Think About this…

A while ago, I got a new phone…

I won’t delve into details about the phone.

I’m about a gamer as lil wayne a basket baller, but this game practically called out to me. The name of the game is Asphalt 8 Airborne. It is a car racing game, which involves the use of nice cars to…. Race.

It was so addictive that I started a virtual career on the game. Don’t worry, I didn’t stay at home for a week ordering take outs to play the game, but it was all I played whenever I held my phone in the toilet, during breaks, during prayers sports.

I realized the reason why I liked the game so much. During the game play, if you are in the middle of a race and you are leading, there are obstacles you need to dodge and cars you need to avoid, lest you will be wrecked. In the event of being wrecked, the race will reset your car to the point of wreckage, void of all damages, while most of the other cars would have passed you. You may decide to continue, or to restart your game.

I liked it because it reminded me of life.

In life, if you venture into something, and you experience a setback in the middle, others won’t wait for you. You have to choose, whether you correct your mistakes or you start up another venture. It is your choice to make and no one waits for you.

I guess what I’m saying is that you will always have a chance to learn from your mistakes, or to start afresh, but you need to realize that time won’t wait for you to take second chances every time you have a needle pinch along the way. Sometimes, you need to suck it up and press refresh, all the while taking a note of time.

Thank you.



Help!!! My teacher kicked me in the nuts !!! (true story)

Yeah you’re probably wondering why and how possible the headline is….

It was a metaphor, and I am pleased to tell you that this is not a tale about my privates….

It all started when I gained admission into secondary school. The height I lacked then was compensated by my avid stubbornness and surprising smartness. This was also fueled by my inability to react to pain that most commonly occurred due to sore backsides and palms. In simpler words, I couldn’t cry.

They could beat me all they wanted, stick or stones couldn’t break my bones. As a result, I constantly visited the staffroom to serve one punishment or the other. When I thought I was through, I would be transferred to another teacher. In all this, I didn’t cry.

Sometimes, I would even smile or laugh at the teacher’s futile effort. My grades however, they were surprisingly good despite the lack of complete notes, writing tests in sheets of paper, sleeping in class, in some cases I would even absent myself from the whole class.

I magically maintained this streak through to the senior class. I was posted to commercial class, with new teachers. I began a new terror. This terror went on until that fateful day.

That day that is always the turning point in every thrilling story, that day in which mind provoking decisions were made. That whole day would be summarized into a SLAP!!! The slap that separated the present from the past, the younger me from the present me, the slap was like a send forth from teenage and an initiation to adulthood.

Sorry I failed to mention this, I was allergic to slap. You had the permission to touch any part of my body except my face, I just couldn’t handle the complications. A slap was my Achilles heel. It was my Kryptonite. It was the one thing I avoided at all costs. You just couldn’t slap me.

On that fateful day, I submitted an incomplete biology note, a note that was complete except for a complete diagram of the human skeleton. Who draws a skeleton #fGS?

I was sent by my biology teacher to the staffroom to collect 8 strokes of the cane from my further mathematics teacher.

Now the teacher and I had our irreconcilable differences. Our paths had crossed many times, usually ending with a sore backside. No tears though.

I entered the staffroom and explained the sentence I was given to him, so he could proceed with the enforcement. He smiled and looked at me dead straight in the eyes.

He said, and I quote ‘Osagbemi, Osagbemi, you are here again. Always causing trouble’. All the while, he was denting my face with his palm. The first slap was phenomenal, the rest were supplementary. The feeling I had was similar to the ‘Ripple effect’. My whole body paused in surprise. I felt as if I was betrayed by my ability to resist reaction to pain.

The results were instantaneous. I made sure to avoid him at all costs. Given the chance, I would have changed my name. I became a little well behaved and reserved. People wondered what happened.


I attribute my personality and little achievements today, to that singularly defining moment, the moment my further mathematics teacher kicked me in the n#ts!!

Boko haram grins, as people of influence begin to play the blame game….



This headline is self-explanatory. Self-explanatory is a phrase you use when you don’t have much to say

When there is a problem that we cannot cure, when it becomes persistent, what do we do?

We play a game. The blame game. We begin to point middle fingers at each other instead of finding a cure. This exercise makes us enemies of each other.

When the outbreak of Ebola occurred in Nigeria, all fingers were unanimously pointed at Patrick sawyer. Reality set in as we noticed that pointing fingers didn’t solve the problem as the Nigerian government began to take precautions.

This brought about positive results. Sorry for digressing.

The blame game has been on for a while. Ministers are blaming each other, I even saw a finger pointed at the CBN. A lot of laughable opinions.

pointing hands

Even if we are right and the fingers were pointed accurately, does that solve the problem on ground? Thank you

Nigeria assumes game of thrones style as minister appoints Jonathan king of the south!!!

What’s up Nigeria? Happy new month!!!


Headlines for today?

Err…. There are quite a lot of interesting things that happened over the weekend

Nigeria assumes game of thrones style as minister appoints Jonathan king of the south:

Hello!!! What’s up na? I was literally baffled as I saw the headlines, one essential minister like that sought after four point something million signatures to declare Good luck Jonathan for second term. I don’t quite understand the point he was trying to get across.

I ain’t here to slander anybody but what’s the point of doing so if all is still going to be settled by an election. Is this a strategy to scare away the competition?

It reminded me of the series ‘game of thrones’. In this series, the death of the king brought about an uprising, in which approximately five different people were crowned king of their respective zones. It was quite interesting, but it showed lack of control and co-ordination, two things which have to be present in a well governed nation.

If the time they used to get the signatures had been used for something useful, I wouldn’t be here with this headline. I have always wondered, when people are being let of the hook for doing something stupid, why do they do something stupider? I always wondered why stupider is not a word though.

I am just hoping, that we do not place our trust in the wrong person.



Thank you!!

Life is a game. Let’s play it well.

Cos the way this ends for all of us is a hole in the ground and no one giving a shit?

old man

What matters most is not when you go down, but how you go down and who is there to see you off.

Do, not what the world asks, but what makes you feel alive, because what the world needs is people who have felt alive.

Always try to be fair, always be happy. In the future, you will look back and realize that you are fulfilled.

Reduce your honking!!! …


Walking out of your compound to take a stroll in the busy street by your house, smiling to yourself as you enjoy the sweet silence, occasionally broken by the sound of car tires hitting the tarred roads.


HELL NO!!! You would probably have muttered one or two curse words at one disrespectful driver, who has a honking/heartbeat rate of 1 or above. That driver that just punches the horn like his life depends on it. You hold your curse in mid-statement as you realize that honking is a compulsory exercise that every driver must go through, in order not to end up with a dented ride.


However, let me play with your mind for a little beat. New York City, one of the world’s busiest cities, has placed a ban on the use of horns. Another city in Brazil, I can’t quite recall the name, has also placed a ban on the use of horns. How come accidents do not occur ever so frequently in these two mega-cities?

Do you suppose they probably use some sort of telepathic communications to read each other’s minds and positions? Yeah right.

I began to wonder, is it because we must use horns that we press them? Or because we have become accustomed to receiving warnings in our everyday life in general, that we go off script, and expect someone out there to warn us?

In turn, we begin to warn people out there by sounding our horns.

Every day, whether work, politics, marriage, friendship, and probably anything that has to do with one or two others, why do we do the wrong thing while we have knowledge of the right thing?


What happens if no one wishes to correct us no matter the number of people we have corrected?


What if you go on honking, and one day you are so fast, nobody honks to slow you down? What happens then?


What happens when your manager gives you the work, you make a mistake, you overlook it, expecting the manager to check it and correct the mistake, and the manager ends up being too busy to check your work? What happens then?


Let’s just reduce our honking rates and begin to be more careful while driving. If everyone does this, gradually, you won’t need to use your horn again.

Let’s stop honking to others and start honking to ourselves

References; Walking out of my compound to take a stroll in the busy street by my house.