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Ajebo Writer, Ikeja, Lagos (2024)

16/11/2024

The primary school behind my house has always been a nuisance to me every morning, with the teachers speaking bad English that gets on my nerves. But today was different.

I was fetching water from the reservoir, minding my own business, when I heard the teacher’s voice booming through the open windows:

“He travelled to haboard!” With thick ‘H’ factor

I couldn’t take it anymore. I shouted at the top of my lungs, “He travelled abroad, not to haboard! And it’s your writing is too tiny, not your handwriting is too small! And please, turn on the fan, not on the fan!”

The classroom fell silent. I looked up, and there were all the pupils looking out the windows at me, giggling and whispering

I turned, and the teacher was glaring at me, but she grudgingly corrected herself. The kids picked up on it, repeating it the right way, and I went back into my house feeling fly and smiling like a winner

The next day, I was back at the reservoir, minding my business, when the teacher’s voice sounded again:

“Now, there are different sources of water: river, tap, borehole, stream, and well. And wells are for poor people. Everyone, look outside, that’s an example of a well, and there’s a poor man now, fetching water.”

I froze. Slowly, I turned and saw every eye staring at me, a human exhibit of poverty.

Their smalls eyes wide, little hands pointing. Laughter erupted from their tiny mouths as the teacher looked directly at me, unsmiling.

Embarrassed, I abandoned my bucket and quickly walked back into the house, and waited until they were on break to come out and get it.

The very next morning, I braced myself and went out again, only to hear the teacher’s voice booming out once more:

Now, there are classes of people—rich, average, and poor. The poor? They fetch water from wells, in places like… Look outside, everyone!”

Once again, every tiny face turned to me as the teacher boldly pointed.

“Yes, children, there’s an example of a poor man, relying on well water for himself and his poor family.”

That was it! Enough was enough! Today, they would hear from me.

I went back inside, changed into my clothes, and prepared to march straight to the school. Today, I would confront the principal or the head teacher. I would not stand for this insult or allow them to strip away my dignity in front of those children.

They must explain what I did to them to be insulted and embarrassed like this!!!

The End

Ajebo Writer

©️Kingdavid Chinaeke Ofunne

14/11/2024

Three years of marriage, two years of dating, and I thought I knew my husband. He was never the violent type—until the night he found his sister in bed with our neighbor.

They’ve always been close. She spends more time at our house than at their parents’. My husband pays her bills, covers her tuition, and buys her everything from the latest iPhone to designer clothes. Sometimes, I’d feel a pang of jealousy; my own brothers only took from me.

But that night, he became someone I didn’t recognize. He pounced on our neighbor, who’d been like a brother to him, and nearly beat him to death. (Story by Ajebo Writer) It took the strength of multiple neighbors to pull him off, and even then, his rage was unyielding. He screamed, “In my house?! Sleeping with my sister?!”

After they dragged our bloodied neighbor away, my husband turned on his sister. “How could you?” he shouted. “After everything I’ve done for you, how could you do this?” (Story by Ajebo Writer) She sobbed and begged, but he was inconsolable, his face wet with tears. I eventually gave up trying to calm him and left them alone.

Later that night, he came home drunk, disheveled, and barely coherent. I told myself it was the shock, the betrayal. But still, I couldn’t shake the unease gnawing at me.

The next morning, I found him crying alone in the bathroom. Over the next few days, he stayed out late, always coming home drunk, his mood spiraling deeper. One night, as he lay passed out, I took his phone, needing answers.

Nothing. No chats with his sister. They were close—closer than we were. It was impossible that they hadn’t been talking. (Story by Ajebo Writer) As I was about to put the phone down, a message popped up. I opened it.

It was her. Begging his forgiveness for “cheating on him” with the neighbor. Swearing it only happened once. “I didn’t enjoy it like I do with you,” she wrote.

My blood turned to ice. Another message followed: “I miss you. If you kill yourself like you said, I’ll do it too. I can’t live without you.”

I felt sick. This was his blood sister. Since I’d known him, they’d been inseparable. (Story by Ajebo Writer) How long had this… this horror been going on under my nose?

Then she sent another message—her n**e photo. “I’m tired of waiting,” she wrote. “Come when she’s asleep. I need you.”

Numb, I forwarded the messages to myself and put his phone back.

They want to die? Fine. With the evidence I have, no one will question it when they “take their own lives.” I’ll leave behind the proof of their secret—a story of betrayal and madness.

Tonight, my husband and his sister will fall into a sleep they won’t wake from. And the world will finally see the twisted truth they tried to hide.

The End

Ajebo Writer

©️Kingdavid Chinaeke Ofunne

12/11/2024

So, I decided to make moi moi over the weekend and picked out the beans. I took them to the mama who usually grinds for me, but when I got there, she wasn’t around.

Instead, I met her son, a young, respectful boy. (Story by Ajebo Writer) He greets me, takes the beans, and starts the engine.

After I paid, I asked him about school, and he said, “I’ve finished Sir.”

I was impressed. “How old are you?” I asked.

“17 sir,” he replied, and it instantly reminded me of myself at 17 when I was done with school.

“Did you write JAMB?” I asked.

“No sir.”

“Why not?” I was curious.

He smiled and said, “My daddy said he’s not ready for school yet. So, I want to learn graphic design for a year.”

I asked him how much it costs and he said the person they met said 60k (Story by Ajebo Writer)

I wasn’t with my phone so I told him to come to my house later and I’ll pay for him

He was so excited he jumped up and hugged me and promised to come as soon as his mom was home so he could leave the machine.

About an hour later, I hear a knock on my door. I open it, and there stands the boy, his mom (the mama who grinds for me), and an older man I assume is her husband.

I welcome them in, offer them drinks. After drinking, the man tells me his son told them about my offer and that’s why they’re here

I smile and tell them it’s fine. They didn’t need to stress themselves and come all over. I get my phone and ask the boy to call his account number

The father said no, that I should wait first. Then he says it’s not graphic design he wants the boy to learn that it’s welding and carpentry

“Welding and carpentry?” (Story by Ajebo Writer) I repeat, just to make sure I heard him right. They nod.

“Okay sir, so how much is that?” I ask

He looks at his wife then back at me, and says, “Emm, it’s around 800k to 2million my son.”

I sit there in shock processing everything happening. I nod slowly and say, “Alright, I’ll call you once the money’s ready.”

They take their leave, and as I watch them walk away, I feel for the boy sha but one naira they won’t see from me again.

I’ve gone to order big blender online because I’m not going out to grind anything again for a very long time!

The End

Ajebo Writer

©️Kingdavid Chinaeke Ofunne

11/11/2024

My friend invited me to his church, and that’s where I saw the most beautiful usher I’d ever laid eyes on.

This girl had the face of an angel, the body of a goddess, and my brothers and sisters, she had yansh. And as they say, yansh is life.

So, after that Sunday, I resigned from my role as our church’s drummer and began “worshipping” at my friend’s church.

This girl is so godly that she insisted I get her pastor’s permission before she’d even consider dating me. (Story by Ajebo Writer)

As a sharp guy and a determined, God-fearing, yansh-loving brother, I went to the pastor. He told me to give him seven days to fast and pray and hear from God.

Brothers and sisters, those were the longest seven days of my life. Finally, the pastor gave me the green light.

When I asked if he’d heard from God, he said he hadn’t, but sometimes, God speaks in silence. If God didn’t want it, He would’ve said so, right?

We started dating, and on her first visit to my place, I made a move to kiss and, well, press yansh. She immediately started crying, saying she didn’t want to “sin.”

Ah! So I can’t even press yansh?

She said no, I must marry her first.

Without wasting time, I reached out to Glittering Jewels, a reliable jewelry plug for engagement rings. (Story by Ajebo Writer) I quickly messaged their WhatsApp line at +234-905-465-8003

They sent me a lineup of beautiful options, and I picked one the color of her eyes. That Sunday, after service, in front of the entire church, I proposed.

She leaped into my arms, and I seized the moment to grab and press the yansh like my life depends on it. No one noticed because they were dazzled by the beautiful ring from Glittering Jewels

We set dates for the white and traditional weddings. But few days to the D-Day, I got a message from an unknown number.

It was a photo of a mad woman roaming the streets of Lagos, stark naked, hair, wild, dirty, and bushy!

Irritated, I almost blocked the sender until I noticed something – the mad woman has yansh.

I zoomed in because the yansh was kinda familiar, and just as I was studying the shape, size and color, another photo popped up. It was my fiancée!

Then another picture entered again. (Story by Ajebo Writer) This time it read before and after!

Turns out, my fiancée was mad before, wandering the streets naked before the pastor delivered her. That’s why she’s so dedicated to the church, practically living there and obeying everything the pastor says.

But nobody told me this. Not the pastor, not her family, not even her. When I confronted her, she cried, saying old things have passed away that’s why she didn’t tell me because all things are new now.

Omo, I can’t go ahead with the marriage again. Yansh or no yansh, I can’t marry a former mad woman…

What if she runs mad again?

The End

Ajebo Writer

©️Kingdavid Chinaeke Ofunne

10/11/2024

My wife gave birth and my son is a dwarf!!!

I don’t just understand how this happened.

I don’t even feel like a man, and I’m ashamed, especially during our men’s meetings to speak out like my mates and even my juniors.

When other fathers are carrying their children outside, and playing with them, I can’t bring myself to do the same.

When we’re outside and my son is crying for his daddy, I find myself looking around too for the daddy, until my wife will carry him.

The truth is, I’ve stopped loving my wife. I no longer see her as a complete woman because, in my eyes, she has made me into an incomplete man, a laughing stock!

If my son was born blind or God forbid an imbe, maybe it would have been better but a dwarf!

Other men are fathering healthy, ‘complete’ children. Why is my own different? Am I cursed? Did one of my ex’es swear for me? I’ve gone to do DNA and I’m the father (story by Ajebo Writer)

Nobody in my family or our generation is a dwarf, so it must be from my wife’s family because one of her distant cousins is homo so abnormality runs in their family.

I’ve started sleeping with our house girl, and she’s now pregnant for me. If she gives birth to a normal child, I plan to marry her and send my wife away because in this economy I cannot manage two wives.

God knows I’m tired of feeling ashamed and incomplete in my own house. (Story by Ajebo Writer)

Yet, when I remember all my wife has done for me, I feel torn. When we first married, I was unemployed and struggling. She covered our rent every month, stood by me through everything, and even helped me secure the job I have now. She’s been my rock when I had nothing.

But despite all of that, I can’t keep living like this. I’m 41, and I need real children, healthy, ‘complete’ children. I’m not getting any younger, and I don’t want to die in silence.

Please advise me, but without insults. God bless you.

The End

Ajebo Writer

©️Kingdavid Chinaeke Ofunne

08/11/2024

My fiancée and her father must apologize to me or else she will never marry!

When I met my fiancée, I thought I had found the one. During our talking stage, I told her something simple: when I get married, I don’t want a big, flashy wedding. I want something small, intimate – just a few people in a parlor.

She agreed wholeheartedly, even said she didn’t want the whole extravagant thing either. That was the moment I knew she was the one.

Fast forward to now. Our wedding date is set, and I went with my people to meet hers. We were handed a list of things needed for the ceremony. (Story by Ajebo Writer) When I saw the total, I almost choked – 2.5 million Naira. We negotiated and finally agreed on 1.7 million. Fine, we could work with that.

Only for my fiancée to travel home two weeks before the wedding, and out of nowhere, she calls me to say her father added a cow to the list! (Story by Ajebo Writer)

Cow that wasn’t there before! Wasn’t this supposed to be a small wedding, yet 1.7m has already left my account now you’re adding one cow in this T-Pain economy!

I told her to tell her father to buy the cow if he wants to eat cow meat. She said I should tell him myself, so I told her to tell her father to call me. Next thing I know, the man himself calls me, telling me to buy the cow. I refused and told him that if he wanted a cow, he should buy it himself. He didn’t say much after that and just hung up.

Then came the drama. My fiancée called, screaming on the phone that how dare I insult her father like that over cow. (Story by Ajebo Writer)

I calmly asked, “How many cows did her father buy when he married her mother?” Innocent question o! She hung up, then this girl had the audacity to call my mother and insult her!

She told my mother that my mother did not raise me up well and maybe it was because I did not have a father while growing up that’s why I don’t respect other people’s fathers

Well, I’ve called off the wedding. I’ve demanded my 1.7 million Naira I’d already sent for the preparations back, and I’ve told her and her father to come beg me and my mother on their knees if they want any chance of reconciliation.

This woman replied and said they’ve spent the money and wouldn’t refund it, because, in her words, there was no agreement, and if I want the marriage to continue, I should apologize to her father, buy the cow, and then she’d apologize to my mother. (Story by Ajebo Writer)

At this point, I’m done. There’s no way I’m going to beg for my own money or be disrespected like that.

My people say, there’s vengeance you shouldn’t leave for God to handle. You need to take the bull by the horn.

Well, make do with this whatever you please but I must get my money back!

The End

Ajebo Writer

©️Kingdavid Chinaeke Ofunne

07/11/2024

Ajebo Writer

There’s this colleague of mine who respects me a lot—or so he used to. He’s always trying to be around me, saying he admires how I carry myself with dignity and humility in the office

One time, I took a week off from my leave time, and this colleague, along with two others, decided to surprise me with a visit

Now, on this particular day, I was doing something I do regularly—washing my baby’s clothes. So, there I was, hanging them on the line along with a few of my wife’s clothes, when they walked right in on me.

After they left and I returned to work, I noticed this colleague’s attitude had done a full 180. No more greetings, no more conversations. In fact, he started avoiding me like I have STD

Then one day, our office’s notorious gossip—a good friend of mine—pulled me aside and said, “My guy, I’ve been quiet for too long, but as a friend, I have to tell you. That your ‘guy’ has been spreading gist all over the office.”

I raised an eyebrow, curious. “What gist?”
(Story by Ajebo Writer)

He leaned in, lowering his voice, “Ever since he visited you, he’s been telling everyone that your wife is the ‘man’ in the house, and you’re the ‘wife.’ He said he saw you washing her un**es and the baby’s dirty clothes like… like you’re the housemaid or something. He said he lost every ounce of respect for you. He doesn’t even see you as a man anymore—he sees you as… a woman!”

Really, so that was the issue? He thought my masculinity was questionable because I washed my kid’s and wife’s clothes? Instead of being annoyed, I couldn’t help but laugh. I decided to stop greeting him too. So I kept it strictly professional.

Two weeks later, karma decided to pay him a surprise visit. He got robbed and beaten up very badly, and ended up in the hospital. Work was hectic that period, so we couldn’t visit him right away, but after he was discharged, a few of us decided to go see him at home

When we got there, he was still bandaged. Seeing him all beat up made me let go of any grudge I had. He was genuinely happy to see us, especially me. I could tell he wasn’t expecting I’d show up.

As we were chatting and taking the drinks his wife served us, his 5-year-old daughter decided it was the perfect time to bring out her toy set and play right there in the living room.
(Story by Ajebo Writer)

At first, it was cute. But as she got more into it, her voice got louder, and she kept interrupting us with questions and imaginary people. Finally, her dad snapped and told her to be quiet.

She paused, looked right at him, then started to cry. Now her crying was louder than her play voice! Her dad tried again, telling her, “My friend shut up and go inside before I slap you!”

Next thing his daughter glared at him, and shouted, “Leave me alone! I’ll tell my Mummy for you, and she’ll beat you again until you land in the hospital the second time!”

The room went dead silent. My colleagues and I exchanged glances. The poor guy forced a nervous smile and muttered, “Sweetie, take your toys inside, please. Daddy and his friends are talking.”

But his daughter wasn’t done. “No, Mummy said I can play here,” she said stubbornly.

His wife, who’d been in the kitchen, came out, gave her daughter a dangerous look, and said, “Go inside now!” The girl pouted, packed her toys, and headed off with her mom walking behind her.

The guy turned back to us, still smiling sheepishly. “Kids, eh? You know how they are… After the robbers beat me up, she woke up and thought her mum was the one who did it. Imagine that!”

He was explaining.

We managed to keep straight faces, nodded sympathetically, and wrapped up the visit.

But when we got back to the office, I immediately called my chief gossip friend over because I have something very juicy to gossip with him.

It’s payback time. God forgives, but Ajebo Writer doesn’t forget.

The End

Ajebo Writer

©️Kingdavid Chinaeke Ofunne

05/11/2024

My neighbor and his new girlfriend came over for dinner as promised. Since his wife passed a year ago, we hadn’t seen him with anyone, so it was a relief to see him ready to date again.

But when I say new girlfriend, I mean new. This babe couldn’t be more than her early 20s, while my guy is in his mid-40s. I wasn’t exactly happy with their relationship.

My wife, however, is a hopeless romantic. She’d invited them to lunch so we could “properly” meet her.

So there we were, all seated. My wife, our 3-year-old daughter, and me on one side; my neighbor, his little girl who’s also three, and Gen Z Girlfriend on the other.

Not long after, the girls started fighting. The girlfriend, probably trying to impress us, sprang into action. “Hey, you two are friends, you shouldn’t be fighting! Now, tell me what happened,” she asked in her best adult voice.

In my mind, I’m like, Gen Z don come o. How are you advising these toddlers when you’re barely older than them?

My neighbor’s daughter, teary-eyed, explained, “She said I’m wicked because I didn’t give her any coals!”

“Coals ke?” We all looked at each other, totally lost.

“Yes,” the little girl replied. “She said I have coals because you dig coals.”

The girlfriend blinked, “I dig coals?”

“Yes! She said I should bring coals for her, and I told her my new aunty didn’t give me any coals, but she called me a liar!”

The girlfriend turned to my daughter, “Sweetie, I don’t have any coals.”

My daughter replied, “But my daddy said you’re a coal digger!”

I almost choked on my drink. Suddenly the wine started tasting like vinegar. My neighbor raised an eyebrow and said with a grin, “Gold digger, you mean?”

I could feel the room get hotter. I looked at my wife, hoping she’d cover for me. She smiled nervously, “Baby, Daddy didn’t mean that…”

But my daughter had other plans. “Mummy, he did! Remember when we were going to the mall, and Uncle waved at us with Aunty? And when we passed, Daddy said, ‘Look at that one, original coal digger. See the ring on her fingers!’”

Before I could stop her, she added, “And Mummy, she was even wearing black that day, maybe she was coming from digging the coals!”

I couldn’t defend myself, so I just laughed nervously. “Kids, eh? You know it wasn’t like that—it was… uh, a movie!”

But my daughter wasn’t letting me off just yet. “Daddy, no, it wasn’t a movie! What about the time when—”

I panicked, “That’s enough! Radio without wire! Go outside and play! The adults are talking. Jesus!”

As she walked off, she turned to the girlfriend, “Aunty, if you have coals, bring for me.”

And that’s exactly how my wife is too—never lets things go easily. Like mother, like daughter.

The End

Ajebo Writer

©️Kingdavid Chinaeke Ofunne

03/11/2024

So, I have this neighbor, Chinedu, the kind of guy who can eat for Africa. This guy’s appetite is legendary. He’ll finish a mountain of food and still ask if there’s more

One day, Chinedu casually strolled into my house and saw me making jollof rice. I offered him a plate, because, you know, neighborly love. Big mistake.

From that day on, Chinedu would mysteriously show up at my door every single time I was cooking. It didn’t matter what I was making—rice, stew, beans, even Indomie, he was there.

Sometimes, I didn’t even know how he timed it so perfectly! I could be boiling water, and this guy would appear, sniffing the air like a hunting dog.

At first, I didn’t mind. I mean, sharing food is good African culture, right? But soon, with the high cost of foodstuffs in Nigeria and gas, it became a problem. I couldn’t cook in peace anymore.

One evening, I decided to make something low-key—simple garri to drink. I was mid-way through, thinking, at least Chinedu won’t show up for this, when I heard a knock on the door. Guess who? Chinedu, with his trademark smile.

“Omo, you dey cook? I just dey pass, so I say make I greet you.”

I was like, “Cook ke, na just garri I wan drink with groundnut o.”

“This guy…Garri nah food now. You know how much garri dey for market? Even groundnut, Ah! You’re eating like a big man in this economy!”

Next thing, he grabbed a spoon and joined me, drinking my garri like it was champagne. I was speechless.”

He demolished the food like he was in a competition. Afterward, he belched loudly and said, “Your hand strong, bro. This garri na confirm!”He drank my water, wiped his mouth and left.

That’s when I knew—this wasn’t normal behavior. Something had to be done.

The next weekend, I got creative. I decided to set a trap. I reached out to my ex, Blessing, the one who caught me cheating with her neighbor. She’s a chef, and I knew if anyone wanted to put poison in my food, it was her. So, I sent her a message.

“Hey Benita, I’m feeling really sick and broke. Can you help me with some food? I haven’t eaten all day. Luv you.”

I knew calling her the wrong name would ignite the fire of vengeance in her soul. As expected, she responded immediately, asking for time I’ll be available so she could send the food via dispatch. No need to even send money; she just wanted me to rest. I was laughing the whole time.

A dispatch arrived a few minutes later with her special peppersoup and yam. The trap was set.

As expected, Chinedu materialized. “Bro! I dey perceive something nice o! Wetin you cook today?”

I grinned. “Ah, you’re just in time. I made pepper soup.”

His face brightened. “Pepper soup? Say no more!”

I served him everything, sat back, and watched.

“Haba chief, you no go chop?” he asked while washing his hands.

“I don chop already. Na your own be that.” I replied

“Omo, my guy, you be God sent for this compound, I swear down. My babe no cook reach you. Always on point. Make I finish all the meat?”

“Finish am.”

He attacked the food like it was his last supper.

The first handful went in, and his expression changed. He paused, looked at the soup, and then looked at me.

“Omo, this peppersoup get as e be o…”

I feigned innocence. “What do you mean? That’s my special recipe. Just eat.”

Reluctantly, he took another swallow. You could see the battle going on in his head, but his Longerthroat wouldn’t let him back down. He kept eating, slower with each swallow. Finally, halfway through the plate, he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Bro, abeg, water.”

I handed him a bottle of water, trying not to laugh. He gulped it down and sighed. “This soup na war. You no get small rice or something make I step am down?”

“Rice na 100k plus. Na only if person deh hospital I deh cook rice, my guy. So, today, it’s pepper soup and yam or nothing.”

The next day, I heard Chinedu was admitted to the hospital and is battling a severe case of gastroenteritis with uncontrollable diarrhea. Rumors says he was poisoned.

It’s been three days now, and Chinedu hasn’t visited me again.

Mission accomplished…. Until this afternoon when I got a text…

“Bros, abeg I still deh hospital and you say na only if person deh hospital you fit cook rice. You fit bring Jollof come?”

The End.

Ajebo Writer

©️Kingdavid Chinaeke Ofunne

31/10/2024

I’ve been flirting with this Akwa Ibom girl I met online for months now. Her name is Edidiong and she lives in Calabar.

There’s no segz style we haven’t discussed—doggy style, monkey style, wheelbarrow, scissors—you name it, we’ve sexted about it. We even exchanged n**es a couple of times.

She once dared me that I couldn’t handle her in bed, said I wasn’t up to the challenge. I laughed and bet her 100k that I could go 10 rounds in one night, no breaks.

She laughed and said, “I’m an Akwa Ibom babe! You’ll be the one to run.”

I replied, “I’m Delta! Na women dey run from us, not the other way around.”

Truth be told, I was just running my mouth. I like to flirt online and that’s it. Me that can barely manage one round in a night, where I wan see energy do 10 rounds when I’m not VDM

So, one afternoon, I was at home, Netflix and chilling with my wife, when I heard a knock at the door. I got up, went to see who it was, and almost fainted.

There she was—Edidiong! Standing at my door with a small travelling bag and a mischievous smile.

“Won’t you invite me in?” she said, as if we’d planned this.

My jaw dropped to the ground. “Invite you in where? How did you get my home address?!” I didn’t know whether to be scared or angry. I never gave this girl my house address, and I certainly didn’t invite her all the way from Calabar. It was just innocent and harmless flirting for fun!

“Honey, who’s at the door?” It was my wife, asking

“Honey ke, who’s that?” It was Edidiong, asking

“Uh… baby, it’s Jehovah’s Witnesses!” I quickly shouted back, trying to buy myself some time.

After a few seconds, my wife called out again, “Honey, I can’t hear you. I’m in the restroom.”

I realized she’d gone to hide. Lately, Jehovah’s Witnesses have been visiting us, and my wife was fed up with their long sermons—they wouldn’t leave until they finished preaching the entire magazine.

I turned to Edidiong and whispered, “Look, that’s my wife inside! What are you doing here? Why did you come?”

“You’re married?!” she asked, looking genuinely surprised.

“Yes, very happily married! What are you doing here? How did you even find my house?”

“You didn’t tell me you were married,” she said in her thick Calabar accent

“That’s not important,” I said, panicking. “How did you get my house address? Are you a witch?!”

“I’m not a witch. You bet me 100k that I couldn’t f**k you for 10 rounds, so I came to win you. I checked your LinkedIn profile, saw your office address, went there, and your colleague Mr. Tope gave me your home address.”

“Tope! That bastard set me up because I refused to lie to his wife about the pant she found in his car. This is his revenge!”

How can he do this. This is taking it too far. What if Edidiong was an assassin

“So, you’re married, men eh,” she said again, shaking her head.

“Look, that’s not important. I was joking! I’m not a segz freak, I can’t even last more than one round. Please, just go back to Calabar. You can’t stay here!”

“I don’t have transport, and I need the 100k because I won the bet.”

I nearly lost it, but for the sake of peace, I transferred 50k to her after transferring her transport to and fro, then I slammed the door in her face.

I found my wife hiding in the bathroom. “Honey, have they gone?” she whispered.

“Yes, my love. We’re free!” I said, relieved.

“Ah, they left just like that? That was fast o,” she replied, surprised.

“Yes, baby. I sowed a special seed to them.”

“It’s fine. As long as they’re gone, you can give them 100k if you want.”

“Good, because I gave them 50k.”

“What!!! You gave them what?”

The End

Ajebo Writer

©️Kingdavid Chinaeke Ofunne

30/10/2024

Ever since my mother-in-law arrived, my PES has been gathering dust. I haven’t touched my pad since and I can’t even sit peacefully in the living room to watch TV

She’s always watching Cocomelon, ChuChu TV, those epic Nigerian movies on Africa Magic—or, worse, Telemundo.

Each time I set up my console to play my FIFA, that’s when she and my baby suddenly need to watch Baa Baa Black Sheep or Baby Shark.

After a week, I gave up. I packed up my game and accepted my fate of watching Cocomelon and Africa Magic with them

One day, I finally got my hands on the remote, changed the channel and started a FIFA match. Just as I was getting into the game, she walked in with my baby and asked me to put cartoon

Reluctantly, I passed her the remote. She switched to the first channel, and there was a nursery rhyme playing:

“I’m a witch and you’re a witch…
Cackling together…
Witches forever!”

“Jesus, God forbid!” my mother-in-law shouted

“What happened, Mama?” I asked, alarmed

“My grandson is not a witch in Jesus name!” she kept chanting and quickly changed the channel.

The next channel was some samurai cartoon—someone’s head was getting chopped off, with blood splattering everywhere.

“Jesus! Jesus, have mercy!” She screamed and quickly changed the channel again

Then she landed on another cartoon where two boys were kissing passionately

“Yeee!!!” she screamed.
“What kind of abomination is this, my son? Is this what you people watch in Lagos?” She quickly covered my baby’s eyes.

I kept quiet

“In-law, what are they showing?” she asked, confused and disturbed

“Mama, I don’t know nah. You’re the one with the remote.”

She shook her head in horror. “Change it, quick quick! Oya, put your own.”

Sharply, I switched back to my game. As it was loading, she looked at me suspiciously.

“In-law, hope this is not another man and man playing together?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No, mummy… yes, mummy,” I replied, not sure where to start.

“I don’t understand.”

“Man and man are playing.”

“Playing what Inlaw?” She asked concerned

“Ball,” I replied while configuring my player settings

“Balls? man and man are playing with their balls?” She looked horrified

“No mummy, not their balls. They’re playing with a ball, foot ball.” I explained

“Oh Football, Like Okocha and Kanu?” ” she asked, her face finally relaxing

“Yes ma, like them.”

“Ehen, that one is okay. Not that nonsense man-and-man business,” she said, satisfied

“Yes ma” I replied, as the game kicked off

After a few minutes of watching, she got up with the baby and went outside

Quickly, I paused the game, ran to the back of the TV, yanked out the flash drive, and deleted all the cartoon videos I’d copied before my wife will see them. Then I went back to enjoy my game in peace in the comfort of my own living room.

Sharp guy no be thief

The End

Ajebo Writer

©️Kingdavid Chinaeke Ofunne

Ajebo Writer

16/11/2024

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