, he made us rather feel ashamed.

Thursday, January 7, 2010

Five Lives

A young mother of five
Didn't want to see them alive
She administered death's drink
And immortalised her name in ink.

For an interesting note on the woman who is suspected of murdering her 5 kids, all below age 10, by poisoning, see Co-blogger Que's note here