Loud Whispers


Jailed for Stealing Baby Food
This is one story that has really touched me. The young man watching his new born baby cry for food and not being able to stand the sight simply went to steal the food and ended up in prison. This is a true Nigerian story and I must say is the story of millions in a country that remains wicked to the helpless. Nobody has come to his aide and no lawyer I hear even stood up to defend the man who only just needed to feed his baby. He has made the ultimate sacrifice of choosing to go to jail rather than watch his baby die. While not defending his poor choice, I really do understand the desperation behind it. He must have been tired of begging, being ridiculed and refused  by those closest to him. He must have just lost his job, refused employment and with nothing but a prayer walked into that shop that morning knowing that he had to do something or watch his precious little one die slowly. My prayers remain with him while in that prison and I am sure God in his infinite mercy would protect that child and give him succor in his fathers absence.

Linda Ikeji vs Wizkid
You see my annoyance knew no bounds following this dual display of arrant immaturity. Both combatants figuratively went after each other’s throats and in the process exposed themselves to ridicule, exposing their soft underbelly laced with a high sense of shallowness and bereft of any depth. That one reported that the other just got a quit notice led to such fratricidal engagement only pushed me close to the edge of my seat as I mourned the loss of sensibility amongst our youths as displayed by these set of so called role models. As I write, the mudslinging is still ongoing and my concern is really for the lady who has exposed her womanhood to such low levels of assault all because of the need to maintain a high profile career filled with slush. On the other hand, the boy singer only just showed me what I would not want my teenage son to grow up into. The fact that he has been lucky to churn out some funny cacophony of what he and his cohorts call songs to an unsuspecting population used to such ‘rubbish’ thereby making some money now puts him on a pedestal that he feels he has attained some level of immortality. Well, this is the disgrace the society has degenerated into. An abusive one where nothing is sacred not even the core of womanhood but what do you expect when our leaders call themselves unprintable names during scuffles displayed in the public space. Why won’t our little ones copy the Ogas and start describing how their private parts smell and all what not. Rubbish.

Ansalm Tabansi surprises me
Ansalem na my man o. The tall and very fine gentleman threw his support for Loudwhispers during the week. Looking at the latest project figures, sweat started pouring out of my body and I was shaking like someone who had mistakenly entered a Boko Haram hideout. I knew I only had to just kneel down and pray to God for a miracle. God told me not to worry and that I should go to bed and immediately I wake up, he will give me a name and that name would save me. So I went into a belabured sleep through the heat of NEPA less night. On waking up, I saw Anselm’s name written boldly on the wall of my room. Kai, I called him and he picked that he was in his village. Village ke, he had to come back to Lagos cos there was a life he needed to save. He quickly agreed to meet me the next morning since he was coming back by night bus. We met at his wonderful hotel, Maison Farenheit. Kai, that place always stupefies me. The decor remains fascinating and with one big smile, he made my day. God bless him for me o.  The show is back on. It’s Alibaba at The Muson in a play adapted from my book and Produced by myself and Olisa Adibua (I still dey look for that one sef). It promises to be a massively exciting outing as guests will have the rare opportunity of seeing me on stage doing what I know best to do- singing the Akwa Ibom anthem.

Nasir El Rufai to die?
The prophesy came and His Excellency has dared the prophet to name the date. You see these so called Prophets are really the root cause of all the problems we face in this country. I swear if we dig deep we will see that the true reason there is fuel scarcity and our failure  to qualify for the next African Cup of Nations can be traced to these charlatans. Small thing they will be predicting people’s death, what is that. The last time I saw the Governor was at the Freedom Park in Lagos where he had come to discuss his book and he did not look like someone that was about to die. So where this prediction is coming from really beats my imagination. Back to sender Abeg and we should look for a way of regulating these prophesies. One had predicted my own death when I was younger, I almost died from fear. I stopped eating and could no longer plan my life. Why would I read to pass exam when I will soon die. If you see all the fine girls I missed because I was telling myself how will I enjoy these ones when I will soon die. What saved me was that I told my mother who was a no nonsense woman. She promptly arrested the prophet who after spending a night in the cell came out to recant his prophesy while also signing an undertaking that he would not prophesy anything for me ever again. So my dear Governor, please ignore these people they are just hungry.

Uncle Segun Osoba welcome back
I thank God you took my advise and not do the OBJ when you were leaving the APC. I had advised you not to tear your card just in case the day will come where you will run back and ask to be taken back. So today, you have gone back and I believe you owe me. So as we are busy celebrating your comeback, let me first ask this small question, would you have come back if APC had lost the last election? Don’t answer o, its just one foolish area boy that is beside me as I am writing that is looking for your trouble. How that question concern what is happening really beats my imagination. The most important thing is that you are back and the price of Garri has gone down in all the markets around Abeokuta. Welcome back daddy.

Fuel scarcity: I sleep naked
The twin wahala of fuel scarcity and the permanent lack of power has made me resort to sleeping stark naked to preserve my sanity. When I come back from work everyday to the darkness that greet me, I strip naked take my bath like four times and in my birthday suit I lock myself out on the balcony to sleep. But to take on this past time there are some rules you have to follow. First make sure you don’t have little children awake, because your large tummy and skinny legs will scar your kids for life. If they are teenagers you send them on holiday with your mum in the village before you embark on this. Make sure your wife is securely locked in her room with a cold drink laced with valium before you head up to the balcony with your phone to embark on a wild journey of pursuit with your social media friends. While at it make sure you delete every picture or chat after each expedition. Invest in a good mosquito net and finally thank God for your life, you could have been born in ISIS controlled Syria.

Free tickets to Loud whispers the play?
I want to give out 20 free VIP tickets to my most loyal readers. So the first 20 people who send me a text telling me just how much they like reading this column and also that I am the best writer to come out of Nigeria since Wole Soyinka won the Nobel will get the tickets. So start sending the texts and you will know via return text if you made the list. However, the following groups of people are disqualified from entering the competition- Fulani herdsmen, NNPC staff, Unilag girls, Queens College teachers, Ibe Kachikwu, Ekiti Lawmakers and the Masquerade of Lekki.