Category Archives: Comedy

Fate of the Curious by Chiedozie Ude.

‘Curiosity, they say kills the cat’. I have often taken that statement for granted until I allowed dear Mr. Experience to teach me an unforgettable lesson.

I was in a new school and because I resumed late, I had a plethora of notes to copy, legions of them. Concentrating on my task which was writing and eating ‘guguru ati epa’ (groundnut and popcorn) without a care in the world, I ignored most of the activities going on around me, in fact I was oblivious to my environment.

One fateful afternoon, we were having everyone’s favorite subject which was ‘free period’, and the whole class relished every minute of it.

As the norm was, is and would be, free periods are periods when students show their unintellectual traits— that is, a time for the display of chronic madness. Yours truly was busy trying to update his literature note when the hullabaloo started. Screams! Grunts! Moans!, tables falling and people cheering. ‘What the hell was going on?’ I asked myself. ‘Concentrate on updating your notes,’ a still voice said.

I tried to shut my ears to the cacophony which had become more raucous and vociferous. From the little I could decipher from the madness which was threatening to bring down the whole school, two gals were fighting (names withheld because it is a matter of national security) and which for analytical purposes, I’ll call X and Y. Whatever was the cause of the fight, I still do not know, but from the ecstatic cheers the boys were giving, it must have been a wonderful opportunity for many of them to feel the fighting ladies ‘uhhhm’ fleshy characteristics (forget my euphemism, you know what I mean ‘lol’).

I was not watching, but slowly, my excitement was climaxing, I had to satisfy my eyes by watching the belligerents live. The still voice came again, warning me to ignore whatever was going on, but I ignored it. After all, I just wanted to feed my eyes for a minutes. So, I abandoned my books, after all, there would be time to update them later. I began squabbling with members of the crowd so as to get an ‘HD’ view of the proceedings. I got my reward because I stumbled to the front….

All of a sudden, everything went black in my left eye, I could not see and I felt a burning pain there. Oh my gosh! ‘What just happened?’
One of the fighting gals decided it was time to turn the tables on her adversary by stoning her, and fortunately for her opponent and unfortunately for yours truly, she missed and the stone hit my left eye point blank. That ended the fight because I heard someone screaming pitifully and it took me a while to realise that I was the person.

I stayed at home for the next two days due to the blinding pain

I learnt a big lesson that day, learn to curb your curiosity


Foreseeing the Future: Diary of a Pure Evil Demon: By Chiedozie Ude.

*Taekwondo Trainee*

Being a tall dude has a lot of perks. It is often expected of tall guys to have their way; they are automatically expected to be physically strong and imposing; they are seen as the most suitable for leadership positions; and the climatic point of it all is that they have the first pick when it comes to dating girls. As a result of these perks, it is not uncommon for those who stopped growing quick to look at taller people with envy. Well, I am not writing this to sing the praises of tall guys, rather, I intend using this write-up to discuss a particular problem faced by tall guys all over the world. This problem is called “OVERCONFIDENCE!!!”

Taking a journey down the Memory Lane to a day I will never forget even if I live for a thousand years on earth. I was a six-year-old primary two kid in a new school. The only thing I loved about the school was its playground. The playground was a child’s paradise. It had a lot of toys; swings— or “Jangulova” as we called them back then; and a plethora of other fun facilities which made my school the object of envy of other schools. Books were like banned drugs to me, and being a lover of social justice, I vehemently said a big “NO!” to books, imitating the popular slogan “Say No To Drugs.”

As an ardent hater of classroom learning, I found solace in the playground and other extra curricular activities such as the violent sport called “TAEKWONDO”. I still recall the way we punched the air and screamed “TAEKWONDO” whenever our master requested us to do so. Now, I was taller than my mates, and could easily trounce most of them in a fair fight. But this turned out to be my Achilles heel because I became a cocky six-year-old asshole. I felt that height was the definition of “macholiness”, but I was in for a rude awakening.

Our Taekwondo master was not a regular teacher in the school, hence, he did not know the different classes which the members of his club belonged. As a result of his ignorance, sparring partners were selected based on size and not class. I was in the category reserved for the big boys because of my height. I was chuffed. As a lover of violence, I always volunteered myself for every sparring contest, especially when I was taller than my opponent. A silly thing to do huh?

One fateful Wednesday, during sport period, the master brought out a very short and pale looking boy in primary four. I still remember his accursed name “Tunde”. He had legs like those of a malnourished goat, and his face like a squashed mango fruit. His knuckles were so tiny that I felt they would break into a trillion pieces if he managed to punch my healthy skin. I even remember calling him a small boy when he once entered my class. I was pretty certain that I would beat the living daylights out of him to the extent that he would need an ambulance. With these thoughts in mind, I quickly offered to challenge him, and in fact, I jumped into the fighting circle, smiling foolishly. I was about to commit murder!

Few seconds into the fight, I was already taking a pummeling because Tunde was giving me the beating of my life. He must have remembered the time I called him a small boy because he was hitting me with so much anger and malice— “Malevolent cunt!” I was pretty certain that I was not the person screaming “Please leave me!” Well, to cut the long story short, Tunde gave me my first black eye. Funnily enough, all these happened in less than a minute — that is, the longest less-than-a-minute of my six years of existence. The master sent me to the sick bay for treatment, but I only discovered that I wore my right shoe on my left leg when I got home.

In conclusion, never overrate your height.

ENG 116 PUTS ME IN TROUBLE: By Opeyemi Adesokan

Opeyemi writes; FACTION
As I went home for Easter, I met a old friend of mine who studies English in OAU. She is in 100level too, she does Introduction to Language but she never understands the course. When she said, ‘Only human beings use language and only human beings communicate,’ I strongly disagreed. Then I told her that according to my lecturers, Dr Alimi and Adepoju, everything in this life could communicate. Table communicates, a class room communicates, animal communicates, food communicates.

The problem actually began when she asked, ‘does human body communicate?’ I wanted to say ‘Yes’ but she went closer to the door, shadowed if anyone was at sight, closed evey nook and crannies that could be oblivion, came back to where I was seated and stripped of herself nakedly. She, then, asked ‘Do I communicate to you now?’ My mouth was shut up with two seductive kisses. We pushed the ‘Language and Linguistics’ textbook aside, followed were some relishing caresses and we began to communicate with romance. I wanted to stop that kind of communication but that was out of my control. Out of stupid ‘Eng 116’, out of blinded emotion, I gave in completely. All I saw were the glossy laps of hers resting tentatively on my shoulder that went up and down like a bicycle pump. On Easter Monday, I met that my friend again, her stomach was protruding and I was scared that I had to ask her what went wrong.

She said, ‘Don’t you know that my stomach is communicating?’ Apparently, I knew what she meant; she was pregnant. How, why and when questions paraded my mind. I knew it was all my fault but actually it was Dr Adepoju and Alimi that propelled it. When I got to school that very Tuesday we resumed, I went to Dr Apepoju’s office, naked myself in his office, dangled left and right like a pendulum then I said with seethed annoyance, ‘You must explain how I communicate!’ He looked at me and said, ‘Well, your communication shows Madness.’ Head broken, glasses fallen, neck strangled, I cleaned him off further transgression.


• A 40-year-old man is suing his parents for destroying his pornography collection, which was so large it filled a dozen moving boxes.

• His parents discovered the materials after he was removed from their home for unspecified reasons.

source : BIZPAC review

• He is seeking a $90,000 compensatory award in federal court.

A 40-year-old Indiana man is suing his parents in federal court for destroying his gargantuan collection of pornography, the value of which he placed at $30,000.

In the interest of privacy, The Daily Caller News Foundation has chosen not to publish the lawsuit itself, or identify those involved.


“We counted twelve moving boxes full of pornography plus two boxes of sex toys as you call them,” the defendant wrote in a January 2018 email to his son, the plaintiff. “We began that day the process of destroying them and it took quite a while to do so.”

Among the plaintiff’s materials were videos depicting bestiality, incest, rape, torture and urination. An itemized list of titles, sex toys and other possessions appended to the lawsuit runs 17 pages.

The dispute began in August 2017, when the plaintiff was expelled from the family home for unspecified reasons. Documents appended to the lawsuit indicate the plaintiff was removed from the premises by local authorities. The plaintiff lived with his parents for a 10-month period following his divorce. He was intermittently homeless before moving in with the defendants.

Email traffic exchanged between the parties shows that the defendants discovered and destroyed the pornography collection shortly after the plaintiff was barred from the house. Sporadic communication continued through 2018.

“I find your whole attitude toward women to be very disturbing,” the defendant wrote in a January 2018 email. “Women are not objects for you to masturbate with, they are people created by God just as you were and should be treated with respect and dignity.”

“Believe it or not, one reason for why I destroyed your porn was for your own mental and emotional heath,” the defendant added. “I would have done the same if I had found a kilo of crack cocaine. Someday, I hope you will understand.”

For his part, the plaintiff claimed his parents were distorting the sequence of events. By his telling, the plaintiff shared his intentions to bring pornography into the family home over dinner in 2015. Whatever moral outrage his parents felt at the material, the plaintiff continued, destruction of property was not the proper course.


A young man has been caught after he disguised himself as a girl so he can steal panties at Ekiti State University.


A video has emerged showing the moment a young man was paraded after being caught disguising as a girl.

Local reports show that the incident happened at the Ekiti State University.

The young man reportedly went into the school disguised as a girl so that he can steal panties belonging to female students.

However, while at it, he was apprehended and handed over to security officials.


I was teaching Literature when Ebube Musheme came into the class. Ebube was the most hunky student I had ever seen. He was tall and fat simultaneously like someone who had carried weight all through his life. Ebube’s voice alone could make a timorous student cry and make an elderly person run helter skelter. Ebube’s chests were bouncy and hefty. I always thought I was huge but Ebube proved that thought wrong.
When he came into the class, I thought he was a teacher and I started introducing him to all the seated students. As I told him to go to the staff room to greet the remaining teachers, he laughed tauntingly and said, ” I am a student sir. Where should I sit?”
I never believed Ebube was a student till he showed me his books and materials. I ordered him to sit at the back, since the front space had been occupied, and I continued my teaching. The next thing that happened was that, one of the students sitting at the back raised his hand. I thought he wanted to ask questions not knowing he wanted to report. He said, “Uncle, Ebube broke my pen.” I wondered how could a 10 mins new comer commit such atrocity. I kept the little boy shut, ignored his report then continued with my teaching. Another girl raised her hand from the back seat.
“Yes, any questions?”, I asked. ” Sir, Ebube stepped on me intentionally,” she said.
That time around, I was vexed. I
commanded Ebube to stand then I said, ‘Ebu! Eb! Ebube, what happened nah? You should respect yourself o. Why are you troubling them?’
‘No mind them Jare, they no wan no play. I go give them slap now if they report again’, Ebube said with a masculine voice.
‘If they report you again, I may be forced to discipline you, too. Is that understood?’ I said annoyingly.
‘Uncle, shey you dey whine me ni? Nah you wan beat me abi? Let’s see. If they born them well, may them report,’ Ebube said disrespectedly. I was afraid deep within me. I did as if I didn’t hear what Ebube said even though other students exclaimed; ‘Ah! Uncle, don’t you hear him?’
My prayer was that, no students should report him again till I finished my Literature class and get out. As I was
rushing my lectures, a stupid boy whose name I still remember, Ibrahim, raised his hand from the back.
‘Uncleeeee! Ebube poured ink on my new school uniform. My mummy will kill me.’ Pa! Pa! Ebube lashed him slaps. Glasses fell from my eyes, piece of chalk thrown down, then I moved closer to Ebube with fears in my heart, I successfully returned the two slaps. Ebube came out of the tightened chair, his eyes reddened with revenge, drew nearer to me, sniffed in terror, then….

Episode continues!

*Baba Ijebu* By Chiedozie Ude

*’Mama and papa dem they play baba Ijebu,’ unknown singer.*

I see myself as a pretty smart guy, but there is one thing I have never been able to figure out. That one thing is the intricacies of the lottery game called ‘Baba Ijebu’. What baffles me the most about the game is how the so called uneducated men and women sit or rather stand in front of a wooden shack (they never use a good shop, and I have no idea why because I feel they should be millionaires since they say it’s very lucrative) where the game is being played and delicately perform staggering feats of calculation. They would mention so many numbers and be like ‘Ele ma wole’ (this one go enter). If only they paid close attention to mathematics while at school, I guess Nigeria could have been a Nation with a plethora of world class mathematicians.

Where did I enter this madness? Yesterday, yes, just yesterday, a close friend of mine called me from his place of work, and told me that he was about to send some numbers to me, and that I should go and place a bet on them because he could not leave work to do so. Being naturally paranoid and difficult, I said no at first because I do not gamble and secondly because I’ve known this dude for seven years and we’ve never done something like this. But after a long conversation on the phone, I agreed to his harebrained scheme because he declared his coworker allegedly saw some numbers in his dream, and also, winning was certain. So, I reluctantly decided to sacrifice my DEAR HUNDRED NAIRA note.

‘Walahi, if this game no enter, you go refund me,’ I said. ‘Shame no gree me go vendor play am’ so I sent someone else to place the bet for me. As fate would have it, the person also did not understand the intricacies of the game.

This evening, I received a call and my friend said ‘Omo, two numbers enter o, we don chop 4k,’ I was like wow, let’s go and cash out and my guy jokingly said he’d refund the money I used to play it. ‘Ogbeni, no play rough play with me,’ I said, narrowing my eyes dangerously.

We cashed out, split the money and immediately, another man came to meet us saying ‘my dear brothers, I see numbers for dream’.

Chai!! Nigerians
Lol, that one na for him pocket, “money wey we just win u want make we invest am again. We no do, thank you”