The Pretty Female Bosses in the Nigerian Police

Chronicled by Afronuts @ Friday, March 18, 2016

So I was going through a trailer for a Nollywood TV drama series titled 2four7and just as I was expectant of anything to catch my fancy, something finally did. It was the female police boss in the movie.

Pretty police boss from the TV drama series 2Four7

Now, I digress to explain – I was actually watching the trailer to check out the quality of the production. I’m the kind of film buff who doesn’t just watch movies for the sake of entertainment but rather for a critical analysisof its level of production and try to figure out what must have gone on behind the scenes. I also take time to study the actors' performances and characterization (well, since I also review movies from time to time, that’s expected of me). It was in the process of taking in the characters that the role of the female police boss (I can’t figure out the name of the actress that played that role right now) caught my attention.

It wasn’t her acting performance that got my undivided focus but the fact that she was a pretty looking police boss in uniform. At that moment my mind went into a subconscious search just processing the image and suddenly another image or thought popped up in the recesses of my mind:

This policewoman in uniform looks pretty – like Ngozi Braide, former Lagos State public relations officer, a real life counterpart who also looked good in uniform.

Former Lagos Police Command PRO, Ngozi Braide

I remember the first time I saw Deputy Superintendent Braide on TV, I was surprised that the police force could have fine looking women. Most of the ones I had seen on Lagos streets were usually rugged looking.

Deputy Superintendent Ngozi Braide was finally redeployed from Lagos following an embarrassing fight between her and a Superiorofficer-an event that resulted in her threatening to stab her senior.

I used to have this funny assumption that anybody that is pretty and attractive is likely to have some scary flaw. It turns out I was somewhat right in the case of Braide as some aproko blog spilled the beans on her lifestyle and personality. The revelations were so shocking and they seemed to explain the kind of nature that would lead her to attack a senior colleague. It must have been a sensitive story that could put a blogger in trouble because it’s no longer on the gossip site that reported it. However, someone copied the info and posted it on the Naiiraland forum.

The pretty police boss in the TV series was pretty and fair complexioned like Ngozi. I could almost say the writers may have adopted the Ngozi-look for the character but then I decided against that when another Pretty policewoman boss that looked way better than braide (my opinion oh!) and looked a bit more like the TV drama cop surfaced recently in the news.

Mrs Onwuanaegbu with the Governor's entourage

I’m talking of the Divisional Police Officer of Ilasan Police Station in Lekki, Mrs. Onyinye Onwuanaegbu, who can be seen in the recent photos of the Governor Akinwumi Ambode entourage inspection of structures in Lekki Gardens.

Its as if Governor Ambode is resisting the urge to look at the pretty cop

There was just no way you could ignore Mrs. Onwuanaegbu in these pics; she stood out in resplendent beauty and with authority. I was stunned when I saw the pics. It seems pretty women are beginning to spring up in places of authority in the police force these days. Onwuanaegbu beat Ngozi in the height factor and body structure; she could have passed for a supermodel, even her glasses made her look even hotter…okay I will stop there before I start straying into talking about the other obvious body parts that men always notice.

\And while the Governor kept his face away, the guy on the extreme left apparently couldn't.

I have a 'silly' question…why are female police bosses these days always extra pretty and ‘yellow’ in complexion?

Okay, That's a hasty generalisation, I’m just goofing around, don’t mind me. I just had to put up this post ‘cause I just noticed these things people don’t usually talk about.

Or should I just say I needed to post something…and this is something, abi?

That Dirty Nigerian Vagina Song By Princess Vitarah

Chronicled by Afronuts @ Tuesday, March 01, 2016

I used to say it all the time that the internet or rather social media is where you can easily amp up yourself to become popular provided you do something very different from the usual bandwagon of activity you see every day.

The only problem with something different is that it goes both the ways of good and bad. Unfortunately according to modern day tenets of public relations in entertainment, there’s no such thing as bad publicity which means that anything controversial or fresh thing you do that creates a buzz, be it good or bad will always boost your popularity.

Rebecca Black

We have numerous case studies that have proven this - like Rebecca Black who launched her debut song and video, Friday on Youtube in 2011 and got negative feedback as the song was reputed to have stupid lyrics, autotuned, recorded and arranged on a well-orchestrated beat. But not even the beat could save the stupid lyrics. She got so much negative publicity that made her popular and turned her into an overnight celebrity.

Vic O

Okay let me even move closer to home and reference someone from Nigeria – Vic O. He is that so-called artiste who everybody knows by now and his popularity is gathered from the negative publicity he has received due to the nature of his vocal delivery and his music. If you don’t know Vic O, you need to check out his videos and songs to know what I’m talking about.

Now moving on to the reason for this post – American based rapper, Princess Vitarah recently released a music video on Youtube titled Nigerian P*ssy.  She even included the lyrics to the song in the video description area. The song, as the title already precludes, is explicit and talks about nothing but the vagina, particularly the Nigerian Vagina (Hian! I feel weird talking about this). It equally berates its Ghanaian counterpart.

Princess Vitarah in the video

I must confess that I was caught off-balance by this video. In a world where we are still trying to live with controversial figures like Maheeda and Afrocandy who are fond of shocking us unexpectedly with risqué material, Princess Vitarah springs up with this lewd presentation of rap music that’s reminiscent of the likes of Nicki Minaj’s Anaconda.

Thank God the video did not show nudity or suggest it in anyway as that would have exploded to another level. Some people have started placing her in competition with Maheeda which I don’t think is necessary as Maheeda ‘shows the lewdness’ while Princess Vitarah ‘Speaks the lewdness’. Those are two different things.

Going through her Instagram/Youtube page, I could see that she had dropped two other videos before but probably never gotten all that popular until this controversial one that is catching attention like wildfire. The reactions to her video are mixed; many are condemning her on social media for doing such, others are commending her and somewhat feeling the song.

I wouldn’t commend this because I see it as an attempt to just blow by any means irrespective of whether it’s good or bad. I see this as what desperate artistes do when they’ve run out of options – like the way they do with music videos today when there’s no tangible concept; just have women twerking while the main act sings and cavorts about.

Who did this to this kid? He's everywhere in this rotten song

Watching the video, I noticed a white kid wearing a T-shirt with something like ‘Nigerian’ written on it was dancing all about . What the hell is a little kid doing in this video that’s glorifying the lucrativeness of the female genitalia? This boy who was barely into his teens (probably 5 or 6 years old) was in most of the scenes, especially the opening scene as though he was some kind of special eye-candy. I was forced to scream out on the Youtube comment page in the fashion of the popular Vine/Instagram meme ‘WHERE’S YOUR MOTHER??

That white guy who\s happy about Nigerian Vagina...

There's also this white dude that was doing a background dancer (or is it a waka-pass?) in dark shades and danshiki who ecstactically choruses the part that says 'Naija P**y is the tightest' as though he was a part of some insane occultic orgy experience. Why was the focus on him more than those other black dudes goofing around?  Me suspects that kid is his son - can someone say PARENTING FAIL?

There’s no way this is getting played on Naija airwaves,  I can bet my life on it! It’s gonna remain on the internet only. It’s just too raw and dirty for the general public. One thing for sure is that its going to end up on Worldstarhiphop for sure. That's where explicitly amusing stuff like this end up.

The video is not spectacular anyway and was obviously low budget - if there was any budget at all. If I muted it and just watched the visuals, I wouldn’t be ‘wowed’ and would never have imagined that it’s talking about the female private part. In terms of her ability to deliver lyrics, Princess Vitarah sounds way better than Vic O. She has potential but she obviously doesn’t have lyrics. Too bad she went this route because once you start like this, you have to keep doing it to stay where it’s getting you. And believe you me, the juice eventually runs out.

If you want to see the video you can go watch it on Youtube. There’s no way I’m embedding that risque song on my page.

The Ex

Chronicled by Afronuts @ Monday, June 30, 2014

I sat still watching her.

She looked very much like when we first met; still pretty, petite and amusingly retrospective; almond shaped eyes that still glowed with the same intensity that had ignited a subtle hurricane of emotion from the dark depths of my palpitating heartbeats.

She smiled and my heart melted; nostalgic waves catapulted me down memory lane. I loved that smile and the way she always fondled my fingers in hers whenever we held hands. She loved to play with my fingers; it was one of her ways of constantly reminding me of her love for me; her soft yet small hands were a delight in my thick big ones.

Watching her at this distance was painful.

The desire to be close to her burned within me; I longed to revel once again in those sweet moments we once shared.

I felt something sting me in the right eye. It was a threatening tear.

I swallowed up the sob building within along with the ache of regret.

I wish I hadn’t done what I did back then.

**************

We met years back.

I can’t really place the timing but the picture of our meeting still remains vividly etched in my memory like it was yesterday; like a short HD movie hidden in my cerebral sands of time.

I stood at a bus stop waiting for a cab.

It was one of those inner areas on the outskirts of town where cabs and okadas were scanty and don’t show up easily. You had to wait a while before you saw one.

I was on my way to see my cousin, Priye, pertaining to a recent employment information he placed through a phone call the day before. We had maintained a steady contact after youth service despite living on the opposite sides of town.

The bus stop which consisted mainly of an inscribed signpost rusted and worn with age, stood at the edge of a tarred road which stretched out into the distance linking different communities.

Vegetation lined both sides of the road obscuring from sight houses scattered about the developing neighbourhood. It was the typical topography you’d find in many eastern states. Any first time visitor would think nobody lived in the area until he looked closely.

Occasionally a car, motorcycle or truck would pass, breaking the semi-silence of the neighbourhood and punctuated screaming of errant crickets from the bushes.

I had come along with a big umbrella as Priye had informed me before hand that it was raining on at his place. I envisaged that the weather would soon extend its tentacles down to my own side of the town.

Two minutes had passed as I waited at the stop when I saw the lone female figure emerging from one of the paths that led to one of the numerous communities scattered around the area. She was wearing a sleeveless flowery gown that stopped at her knees and a pair of wedge slippers that accentuated her height a bit.

She wore an afro hairdo on her head and sparse make-up on her face. Bracelets matching the flora design on her gown hung on her left wrist alongside a leather strapped watch. A leather handbag hung loosely on her shoulder as she strode towards the bus stop in short hurried steps.

I had expected her to walk past me but she stopped a few meters away from where I stood. She was also waiting for a cab.

She was good to look at but I made sure it wasn’t obvious by throwing my glance in the opposite direction.

A pick-up and two cars zoomed past in opposite directions as time dragged and we waited.

Then the Sky rumbled.

I looked up and noticed flashes appearing in the clouds far ahead.

A gust of wind blew picking dust and dried leaves in its path. I closed my eyes partially to avoid being visually stung by debris.

Priye was right. The darn rain was heading this way. Thank goodness I wore my thick denim jacket and had an umbrella.

Then the heavens gave way like a pregnant woman whose water just broke. It started with rapid drops that quickly gathered momentum.

It was at this point that I glanced at the young lady standing metres away from me and noticed she had nothing to protect her from the coming rain.

She had folded her arms and was looking worriedly at the sky confused at what to do. Then she looked in my direction, a bothered frown creasing her face.

I held up the big umbrella, snapped it open and motioned her to come and join me under it.

Thankfully she hurried up to stand with me under the umbrella.

All around us the raindrops began thrashing the dust, dirt and asphalt on the long stretching road; wind blew almost hoisting her gown which she held down cautiously.  She was actually having a hard time doing that because she needed to fold her arms to keep warm at the same time. The sleeveless nature of her gown didn’t help matters.

I felt for her.

A merciless rainfall was enough to dampen any good-looking girls pride and prestige.

Ignited by a gentlemanly instinct, I took off my jacket and offered it to her.

She gave me a surprised look and declined with the mien that she was taking too much from me. I insisted, telling her that the rest of my clothing was thick enough to keep me warm.

She looked at the jacket as though she was reluctant but I could see in her eyes how she longed to get into it. I didn’t wait for her to eventually decide and quickly draped it over her shoulders.

She was thankful and the sincerity was rife on her face and in her voice.

As the rain gathered more momentum, there was need for us to draw closer to each other under the umbrella in order to escape intruding drops that splashed about and threatened to hit us beneath the umbrella.

I had to put my hand round her shoulder to en able me hold the umbrella more comfortably and also to allow more covering for her than for me.

In our moment of closeness, I could perceive the sweet scent of her hair oil along with another nice scent which I couldn’t be sure if it was a deodorant, powder or body cream. She had a petite figure which made it easy for me to shield her from much of the rain.

The closeness of our bodies seemed to generate some heat; a welcome development in the growing chilly condition around us.

I’ve often heard that during rainy seasons human hormones are affected somewhat to want to copulate or engage in some sort of physical affinity. I can’t say if this is true or if that was the case in this scenario but as the rain got worse, we got closer…and it was beginning to feel uncomfortably good.

I asked her where she was headed to divert our consciousness from the unusual close positioning, and also to determine what to call at the first cab that showed up. It turned out we were headed the same way.

Eventually a cab arrived and we got in quickly.

It was evident throughout the journey that the rain was heavy everywhere.

I decided that she take the umbrella and my jacket home and return it to Priye’s address the following day.

She declined again, shocked at the extent to which I was sacrificing my comfort for hers. I reassured her that it was nothing and got her to agree.

She was very thankful and promised to bring them back.

And she did.

And it led to the beginning of a relationship.

**************

I sat still watching her. My eyes travelled over her face, her eyes, shiny cheekbones and thin yet vibrant mouth.

Yes. She really did look very much like that first day we had met, though more matured.

It would have turned out to become a good relationship if I hadn’t gotten carried away by the juicy job offer that suddenly came my way later; a job for which I sacrificed our relationship while thinking that I’d meet ‘better’ girls later on.

I would later lose that job after being implicated in a scandal with a female senior manager who set me up for sexual assault after I refused to give in to her seductions and invitations for after-hour romps in her office.

It hurt to think of what I’d lost with the job – the official car, material benefits, allowances…

But now…it hurt more to think of the relationship I’d sacrificed for the job.

And now, here she was before my eyes; her life totally changed, surrounded by glamour and fame while I struggled with an income twice lower than the initial job – poverty, threatening to make mincemeat out of me every passing day.

This was my punishment for living life carelessly on the fast lane.

I took one last look at her on the TV screen as she beautifully played out her role in a high budget Nollywood flick before picking up the remote and switching off the set. I then strolled out onto the balcony of my rented mini-flat to gaze at the full moon in the night sky.

It glowed back at me like a medal of shame awarded to me for my bad decisions in life.

I remembered that rainy evening when we were in the cab and she was about to alight. The rain had reduced to spastic drizzles, a rather safer intensity. The clouds had cleared and night had crept in to reveal a lovely full moon in the sky.

That day, it glowed like a medal of achievement for me; a medal of discovering love that would last…if I allowed it.

Before she came down from the cab, she had turned to me on a sudden realization.

‘You never told me your name.’

I smiled at her thoughtfulness. In the whole melee of escaping the weather from bus stop to cab, we had never thought of exchanging our names.

‘I’m Richard…and you?’

She returned the smile, sweeter than mine.

‘I’m Genevieve…Genevieve Nnaji.’

Cheater's Choice

Chronicled by Afronuts @ Wednesday, June 25, 2014

Packaged breasts

Showcased skins

Endless legs

Merciless minis

Questioning butts

Answering thighs

Now showing for viewing pleasure

Ruining the essence of decency

Awakening urges from complacency

Endangering the purity of innocence

Conjuring waves of erotic presence

Still, responsibility is to be

The choice made by the temptee

Some see but don’t look

And thus remain safe by the book

Some look because they saw

And thus broke purity’s code and law

Ventured on a skirted quest

Ravaged breasts

Caressed skins

Tired legs

Discarded minis

Querying butts

Suffered thighs

Enraptured lust of damning interest

Explored valleys of wet sin

Scaled mountains of hard peaks

Sailing seas of forbidden ecstasy

Awoken to the moment of truth

Wallow in throes of a throbbing conscience

Been where you shouldn’t

Done what you shouldn’t

Temptation’s victory

Your shameful defeat

Infidelity claws depths of the flesh

Spirited in filth that’ll never wash

Only by redemption

Graced by salvation

For the moment

While sinfully incumbent

Stew in transgression

With self loathing aggression

All because…

Just because…

The choice to look what you saw

The choice to break the coded law

 ©Afronuts 8/7/2013

 

You Won't Believe What These Beauties Have in Common [Photo]

Chronicled by Afronuts @ Saturday, June 14, 2014

Take a good look at the cute ladies in the picture collage.

They all have one thing in common.

Can you guess what that is?

Scroll down if you can't guess...

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Could it be that they all dated the same men?

Nahhh...scroll down....

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Could it be that they are all video vixens?

Errr....nope. Scroll down...

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Could it be that they are all Call girls from the same organisation?

Hmmm....naah! Scroll further....

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Still haven't figured it out yet?

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You're almost there!

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What do these ladies all have in common?

They were all MEN!

Yep....transgenders!

This is a sign to all guys to be alert and careful with anything that calls itself a woman. They are blurring the lines so well, we are being deceived like dogs to the slaughter.

*Sigh"

Lol...I know you just scrolled back! Unbelievable isn't it?