NIGERIA’S FIRST BUSINESS REALITY TV SHOW SEARCHES FOR THE NEXT TITAN

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Hey guys, remember I told you about the NEXT TITAN REALITY SHOW and that my friend Tunji Akande is on it. If you’ve been following the program on TV, you’ll know that they have been put into groups, and their task this week, is to generate publicity for the program online: Twitter, Facebook, Blogs, 2go, Ebuddy, Jumia, Tatafo, Dindindara (lol)…we need to get this out anywhere and everywhere.
And I reckon that’s a piece of cake when I have you guys, right? Please follow the show, cast your votes and let them know where you heard this from. You can tweet
This is the official Press Release from the organizers:

PRESS RELEASE
For the first time, Nigerian television is centered on young business people and how they tackle entrepreneurial and business challenges.
The top 16 contestants come from across the country and their businesses are as diverse as they are. However, they have one thing in common; they are all out to win the top prize of 5 million Naira, a brand new car and lasting business support from some of Nigeria’s top business moguls.
It is indeed a Herculean battle…
The youngest contestant is Jubril Juma, who at 22 wants to start up a road traffic monitoring system to help you make better route decisions as you commute, while the oldest is 35-year-old Williams Oti from Rivers state who has a plan to start-up a talent school and help young people turn their talents into skill and business.
Also on the show, meet Izizi Okpala who is interested in making your gadgets look beautiful and Tunji Akande who’s jewelry pieces will blow you away. As a matter of fact, you’ll find some of his pieces on the necks, wrists and ankles of several of the contestants, including Tobechi Nneji who is an On Air personality with 92.5 Enugu’s Dream FM. She has the plan to start up a trade and PR fair in South Eastern Nigeria.

Every week, watch how the contestants work their way through tasks, slug it out in the boardroom and sometimes, turn on their ‘best friends’ in the race to win.
16 contestants from all around the country…13 weeks of friendship, rivalry, love, drama, quarrels and money making…13 weeks of business….one big winner! It has all the suspense of a blockbuster movie.
Get a favourite housemate, support your favourite idea and learn the intricacies of entrepreneurship.
Catch the show, every weekend on the following channels
- Channels Tv(Dstv 254) 8pm – 9pm Saturdays
- OnTv 6pm – 7pm Sundays
Visit http://www.thenexttitan.blogspot.com , http://www.thenexttitan.com to read more about the contestant and follow @thenexttitan and the tag #TitanNG on twitter for quick information and some behind-the-scene gist from the show and the google hangout with some of the contestants.
Vote for your favourite contestant via SMS- text ‘Titan’ (space) ‘Contestant’s name’ to 33352. SMS’ cost N50 each.

Please vote for my good friend and creative mind, Tunji Akande with this code: “TITAN Tunji Akande” to 33352.
Thanks.
TNTV

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COSTLY MISTAKE (PART TWO)

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Three weeks later, Dayo was seated in the reception area of the governor’s private house. Even though the air conditioner was on full blast, his palms were sweaty. The governor was known to be a no nonsense moralist, and since it was his first time of meeting the governor, he was scared out of his wits as he wasn’t sure of how he would be received.
Aisha had told her father about the pregnancy two weeks before, and even though he had been initially disappointed and angry, he later agreed to marry them off in a low key ceremony and dispatch them abroad.
However, the meeting went well, as the governor was deeply in love with Aisha, and as it was also evident that Aisha was in love with Dayo, the governor had no choice but to love him as well.
The governor only asked him one question. “Do you really love my daughter, or you wanted to ‘chop and clean mouth?’” he asked bluntly.
Dayo was taken aback but he managed to respond, “I love Aisha from the depth of my heart, and I have never loved any other like I love her,” he gushed.
This seemed to please the governor, and he put his arms round Dayo. “You seem like a nice son…in law. Champagne or red wine?” he asked.

When Dayo got home that night, he was in an elated mood.
“Hey baby, how is my other baby doing?” he asked Ifeoma who was lying on the bed reading a novel.
“Very well,” she replied with a smile. “Maybe you should come pat it and say something nice to it.”
He moved closer to her and kissed her stomach. “Guess what baby, good news!”
“What is that? You know, I’m not good at guessing. Just tell me, please,”
“We’ll go and see your parents next week,” he announced and she squealed for joy.
“Wow, that’s incredible. I’m so happy. I’m going to prepare your best meal for you,” she leapt out of the bed.
“Don’t bother yourself baby. I don’t want any stress for you in this condition o…nothing must happen to my baby. Are any of your neighbours around?” he asked.
“No. They’ve all travelled to Lagos nah. We’re the only ones here,” she said.
“That’s good. It means we have the place to ourselves. We can have a party,” he said and reached into his bag. He brought out a bottle of non- alcoholic wine and went to get two cups from the kitchen.
He poured the wine and discretely slipped a green pill into the one meant for Ifeoma. “Hey baby, don’t worry about the food. I’m okay. Let’s just take our wine and fall asleep together ehn…like we used to,” he called out to her.
She came back to the couch and took a generous sip of the wine. And just like the pharmacist had said, within a frame of two minutes, she had gone into a spasm, foaming in the mouth. She looked at him with fear and helplessness in her eyes as life eased out of her gradually.
Dayo hurriedly packed the glass cups they had been drinking with, and emptied the remaining content down the sink. He thereafter washed the cups and put them in their proper place. He tucked the half drained bottle of wine inside his bag, and arranged Ifeoma’s remains on the bed to make her look like she was sleeping.
He also made sure there were no traces left behind to indicate that he was in the house that night. He cast one last look at his ex-lover and marched out of the house.
He already had his alibi prepared. Before coming to her house, he had branched at his own room and made sure that everybody saw him. He also made sure that the stereo was blaring loudly so that even people who lived in other houses around could testify that he was home all through the night.
After the deed had been done, he quietly slipped back into the room. He hadn’t planned to kill Ifeoma, but he was left with no other option. With his life about to change for the better as the governor’s in-law, he couldn’t allow for any scandal to drag him back. He blamed Ifeoma for forcing him to kill her. If only she had agreed to abort the damn baby, then all these wouldn’t have happened, he reasoned.
Well, they say, the source of wealth is usually dirty. Ifeoma’s death was his own dirt. He had to move on.

The news of Ifeoma’s death spread round campus like wild fire. Fortunately for him, no one linked her death to Dayo. She was found dead in her room the next day by one of her neighbours who returned from Lagos. It was speculated that she died of a terrible convulsion as there was foam and some other secretion all over her bed.
Dayo was sure that if an autopsy was conducted, nothing incriminating would be found as the pharmacist had assured him that the drug would completely dissolve into her bloodstream.

Mr. Aladegbohungbe, Dayo’s father, tilted his cap to the left and smiled to the mirror. Today of all days, he didn’t want to look ‘off.’ As the governor’s in-law, he wanted to look his best so people would know he was also fashionable in his own right; well deserving to be the ‘first in-law’ of the state.
Even though they had initially planned a low-key wedding, the associates of the governor would have none of it. Many of them had undertaken to shoulder the financial responsibility of the entire party and as such, Dayo’s family didn’t spend a Kobo. Even their wedding attires were paid for by the governor’s friends.
Mr. Aladegbohungbe was mighty proud of his son. Who would have thought that the boy would bring the family such honour and glory? All his relatives were happy as he had been automatically transformed to the breadwinner of the family.
He checked his watch for the umpteenth time that day. A lot of guests were already seated in the church.
“Iya Dayo, let’s go o, or else I’ll leave you here. You’ve been tying and retying that headtie for the past 2 hours. Our guests are waiting now. And the governor and the bride are on their way already,” he said to his wife who was with him in the church vestry.
“I’m almost set dear. Just a few more minutes,” she answered. She was also flushed with joy at her son’s glorious day.
A lot of dignitaries were in attendance at the church and it was clear that the wedding would be the talk of the town for a very long time to come.
Everything went smoothly, according to plan and soon, it was time for the pastor to join the couple in matrimony.
After reading the marriage vows, the pastor asked, “Is anybody here who has reasons why this couple should not be joined together in matrimony? Speak now, or forever hold your peace,”
There was a pin drop silence in the hall, as heads turned round the hall as if daring anyone to speak. When it was obvious no one was objecting to the marriage, the pastor attempted to move on, but there was an uproar at the entrance of the church. The pastor looked up to see a girl being brought in a wheelchair.
“Pastor, you cannot join this couple together. That man is a murderer,” Ifeoma shouted in pain. As if on cue, the church exploded into a cacophony of voices, with everybody attempting to speak at once.
Dayo went pale at the sight of Ifeoma and he could feel his pants getting soaked as he wet himself involountarily.
“Dayo impregnated me, and also poisoned me and left me for dead. But my God that never sleeps has a purpose for my life, and he saved me from the clutches of death. My friend here,” she said, pointing to the girl who wheeled her in, “she met me in a coma and rushed me to the hospital where I was revived after five days. We pretended that I was dead so this hideous animal called Dayo wouldn’t come back to finish his evil job. You must not marry this couple. It’s a sin in the eyes of God and the law,” she finished in nerve wracking sobs.
The governor was aghast and embarrassed on his seat as all the cameras of the press men invited for the wedding focused on him (He had once declared on National TV that his administration wouldn’t condone any violence against women, and the crowd wanted to see his reaction in this issue involving his own daughter). He looked to the Inspector General (IG) of Police who was seated by his side. He got up abruptly and snatched the microphone from the pastor.
“I want everybody here to know that I had no hand in this. I am deeply embarrassed and saddened by the statement of this innocent young girl, and I can assure you, if this young man,” he paused and favoured Dayo with an acerbic look, “If this man is found guilty, he will face the full wrath of the law.
“I apologise to all my friends and relatives for putting you all through this. I’m handing Dayo over to the IG right now,” he said and dropped the microphone on the altar.
His aides rushed to him and led him and his family, including a weeping Aisha, out of the church. When he was seated in his Range Rover, he beckoned on the IG. “I want that boy properly dealt with. He must pay for what he did to that poor girl, and also for embarrassing my family. He made a COSTLY MISTAKE and he must pay for it!” He declared and ordered his convoy to move off.
The IG ordered his men to seize Dayo, while Ifeoma was taken to the National Hospital for further treatment on the governor’s bill.

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COSTLY MISTAKE (PART ONE)

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At the beginning, if it was possible for Dayo to cut out his heart and give it to Ifeoma, if only to win her love, then he’d have done it without hesitating. He did everything possible. He took advice from magazines; from friends, and even radio and TV presenters, and at last, his prayers had been answered.

He met her on his third day on campus. Freshers like him were jostling to complete their registration, and get on with school life. There was a lot of lighthearted banter on that day as the students queued up in front of the ‘Admin’ complex to get their papers signed. A slight rain had fallen earlier in the morning, and as such, there were muddy puddles on the floor.

He was laughing with friends and sharing anecdotes too, when like an eclipse, his total attention was seized by an angelic looking girl who walked shyly towards them. She was putting on a white shirt and slacks, but it was obvious she had fallen down somewhere as there was a gigantic brown stain forming an amoebic map on the seat of her buttocks.

She attempted to enter the line saying, “I was here before, but when they were rushing, I fell down and had to go and clean myself up.”

“Story,” a guy responded instantly from the back. “You better go to the back of the line, because I didn’t meet you here when I came. Besides, I didn’t come here to sell groundnuts,”

“It’s not only front, its back. You don’t even need to queue, just go into the office straight. You think we that are here are fools, right?” a dark skinned and plump girl who had her shoulders humped like a tomboy retorted.

“Oh boy, if you allow am enter there ehn…na your space be that o,” a guy who looked to be in his early thirties (and as such older than the rest of them) said to the guy whom the girl claimed to be in front.

“This is so unfair. I was here before,” she began sobbing.

And suddenly, just like a heroic voice from the clear blue skies, “You can take my place.”

Till this day, even Dayo can’t explain what propelled him to talk. He didn’t even know he had spoken…all he knew was that, from the instant he set eyes on her, he couldn’t bear to watch her suffer; even if it was to his own detriment.

His friends had laughed him to scorn. They had taunted him and cursed him out for betraying some kind of weird “guy code.” But Dayo had beckoned to the girl, and stood aside as he gave up his space for her.

But just then, a woman who had been watching the whole episode from her office, stepped out and addressed the students.

“You students aren’t nice at all. What happened to your manners? For the boys among you; don’t you have sisters at home? This is the only boy that could come to her rescue; even the girls here stood by doing nothing. I’m ashamed of you all,” she said.

She took Dayo and Ifeoma with her to the office, and got their papers signed for them ahead of anybody else on the queue. That marked the beginning of what would turn out to be a whirlwind of a romance.

After that day, they did everything together. On occasions when it was possible, he asked her to stay back and did the work all alone. The school was an off- campus arrangement, and so he took it upon himself to sort her accommodation. They went looking for a suitable house together, and when they finally got one, he called some of his friends, and painted it in white, pink, and orange. It was a gay splash of colours and it seemed to have a life of its own, which made them name it ROOM OF LIFE.

All through their year one and two, they won numerous awards as best couple on campus, and everybody took it for granted that they were heading straight for the altar.

However, things took a dramatic turn when they were in their 4th year in school. Dayo had gone with his cousin (who was a fresher) to his class. By virtue of his involvement with the Student Union Government (SUG), Dayo had gotten quite popular and a lot of the students hailed him in admiration. He soaked it all up, waving back to them like a politician. He also put his hands round his cousin’s shoulder; a sign that the boy was untouchable.

All of a sudden, a very fat girl, surrounded by a retinue of girls, materialized in his front. She stretched her hands, and Dayo was insulted. He felt he was the one that should initiate the handshake.

“I’m pleased to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you…” she said, undeterred by his rudeness.

“Okay. Thank you. See you later.” He said as he hurriedly moved on. “See wash,” he said to his cousin.

“Abi, don’t mind her. But you know, you’re a celebrity on this campus now, so it’s normal. And that girl is the governors daughter o,” the boy replied.

“What?!” Dayo said. “Governor of which state, town or village?”

“Ibadan of course. Jokes apart, her father is the executive governor of Oyo state. Forget about her appearance o bros, that girl is a real wealthy girl.”

“Uhm,” Dayo nodded and walked on.

 

Two weeks later, Dayo was at a friend’s party with Ifeoma; they were having fun drinking, dancing and just partying the night away, when he sighted the governor’s daughter with some of her friends.

He later found a way to excuse himself from Ifeoma and her friends; he cornered the girl by the balcony of another flat in the house.

He placed a firm grip on her arms from behind and pulled her away from her friends. “Hello. I’m sorry for my rudeness the other day; I was just in a bad mood.” he said.

“Ok, I’ve heard. Can I go now,” the girl said and walked away.

Dayo attempted to go after her; thought better of it, and turned back. But the thoughts of the girl lingered in his mind.

As fate would have it, he met her two weeks later in the cafeteria. She was seated all alone with a sad expression on her face. He approached her cautiously.

“Hello,” he ventured.

“Leave me alone; I’m not in the mood for anything now, just leave me alone,” she said.

“I can see you’re troubled. It shows all over your countenance, but why don’t you share it with me? You know, a problem shared is a problem solved.”

She thawed a little, and he took a seat beside her. She said her mother wanted her to go out of the country to continue her education, but that she preferred to stay in the country.

Dayo began to convince her. He made her see reason as to why she should continue living in Nigeria as a princess, rather than to go overseas and live like one of the masses.

After about thirty minutes, her countenance lifted dramatically. “Thanks, you’re God sent. It was really wonderful talking to you,” she said.

“Oh, it’s no bother. Just make sure that you do everything I told you. You must be adamant, and also put pressure on your dad. Don’t let your mother sell you into slavery,” he said. He later walked her to the front of the restaurant and hailed a bike for her. Before she got on, she said, “Please, can I have your phone number?”

“Yes,” Dayo replied coolly. “Don’t mind me, I should have asked for yours. I was just carried away with your problem.” Inwardly, his gonads wanted to burst with excitement. The ball had been set in motion.

 

 

After that day, Dayo began to see more of Aisha. She literarily spoiled him with cash and different gifts.

On his part, he was always ready to offer a listening ear to any of her woes, ranging from a mosquito that bit her, to a lecturer that was rude to her. But he never spoke to her about love. It was evident that Aisha wanted to date him, but he never broached the topic with her. Unknown to her, his loud silence on that particular issue was part of his grand plan.

 

One day, Aisha was discussing with her friends and Dayo’s issue came up. They were seated in a circle on Aisha’s bed and there was a bottle of Red Label Whisky in their middle, its contents drained by half.

“Aisha, what’s up with Dayo now. You have to be sharp o…don’t just let that guy go like that,” Olabunmi, one of her friends, said.

“Come on girls, it’s not my fault. I’ve tried all I can, but the bobo doesn’t just understand all my eye and body language,” Aisha moaned.

 “This is not time for subtlety; you have to push it in his face that you want him. Some of these guys can be slow at reading signals. You have to seduce him at all costs. That guy is the dream of most girls on this campus; and who should have him but you. Just get him to have sex with you, and the rest will be history,” Esther aka sharp Benin girl said.

 

Later that evening, after the Red Label had been drained; Aisha was feeling bolder than usual. There was no power supply, so she put on her generator; pulled the curtains tight and slotted in a MP3 of “Cool Blues.”

She reached for her phone and called Dayo. “Hello dear, please can I see you,” she said in a very soft and sexy voice.

“Okay,” Dayo replied, and rivulets of joy ran through her entire body.

Forty-five minutes later, Dayo knocked on her door. “Come in,” she cooed.

She was dressed in a transparent negligee with nothing underneath.

“What’s the problem?” Dayo asked. “You were sounding down on the phone.”

“It’s nothing, just that I wanted to see you. Your thoughts have been running through my mind, and I feel cold. I want you to warm me up,” she said, moving close to him and reaching for his neck.

“Aisha, are you sure you’re alright? I can perceive alcohol on your breath. Take it easy,” he said.

“I’m okay. You’re the only thing wrong with me…I need you to make me feel like a woman,” she held him tightly to her bosom.

“Uhm…Aisha…I…” was the last thing he muttered before he was admitted to bliss.

 

Meanwhile, Ifeoma had noticed the closeness between Dayo and Aisha and she wasn’t pleased with it. A lot of her friends kept telling her stories of how they always saw Dayo with the girl on campus.

They had several fights over the issue, and Dayo repeatedly assured her that there was nothing between them.

“Ifeoma, I swear, there is nothing between me and the girl. I’m just like a big brother to her. And besides, you know her father is a governor; she could benefit us in major ways,” he said.

“Forget about her. Other people can help as well…I have a bad feeling about her. I don’t want you to have anything to do with her again,” she dissolved in tears and hugged her pillow tight.

“Don’t take it that way dear. You know I love you dearly, and our relationship has been on for so long. I wouldn’t jeopardize it for anything,” he said and gathered her in his arms.

“I will never hurt you my baby,” he said as he planted damp kisses all over her face. “Don’t listen to what your friends are saying. Not all of them are happy with our relationship, and they just want to see us crash,” he said as he unhooked her blouse.

“I’m just so scared. I can’t bear to lose you,” she confessed as she interred his head in her bosom.

 

Seven weeks later, Dayo was in Aisha’s apartment. He smacked his lips and patted his protruding belly as he took a sip of the cold beer to wash down the sumptuous meal of Poundo yam, egusi and fried turkey that Aisha had just stuffed him with.

“Honey, there is something very serious I need to discuss with you o,” Aisha said.

“Hmm” Dayo replied. He figured that she was trying to talk about their relationship; how they had take it to the next level. He was ready for that.

“And what could it be my dear?” he asked as he raised the bottle to his lips.

“I’m pregnant,” she blurted out, and the bottle dropped from Dayo’s hands, shattering into irredeemable fragments on the floor.

“What? Come again please,” he stuttered.

“Yes I am. Aren’t you happy about it? Afterall, you’ve been talking about marrying me if you have the oppourtunity. Now, the golden oppourtunity has presented itself. We just need to go and meet my dad,” she said.

“Okay,” was all he could say. “I have to go now…need to clear my head with a walk,” he said soberly, the effect of the alcohol completely out of his system.

It was in this confused state that he got home. He met Ifeoma seated on the bed, an apprehensive look on her face.

“What’s the problem?” they both asked each other simultaneously.

“I just had a bad day at school. I scored lower than expected in a test,” Dayo quickly answered. “What’s wrong with you? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he said.

“It is not a ghost I saw o, it’s a baby,” Ifeoma replied, bursting out in tears. “I haven’t seen my period for the past seven weeks, and I went for a pregnancy test today. As it turns out, I’m pregnant,” she announced, and Dayo felt the world caving in all around him.

He let out a deep breath. “Calm down Ifeoma, are you sure of what you’re saying? But you never told me anything,” he said.

“I didn’t want you worried and distracted, but now, the deed is done. What are we going to do? My father will kill us if he finds out,” she said.

“Don’t worry, we’ll sort this out,” Dayo said, trying desperately to appear calm and collected.

“And how do you plan to do that, because I’m never going to have an abortion,” she sobbed.

“Why?” he asked, perplexed.

“Have you forgotten? A prophet once warned me that I must never abort, or else it will lead to death,” she answered.

“Come on. All those prophets talk like that. Nothing will happen. We’ll go to an experienced doctor,” he cajoled her.

“Ánd I said no! Do you want to kill me? Now, I know you don’t love me…you never did,” she cried hysterically.

“It’s enough,” he said as he put his arms round her. “Stop screaming, we wouldn’t abort the baby,” he cuddled her and stroked her arm.

“We only need to go and meet my father. After all, we’re almost through with school and we would have graduated by the time the baby is born,” she said.

Dayo’s mind was unbalanced. How could he explain to the world that he had gotten two girls pregnant at the same time? He couldn’t afford the scandal.

“Just give me some time to think up a plan, okay? I’ll inform my parents, and they’ll pick a date that we’ll go and visit your parents,” he said. “Now, show me that smile I love,” he said and wiped the tears off her face.

 

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SHAKARA OLOGE NI (FAKE LIFE)

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As Sharon walked into the lobby of the lecture theatre, arrogance oozed out of every pore of her being as if she had dipped herself in a pool of it before coming to school. She didn’t bother to greet any of her colleagues who stood chatting in different groups around the room.

She brought out her phone (a Blackberry Torch1) and began to dial nosily. After a while, she put it to her ear and spoke, “Oh Dad, I’m missing you here in Nigeria. I wish I could have come with you to France, Spain and Italy…oh daddy it’s too hot and boring down here.” She spoke with an exaggerated accent that seemed as out of place as a Saheed Osupa cd playing at a youth club in Victoria Island.

Even though she hadn’t really dialed anybody, Sharon spoke loudly for over fifteen minutes. After she was done, she hissed, “What’s wrong with this professor sef…we have an 8’0clock lecture and he isn’t here by 8:45, rubbish,”

She was dressed in a yellow mono strapped chiffon dress (which she bought from Yaba 2nd hand market) but wore like she bought it from Oxford street in London. The dress brought out her highly endowed curves in the right places, and she stood tall in her red high heel shoes. She knew that she was the centre of attraction, and she stood on her own like an island waiting for the lecturer, as all stares revolved around her.

On past occasions, some of the girls in her class had tried to make friends with her, but she had shunned and disgraced them publicly which taught them a lifelong lesson: to keep away from her at all costs.

Emmanuel, the tallest and most troublesome guy in the class who was standing at the extreme right corner of the lobby with his friend, Nonso, remarked, “I no know wetin dey worry this babe sef, she too dey form levels whereas she be nothing. No be ordinary aristo she be?”

“Well, it’s not her fault. You can see her father is rich, that’s why. She’s a spoilt brat. At least you heard her conversation with her dad just now. Have you ever travelled out of the country? Has anybody in your family ever travelled out of the country before? So, make we just dey endure am,” Nonso responded.

“Well, she’s still a woman and can always fall under my seductive charm. In fact, I’m going to make a move on her now,” he said and began to “bounce” towards her. He licked his lips repeatedly as he played around with the chewing gum in his mouth. “Hey lady,” he said.

At first, it was like Sharon didn’t hear him. She didn’t even give any sign to indicate that she was aware someone was standing close by.

Not relenting, Emma moved closer and placed a hand on her shoulder (the bare part). It was as if a piece of hot coal had been dropped on her flesh.

“What the f**k is wrong with you?” she screamed as she landed a fleshy slap on his cheeks. “You have the effrontery to touch my precious skin,” she said as another fat slap connected to his other cheek.

“Do you think I’m in your level…you riffraff? You must be silly,” she ranted at the top of her voice. “That’s how you go about raping ladies..abi. I’ll show you hell in this campus. Don’t you know who my father is?” she brought out her phone and attempted to dial.

Emmanuel began to beg frantically with fear in his eyes. “Please I beg you. My parents will have double heart attacks if I’m arrested,” he pleaded; but she didn’t listen, rather she continued dialing on her phone.

Just then, a very unkempt looking old woman, dressed in what could, at best, be described as rags, wobbled towards them.

“Safura, why didn’t you come home over the weekend as usual to help me with selling boli. After, you will come with that your bent mouth for money for Bi textbook; Io textbook; and gy textbook abi?” the woman said, facing Sharon.

Sharon looked at the woman with derision. “Are you crazy? No, tell me, are you out of your mind? I don’t know you. You had better leave me alone right now,” she said as she attempted to move into the main lecture theatre.

The woman raised her voice, “I hope you are not mad Safura; or have you started smoking igbo (weed),” the woman raised her voice, and this attracted the attention of more students.

“Oh I see, you people want to kidnap me abi,” Sharon cried looking from the woman to Emmanuel. “I’ll call the police, the soldiers, NSDCDC, My Oga at the top…anybody and everybody. If you know what’s good for you, you had better leave me alone jeje before I call my parents,” she threatened.

“Who are the parents you want to call? Please help me, my daughter is going mad. Your father is drunk on sepe and paraga as usual at the market square, and I, your mother, am right here before you.” The old woman said.

“No,” Sharon shouted and continued dialing on her phone.

Just then Professor Boniface, the lecturer supposed to lecture them, sauntered into view. “My oh my, and what is the cause of the ruckus we have here this morning?” he asked. He was known to often use high sounding English, and the students knew he could only make the situation messier.

“These people are trying to kidnap me,” Sharon said feigning an accent. “I don’t know them, and this young man right here attempted to rape me,” she pointed to Emmanuel. As she said this, she attempted to move away, but Prof. Boniface stopped her.

“Those are pretty portentous asseverations my dear, we have to get to the root of this matter,” he said.

“Just get them arrested. I have to go; I cannot stay here any longer. It’s not safe. Other kidnappers could be around.” she protested.

“No, you have to wait,” Prof. Boniface held her firmly by the wrist. And who is this old woman?” he asked as he turned to face Sharon’s mother.

By that time, the woman was already in tears. She explained to the lecturer that Safuya was her daughter but that she was surprised her child feigned not knowing her and also calling herself Sharon which she and the father did not name her. She hissed repeatedly, telling them how she always spent all of her income on Safuya’s needs.

“Oga Tisha, I don’t play with my pikin school fees o. If she saying she want anything, I quickly rush and borrowing money just because I want her to finishing university and get a good job to take me out of poverty. Have I done something wrong? Is it not this book that is now scattering her head now. Ehn, tell me lecturers.” She said in handicapped English and turned to Safuya, “As for you, it is not your fault and I don’t blame you. As you have denied and humiliation me in public, so will I also denying you. Just make sure you never come to my house again; I don’t ever want to see you again,” she declared, and began to walk away in anger.

Safuya (formerly known as Sharon) began to run after her, pleading, “Maami, e ma binu (Mother don’t be angry).”

The totality of the students burst out in laughter. “Chai, pride goes before a fall. The shameful secret of this useless girl has finally been revealed. I’m sure she will never come back to this school again,” Matilda, a short but bosomy girl said.

“How can she? With her level of forming, she dare not try it. Even 100l students will taunt her badly. I can just see her gist spreading all over Facebook, Twitter and blogs. Well, that’s good for her. Forming what she isn’t,” Kemi, her friend replied.

“Oh boy, you can like to relax now ehn. No more heart attack for your parents,” Nonso said teasingly as he moved towards Emma where he was standing near Prof. Boniface.

“Why? Me, I no fear o…I bin wan follow am drag the matter o,” Emma responded putting up a bold face.

“Uhm…if I hear. You wey don piss for pant already,” another fellow chipped in.

“Ok…congregate round me everybody,” Prof. Boniface called out, and there were many coughs and throat clearing. They all knew grammatical missiles were about to be launched.

“What we all just witnessed teaches us one thing: meretriciousness bodes calamity. So, in other news, no more speaking of unnecessary grammar again by me. Or are you all learners?” he continued to the astonishment of the students.

“So you can also speak like this…like us?” a student asked in surprise.

“Of course I can, but not as utopian as you will,” he answered with a smile.

A lot of students scratched their heads, “Utopian. What is that one again. Ahh, Professor Boniface can never change.” the students burst out as they moved into the lecture theatre.

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PEOPLE CRITICIZE WHAT THEY ENVY- GBENGA SALAJA, CEO, SALLY’S INVESTMENTS

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In this day and age when most youths just want to hop into the studio booth and record songs, whether they have any talent or not, it is rare to find someone different.

However, I was in for a pleasant surprise and reality check when I spoke with Gbenga Salaja, the young CEO of Sally’s Investment, recently.

At a time when many of his peers are moving from one place to the other looking for non-existing jobs, Gbenga has taken a bold and laudable step to provide employment for others (Now, don’t we need more of that in Nigeria?)

He currently has a bar in an upscale area in Lagos, and his clothing line will also be launched soon. Speaking with the dark skinned and articulate dude, it is almost impossible not to be intoxicated by the sheer potency of his passion and vibrancy, not to talk of the feverish desire with which he pursues his dreams. This young man epitomizes FOCUS.

With the audacity of his hopes, it is all too evident, that he has what it takes to be the Warren Buffet of our days. Join me as I interact with a legend of our time.

Do me a brief introduction of yourself?

I am Gbenga Bamidele Salaja (aka Sally). I’m a native of Ondo state, Owo Local Government to be precise. However, I’m based in Lagos Nigeria.

What are your academic qualifications?

I have a BSc. degree in History and Diplomatic Studies from Olabisi Onabanjo University (OOU) and I did a professional course afterward on Networking.

What attracted you to Investment?

What attracted  ‎​‎me was more self-explanatory than anything else. What I found was that, there were many people excited at the prospect of owning their own personal business, but they just didn’t know how to go about it or don’t have the capital. It’s just something I believe in. I’m all about change and progress. As a young man, I believe in creating my own oppourtunities and reality.

How many physical Investments do you have? Please talk about them.

For now, it’s just Sally’s Bar…a place where you can have your comfort and relax after an hectic day. Soon, Sally’s Clothing will be operational. Myself and my team are working tirelessly to make that a reality. I believe in taking things one step at a time; I don’t want to bite more than I can chew because that is a mistake that a lot of young entrepreneurs make.

Hmm…interesting, when was Sally’s Bar opened?

Sally’s Bar was opened on December, 22nd, 2012.

ImageBusiness is tough in Nigeria, how do you cope as a young entrepreneur?

I don’t sleep. I get about four hours of sleep a night at most, and that’s on a good night. Yes and no, I make every effort to balance each day and get ready for the next day as much as possible, and I think I have been able to maintain that part of my life fairly well. However, electricity has always been a major challenge and bad roads. You have to run on generator 24/7 just to always make your costumers and consumers came back. Sometimes, they do complain about the prices, but yet they just have to accept the fact that it is ‎​the only way forward.

What are your major challenges?

It’s ten times harder and ten times easier than it looks, just in different ways. Yes, I know that makes little sense, but it’s true. Obtaining funds was particularly challenging because of the situation of this country, but also because of the lack of any real cutting edge on my first business. Sometimes, you just need to hustle and bootstrap with everything you’ve got, and that’s precisely what I did. Since then, I have found the creation of a personal brand to be an often tedious and slow to reward process. You have to give a lot away for nothing and expect very little in return. Building a substantial business is a very time consuming process and you must always deliver great content.

ImageWhere do you see yourself in five years?

In the next five years, I will love to establish more than five Sally’s Investment around LAGOS and be able to launch more business ideas.

You are a very busy man, how do you unwind?

I think mainly it’s impacted and affected my friendships and social life and my perception from others’ point of view. It’s often hard for me to relate to some of my friends, but you know there   is no friend in business, and I feel they probably think the same about me. I have no regrets.

What do you have to say to young and upcoming entrepreneurs out there?

Haters are going to hate. Prove them all wrong. The fact is that people like to criticize those who can do what they wish they could.

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CEO OF WICKEED STONES ON NEXT TITAN REALITY SHOW

 

p2woCJ-2NSometime ago, I did a story on the young and charismatic CEO of Wickeed Stones, Tunji Akande.
I was particularly impressed by Tunji’s ingenuity and creativity.
Obviously, I was not the only that noticed the raw potential that is evident all over the Babcock University graduate. The dude has been selected out of hundreds of thousands for THE NEXT TITAN reality show sponsored by MTN (no be small thing o).
However, here is where I need your help. Forget about hype, I truly personally believe that Tunji is such a creative force that he has all it takes to change the face of the Nigerian fashion industry with his boldly designed bracelets and accessories.
Please get involved in this; let’s support Tunji Akande to achieve his dreams. He has already tried by coming this far; let’s support by voting consistently and ceaselessly for him.
The program will start airing on your favourite TV stations from Saturday, April 27th, 2013.
You can vote by texting “TITAN Tunji Akande” and send to 33352.
Thanks guys!

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ALL MEN ARE NOT EQUAL

Despite all you’ve heard, or been taught, the truth is that all men are not equal.
I will base my arguments on three incidents that happened recently.
The first incident happened on Monday, 15th April 2013. A bomb went off close to the finish line at the Boston Marathon in the United States of America, and three people lost their lives, while hundreds of others were injured.
Immediately after that incident, there was a massive outpouring of grief from
all over that country. And even the rest of the world stood solemnly by America with many world leaders sending condolence messages.
The government deployed all the technology and manpower at its disposal to track down the people behind the bombings. In no time, it was discovered that two young brothers, were behind the act.
USA did not under rate those “kids,” rather they shut down a whole city and went after the brothers in full force.
With the volume of media attention that was given to the bombing, you would have thought a whole country evaporated off the surface of the earth.
In the long run, the elder brother was killed, while the younger one was cornered in a boat where he was hiding.
After he was captured, even though he (or his brother) had killed a police officer during the pursuit, he was taken to the hospital and given medical attention. (We all know what would have happened if it was Nigeria).
The second incident happened on Saturday, April 20th, 2013, in the Sichuan province of China. An earthquake struck, and as at the last count, 189 people were dead, with the death toll likely to rise.
Now, let’s do a quick maths.
3 is not even up to 5% of 189, yet more attention is been paid to Boston than to Sichuan province. LIVES ARE NOT EQUAL.
The third incident happened on the 18th March, 2013 in Kano, Nigeria. Persons suspected to be Boko Haram terrorists bombed a full bus in a garage killing over twenty people. Also in Kano, over 150 were killed in January 2012. Enough of this killings abound in Nigeria, but rarely do they trend for more than a week before the news fizzle out.
Four undergraduates of UNIPORT were gruesomely murdered in October 2012 because they were alleged to be thieves. They were paraded round the town naked and beaten, stoned and eventually burned to death just because someone accused them of stealing. Yet the boy that detonated a bomb in America that killed 3 people and injured lots of others was taken to the hospital for treatment after capture. A Judge later went to his bedside to explain what he was been charged for, also advising him not to talk if he felt anything he would say would implicate him. LIFE IS NOT EQUAL.
We shouldn’t deceive ourselves; life is not a Stephen Spielberg production, and it doesn’t always end well. We were all created equal but circumstances make us to become unequal to fellow men.
I just wish our leaders and country people are following the story of the Boston bombing, and see the value placed on human life.
And I hope, that for once, they’d start replicating that caring attitude to Nigerians too.
LIFE SHOULD BE EQUAL.

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