Last Entry for 2008

Was this a christmas gift or blogger just got its act back together again?

Well, My blog edit panel is back on so I dont have to use html to post pics and write ups again!

Well...this will be my last entry for 2008 so see y'all in 2009!

Oh...when I get back I'll answer all the arrears...Kin'shar! Whoever on earth gave you the name 'Oyin'?

I can't wait for January 1st, things are gonna start happening!!

11 Screamer(s):

Nigerian Curiosity - A Blog Worth Checking Out

When I clicked the link, I did it out of curiosity; curiosity as to the name of the blog in question. And indeed I wasn’t disappointed at what I saw. That instant I knew I had to review this blog.

I was surprised to even discover that the blog was managed by Solomonsydelle.
Never did I envision that she had such a site that was rich in social commentary on Nigerian issues. The site in question is Nigerian Curiosity.

The blog has the potential to impact beyond blogosphere; I’m talking of it becoming a point of reference in social circles. Apart from its layout simplicity and arresting masthead, Nigerian Curiosity is a blog that is richly informative on topical issues on Nigeria. This is a strong aspect of the blog because it’s a focused one and makes clear to the reader its objective.

The blog carries with it an air of solidarity in its various content; we see the blog’s part in the protest for the release of a detained Nigerian blogger, Jonathan Elendu. There is also the seriousness of safeguarding the blog’s originality in terms of guarding against plagiarism. I call this blog a ‘no-nonsense blog’ because of its downright tone of being dead serious. I have seen quite very few blogs that carry such tags that state “This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.”
It probably means this is a blog that could hit you beyond the internet if you tried any hanky panky plagiarism.

For any Nigerian based out of the country who has lost touch with the happenings in the country, this blog is a good place to visit to update yourself on the goings-on in Nigeria. The information is so accurate and detailed that I’m so convinced Solomonsydelle must either be an experienced journalist or a good researcher who is in someway connected to sources that supply her with such rich info.

Nigerian Curiosity is an outstanding blog and presently ranks Number 30 on Afrigator’s list of top African blogs. Going through the blog I also discovered that it has a rapid updating record; the delay between each post is very minimal. This indicates that the blog always has fresh information. It’s either that Solomonsydelle blogs for a living or just has that unique habit of keeping up to date with the latest info.

The blog is so rich that it qualifies as a reference material for any person or student doing a research or term paper on any topic that has to do with Nigeria.
I came across this fascinating blog last week and just couldn’t resist doing a review about it. It might be seen as a collection of musings by the blog owner but it’s equally a good example of what a social commentary blog should look like.

Rating for Nigerian Curiosity

I'm digging it!

21 Screamer(s):

If your Blog was rated like a Movie...

I happened to be surfing the web when I came across a site that gave ratings to blogs like we have it in the movies. Out of curiousty I posted my blog's url and got a rating. I tried other blogs, especially those with 'risque' content and found the ratings questionable. Apparently the site rates through the use of words and not through the use of pictures. Here are some sites that I tested on the site. Sorry if yours isn't featured. I could only do a few.

Kinsharr's Blog
OnePlusYou Quizzes and Widgets

Black James bond's Blog
OnePlusYou Quizzes and Widgets

The Parakeet's Blog
OnePlusYou Quizzes and Widgets

Aloofar's Blog

OnePlusYou Quizzes and Widgets

Afrobabe's Blog
OnePlusYou Quizzes and Widgets

Vera's Blog
OnePlusYou Quizzes and Widgets

RisqueDiva's Blog
OnePlusYou Quizzes and Widgets

NigerianDramaQueen's Blog
OnePlusYou Quizzes and Widgets

Buttercup & Charizard's Blog
OnePlusYou Quizzes and Widgets

Standtall's Blog
OnePlusYou Quizzes and Widgets

Ibiluv's Blog
OnePlusYou Quizzes and Widgets

Oluwadee's Blog
OnePlusYou Quizzes and Widgets

Princesa's Blog
OnePlusYou Quizzes and Widgets

Emeka Amakeze's Blog
OnePlusYou Quizzes and Widgets

Rayo's Blog
OnePlusYou Quizzes and Widgets

Tina's Blog
OnePlusYou Quizzes and Widgets

Poeticallytinted's Blog
OnePlusYou Quizzes and Widgets

And here is the rating for my own blog!!
OnePlusYou Quizzes and Widgets

I guess the rating may not be accurate because when you visit blogs like Afrobabe's there are a lot of X-rated pictures there but the rating allows general audience (LOL!) but RisqueDiva's site did not get away with it because there was enuff dirty talk featured on her blog.

And I still don't understand why mine got this restricted rating! Honestly, is my blog really a bit offensive in anyway?
Gimme your views abeg.

You can check out the site'and rate your blog here

30 Screamer(s):

MOVIE REVIEW - Letters To a Stranger

This movie review was done by a special request from Omosewa.I promised her I'd do one and I always try to keep my promises.

Starring: Fred Amata, Genevieve Nnaji, Femi Blaq, Ibinabo Fiberesima, Joke Silva, Eucharia Anunobi, Elvina Ibru
Written by Victor Sanchez Aghahowa
Directed by Fred Amata

The Story centres on Jemima, a working class lady who has a peculiar hobby of keeping a diary which is addressed to a non-existent stranger.
Through a wrong number dial on her phone, she eventually meets a real stranger (played by Femi Blaq) and they become phone buddies. Meanwhile, her supposed fiancé, Frederick (Played by Fred Amata), is not handling their relationship well and his negligence drives her to confide more in her stranger friend.
They eventually meet and things begin to happen as the inconsistency of Fred drives Jemima closer to her stranger friend, Sadiq.
Complications arise when it turns out Sadiq and Fred know each other and when she finds out she loves both men but one must go for the other.

The story is simple and has the theme that most Nollywood movies would show in their films but this movie stands out in its own unique way which one cannot ignore.
From the dialogue sequences to the lighting effects, camera work and post production, the movie expresses the work of improved professionalism in the Nigerian film industry.

A lot of Nollywood movies are known for showcasing stories with cheesy and unrealistic dialogues, their saving grace being prolific actors who would usually add their own flair to it. Letters to a Stranger is a departure from this norm. The script was good; from the delivery of the actors you could tell that it was meticulously done. I give it up to Victor Sanchez Aghahowa who wrote the script. Unlike some other Nollywood movies, the movie avoids senseless and unnecessary dialogue. You are kept on point with the conversation and there’s no how you get to miss out on it or get bored by it.
Apart from just very few glitches, most of the dialogue delivered were realistic and reminiscent of how it’s done in Hollywood blockbusters. Because of this the movie makers were able to create some good suspense through the dramatic and emotional dialogues between the actors.

A lot of the camera work and angles were quite impressive. The lighting was good and not exaggerated. There was a consistency all through it that gave the movie its own feeling of warmth and emotion. There is so much impact you can create on a movie through the lighting. Post production did some impressive job with effects like the slow-motion shots and the accompanying sound effect.

I was overjoyed when I noticed that the movie had a soundtrack that didn’t practically tell you the whole story. The soundtrack along with other sound effects were brilliantly arranged. It further encouraged my rating for the movie.
The transitions from scene to scene was fluid and blended so well that timeliness was well achieved and the movie did not attempt to waste the viewer’s time.

The Actors were not disappointing. I found Yemi Blaq’s performance very impressive and realistic. He fitted so well into his role such that you don’t see Yemi Balq, rather you see Sadiq, the compassionate stranger.
Genevieve Nnaji still proved the screen queen that she is. As Jemima, she handled the barrage of conflicting emotions so well that I’d recommend her for a Hollywood performance any day.
Elvina Ibru surprised me. She was the movie’s comic relief and she did a damn good job of it. Her antics as Tare, Jemima’s sanguine and outrageous roommate were so hilarious and real you would have thought she wasn’t acting but just catching her fun.

Fred Amata didn’t really do it well for me as Frederick the fiancé. He was a bit plastic though he still managed to carry his role effectively to the end.
I was surprised that other minor roles were handled by big actors and actresses like Eucharia Anunobi, Joke Silva, Segun Arinze so well too. Eucharia especially was a natural in her powerful in delivery of her role as Jemima’s boss.

It would be unfair to say there weren’t a number of flaws or overlooked areas in the movie. As usual in most Nigerian movies, audio quality has always been a challenge. Letters to a Stranger fell victim to this as well. There were instances where some actors’ voices were louder than others. There was also the case of uncontrolled background noise which stole the emotional importance of the dialogue between Jemima and Fred in the scene where he was about to take her to the airport.

The Phone conversation audios were not well edited. In scenes where the person on the other end of the phone was out of view, the sound was not telephonic but rather as if the person was in the same room as the caller or receiver. Such an oversight could kill the realistic feel of the moment unless it’s a scene in which the screen is split to show callers on both sides at the same time.

The dream scene in which Tare dreams of her favorite star, Dbanj about to kiss her was a hilarious scene but was not well executed and as a result lost the humour which would have been priceless.

The movie’s title is unique and very different from the usual funny titling of your regular Nigerian movie but it sort of lost its relevance early into the movie as the stranger was revealed too soon. Fortunately, it caught on back as the movie went on.

Lastly, we do appreciate the sponsorship of MTN but their presence was made way too loud and obvious. At a point the movie was beginning to look like an over-extended MTN TV commercial which could be quite annoying. Though at a point, the movie makers made the mistake of letting us see that Jemima’s supposed MTN phone actually had a Glo line in it as we see in the taxi scene where she had to call either Fred or Sadiq to make her choice.

Overall, Letters to a Stranger was a good movie and an applaudable credit to director and producer Fred Amata, and associate director and writer Victor Sanchez Aghahowa.
It’s a movie worth watching and not a waste of your money; it’s a movie that gets you laughing, smiling and shedding a tear or two. The suspense is very impressive and effective, the dialogues are interesting and the ending impactful.

Rating for Letters to a Stranger
Worth watching! ****

Rating List

Don’t waste your money abeg! > *
They tried > **
Not bad at all > ***
Worth watching! > ****
Grab some popcorn or suya! > *****

PS:I had to post this entry through HTML! Blogger is still messing with my settings! I dont have a post editor panel!

13 Screamer(s):


‘Segun! What on earth are you doing?’

Segun turned round to see Ada standing behind him in a short red gown, arms akimbo, a quizzical look on her face.
He gave a big sigh of relief grabbing briefly at his chest.

‘Ada, you scared the living daylights out of me!’

‘Hmm…you’ve been a bit edgy these past few days. What’s wrong with you?’

‘I guess I’ve been a little bit paranoid. Maybe it’s the stress at work’
He dabbed his sweaty face with his hankie. It was a deliberate move to hide his face. Ada was very good at reading expressions, especially if you were lying to her.

‘Oh you poor baby’, Ada cooed at him, caressing his face and planting a soft kiss on his lips.
Normally, whenever she did this, it sent electrifying charges of lust shooting through his body but today things seemed different. The kiss felt cold, her caress felt like tiny tentacles from some deadly parasite, and her grip felt like the shackles of death.

For a moment, his conscience had reared up its ugly head and beclouded his mind with tormenting guilt. He shook off her hands and walked hurriedly out of the bar. A battle was raging in his mind; two voices argued violently in his head.

Don’t tell me you’re going to run off and leave that chick all by her self! Don’t you see she needs you?

But what about Shola? She’s been with you through the thick and thin; she’s your wife. Are you going to keep cheating on her?

Who say’s you’re cheating on her? This is just a game that adults play. As long as you keep this affair a secret, things will go on fine!

But you know secrets like this only end up being exposed. Someone may soon catch you at it.

Not if you stay away from where anyone can catch you. Beside’s you’re not the only one doing this, some of your friends are too.

But what about what this strange guy has been telling you? Haven’t you for once thought of taking him serious?

Duh! It only means you’ve not been doing enough to keep this secret a secret!

The argument seemed to go on and on. He stood outside the bar beside his car and held firmly against the car door. His mind was going into a mental staccato as he tried to make a decision.

Finally, he made one.

But only after he had turned to look towards the bar to see Ada cat-walking towards him.
The light from the bar shone through her diaphanous dress and he saw a silhouetted outline of what she would look like naked.

Suddenly, the voice that was encouraging him to continue with the affair became highly motivated and drowned the other one that opposed the idea.
He couldn’t resist the allure from this woman. She reached deep into him like he had never felt.
Somewhere inside him, a faint voice yelled at him, that he was like a rat chewing on sweet succulent poison. He ignored reason and obeyed lust.

He took the puzzled Ada by the hands and drew her closer to him.

‘I’m sorry for barging out like that. Just needed some air’

‘And what on earth was suffocating you in there? My kiss?’

‘Oh come on…of course not. I was just stressed. That’s all.’

‘You’re lying.’ She had looked into his face.

‘Okay. I want you.’

‘You want me?’


She looked hard into his face then gave up.

‘At least that’s one truth you’re telling.’

She leaned forward and re-enacted her caressing and kissing ritual again. His eyes closed as he kissed back pressing her against the side of the Honda.
He opened his eye them briefly and froze in mid-kiss.
Ada opened her eyes and looked into his. Their lips were still locked but his was beginning to tremble.
On one of the side windows of the car was the reflection of a familiar face - the strange man in the white African lace.
The reflection folded its arms and shook its head disappointedly.

Segun broke the kiss and turned round sharply but there was no one standing behind him.
He looked at the window again. It was blank.
He yanked out his keys, opened the car and ordered a confused Ada to get in.

‘Segun what’s wrong?’

‘Let’s get the hell out of here. I think someone may be spying on us.’

The hotel they chose was on the outskirts of the town; a long distance from their regular rendezvous.
Segun kept the details of his encounter with the strange man hidden from Ada. He didn’t didn’t tell her anything about it for fear of sending her into a panic. Ada might be a tough chick but Segun knew where her weaknesses lay.

By the time they had caught their fun at the hotel’s garden club – danced to the music under the creative maneuver of a enigmatic DJ, had a few bottles of alcohol and chatted with other fellow night crawlers – Segun had totally forgotten what happened earlier; his dread had been washed away with an endless supply of beer and switched off by the sensual touches of his scandalously sensual companion. He was having the time of his life.

The night was colorful and full of energy…just like the surroundings of the hotel…just like the room lobbies which were littered with fornicating couples getting ready for the night’s main course.

Yes. The night was colorful and full of life…just like the room Segun and Ada booked…just like the sex they had that night.

The night was full of life…until that moment when Segun rose from the bed, freeing himself from the hold of a sleeping Ada to go and take a pee.

There standing by the big draped windows, arms folded and shaking his head disappointedly stood the stranger in the white lace fabric.

Segun almost peed on himself.

‘What the hell are you doing here? How did you get in?’ He ranted in an angry whisper.

The stranger said nothing but just kept looking at him. There was a blank expression on his face that made Segun feel uneasy.

Segun got out of the bed, he was in his briefs. His mind raced on what to do.
He couldn’t fathom why the man was in the room. Things had obviously generated to another level. What was this guy here to do? Was it finally to kill him?

‘Please I don’t know what it is you want but I’ll pay you double of what you were paid just to let me alone’, Segun said. He had mustered strength to put up a bold act but was disappointed when he heard the way his voice sounded. It had fear lined up all over his tone.

‘Please…I…I promise I won’t do this again…I’ll p-pay you whatever…’ He knew he was making promises he wasn’t sure he could keep but that was a bother for later.

‘Sorry. Too late.’ It was the first time the stranger had spoken since he appeared and his tone sounded firm and dead serious.

Segun lost his nerve. He had never in life felt morbid fear at such intensity. He suddenly felt a strange cold gust blow through his entire being.

He had to do something. He couldn’t allow this guy attack him without fighting back.
His eye caught sight of an empty flower vase on the writing table a few inches away from where he stood.
Acting on his survival instinct, he went for the vase.

He never got to pick it.

His hands seemed to go through the vase.

He blinked several times trying to figure out whether it was the beer that was still holding his senses captive but found out that he felt perfectly okay, he couldn’t even feel the usual hangover that followed. He checked the clock on the table. The time read 3:30am.
Something wasn’t right.

Then he heard Ada scream.

He swung round to find out what the commotion was about and froze when his eyes settled on the bed.

Ada was jumping about on the bed and screaming.

On the bed partially wrapped under the sheets lay a man that bore a striking resemblance to him.

It took Segun two minutes to realize he starring at his own corpse.

‘Come on Segun. Your time is up. It’s time to go’

Your time is up. That was the only thing he heard as reality dawned on him. Anguish welled up inside him and he let out a blood curdling scream…a scream no one would ever hear.

He sobbed uncontrollably and tried to reach out for his body but found the whole room had begun to somehow moving away from his reach. He turned to the stranger for answers but the man in the white african fabric had transformed. He was glowing with amazing and beautiful radiance...but his face looked mean.
Segun felt a knowledge coming upon him - that this was the messenger of death sent to take his soul.
He screamed for the second time as the angel took his hand and led him away into a dreaded vast waiting eternity.


© Lolu Kush (Afronuts) - Story
© Kimson Masters - Illustrations

*Sorry I couldnt put up the illustration to this part. Blogger is messing with my settings.*

29 Screamer(s):

Whats happening to blogger?

Is it me or is blogger acting wierd? I've been trying to post the concluding entry to the story with pictures but I cant see the panel for uploading images!

Anybody experiencing the same thing?

12 Screamer(s):

HERITAGE WEB SOLUTIONS: Committed to a Clean Community

Before the advent of the computer somebody made a striking quote that ‘the world is a stage’.
It very clear that its very true because the internet has made the world one global community.
To keep such a massive community running you need geniuses of intellect; virtual experts whose special touch give the world wide web a reason to keep spinning.

Enter HERITAGE WEB SOLUTIONS, a top notch USA based company that specializes in Designing and Hosting Affordable Websites for Small and Medium Size Businesses.

Now you’d think I’m just running my mouth and making a big fuss over ‘just another web solutions company’ but pray tell me, how can I just ignore a company that has become a multi-million dollar enterprise in just 7 years, was recognized two consecutive years (which is quite rare) by Inc.500 and Utah Valley BusinessQ as one of the fastest growing with a staggering 3,443.1 percent growth in revenue in three years?

I tell you; you just can’t ignore such. And to cap it all HERITAGE WEB SOLUTIONS and its employees recently set in motion, plans to clean up their community. Now that’s something to give their clients a great deal of rest of mind.

Not every web solutions company may consider doing this but here’s one that certainly does. It goes to show how importantly this company values its integrity and doing the right thing to ensure their customers get value for their money.

The company no doubt keeps growing because of its committed employees which the company takes it time to equally groom to be the best. Paul Beebe of The Salt Lake Tribune once asked the question in his article: ‘How do you manage a company that grew by more than 3,400 percent from 2003 to the end of last year?’
For a company that doesn’t kid with its employees, services and clientele; a company that 's  dedicated to ensuring that it leaves a legacy and a good example of ensuring a clean community, such a question is so easy to answer. 

There’s a maxim that states that 'it’s hard work getting to the top and it’s also hard work staying there.' HERITAGE WEB SOLUTIONS and its employees have taken this maxim to heart by taking every measure to keep their community clean.

Now why wouldn’t I consider the services of such a company?

Only those who want the best go for the best

Heritage Web Solutions

17 Screamer(s):


Shola had been waiting at home, almost worried to death about Segun’s whereabouts. She was a gentle and easy going woman who never raised her voice against her husband nor questioned his outings. She believed and trusted him with all her soul; a state she had come to dwell in ever since those days when after a tough game of playing hard-to-get. She was a strong-minded woman who had been hard to win over but once Segun succeeded in wooing her, she fell hopelessly in love with him.

Shola was worried because she had gotten a call. Somebody had called in from Segun’s office to ask where he had dropped the files for a certain project. She was baffled. 
Wasn’t Segun on assignment from the office? Why where they calling for him at home? 

She explained his absence. 

They said they had sent him on no such assignment. He had requested for a casual leave to attend to personal matters.

Then she had called his line and he didn’t pick it.
Shola got worried and had paced up and down the living room, trying hard to think.
Had something bad happened to Segun?

She was dressed and about leaving to go meet a close friend of her husband when Segun walked in.
He gave her a stern look; the type that’s guaranteed to put the fear of God in you. If Shola knew it was all just a façade to hide the lingering feeling of guilt biting deep into his conscience, she probably wouldn’t have fallen for it.

‘And where do you think you’re going’? he asked, his eyes traveling from the length of her well bunned silky hair to the sleeveless red blouse, navy blue jeans, black heeled slippers and finally back to her face.
‘Thank God you’re back. I was worried; I was about to get Harry so we could go searching for you. Where have you been? I called the office but they said you never went on any assignment.’ 
Shola’s concern for him was so intense she had failed to notice he had slightly jumped when she mentioned the call to the office.

But Segun knew how to deal with the situation. He had done it before. Within minutes he had cooked up a cock and bull story about going on a casual leave in order to work outside the office. 

As usual Shola fell for it. 

Segun sighed secretly in relief. He had been tense waiting to see whether she would buy it. After his encounter with the strange man, he wasn’t sure if Shola was up to something; like sending someone to spy on him. Her actions spelt out her ignorance about his infidelity.
He slumped into sofa, picked up the remote and switched on the TV.

                                            * * *

The bartender placed Segun’s order before him.
He murmured his thanks, picked up the malt liquor and sipped on it.
His eyes wandered round the bar, taking in everybody in the bar. Not many people were around which was quite unusual for a Friday.

He glanced at his Rolex; the time read 9:30pm. Ada was running late. He didn’t like being kept waiting but in Ada’s case he unconsciously chose to make an exception. Rather than be impatient, he was nervous; the type that gripped you when you’ve just lied to your wife about your whereabouts and you’re trying hard not to be spotted by anybody who looked like a spy sent by your pretentious wife.

Though he had been relieved that Shola wasn’t suspecting him of anything yet, he felt a certain dread that she might eventually rise to the occasion. His dead conscience seemed eager to resurrect at the thought. He killed it instantly by pre-occupying his mind with thoughts of what he would do to Ada that night. 

He took another sip at his drink, turned briefly to view the environs of the bar again and instantly froze as his eyes rested on the person sitting next to him. 

It wasn’t the person’s face that sparked his fear because Segun wasn’t good at remembering faces, but the white African lace fabric. Segun never forgot colors and patterns.

The man was leaning against the bar table like Segun had been doing and sipping on what seemed to be a glass of water.
He placed down his glass and turned to Segun, a pleasant smile well lit on his face.

‘Hi Segun. Having fun?’

Segun continued to look at him, unaware that he wasn’t doing a good job of hiding his shock. 

‘Who are you? Why are you following me? Who sent you?’

‘Hey relax, take it easy. What on earth makes you think I’m following you?’

‘Why wouldn’t I suspect you of following me? This isn’t the first time we’re meeting!’

 ‘Hmm, you’re a smart and observant guy I must say, but I’m only here to do my job and it means our paths must cross.’

Fear gripped Segun. Did he just say ‘job’? What job? 
Images flashed through his mind of what kind ‘job’ it might be; a spy’s, an assassin’s or a kidnapper’s.

The man seemed to know what he was thinking.
‘Relax man. My job is just to advice you and warn you.’

He took another sip of his water and leaned forward. His voice came out clearly and boldly with some authority that made the hair on the back of Segun’s neck stand up in fear.

‘Stop cheating on your wife. You’re gonna hurt her…badly’

Segun replied defiantly, though still afraid because he didn’t know whom he was dealing with.
‘Look mister, I don’t know who you are and I find your accusation rather insulting!’ 

The man looked flustered but still maintained a calm voice.
‘I’m sorry if I’ve upset you, but I’m just doing my job. That’s what I was sent to tell you. You’ll end up hurting your wife badly if you continue doing this.’ 

‘Doing what?’

‘Sleeping with a strange woman’

‘Excuse me?’

‘You heard me.’

Segun exhaled slowly and drummed his fingers on the bar table. He always did such things when anything hit him with a big blow.
He looked down then up again into the man’s face. He hadn’t forgotten the other part of the question he wanted to ask.

‘Who sent you?’

‘A concerned person.’

‘And who is this person?’

‘Sorry, I’m not allowed to tell’

‘What do you mean…?’ Segun began but was cut off by a buzzing watch alarm.
The man looked quickly at his wristwatch, downed his water and got off his stool.

‘Sorry, my time is up for today. I’ve got another assignment to carry out.’
‘What…but we’re not finished here! I still have questions…’

‘They’ll be answered…in due time.’

He dipped his hand into his pocket, drew out a folded piece of paper and offered it to Segun who took it reluctantly. 

‘Please take my word serious, and we won’t have to see for the third time.’

He took his leave quickly. Segun watched him walk towards the bar door. He was now more confused than before. He swallowed hard and tried to comport himself.
He looked at the paper the man had given to him. It was a copy of the same tract the man had given him on the first day they met. Voices began to raise questions in his mind

Who was behind all this? Is Shola involved?

In the middle of his questing somebody tapped slowly on his back.

Fearfully, he turned round slowly…  

To be continued...

© Lolu Kush (Afronuts) - Story
© Kimson Masters - Illustrations

15 Screamer(s):


Segun’s mobile phone rang and vibrated violently against Ada’s legs. 

She shrieked and jumped off the bed in fright.

It took five seconds for her senses to comprehend what was actually happening. 
The phone had been lying next to her on the bed. Segun must have absent mindedly dropped it there when he was ripping her clothes off.

She strutted angrily round to the side of the bed where Segun lay, face down, asleep, butt naked; his face hidden behind the pillow, part of his arms and legs entangled in the sheets. The only thing in full view was his big black ass which glowed under the dimmed lights of the hotel room like the outer part of a well oiled calabash.

She picked the still ringing mobile phone and wedged it in-between the cracks of his big fat butt.

That was all Segun needed to snap him out of the dream he had been deeply entranced in.

He jumped up in shock, fell off the bed and hit the floor. The phone slid out of his butt on impact and rolled to one side of the room.

‘What the hell…’ He gasped trailing off as he looked up to Ada for an explanation. He couldn’t fathom what just happened.

‘What kind of a nasty phone is that? Its got a cacophonous ring tone and vibrates like an electric chair!’ Ada yelled at him.

‘Huh? What did my phone do to you…?’ a confused Segun spoke in a slurred voice, his eyes still clouded and drunken with sleep.

By now the phone had stopped ringing. Ada hissed, picked her underwear and clothes, and made for the bathroom.

He got up from the floor, stretched out, yawned loudly and walked over to where the phone lay. He picked it up and checked out who had been calling.

His eyes flew wide open and he froze at the caller’s ID.

It was Shola - his wife. 

Why did she call? What did she want? Didn’t he tell her that he would be out of town for two days on ‘official assignment’?

Minutes later he stepped out of the Hotel with Ada and made for the car park. As he searched his pocket for his bunch of keys, a handsome young man in white African lace fabric walked up to him smiling.
‘Good day sir. I’d like you to have this’, the man said handing a small leaflet over to him. He also gave one to Ada.
‘May God bless you as you read it’. And without waiting for any response, he walked away.

Segun looked at the tract. It had a message that talked about the marriage and fidelity and a bunch of stuff that hinted on the unpredictability of one’s death.
He looked up and around quickly for the man who had dropped the tract but he was no where to be found.
He felt uneasy. The guilty conscience of his infidelity had been suppressed over time but this little piece of paper had just re-ignited it on a grand scale. 
The man who had given him this paper…did he know something?

Ada hissed, crumpled hers, threw it in a nearby gutter, opened the front passenger side of the car and got in. Segun looked at her. She didn’t seem to have any conscience at all. She seemed so content sleeping with another woman’s husband.
He looked across the street hoping he would catch a glimpse of the mystery man but there was no sign of him anywhere.

To be continued....

© Lolu Kush (Afronuts) - Story
© Kimson Masters - Illustrations

23 Screamer(s):



Lolu Kush (Afronuts) - Story
Kimson Masters - Illustrations

A man who’s been cheating on his wife discovers a strange man keeps showing up at his various secret rendezvous while catching fun with his girlfriend. Is the man spying on him? Was he sent by his supposedly unsuspecting wife?
What he discovers is far more than he could comprehend; something far more terrifying than being spied upon by another human being.

Stay tuned…

20 Screamer(s):

Worth having - The Water Maker

It looks like a water dispenser but you can’t help noticing the striking difference. This is simply because it has no water refill or replacement bottle which most dispensers happen to have. 
This amazing contraption not only dispenses water, it also MAKES water. Yes you heard me. That’s why it’s called the Water Maker. 
Using the technology similar to the way Air conditioners work, it takes in air and condenses it into water. Then it filters and purifiers it before it’s dispensed in either hot or cold variants.

Some of the folks in my office are a bit afraid to use it. I don’t blame them. Most of them are too used to normal refillable dispensers and are trying to fathom how a dispenser that doesn’t need water refills can make water out of the air. I guess that’s what happens when you’re not much of a science and technology person. Questions have been raised, what if one farts? What if the air around it is smelly? Blah…blah…blah

What they fail to realize that this recycled water is the purest form of water because the water refills they get in normal dispensers are usually treated and not all that fresh. The water maker just recycles natural air into natural water and filters and purifies it using elements similar to those found in the soil which help purifying water. 

I’ve been drinking from the Water Maker and I tell you - the water is really FRESH. 
It’s a great gadget that’s going to change a lot of things.
It’s going to help utilize our natural resources in way that the earth won’t loose out. 
Imagine this machine being purchased for places where water is scarce. As long as there is AIR, it has what it needs to make water!

Isn’t that Awesome?

I’ll recommend the water maker anytime, any day, anywhere. That’s some real good earth friendly tech you could use!

8 Screamer(s):

THE CHRONICLES X: Nadia's Nemesis 3

Shocked eyes all around the auditorium stared wildly at her; eyes that knew her and eyes that didn’t. Some students burst into laughter; others just looked in surprise at the chick that had just mesmerized the atmosphere.

Then its stench hit the air.

Nadia watched in hotly amplified embarrassment as people gasped at the nasty stink; some ran out of the auditorium, some hurled insults at her while others just laughed at her keeping their distance from ‘ground zero’ where she sat.

Nadia buried her faced in her palms. The lioness in her had died; the fierce thugness that lived in her was instantly choked to death. She had become vulnerable.
She buried her shameful face into her arms on the desk, stewing in the stench of her own fart.

A year later
The graduation ceremony was a colorful one. There was festivity and celebration in the air.
Wilson straightened his suit and graduation gown as he walked to the stage to shake the hand of the Vice Chancellor and collect his degree.

Outside the huge theatre hall where the event took place, families, friends and loved ones gathered around graduands to celebrate and take photographs.

Moments later, Wilson handed his academic gown to his younger brother, excused himself from his jubilant family and took a stroll to the gents. 
On his way he had to pass by one of the lecture halls of the Administrative Faculty.
He had hardly strolled by when he saw her sitting at an extreme end inside the hall, buried deep in books.
He went in and walked over to where she sat. 
She was dressed in a pair of ankle-length jeans, a flowery blouse and canoe shaped flat heeled loafers. Her face had no make-up, and she wore a pair of silver rimmed spectacles. Her hair had been neatly tied back in a bun.
He stood firm behind her desk. If he hadn’t taken a close look, he wouldn’t have recognized her.
‘Hello Nadia’
She jumped, held her chest and looked up.
‘Wilson! You startled me!’

He drew up a chair and sat next to her.
‘Nadia, I can’t believe it’s you. You’ve changed!’

‘Hmm…thanks’. Her eyes were back in her book.

‘What happened? You just disappeared and we never saw you around the faculty again.’

‘That’s because I changed my course, department and faculty.’


‘I needed to.’ She turned a page. Wilson noticed her fingers bore no nail paint and her nails had been trimmed short.

‘I was surprised that you weren’t graduating. What…’
He didn’t finish. She slammed the book shut, interrupting him and turned to face him.

‘Wilson, lets just say I’ve gotten wiser and finally found myself.’

‘Oh…Okay. I get you. Hey, how about joining me and the boys, we’ll be having an after grad party at the…’

‘Sorry. I don’t do parties anymore’.

She began packing her books into a rucksack.

Wilson watched her, speechless and confused.

This was not the Nadia he knew. Something had happened to her. She had become a bookish freak. Her sensual and seductive look had given way to a conservative one. She no longer cut the picture of the sassy, sexy, uninhibited and naughty vixen who had ruled the campus queens. She was now a different Nadia – a reserved, less fashionable and introverted nerd; all her loud and exaggerated beauty had been buried; as if it had been choked to death; it’s like she had undergone a personality plastic surgery.

All Wilson knew was that she had disappeared from the scene in the Social Sciences Faculty after some unclear and rumored incident a year ago, only to resurface in the Administration Faculty. 

He helped her with the rest of her books. She took them, smiled, murmured her thanks and walked away in quikened strides that lacked the grace of a seductress' catwalk as she was usually accustomed to. 

Wilson stood by the desk and watched her walk away. He suddenly felt uneasy, hot and stuffy inside his suit. He wanted to go after her and talk to her more but a strong instinct told him to let go. He watched Nadia turn a corner round the building and disappear from sight, questioning thoughts bombarding his mind over her strange metamorphosis.

© Lolu Kush (Afronuts) - Story
© Kimson Masters - Illustrations

12 Screamer(s):

THE CHRONICLES X: Nadia's Nemesis 2

‘S…sorry. I w…was looking…I thought…Oh sh*t! ’ he rambled and cursed incoherently searching his brain for the right words to apply to the awkward situation.

‘If you’re looking for any of the girls, they’ve all gone out. Now would you mind shutting the door on your way out?’ She answered curtly without taking her eyes off the mirror.

‘You sure?’ His voice seemed to have changed. His hand which rested on the doorknob seemed eager to shut door – but with him inside and not outside the room.

Nadia sighed, a wry smile played at the edge of her lips. She knew his type. He was the opportunist; the one that desperately scratched every forsaken surface and corner for the slightest moment to jump the bones of anything that had the female anatomy; the type that had ‘Pervert’ written all over him.

The building rage in her intensified. It became a lethal combination of that against the Prof. that called her bluff and the hungry ‘dog’ of a dude leering lustfully at her nakedness. She ignored a sudden rumble in her stomach and starred hard at his reflection in the mirror, her face wore a cold and deadly look.

‘Of course I’m cock sure! Unless you want to receive ‘maximum shishi’ from all the chicks in this hall for attempting to rape a harmless girl?’ Her harsh rasping voice seemed to work like magic as she watched his reflection become first flushed with fear then transit into that of embarrassment. Hastily he opened the door and bolted out murmuring a barely audible ‘sorry’.

‘Maximu Shi shi’.

Every student dreaded that word. It was the insane jungle justice meted out by irate students against any offender that posed a threat to the ‘sanity’ of life and politics on campus. Those who had received this treatment bore scars that testified of their ordeal, scars that made intending ‘enfant terribles’ to rethink their brat status.

She walked to the door, bolted it and made for the wardrobe. Minutes later she walked out of the room, sporting a pair of blue three-quarter jeans laced at the bottom with a red jumper T-shirt which apart from sparingly bearing some cleavage, showcased her well-toned belly plus a cutely curved navel. Except for a bright red lipstick, she wore no other make-up. She didn’t need to. She knew quite well that even if she woke up early in the morning with dried up spittle caking on both sides of her cheeks and her hair all standing up like an electrocution victim, she’d still look drop dead gorgeous.

She cat-walked scandalously, drawing eyes of lust from every male and jealous rage from every female that caught sight of her. Despite looking like a beauty that needed all the randy ‘knights’ in 'rusted amour' to do her bidding, she also had a dark side which had been nurtured from her heydays as a tomboy.

Nadia had a secondary school history of being the neighborhood brat. She had once broken into her class teacher’s office in the after hours of school after a childish seduction of the gateman whom she teased with the promise of a ‘good time’ - a well garnished lie of course.
She succeeded in getting into her teacher’s office, laying hold of her test papers and forging her test scores to favorable ones.
At another time, she had stolen one of the school’s official stamps in order to be able to create fake permission slips to be let out through the school gate, her true destination being the numerous parties and hang outs with delinquent friends from other schools.

Yes. Nadia was a brat in the past, with a thug mindset. She loved to dress like a boy and smoke like one until puberty rode hard on her and she felt her hormones and body raging out of control. Her body couldn’t assume its masculine look anymore. Suddenly she had breasts and her hips fleshed out; her face underwent rapid metamorphosis and a beauty she never knew was there, was born.
Suddenly, her boyish clothes didn’t fit anymore; she looked out of place where she had once reigned. Even the guys who saw her as an ally now saw her as an ‘opportunity’, and worse of all, she had to carry those ‘diapers’ called ‘Tampax’ around with her when it was time to host the notorious ‘Aunt Flo’.

But when life opens a different chapter, you’ve got no choice but to adjust. Nadia did just that and what she initially despised, became her tool; her means to many ends and a seductive weapon of destruction.

Tonight, she was on her way to perform the rites she had never in her life imagined she’d have to do in a long time – read for the reluctant professor’s exam.
All efforts to tune free marks and good grades in her favour had failed. She had tried other channels, other academic influences she had romped with for the benefit of her grades but unfortunately the lecturer was way too powerful to be sidetracked. He wielded the reins of power amongst a mafia of strong minded likes. How he did it, she would never know. Even the cult boys on campus refused her request to get him to ‘agree’ to her wants. She recollected her discussion with Wilson, the Capone of the campus’ most dreaded fraternity. He owed her a favour for all the ‘service’ she had rendered at his lavish parties, not to talk of giving him a ‘dose’ of what she was made of. She had watched as Wilson’s face break into a volley of sweat when she mentioned the lecturer’s name; he immediately refused before she even finished. She had requested to know the reason for the refusal but he refused to tell her anymore. (Later she would find out that the professor was Wilson’s Uncle) She realized she had reached a dead end.

For the first time in her entire school life, she felt helpless. It was either she studied for that paper or carried it over. She was fast approaching the depressive state. She buried herself in her curse - successive meals of beans now and again to throw her mind off her worries.

She strolled gingerly along the gangway corridor that connected the different departments in the Faculty of Social Sciences. Auditoriums and classes where well lit for the evening and had some students warming up for coming exams.

The whole studious act was totally alien to her.

Her stomach rumbled violently and for a moment she paused and grabbed hold of one of the poles along the dimly lit corridor. The rumbling subsided and she continued her trip.
She eventually found an auditorium that had just a very scanty number of students in it studying for the exams.
She found a seat somewhere in the middle of the auditorium and went about her business.
She opened her notebooks; notes that were written in another’s handwriting - She had been too lazy to write notes and had paid someone to write her them for her.

She stared hard at the pages, visibly terrified. They were totally alien to her. Weeks of ‘stabbing’ classes were beginning to show in her inability to comprehend the notes before her.
She flipped the pages somewhat hoping she could find somewhere to pick up from.

At that moment more students trickled into the auditorium to read for the night. Nadia didn’t take much notice. She fumed at her notes as if they had failed her. She couldn’t understand what the heck she was reading.
She grew tense and her palms became moist – something that always happened whenever she was nervous.
Another rumble sounded in her belly.
Why was it hard for her to read this? What’s the big deal with reading written notes?

Gradually it dawned on her. This was one of those courses where there was no way you could fully understand the notes if you were never in class.

Her palms moistened the more and stained the pages.
Her breathing quickened as her heart beat rapidly in tune to the realization.
Her stomach rumbled violently as she turned the pages blindly not knowing what to do.

Then she lost control…and farted loudly.

It echoed throughout the whole auditorium...

To be continued....

© Lolu Kush (Afronuts) - Story
© Kimson Masters - Illustrations

24 Screamer(s):

THE CHRONICLES X: Nadia's Nemesis

The slight chill of the late evening bit into Nadia’s soft silky skin and she found herself clasping her feet together, burrowing deeper into the sheets and hugging tightly onto her pillows like it was a matter of life and death. 

The room was silent. The others had left. They had gone to enjoy the moment. She felt robbed.
She had always been the queen of such moments. She was the one who usually held the aces; the one who exuded the charm that ruled those moments; the one who called the shots, who settled the fights, who represented royalty among the dregs of the campus; the one who made the sons of adam engage their bladders in a wet fest as their lusts raged out of control.

She was the gifted numero uno of desire; the unbroken focus of the wanton naira-flashing ‘aristos’ on Campus.

And here she was, in bed, heavily troubled by a perceived looming disaster disguised in the intimidating robes of academia, while at the same time heavily troubled by thundering abdominal booms; the result of her passionate and secret romance last night with a plate of beans. Here she was, robbed of the precious moment of stealing the show for that night.

She raised her head and glanced out through her bedside window. The evening sky spread out in a hue of orange and grey as the sun broadcast its final view across the campus landscape.
The evening smelled of opportunities; dark ones that offered crisp and freshly minted currency which would be doled out after moments of intense orgies and alcohol. 
The evening smelled of opportunities, but she was getting none of it because she had been robbed of it… 

By a Lecturer.

He had refused it. 
And she just couldn’t fathom why. 

What every other lecturer relished, this stubborn professor refused. She needed to pass badly. Her GPA had suffered due to her negligence and she never bothered about it. It could always be mended whenever she wanted like she had done since her 1st and 2nd year on campus. All it took was a night out with the lecturers in question. She had made sure she chose courses that had male lecturers and avoided the ones that were spear headed by females. 

She was now in her third year, the GPA was crumbling and her ‘efforts’ to revive it had met a brick wall. This was heavy unit course; compulsory and undebateable. And this lecturer had refused.

She jumped out of the bed. The anger that had manifested after that experience reared its ugly head from the depths of her subconscious and stormed her entire body in a trembling fit. She felt her flesh tightening as blood rushed through her veins in response to the fury building within her. Her breathing quickened, her heavily endowed chest moving to the rhythm of her mounting rage. 
She walked to the full length mirror that had been nailed to the wall and stood defiantly before it. She pulled off the gown she was wearing, exposing her complete nakedness before the full glare of the mirror.
Her eyes traveled round her reflected figure, taking in all the details that had made her the envy of fellow females and the desire of every ‘dog’ in male skin. The curves, the smoothness, the protrudrances and the sultry bounces…they were all there. How come this particular ‘dog’ didn’t answer to the call of her rich endowments?

Her stomach rumbled again. It was the call of beans; her edible passion. She loved it and always found solace and ultimate pleasure in the legume that many, including herself, denied ever liking. She never ate it in the open, only in the comforting confines of her room. Her passion for beans was her curse, her secret.

A knock on the door. The least wanted of all things – a blasted knock on the door at a time when she was totally submerged in the gentle waters of sensual meditation.

‘Come in’, she said, not taking her eyes off the mirror, not even bothering to cover her ever-desirable birthday suit. 

The door opened and a well dressed young man walked in. He stopped in his tracks; frozen, shocked, dazed and confused...

To be continued...

© Lolu Kush (Afronuts) - Story
© Kimson Masters - Illustrations

23 Screamer(s):

Blog Review for Today - LadyGuide (LG)

She calls herself LG, acronym for ‘Ladyguide’ which is also the name of her blog – and does a good deal of guiding you into a fit of mindless laughter from the way she dishes the yarns on her blog. Her blog is the type I’d refer to the ‘Fantabulously Sanguine Blog’.

Let’s start first of all with the look of her blog. It chocolate brown – a sweet color to the eyes with a welcoming masthead of the frothing seawater washing next to the drawing of a heart etched into the sand. The aesthetic look of her blog succeeds in its job of getting your attention because of its unique look; its single minded use of just one dull yet inviting color with a soft yet strong look is very striking and memorable. 

I think it would have been more interesting if LG had a tagline below her name that described her as the one to give you a tour guide into a world of hilarious moments. Nevertheless, LG’s blog is one BIG comic relief, anytime, anyday. 

Probably it’s LG’s content that actually takes your reactions to the climax. Her deliberate use of Naija pidgin in the most hilarious manner just blows your mind as you read through. The blog’s conversational manner is so apt that the simplest things she mentions such as observations can activate your sense of humour. For those stressed out folks, for those burned out peeps, for those depressed individuals and unhappy bogons (provided you’re Naija because of the pidgin and Naija references), I’ll recommend a dosage of LG’s blog. This girl is just off the hook. 

One other thing I like about her blog are her social commentaries. LG no doubt is a good observer of things happening around her from the nature of these entries. She takes time to detail happenstances that give you a vivid picture of a brief moment.
LG’s use of pidgin and well-known Naija lingos are elemets that give her blog that desirable appeal; these are the elements that generate that enjoyable nostalgia of our motherland, Nigeria. Despite the wahala in the country, there’s so much material to generate humour from and she achieves that on her blog. 

LG stands out as a good blogger. Her blog is original and has a style of its own. I’ll accord her as one of the most interesting ‘Naijacentric’ blogs I’ve ever read. 

Rating for LG
I'm digging it!

10 Screamer(s):


Okay! from the comments on my last entry, people don't wanna see reviews. Na wah oh. Yet many of una dey watch dem movies like no man's business.

Anyway somebody already does the movie review thingy. Check it out on Nneoma's nollywood blog.


I got picked by kin'shar on one of these tagging things. I always run from them but I guess I'll do this one because it has a sensible objective - to promote as many blogs as possible in the blogosphere.

Its an award thing and kin'shar gave me one. Well I'm honored to be seen as fit for this. The award is for blogs whose content and design are brilliant as well as creative. Though  I wonder why the picture logo says 'Honest Blogger'. And come to think of it, I've gotten comments that state my entries as being honest. So I guess I'll pass. this thing na work oh!

So I'll pick my own awardees for the 'Honest blogger' award and here they are:


Black James Bond






For you who got picked, here are the rules to follow:

1. When you receive the prize you must write a post showing it, together with the name of who has given it to you, and link them back
2. Choose a minimum of 7 blogs (or even more) that you find brilliant in their content or design.
3. Show their names and links and leave them a comment informing they were prized with ‘Brilliant Weblog’
4. Show a picture of those who awarded you and those you give the prize (optional).
5. And then we pass it on!

9 Screamer(s):

To Review or not to review?

I actually wanted this to be a poll but since my blog layout seems to be acting up against that, I decided to make it an entry. The question is this:


I need your opinions. I'm not giving optional answers for you to pick on. Just let me know whatever you think. Any action I take towards after this will be by popular request.

So you guys decide whether to review or not to review?

13 Screamer(s):

The Obese and The Plus Sized

I burst into a fit of rabid laughter.
My mentor had just related something that’s so funny yet seriously shocking.

He said while he was in the US he had never in his life come across such massive and huge human beings as the variety of fat people you have in America. 

Why did he raise this point?
He was talking about trying to meet Naija’s needs. One of such needs is food. If the we can totally solve the problem of hunger in Nigeria then we’ll have fewer cases of poor nutrition and living below the poverty line in terms of feeding. The common man in Nigerian is struggling to put food on the table and feed a family - That’s a need that has to be met across the nation.

In comparism, the US has solved that problem. In fact, the need has been met too much such that it’s become a problem.

The proof? Obese people all over the place!


According to Ron Taylor in his article, Obesity - an American Epidemic:  

An epidemic of obesity and its health related complications are sweeping America.
Unfortunately, one out of three of us are part of this plague, and the number appears to grow daily. 
Despite an abundance of diet books, diet plans, home exercise equipment, and dire warnings from the medical community, less than one percent of dieters achieve sustained weight loss and many fail to produce measurable results in health improvements.
 In fact, research suggests dieting may be part of the obesity problem, rather than the solution.

The root of the obesity problem lies in our eating habits. Simply put, we eat too much saturated fat and refined sugar, and too little fiber-most of this brought on by spending over half of our food budget on fast food in the form of greasy burgers and fries, gulped down with syrup-laden sodas…

Read the rest of the article

Eddie Murphy's 'Femme FATale' in Norbit bares the (Uurrgh!) flesh.

Naija has its own share of fat folks too but there are more cases of massive potbellies in Naija than obese people. Thanks to excessive starchy food consumption and absence of balanced diet. 
I’ve come across some cases where fat people try to justify their being large as a feature that should be appreciated and not ridiculed.

Well, my point would be that there’s a difference between an Obese person and a Plus-sized person. Obese people usually have a record of excessive intake of junk food and had a way they looked before they became how they are.

 Plus sized folks are just naturally big. And you’ll find out that such people can still look ‘flabulous’ because they were made that way.

Monique - plus sized thats big and beautiful

So if you’re naturally plus-sized, then you’re big and can be beautiful. As for being obese, I don’t see anything beautiful in that.

Plus-Sized can still be beautiful 

Obese people should stop comforting themselves by classing themselves among the plus-sized folk, they should get medical help!

27 Screamer(s):

Blog Review For Today - Vera Ezimora

If I said Vera’s blogs are dope in terms of its aesthetics, I’d be lying because in actual fact there’s nothing quite extra-ordinary about them. I could have passed it over for just another ordinary blog but I did otherwise because I believe in every blog there has to be something good hidden in there. 
I read through her blogs and at the end I was glad I didn’t pass them by! The remarkable thing is that what the blog never gave you in aesthetics, it complimented for it in the content – and it did it very well.

Without mincing words Vera manages to get your attention even when it looks like you wouldn’t give it. The magic of these blogs is such that you are carried by her writings and eventually forget whether there’s any aesthetic value or not. 

No doubt Vera is a gifted writer and I won’t be surprised if she took it as a profession (that is if her profile is saying the truth). 
As you might have noted I have been referring to two blogs which she runs – 

  • The first one titled Word of Mine deals with articles she writes about observations she makes around her and life in general. What’s very striking about this blog is that she picks outrageous stuff to analyse in such a funny way that gets you smiling if not laughing and picking some really good well reasoned facts about the subject at hand. If you’re looking for articles to read on issues concerning life that won’t keep you bored but giggling from ear to ear, this first blog achieves that aim.

  • The second blog, Verastically Livin’ is a journal that details her personal day to day accounts. This blog has some about it that is quite intricate to explain. It’s a mixture of crazy outrageous humour with thought provoking issues. Its more laid back and free-minding unlike the first blog which carries a twinge of seriousness in it. Either way you have no choice but to like one of these blogs, they’re an impressive lot.

I’ll have to summarily say that Vera is a humorous as well as intelligent writer (a power and impactful mix!). you’ll laugh at her issues but at the same time you are made to think and follow her lead. Her topics can be soo out of the ordinary with write-ups like I'm Having Twins!!! and Enigma, I’m wondering how her mind just popped the idea to do write-ups from things people wouldn’t normally notice. It made me conclude that vera is not just humorous and creative, she damn creative! Creating a blog topic out of something that looks like it don’t matter and turning it into an issue that matters (and you’re compelled to agree), now that’s the power of a real good writer!

Rating for Vera Ezimora

I'm digging it!

24 Screamer(s):

Much Ado About Mac


Apple has always been known for coming up with outstanding technololgical razzmatazz. They've got products that look like the technology for the future. Maybe they'll end up being the numero uno, who knows.

I like the looks, designs and all that sleek feel they got but I got beef for a number of  things about them...

The Mac Desktop Computer : Beautiful, stylish graphic interfaces and rich color display -stuff that has made many graphic artists fall in love with this computer. But in my brief relationship with a Mac Desktop I've come to find issues:

  1. The system is heavy! Yet when you look at it, you're decieved to feel it's light.
  2. When you tap the volume key on the keyboard, the sound effects sounds like an old woman's fart progressing to a louder crescendo.
  3. The CD drive seems to always have a lifespan that's limited than expected.
  4. It's too selective when it comes to detecting external hardware plugged to it.
  5. The sound it makes at startup aint musical at all. Not ear-friendly.  
  6. The Mac feels good to use but I don't think its user friendly.

As for the Mac Laptop, its just a smaller version of the big wahala. Portable beauty with equal wahala and same mannerisms.

The iPhone is the sensation and rave of the moment but unfortunately, a lot of ladies are gonna beef this phone because according what I read about it, it works with finger sentivity. So if you're wearing fashionably adorned nails, you aint gonna be able to tap that screen like you want to. Makes it look like a phone meant for men only!

Eermm...but on the real sha, if you dash me any Mac product I go collect!

9 Screamer(s):