I know, I know. Its been a loooooooong while. Am sorry y’all. So so many things have happened to yours truly o jare…Fatherhood, Careerhood, even some ‘fillage’ people have tried to make me not write but GOD pass them…I have broken the yoke of barren spell of Writing! Lool!

             This, is my gift to y’all! My first-est blogpost for 2014! Its another BLOG-BUSTER y’all. Share, comment, enjoy…Nykelodeon is baaaaaacccck!



The “Awuff” Miracle.



Mehn! Times have really passed o! I mean, this is lagos, looking orderly, neat, got gardens and all…na wa o. Used to remember lagos before the advent of Babatunde Raji Fashola’s Government…How dirty and rowdy places used to be, most especially our markets. Oh! If you used to go to ‘Oshodi’ back then, “pipul full evrywia like “tambolo“! The mount-everest like heap of dirts, scattered round the market also serves as a toilet for the indefatigable citizens of the state e.g area boys, agbero’s, etc to “kaka” on. Its was almost impassable…everywhere was always blocked. Foodsellers, Fish and meat sellers, et al could be seen setting up shop right on top of decaying, putrid feaces with flies buzzing…ooh. Oshodi, where I stopped by to buy “boli” and groundnut one day like that and the seller, while attending to me saying,”N50 ni eyokan” was washing her baby’s butt.


She almost made me vomit as she just cleaned her hand, littered with faeces and water with the tip of her apron and used that same poopoo filled hand to turn the “boli” I was eyeing! Mehn, I told her not to worry, na confam ‘epe’ she swear give me! Lool.

   Oshodi market, it was the defining factor for lagos, the most popular place, the undisputed home to Area boys, agberos, theives, ‘omo-ita”, molues, pickpockets…everything that made lagos thick could be found there.

    2003 came, GSM was the in thing. Then, the prices of SIM cards would buy you a new Blackberry bold 5! I wanted one so badly. My dream phone was the Samsung SGH R225.

We used to call it blue face then. I wanted it badly but as pepper nor rest, I was left fustrated. As one of the biggest boys in the hood, I had a rep to uphold. I tried to save, the moni nor reach. That when my ‘padi’, Subeiru told me about Agbalabi Oshodi.

  Agbalabi Oshodi was an enigma. He was a Doctor of the unthinkable, he was a champion of the well, Masses. He was the light, the candle light @the end of some Oshodi tout’s tunnel.

   The thing is, Agbalabi was a magician. A very revered one who according to Subeiru was once ‘guru maharaji’s right hand man. Omo mehn,I was scared straight away, Guru wetin? The man that I was told turned a popular “jazzman” into turkey! Ah! Imagine what his number 2 guy go fit do! Noo ooo! 

   My head snapped up straight when Subeiru and some others claimed Agbalabi Oshodi would double and even triple any money I have and that they planned on going there. Mehn, I envisioned myself using my dream Samsung blueface phone, the chicks that would trip and fall 4 me, my rep in the hood…mehn, my mind was made up. I must make money!

  Of to oshodi we went and lo and behold, the queue to see Agbalagbi perform was quite much that we had to ‘settle’ area boys N200 each before we got in. With my ‘koro-koro’ eyes, I saw someone drop N500 into a tin as directed by Agbalagbi and in mere seconds after incantations and crazy dancing by Agbalabi, plenty money appeared in the tin. Yeeeepa! E don be today!  Na ghana-must-go I go take carry money waka from this place today ! My N15250, all my savings would be doubled o! That’s almost 30k! And if I now triple it nko?! Mehn, my brain was on overdrive, plotting ways to spend the money.

  My turn came, I tentatively dropped N5000 into the Tin. After like 1min, N9,600 was handed back to me by Agbalabi!! Omo mehn!! This is real!!! I yelped with joy as my guys hugged me. Trust the area-boys, they were on my case instantly and in no time, my N9600 was reduced to N6700. I now had N16,950. Not good enough o, not good I told my friends. You know how conscience works now, the Jesus part said, I should just walk away jejely, the other side said I should achieve my dream. I weighed the situation, I was a good economics student na and I also had 100percent faith to go with it. I just had to play again. Like they say, Maximum Risk, Maximum reward, right? Right.

   I rejoined the queue, my body phone me like mad, urging me to turn back” but the oliver twist in me “just no gree”.  After what seemed like ages, it got to my turn.

  Agbalabi, looked me over, gave me a wicked, evil grin and told me to take a leap of faith in crude yoruba language. People hailed me as a previous winner and gave me encouragement. Now, I wanted to put N10,000 in the tin o but the person before me testified that he put N3000 in the tin and has got N11200 ! Omo, I threw caution to the wind o, I drop N16000, my whole everything save N950 inside the biggest of the tins as the large crowd screamed!

   “What is happening,” I wondered? People were running and falling over eachother, gun shots were ringing in the air and commotion was everywhere. Yet, I didn’t move as my eyes were firmly riveted on the largest of the tins where I placed my money. In my mind I was like, even if devil himself show for this place, even if the earth open up to swallow anything for this place, I must to collect my money o! Subeiru and my guys had vanished, area boys gone, even Agbalabi has disappeared!

  Aaah! Noo oo! Dis no be action feem na! No ooo! It cannot fit to possible, lai lai! It was like I was in a trance. I wanted to move towards the tin to recover my money but I just couldn’t will my legs to move.

   As the dust settled, 3 policemen stormed the shop, wearing C.I.D on their backs. They were carrying out a raid! Yeeepaaa! It was then I found my voice after a tsunami causing slap from one of the officers landed on my cheeks.

  “Small boy, wetin you dey find for here”, he asked? I was stammering, looking perplexed. Anoda ‘sapas’ connected firmly with the space between my ‘ogo’ and neck and mehn, I saw everything clearly…the planned raid, the process of the fraud, the paid crowd and participants and the fake ambiance. As the police briefly left the shop, I attacked the tin in which I placed my entire life savings…the money was gone. No Agbalabi, no money. I was duped. No dream Samsung phone.

   To top my pain, the CID man as usual with police, looked at my bloodshot, about-to-cry eyes and said to me,” hey, wey you? So, small boy like you kon buy igbo abi? See as your eye red’! You own don done today!”

  My people, I just couldn’t take it anymore, I cried like I have never done in my life! After pleading and crying, he left me alone after I have parted with my last N950 and the 3 of them simply disappeared.

  How I trekked back home, I swear till date, I don’t know. Of course, subeiru and co came to sympatize with me…I showed my appreciation by pelting them with stones! “Awon weyrey” !


NB. Well folks, I still ended using my Dream Samsung Blueface in 2005 sha.



 Written by Nick Benson Osagiede.

  You can interact with me on twitter @nykelodeon

 Stay blessed y’all.



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