The making of an award-winning thriller
By: Lukpata Lomba Joseph (The gods are angry) ‘This and only this is the way.’—psalms 500:4 I In a soft […]
… where sa-tyres never go flat
… where sa-tyres never go flat
By: Lukpata Lomba Joseph (The gods are angry) ‘This and only this is the way.’—psalms 500:4 I In a soft […]
Humans succumb to infirmities throughout their lives. Even though they desire immortality, diseases ensure it forever remains elusive. This inordinate longing is evidenced by the huge resources wasteful nations spend discovering medicinal agents, gadgets and on building hospitals.
By: Joy Abraham Buttocks matter here. A big one would do. Not necessarily clean Down my street lives a buttocks specialist Master […]
Before we begin, I will like to congratulate you for being a man; be thankful to nature for this blessing. If you aren’t a man, either gear up for constant sidelining or check your dreams for Plan B — unless you don’t mind wearing gold chains, sunshades, do-rags and denim every day. You know, fake it till you make it. Even then, you’d still have a slim chance, because Nigerians made a groundbreaking discovery that having tiny bonus brains lodged within each testicle improves creativity.
The first thing you need to know is that you have to give birth to many children. Omo ni ade; they are your wealth, they carry on the family name, they take care of you when you are old. If you decide to have one and that one dies when he is twenty – remember that story of that boy that died during his graduation? – what will happen then?
Good day, President Mumu-Man-Du, the Commander-in-C(t)hief, my amiable f(r)iend. I hear you are greatly perturbed by the state of our nation; the hardship it is entrenched in, coupled with the fallacious claims from most citizens, that you are incompetent. Indeed, uneasy lies the head that wears the crown. To placate and encourage your perplexed self, I offer to you and your representathieves, my candid suggestions on how to positively manage the affairs of our nation.
Our democracy is twenty-one years old. This calls for a celebration; the type that requires Aso-Ebi and sumptuous jollof rice with chicken. It is a good thing to give thanks to God for keeping this unholy alliance together. Though many things have gone wrong in this our country, we are proud to flutter our flag though stained with the blood of innocent souls whose death always raises a dirge at nightfall in the North.
On the second floor, there are three officers. They are seen talking about the recent rape case that was brought before them. One is Martin, the captain, and the other officers are Marcus and Jim. They are both seated before Martin. The line for the conservation is soon drawn.
I own a penis. It is important to start with that. Why? My penis clouds my judgment. I don’t have the right to tell a woman what to do with her body, unless, I am pro-abortion. If I am pro-abortion, then it doesn’t matter if I own a penis or not. Bonus points if I am in a science-related field. My views will be all over the place. It is sheer arrogance for a penis owner to go against abortion. After all, penis owners don’t listen to vagina owners on health-related issues.
There are different reasons for which people may want to mourn a son. This guide is useful for those keeping their eyes on the big goals of their son’s property or their son’s wife. For eye-service tips on how to pretend you weren’t actually the one who killed your son, check out our guide on mourning louder than the bereaved here.