I should tell 'em at parties

I want to tell you guys a story. If you are a follower of this here piece of crap i call a blog you would know by now that I was in Lagos late last year and caught a lot of “cool funs” as evidenced in this post right here. Well this is a story of me, A.K the bad guy and Hafiz the Fizzle Fizz…

You see, I have lived in Abuja for the past 11 years even though i was born and bred in Lagos. I however do not see myself as a ‘Lagos boy’ by any means. This is because every time i visit that place i always have a jaw dropping experience which inadvertently seems normal to the average Lagosian. Like this one time i was in transit on the third mainland bridge to V.I and something caught my eye. Someone sat on the bridge railing and was dropping lumps of shit into the lagoon below. Nobody in the damn BRT batted an eyelid… It was like the norm. I could’ve even sworn that he waved at someone inside the bus!

I mean, this nigga was butt naked with his full ‘naked of prick o!’ at about 9:15 a.m and there was a slight traffic hold up. People barely gave him a sideward glance like he was part of the construction. Anyway i digress…

So I was in Lag with my Abuja friend, A.K. I decided to bunk at his pad somewhere off Adeniran Ogunsanya road Surulere. It was in Lere that i met Hafiz the Fizzle Fizz…

Now this guy is a confirmed full grown matured old adult MAN. He’s about 7 feet tall and has the physique of Humongousaur (refer to Ben10). I mean, imagine a very black Triple H with a slight pot belly and you’ve got Fizzle. The kind of guy you wanna have fighting on your side. I asked A.K how he knew him and he said he was one of the area boys that used to help his mum carry heavy machinery and stuff like that. Fizzle was in a good mood that day, something about him being the new guy to collect all the ‘agbero’ money from the okada riders. Need i say more?

In short Fizzle>>>> Humongusaur x Triple H

So A.K had just taken delivery of a brand new vehicle and we were gonna celebrate. It was a Sunday night and Fizzle insisted on ‘arranging’ babes to spice it up. He made a lot of phone calls before finally getting hold of someone and i heard him telling her to come with her friends. The phone was loud and i heard her say something about her being a “one woman mopol”. Fizzle convinced her and she finally agreed that we should come pick her up somewhere in Aguda, Surulere.

A.K was driving, i was in the passenger’s seat and Fizzle was at the back. The following conversation ensued on our way there.

A.K: “Hafiz this place wey we dey go far o, abeg try direct me because i’ve never been there o!”

Fizzle: HAHAHAHA!!! I go direct you now worry, e no far.”

Me:Fizzle you sure say these girls no be ashawo?”

Fizzle: “HEHEHEHEHE!!! No oooo, dem be student now! Dem be bad girls you go like dem. Baba say dem be ashawo….HAWHAWHAWHEHEHE!!!”

We went on to talk about Chelsea defeating Manchester City earlier in the week and some other stuff I’m not going to tell you about. Thirty minutes later, we were parked at a filling station somewhere in Aguda. The girls were on a bike coming to meet us so Fizzle took a stroll to meet them at the junction while i waited with AK in the car. A few moments later, i saw Fizzle approaching us with two girls, one obviously more attractive than the other. A.K and I caught each other in a side eye glance. I was already thinking of how to intrebolate the finer one when they got to the car and entered the backseat. That’s when it hit me like a heat wave.

The smell.

The trash heap has spoken.... RISE!

Those girls had on their heads, wigs/weaves from hell. I’m not exaggerating, those things smelt so bad it was as if someone farted in the car.

WARNING: This goes out to all you girls who carry weaves on your head till lice and fleas and all those other smell inducing elements build sky scrapers on your head. STOP IT! The fact that you smooch your hair with ‘pink oil’ every morning and then comb it into another style doesn’t change the weave. We don’t care if it’s Indian, Peruvian or Vietnamese hair. STOP IT. As you read this, i don’t care if you’re in the office or not, put your hand in your hair and start loosening that shit right away! Who do you think you’re deceiving? It’s not sexy. I dont like having to hold my breath everytime i hug you.

Back to the story.

A.K was frowning and didn’t utter a word. If not for the area we were in, I’m sure he would’ve taken  the windows all the way down.

Fizzle: “Guys na the babes be this o.”

A.K: “Hi. Fizzle na your town be this, where we dey go?” (Still frowning)

I turned around and introduced myself to the babes. Their names were Bola and Dupe.

A.K had started driving out and Fizzle and his babes were talking in the back seat. I brought out my phone to tweet when it happened.

Dupe:    “I have a eddik o!”

Bola:      “Mi o de wa ni panadol o! I din haff panadol at all.”

I hear a zip open and turn in time to see Dupe reach for something in her bag. I’m not sure if it was the smell that hit me first or the sight of a dark green plastic bottle with a yellow cap. Alomo bitters!

Kasapreko Alomo Bitters

This bitch was using Alomo to abate her headache! (In case you don’t know Alomo bitters, it’s a very vile tasting ‘ointmentish’ drink with Ghanaian origins and has 43% alcohol). Bola brought out her phone and shuffled through it. She starts to play a song from her phone and next thing i hear the girls scream out of excitement…


Bola: “It’s Hollllaaarr baby!!! Holllaaaaarrrrr!..”

Dupe/Bola: “ENI DURO!!!! Horrlamidey is yeah, just like the first day of the year.”

*They kept miming the song, some gibberish i couldn’t quite make out*

Dupe/Bola: “Hoekay. Holrite! Hall dia? He dey dere….

(I found the song they were listening to on the internet. You can download it here)

By the time they were mid way through the song, A.K had taken down the windows because the smell had become unbearable. He ordered them to put off the music as we approached a police checkpoint. I sat there tweeting still, using every bit of my energy to keep a straight face. I managed to look into the rear view mirror and saw Fizzle mildly suppress a grin. Trust Lagos policemen, they flagged us down.

Policeman: “Inner light, park.”

A.K:  “Officer, well done. How work?”

Policeman: “Ha oga na you? This your motor na tear rubber. Who is the owner of this vehicle?”

A.K: “It’s my car.”

Policeman: “You mean you buy this brand new motor by yourself?”

A.K: “Yes.  Any problem?”

He seemed to ponder over the question before he responded.

Policeman: “No chairman. That means you have to ‘wash’ it for us nah. You know we are here to protect you people. Make we sef follow enjoy from your happiness baba!…”

A.K handed him a couple thousand naira notes and he and his colleagues waved us on, smiling and waving like we were part of the state governor’s convoy.

I couldn’t help but mutter something about the irony of A.K having a convo with A.K (In Nigeria, policemen are sometimes refered to as ‘A.K’)

Dupe: “Hoe GOD! I ate police!!!”


The girl, now smiling that she had finally gotten me to say something continued…

Dupe: “Hassin I ate police with a passions! I can never marry a police!! Das how dey use to do in dis


Me: “Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?!” BUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

A.K for the first time that night was laughing hysterically as was I. We look at each other and simultaneously chorused, Boondocks style, “HOODRATS! HOOODRAAAAAATTSS!!!”

The girls thought we were laughing at the policemen and joined in the laughter. We arrived at a lounge somewhere on Adeniran Ogunsanya and what those girls did ehn…

That will be a story for another day. This post is too long already. To be continued next week…

In case you haven’t noticed

I am Immortal Larry Sushey. #ITellCoolStories!