The words left unsaid.

“I must admit that i miss you sometimes.

There are nights when I trace our foot prints in the lovers lane, wondering if we would ever get the chance to continue our journey.

I still visit the graveyard where our memories are buried as i try to relieve how our glorious days brought smiles to my face. Truth be told, they still do.

There are mornings when I take you in with my cup of tea and there are dreams where your face is all I see.

But then if you would ever come visit me tonight, I don’t think I would still let you in.

The wounds have healed and the faults are forgiven but seeing you once again would bring back all the misery you have put me through.

We both know that being together just destroys both of us and for the sake of what’s left of us, let us forever go our separate ways.

I still love you but I don’t want you back anymore. *cries in Spanish*”


Unilag Diaries 3.0 : Lagoon Front.






So Far, to me, The lagoon front is one of the nicest places I have been to in Unilag . Don’t mind my picture , my phone camera is so terrible. It’s not nice in the ‘oh-my-gosh’ sense. Infact I bet there are many finer and nicer places here.

It’s nice to me because it has a beautiful view. I come here most mornings to find solace when the lecturers decide not to show up because of examinations. Although there are seats (some) here. I’d rather sit on tree stumps or on the pavement (on a particular tree stump at that) from where I can watch the moving vehicles on the Third Main Land Bridge. Yeah, I can see the bridge from here. Everyone can. I watch as the rising sun abi is it the setting sun ? (all Join jare) yes I watch as it reflects on the surface of the water making it kind of orange. I watch as the fishermen go about their duties in their wooden boats. Sometimes, I see speedboats on the water . I watch as the early morning breeze that gives me serious chills makes the branches on the trees dance. (Yes, there are many trees in here) . Sometimes, I watch as some crabs come out of their holes on the ground and when I point they go back into their holes.  These crabs have strange colours like orange and something or is that their natural colour ? And I must add that this is a nice place to read and assimilate when you are alone. I always read here till my squad come to distract me 😀

Someone told me that once, a student wanted to take her life here by jumping into the lagoon because she had a carry over. I don’t know how true that is. But it got me thinking. Although by God’s special grace, nothing would make me want to kill my self. But really if I wanted to end my life, I’d just google for a drug that can take my life after an hour. Why Jump into a lagoon? The most painful deaths, I think, are those kinds when you can actually feel yourself dying and lagoon jumping isn’t an exemption. You’d feel all the water in your lungs and yourself drowning, I mean there’d be too much struggle before you finally die. A shark may even bite you before you die. No oh. Drugs would be okay. Because normally when I pour a lot of water on my face while bathing, I feel like I’m struggling for life or when I put my face into a bowl of water playfully. To me all these lagoon jumpers really don’t want to end their lives in their heart of hearts because eventually someone would save them, Could be a fisherman. Please never think of taking your life for any reason even with Drugs. It’s a sin and idk. But please don’t. Okay, thats that.

The annoying thing about this place are the insects that fall from the trees. I just dislike insects with a passion 😦 And yeah, a lot of other people come here apart from me. Some come to read, some to take pictures and chill and most importantly, some come here to kiss, smooch, touch and all the likes. Don’t test them, they’d kiss right in front of all your watchful and lurking eyes. I always wonder if they don’t feel somehow, I mean, doing all that in the open. Lol, some couples are cute while some are plain disgusting because they’d be overdoing everything.

.som and yeni (L-R)  Yeni Kembi and I at Lagoon front.

Ciao xx

God bless.

Finally found love.

All I ever wanted was to be loved and appreciated, most especially by my parents. I didn’t mind that my parents got into fits of arguement everyday, almost after midnight, I didn’t care that we lived in one of the most terrible places in Lagos, It didn’t bother me that the block/flat we shared with other neighbors was always so noisy that it was so hard to concentrate on anything neither did I care that the ceiling fan in my room had started making fearful noises, like a woman suffering birth pangs. All I wanted was to feel like I existed, that I wasn’t a burden to anyone. I wanted a warm smile, a sincere hug. I never wished for a comfortable life, in fact I had given up on all that. But my parents had too many worries that they seemed to care less if I even existed.

My dad tried the most. Even though it wasn’t the kind of love I had envisioned, he was still trying to make me feel like I was something. He’d smile at me everyday after he came back from the site where he worked as a bricklayer, though not a warm smile but still a smile making all that wrinkle on his face appear in all its glory. At 42, he looked so old and battered, as if life had cheated him. Sometimes he’d add a little “Kemi, Se wa pa?” to his wrinkled smile and I’d just nod. What more could I do? He was my hero in a way I couldn’t explain. He cared a little.

My mother was a different story entirely, If I were ever given a chance to pick a mother again, It would definitely not be her. She was so busy with all her jobs, apparently she worked three jobs and came home late most times. She never said a word to me when she came home, It was more like I was invisible. The few times we talked, I was her errand girl, “Go and buy pepper for me”, “Check if mummy Tobi is at home” or “Won’t you cook? Shey we will just be looking at ourselves?” When I started menstruating at the age of 11, I decided to confide in my mother, not because of any special reason but because I felt it was the right thing to do. I regretted waiting for her to get home that night, I might as well have slept, instead of wasting precious sleep on someone who cared less. When I told her, “Mummy, my period has come” all she said was, “E ku orire, Tommorrow we go kill fowl for you. You are now a woman.” The fowl that she never killed because it totally escaped her mind that her daughter had just started menstruation. I resented her for not telling me many things I should have known, for never being there for me. At least Adaobi, the girl who lived on the top floor of our block/flat told me that when she started, her mother told her things like “If man touch you once, you go carry bele oh”, “That thing too dey smell. Make sure say you wash your body wella.”  Adaobi’s mother wasn’t half as educated as my mother but most of things she said to Ada made a lot of sense though funny.

Then the worst decided to happen. Father lost his job as a bricklayer at the construction site. They complained that all the bricklayers were “incompetent and trying to extort money for no cause”, those were his exact words as he sat on one of the mismatched cushions in our sitting room the night he lost his job. I felt bad for my father, I could see the hurt in his eyes, hear the unsaid words, because even though a bricklayer’s job was not something to be proud of, at least he could say he had a job. Mother who had been sitting across him the whole time he narrated the story of losing his job stood up and muttered something I made out to be, “What difference does it make if you lost the job. I have always been the breadwinner.” with that, she walked into her room. That was how insensitive she was.

As if things couldn’t get any better, Father started drinking and getting angrier as each day passed. There was more and more arguements in our home. He wasn’t even trying hard to look for a new job, he’d just sit at home all day and drink him self to stupor before unleashing his anger at any one at reach. One day, I was the sacrificial lamb. After asking me to get him a cup of water, he flung the cup filled with water at me, rendering me wet. I had to endure it because there was nothing I could do. I was so sure now that there was nothing like Love.

Some days later, he started visiting my room every night to tell me how sorry he was for getting angry and how he loved me dearly, he would always touch different parts of my body while he said this. I would try to stop him but he would tell me to keep shut so that my mom wouldn’t hear me. I stopped trying to stop him from fondling and kissing me on those nights, at least one thing was better about him, he stopped getting angry with me and that was something. Even though, most days, I dreaded nights, I wished nights didn’t have to come so my father wouldn’t get the chance to come into my room, but you know the nights still came and he was there every night, never for once missing a day. I tried to concentrate on other things while he did those bad things to me. I would sometimes count the ceiling or let the wailing noise of the ceiling fan drown the stupid noises he was making as he touched me. I was only 12. Soon enough, I shut my self into a numb core of non- feeling. I didn’t feel anything when he touched me, It was like I was never there anymore. I felt myself floating everyday. My mother never took notice of these things and how could I tell her that the man she had said ‘I do’ to 12 years ago was doing some bad things to me. She’d probably kill both of us. I felt bad for myself. I felt trapped, I was broken, bent, destroyed. My once upon a time hero was now a ferocious monster I was trying hard to run away from. I couldn’t run, I couldn’t feel any part of my body. Most times I felt handicapped like really handicapped.

I told my mom all about the assault four painful years after. Something did trigger my action because I never really wanted to let her know what had been happening almost every night for four years. My initial plans were to kill my father with my bare hands at the appointed time, but I guess the right time never came. This was what triggered it : One evening, mother had asked me to boil yam for her and unfortunately there was no matchstick anymore. I didn’t want to bother her neither did I want her to glare at me like an angry lion so I decided to ask the neighbours. Aunty Onome was my first point of call but she wasn’t around. I checked on Kola who lived on the third floor of the block/flat with his parents. He asked me to come in and went inside to get a matchbox, before I knew what was going on, he started touching me, really touching me and all I did was stare. I had started my usual floating again then something hit me so hard that I sank. I slapped Kola’s hands off my body and ran home crying. Why was I always the target? Was it written on my face that anyone had the right to that to me and get away with it? I cried, cried, cried. I felt something for once in a long time, PAIN. I was worthless and shameless. I cried and that was how mother met me when she sashayed from her room to ask if I had boiled the yam. I told her everything without leaving out a single detail. I saw the color drain off her face, I wanted that effect badly. I wanted her to feel what I had felt for close to four years, she too was crying but she didn’t try to console me like I wanted her to. Instead she walked back into the room which she and my father shared.

I heard whispers from both of them. Angry whispers. It was as though they were afraid the walls would carry the shameful conversation to the other neighbors. They weren’t shouting as usual. I expected that. The situation at hand was too rotten to be said out loud. The air that evening was so thick, I cried myself to sleep and for the first time in a while, father wasn’t there.

The next morning, two police officers were at our home. One wore an oversized uniform, the other wore a tightly-fitted uniform. I watched as they took my father away. They were taking this wild animal to where he belonged. I could tell that the neighbours were already making up stories on the reason for my father’s arrest but I didn’t care. My father didn’t try to struggle with the officers, he kept his head low and followed them, never looking back. I resented him and yes, it was my mother who called the police. Immediately the police car sped off, my mother came to the sitting room where she met me staring and dragged me to her room whilst tugging at my ear. She beat the daylight out of me. She called me names but the one that sank in was ‘Ashewo kobo kobo’.  I was so happy she was doing all that beating and insulting, I was starting to feel something for the second time since father’s assault, another phase of pain. Pain that my mother hated me. Pain that I hadn’t tried to do anything to stop him. Pain that I had broken a marriage. Pain that my own mother never understood even up till now. Pain that no one loved me. All that pain I felt.

Then I met Dogo, he was a hard drug dealer. He convinced me that the drugs were like painkillers and I decided to try them. I started stealing my mother’s money just to get those drugs. She knew that I was stealing her money but she obviously felt that I was too hopeless to be corrected. I hated her too. I wanted her to beat me for stealing but she didn’t. She would just look at me and shake her head at how hopeless I had become. The drugs helped a bit, at least I thought. I stopped taking the drugs for a week and all that pain came back, I even started imagining a lot of scary things, I kept seeing my dad in my dreams and no one was there to run to. I became a shadow of myself.

Some days later, I decided that I had to see Dogo for the drugs so I stole again. I got to his supposed compound which was a block/flat like mine, knocked at the door of his apartment but no one answered. After a while, a pot-bellied man walked up to me and asked, “Na dogo you dey find?” I nodded. Then he went on to say, “Ahh. Police don carry am oh. We bin hear say im dey sell Igbo. You be im friend?” I shook my head and walked back home. This was the end of my life, there was nothing to drive this pain and nobody even cared, so what was the point of living? I took the knife on the kitchen table. Initially, I had planned to stab myself and get it over with but I wanted something more painful. I started cutting my self, giving myself ugly marks around my body with the knife. Blood was already sipping out. It was painful but I carried on.

Aunty. Onome came in just then to look for my mother. When she saw what I was doing, she exclaimed, “Ewoo!!” and collected the knife from me. I didn’t struggle with her. She sat down beside me on the floor and asked me what was going on. I didn’t answer her. What was the point of telling people who would only judge me? She embraced me and told me it was okay if I didn’t want to confide in her, she told me everything would be fine, she said many soothing things, she also said she would pray for me. For the first time in 16 years, I felt so safe in Aunty Onome’s embrace. I held on to her like I was struggling for breath. There was something about her I couldn’t quite place. But my safety was waning because if Aunty. Onome ever found out about my rendezvous with my father, she would hate me as well. I told her after all. She didn’t look down on me or insult me. She consoled me and told me that Jesus loves me and was ready to forgive me even if my mother wasn’t. She said she also loved me. She told me of how Jesus had helped her mend the broken pieces of her life and he would do same for me. I knew about Jesus from Sunday School but not all these things she was saying. She asked me to accept him and I did, though I was reluctant at first. She prayed for me and at that moment I felt something was lifted off me. She took me to her prayer house at the end of our street. There was a kind of light in that house that didn’t just come from the light bulbs in the house. There were some people in there who welcomed me, shared their stories with me, some similar to mine. They smiled at me, hugged me, sang songs even after just hearing about my terrible past. They showed me what love was, they showed me how Jesus loved, never wanting anything in return like my father, never for once judging me like my mother. I felt really good.

That night, when mother came home, she exclaimed, “I hear say you don tell Onome dem dem about your ashewo works. You think say God go help you. Oloriyamayama!” I didn’t care what she said, I had Jesus and that was all that mattered. He was mending my life everyday. When everyone forsook me, Jesus stood firm.

Unilag Diaries 2.0 : First Day At School.

Dedicated to Solz. 🙂

first day at school

Dear diary,

I was supposed to write on this three days ago because, apparently, my first day as a student in Unilag was three days ago. But there hasn’t really been time plus I have been forming small effico since then. I don’t have a hostel to live in yet so you ought to be imagining how I have been going  from Akoka after lectures to Festac by bus for days now. And this entering of bus is a recent something oh. I have never been about that kind of life. See my post on “Not a big day afterall’. Hopefully, when they are done with their exams, there will be space for people like me to move in.

It was sort of impromptu that we would be starting lectures on the 12th of November to me. One, many people had not undergone the registration process, some were yet to finish registration. Two, no orientation? Okay, maybe they don’t usually orientate diploma students or maybe its a normal stuff in Federal Universities. Nonsense. I had a lot of doubts about the whole resumption slash starting lectures thingy that I even planned not to show face on the assumed day but trust the ig’s I have as friends, they were so convincing that we would start lectures on that day, some even went ahead to tell me the time for the lecture, which according to them, was at 8am. Okay, I gave in and decided to go.

The next day, being Wed. 12th. November. 2014, my mom and I left for Akoka in her car at some minutes to 7am. I woke up late plus no ginger for school. Unfortunately for us, we were held by a mighty traffic which lasted over an hour. I was so pissed. I sha got to school at some minutes past 9am, went to my faculty and the woman there told me to write down the timetable and venue for my lectures on the noticeboard. It was then I realized that I wasn’t having any lecture till 10am, so much for ig’s.

I felt so alone after my mom left. No friends, No familiar faces, No nothing. *sigh* Reasons why I dig first days at school. Later, on my way to the venue for my lecture, I saw Zainab (I can’t remember her surname) but she was my senior in BMJS and she was moving on to year 2. Good grief, at least one familiar face. We talked then I went on my way.

When I got to my lecture room, I saw so many people. Some whom I later got to know were students revising for their upcoming exams because some one was explaining stuff to them at the front of the room, others, probably Diploma students. I couldn’t decipher just then between who was revising for an exam and who wasn’t so I had to start asking few people. Finally, I sat beside some nice girls who were also diploma students like me. Their names are Sayo and Nafia. Appaz we were supposed to have ECN 001. I was hoping that when the lecturer came, the students revising for exams would excuse themselves from our lecture room.

10am came but still no lecturer. The students revising for exams didn’t leave neither did they give us face. I’m sure in their minds, they were saying stuff like, “Who are these ones? Lectures can’t start today. Exams soon.”  Whilst my waiting, I saw Lanre Adekoya, ‘Gooder’ grief. He was also in my faculty slash department. Yayy! Another really familiar face. I also met another of Sayo’s friend, Ada. Remember Sayo ? Yeah, one of the nice girls I met earlier. Apparently, the lecturers did not have our time yet, they were too busy tutoring students for their final year exam, I guessed. I got bored of waiting for the imaginary lecturer soon enough, so I decided to go look for some of my BMJS people in the faculty of Law (Temi and Chisom. U). Faculty of Bus. Admin and Law are not far away from each other. I met them sitting under a tree near the Senate building (not on the floor tho, on the pavement under the tree), they weren’t also having lectures, apparently we all came to waste our time. I saw Yeni too (that was my first time of seeing her in person)

At about some minutes past 2pm, a year 1 going to year 2 student also in the Faculty of Bus. Admin and Accounting department took pity on us, orientated us a little bit and took us on ECN 001. He can teach oh. I forgot to add that while we were waiting for the lecturer for ECN 001, some people came to invite us to their fellowship (Christaverred fellowship).

After the small lecture by the year 1 going to year 2 student, Temi called to tell me to meet her under the tree near the Senate building. And WHOA! When I got there, the whole of BMJS set 13 were there to welcome me (just kidding), just Tayo, Temi, Chisom, Uthman, Okoli, Chisimdi, Daniel Olumuyiwa, who else sef ? Lanre too. Yeni was also there. It was fun being with them, I felt like I was in BMJS once again because even though I sometimes hate to admit it, I miss BMJS and all the friends I had and still have.

It’s Joyce Willoby’s birthday today guys. God bless you Jorcee.

Footnote : ‘ Ig’ is synonymous to I-too-know. I-sabi-am-pass.

Sorry for boring you. Ciao x

Unilag Diaries 1.5 : The struggz to get in.

Hey, just so you know. There’s a post before this one titled Unilag diaries 1.0 : The struggz to get in.

Dear diary,

How are you today ? So my story continues :

I decided to wait for supplementary list for Unilag also known as Second batch. But this kind of second batch is not your regular second batch where your name just has to come out because your score was close. My dear, this one you have to remind them continually that you were two marks away from cut-off and you deserve it and blah. Your name won’t just magically come out without you visiting the school more than a million times. I know in Private Universities, the second batch list is computated by the school themselves okay I don’t know.  My aunty even had to write a letter to the admission office because she works in JAMB office, Ikoyi. I thought she had ‘MOUTH’ and they wouldn’t hesitate to put my name on the supplementary list, but Unilag guys are always one step ahead of every one, okay, me in particular.

One day, on one of our numerous visits to Unilag. We met this Delta man that told us or rather advised us to purchase a diploma form because according to him,’ you can never trust Supplementary list’. He narrated to us the story of how his first son got 69.8 and the cut-off for Medicine was 70. And when supplementary list came out, his son’s name wasn’t on the list. Can you imagine? someone with just a sheer 0.02 mark away from cut-off didn’t even make the supplementary list. I started wondering about my self who was 2 marks away. Such gap. The long and short of the story was that his son entered through Diploma, so he was advising us to think about it. Me, I was scared. So my mom bought the diploma (a.k.a foundation) form.

I bought that form a week before the exam itself. My best friend even advised me not to try it because I may not cope since other diploma candidates started their lessons long time ago and they also had started reading since. I just had to try incase the supplementary list didn’t meet my taste. I started jacking like no man’s business, I finished my Commerce textbook cover to cover, I couldn’t even afford not to reach the cut-off this time. I started having online diploma tests. All my test scores were going well so far apart from Maths or should I say Further Maths in the guise of Maths. My highest score in Maths after 15 attempts on the diploma online test was 40%, the test had a timer soo. I just tried to know some basic things in Maths, I didn’t let let 40% bring me down. Somehow I wished Likinyo were there with me to give me soothing words like, “So long as it was someone that formed this question, there must deffs be a way to solve it and you can do it.” It was really encouraging anytime she said it even though I didn’t know meme about the question. I even gave my phone to my dad so that nothing would pose  a distraction to me.

I wrote my diploma in Accounting exam on the 9th of September and because my dad was with my phone, I couldn’t wish Ifunanya a Happy birthday! by 12:00 am. I got to the exam hall and as usual, always an avenue to sleep. Not my fault again. They wasted too much time plus I couldn’t find the combination of the exam subjects I was to sit for on the system. After like an hour, exam commenced. The first twenty questions were Math sums, Mscheww I jumped to number twenty-one, English. Thank God, No General Paper. Just Account, Economics and Commerce. I finished them and went back to Maths, Ehn? I answered all questions, shebi no negative marking. I prayed for God’s help and clicked SUBMIT.

One beautiful Saturday, days after, Tomisin  sent me a message on Whatsapp telling me the Merit list was out and that I made the list. Then on bbm, Tayo said the same thing. I quickly went to check the list online and my name was actually there. I made it. And they gave me my course. *In Wizkid’s voice* JOY, NOTHING BUT  JOY. Afterwards, I checked my score and I got 72.8 (p.s : Cut-off mark for diploma Accounting is 63) so nine freaking marks over the cut-off. In your face! Unilag.

My story isn’t over oh. Supplementary list for POST UME came out shortly after Diploma Merit List. Please I wrote my POST UME in July, after graduation and see when SUPPLEMENTARY LIST was coming out. October, 3 months after every normal person would have given up. I thought I was going to recieve good news from the list, only for me to see my name on the list but to study Insurance not Accounting. INSURANCE! First, if I hadn’t offered Insurance as a subject in BMJS maybe I would have thought better of it as a course. Secondly, The cut-off mark for Insurance is like 40-something. Please, how does 65 and 40-something relate? If they had given me Economics now , Ehen. At least the cut-off for Economics is 63. I don’t really mind. But Insurance ?? This life. Too evil. The moral lesson is that if your name has to be on their supplementary list, your connection must be stronger than MTN.

Lol, I think Toluwanimi suffered most concerning my lamentations. I love you b.

I have started registeration in Unilag and it’s killing me. It’s like everything is just slow including the Banks plus the people in the Diploma Office in Bus. Admin faculty are so unfriendly. But thank God, at least soon enough I’d be saying that I am now in the university. I hope I pass my JUPEB exams so that I can finally sit with my whole bum bum in the school, If you get my drift.

Ciao xx


Unilag Diaries 1.0 : The Struggz To Get In.


Dear diary,

I was informed that I was to sit for an exam after my high school graduation, which was to come up roughly three days later. Yes, I was to sit for the POST UME of Unilag. I mean, after all the jamboree and tears that came with graduation, Unilag decided to be so kind to drop exam load on my head. Life has never been fair. Instead of them to have scheduled their exam during my NECO examination period or days after, when my ginger to read was still there and I could still find most of my textbooks but NO! It just had to be after Somto’s graduation. Somto graduated on Saturday, Somto was to sit for an exam on Tuesday. Great!

I wasn’t happy or sad about the news honestly. I wasn’t even in the mood to start forming effico for anything at all. This was the same exam some people didn’t attend graduation for, because they wanted to read. I mean, I’d never experience a high school graduation of my own again. So why miss it for anything? I was still in the gradz spirit from the night of my graduation till the next day being Sunday. I was steady transferring pictures from my camera to laptop and blah. I was even tweeting some of them and even asking people like Peace to send me more pictures on Whatsapp. And I was having exams on Tuesday oh.

I think the fear of failure hit me later on and I started flipping through my Maths, English, Accounts, and Economics textbooks. I even started snapping photos of some Maths past questions and sending them to Likinyo through Whatsapp, to help me solve.

Oh well. Tuesday finally came. I got to the exam hall and I , along with some others, helped ourselves to almost an hour of beauty sleep. Not our fault tho. The Computers in  the Distant Learning Institute refused to log us in. And will man be looking at empty screen when man can as well sleep? NO. I think their server was down sha. After years hours of waiting, they finally fixed the problem (Mscheww. Me that I was praying for exams to be postponed). Immediately I logged in, the first thing I saw on my screen was Maths, English and General paper. Firstly, why did I ever waste my time learning how to prepare a Bank Reconciliation Statement in Accounts or even bother opening my Economics textbook. Secondly, General what ??? TBH, General paper has never been my forte, I don’t like newspapers and I hardly ever watch the News. It wasn’t until I joined the Press Club in BMJS and was influenced by Bonike and Seun Ajayi at the eleventh hour, did I start having anything to do with Newspapers. I was hoping for questions like, “Who stopped the killing of twins?” “Who amalgamated Nigeria?” But you sef, you know that everyday is not Christmas. The first question was divine, It read : What was the title of the former governor of Adamawa State? *tears* They should have asked me if I knew the present governor not to talk of the former governor and his title. Of all the states, ADAMAWA. After much Inny-minnie-mannie-moh I got to English, It was good, at least that’s what I thought, considering that I am an English Scholar and all. Maths got me like O_O. Too many dy/dx, cosec, Integration, blah and a few easy sums. Personally, I think the world would be a better place if the Joint Admission Matriculation Board changed their Maths questions from Additional Maths to regular Maths. Maths is not a weakness for me but Add. Maths slays me. I sha did not not answer most questions in Maths and I regret that, since Computerized exams do not include negative marking, I had nothing to lose, I should just have guessed and you know I might have been lucky. Never underestimate the power of Inny-minnie-mannie-moh.

Few days later, results came out. I checked and realized I got 65% , Great mark!, I must say for one who was least prepared for her exam. But you know, Unilag had other plans. After a week of much anticipation, the list for the cut-off marks for various courses was released on the Internet. I checked the cut-off for Accounting and It read : 67. Fadalawd and holyspirit, 67! I died. 67! Meaning that if any candidate of the examination got lower than that score, his or her name wouldn’t appear on the first list for admission. 2 marks! This life. The most irritating part of that list was that Indigenes of some Yoruba states like Oyo, Ekiti, Lagos, Ondo, etcetera etcetera were given special cutoff marks ranging from 55, 56, 58, 63 but none of their special cut-offs was up to 65 (my mark) or 67 (merit mark and stamped cutoff for Non-Yoruba state  indigenes) No love. Me I’ve just been wondering why they didn’t put at least one igbo state’s special cut-off mark. Abi, is it only Yorubas that live in Lagos ? It’s alright. Please don’t even give me that crap that this cut-off mark ish also happens in Igbo states because truthfully how many Yoruba people want to study in the University of Nsukka or Nnamdi Azikiwe University? Or you think I have time to start going to village to study ? It’s not my fault Lagos is so attractive and people of diverse tribes have decided to reside here? I am not against cut-off mark oh, but why put states into the picture? It doesn’t just make sense.

Some days later or weeks maybe. The first admission list came out and sadly my name was not there. idk why I was crying, as if I didn’t know my name would not be on that list. I don’t know which hurt me more, the fact that my name wasn’t on that list or the fact that many people that made the first list for Accounting were mostly Yorubas. And if some of my Aunty’s that don’t know meme about Unilag had seen that list, they’d be like ” Chai, Somto o na-eghi a gu akwukwo ya ozo” (Chai, Somto does not read her books again) not knowing that the god’s were in their (Yoruba guys)  favour.

My hands hurt. I’d continue my story in my next post on how I was waiting for Supplementary list (a.k.a Second batch) because I was 2 marks away from the cut-off to how I finally got admission on Merit to do Foundation in Accounting. (Diploma)

God loves you all x


Some Funny Text Bloopers.


Hey people. Happy Sunday.

So today in church, I saw some really funny text bloopers on @AderonkeOduko’s Wattpad, so I decided to share.  Here goes:


Mum & Angie.

Mum : Hey Angie, I’ve got something to tell you.

Angie : Ride on mom.

Mum : Your brother was adopted.

Angie : What? And you are telling me over the phone, through text ? And why now ?

Mum : Oh my. This stupid dang phone. Your brother was ACCEPTED into Yale. Not adopted. Sorry love.


Mum & Cori.

Cori : Mum, I got a rrested.

Mum : What? Arrested? What did you do? Are you okay?

Cori : Oh no. Mum, I got a rescue.

Cori : A rescue dog. Not arrested. That was a mistake. *failed to send*

Cori : Mum!!!

Mum : I’m gonna kill you when I GET to the station.


Crush & Girl.

Crush : Hey. Wanna go out sometime ?

Girl : Stupid!

Crush : ….

Girl : Sorry, I meant “Sure!” not stupid. *failed to send*

Girl : I wanna go out sometime. *failed to send*

Girl : You freaking piece of shit. SENDDDD!!!

Crush : Huh ?

Girl : I’m so sorry. You suck.

Crush : Um, Okay. Bye.

Girl : NOOOO. It’s Auto correct. I meant “You bet”. I am sorry. *failed to send*


Friend 1 & Friend 2.

Friend 1 : Hey. It’s Romi’s first day in daycare. Hope she doesn’t get sick.

Friend 2 : Awwwww. I hope she dies.

Friend 1 : What ? -___-

Friend 2 : Sorry. Predictive text. I hope she does well.


GF & BF.(1)

GF : I’m sorry but this relationship has got to end. And now.

BF : Why babe? :”(

BF : I’ll do anything to make things right.

GF : I don’t care what you say. We are Octagon.

GF : LOL, I meant “We are OVER”. That was funny.

BF : LOL *hopeful*

GF : Ugh. That doesn’t change anything. We are breaking up still.


Sheila & Mandy.

Sheila : *pouring out her heart to Mandy*

Sheila : They even think I am pathetic. 😦

Mandy : Aww. You are pathetic, TBH.

Sheila : You think so too ? And for a second, I thought I had found a true friend. Goodbye.

Mandy : OMG, I meant : You aren’t pathetic, TBH. Sorry. mistake.


Babe & Guy.

Guy : ILY.

Babe : Awwwwwww. Spell it out baby. Spell it out. It’s more special that way.

Guy : I’m leaving you.

Babe : What ???


Jake & Ben.

Jake : They are looking your way.

Ben : Joly CRAP

Ben : I meant Moly Carp.


Ben : Motor correct.

Ben : I jive up.

Jake : Lol.


Mum & Phoebe.

Phoebe : Mum, where’s Grandma ?

Mum : She’s in the grave.

Phoebe : What ?? When did that happen ?

Mum : Oops. GARAGE not grave. This stupid phone!

Phoebe : *sigh*


Mum & Jenna.

Jenna : Can’t wait to see you again.

Mum : Jenna ? I just dropped you off at school.

Jenna : Oops. That was meant for Jake.

Mum : Oh ? You could still send it to him but without putting “WAIT” and “TO”.


Dad & Daughter.

Dad : Your mom and I are going to divorce tomorrow.

Daughter : You’ve got to be kidding me dad. WHY DIDN’T WE HAVE A FAMILY MEETING ABOUT THIS ?

Dad : NO baby. NO. We are going to DISNEY LAND. That was a terrible mistake. Auto correct, I guess.

Daughter : LMAO. Okay dad.


Boy & Girl.

Boy : Hey. What’s up ?

Girl : Hi. I am with my GRAND PANTIES.

Boy : You wear grand panties ?

Boy : That just killed every fantasy I ever  had about you.

Girl : LOOOL. Grandparents. That was an error.


Dad & Jacob.

Dad : Hey sonny. I’m eating your mom out tonight.

Jacob : You are what ?

Dad : Eating her out. Eating her out.

Jacob : Okay, I really don’t get how this is any of my business. But hope you have fun dad. 😉


Jacob : LOL. Ok dad.


Okay, that’s all I can remember for now. Did you like it ? You probably must have seen it before. Anyhow, I think the funniest text blooper was between “GUY & BABE”, and the most annoying one was that of “CRUSH & GIRL” Awww.

Which one relates to you? Which did you think was the funniest or most annoying ? Leave answers in the comment box. Or if you have a personal text bloop, you can leave it as a comment too. I found them funny. I don’t know about you.

Ciao xxx