THAT WHORE-RIBLE STORY

We have all wanted to be popular at some point in our lives, usually for good reason. We wanted to be known for something good, something positive that we could hold our heads high for. However, some aspire to, or maybe settle for, popularity for the wrong reasons, hence the existence of the word -infamous. You may ask: Where do we draw the line for moral standards that may be trumped for popularity? Should we not choose to be popular of our own accord and not shooed into the position? What moral axiom separates being famous from being infamous? You may even cite particular cases: Is Kim Kardasian famous or infamous? 2Face? Flavor? Remember they both have large following around the world for their really good music, although their sexual promiscuity is known also, are they famous or infamous, perhaps both?

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CONSEQUENCES OF WAR: A Satire Written on the 15th Day.

The most inevitable thing about a war is collateral damage, there’s always someone or something innocent that suffers for a crime they are innocent of. For the past 15 days UI has been at war, Justice against Veto Power. Now the question we will all be asking is, what’s the collateral damage in this instance? The answer to that question all depends on what I call, Perspective; one’s point of view. If you’re a very studious student who has been ready for the exams 3 weeks ago, then the break is your collateral damage. If you’re a prodigal son (or daughter) and school is what you call home, then the conditions of staying in a Hall where there’s no light of water is your collateral damage. Today’s tori is about the consequences of war we’re currently fighting.

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LOVE OR DUTY?

I wonder if we eventually get to tick those boxes, the boxes on the checklists we make before going to college— university. What is one thing common to all these checklists? Money? Good Grades? Adventure? Political acumen? Love? Nothing is out of the ordinary on the lists, and only very few of us get to tick all our boxes. So, you wouldn’t put it past a Mr UI, the most handsome guy in the premier university, to tick all his boxes, will you? Become the most sought after guy in UI —Check. Find the love of your life—Check. Marry her when you’re ready —Don’t check this just yet.

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Pimp-Pong

Science tells us we can control all our actions; they say sometimes even reflexes if we try hard enough. Can we really control all? Can we control falling in love, true love? Don’t ask me, I don’t believe there’s such a thing as ‘true love’. But back to the main question, can we? Can we choose who to fall in love with or are we just led by our lust and conditioned specifications? If your answer is yes, then you could have true love with anyone of your choice. And if no, then is love a reflex? Could it be reflex of seeing that boy with a good physique, or a girl with a nice ass? Is that love? Here’s a story of - let’s say - Ekaette.

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Mr. Nice Guy

"We all are familiar with the August Rush, In UI’s case, it was the February Rush. This is the moment it finally dawns on us, we that were freshmen in the previous session, that we had become “Stalites”. No one had the right to call us “bloody freshers” anymore. We that were once baptised now had the right to “baptise”. We now had the right to call others “bloody freshers”. We that once took cabs from Queens to Kuti will now laugh at the new freshmen and call them stupid when they lament on their naiveté and recount their own cab stories. We that were once lost in the big extensive walls of this University will now intentionally direct people to Tech when then ask for directions to CBN. 

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MOSES

     Once upon a time, in a hall where the ‘dead’ were forbidden and only the ‘living’ lived, a darkness, as of death, overshadowed the whole hall. The neighbouring halls and the distant hostels of omo-get-inside land knew not the sufferings of the living and existed in happy oblivion. The living wailed to the president, not Buhari but who won the election Buhari-style, yet 3 weeks on darkness still eclipsed the hall of the living. And just like the Israelites, the living learned to live with their pain, the burden of carrying about extension boxes, phone chargers, laptop chargers, power banks in silent hopes of an unused socket in other lands where light came not only from the scorching sun. Who to save these people from darkness? The president’s efforts came to nought and his people wailed still. The excos, knights of the JCR? The unconcerned porters? Neither. A Moses had to be found. Yes, a Moses.

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