Tag Archives: okada

The Poop Dilemma.



Most times when I see peeps defecating in public places, soiling their bodies in the bus or in class, seeing peeps exploding with poop, I always abuse the living daylights out of them. I mean, how can an adult ‘shit for body’? Yuck! “There is no justification whatsoever for it jor”, I always bellow.

Unknown to me, fate sat down waiting to make it my turn. And when it came, it came so hard on me. It was a bright Thursday morning. I had an interview at Lekki but mehn, I was broke, very very broke. ‘Yahoo-yahoo’ was in its prime but fearing the ‘what-goes-around-comes-around’ effect, I had long decided not to do tread that path. I grudgingly took the molue http://wp.me/p2sMMf-10 , my first love, and surprisingly, it was a scandal-less journey.


Everything was moving very smooth, I even finished my interview on time, came home, ate my lunch of bread and Portuguese beans and spiced it up with Hollandia milk. Off to my friend’s crib I went. At least man go unwind after the day.


Boarded an economically disempowered rheumatism-causing danfo with a crayfish seller seated to my right and a ‘don’t-touch-me ugluche’ with ‘gbagaun-cious tendencies’ to my left. As we all minded our business, trying our best to seat comfortably, the first sign came, mess kash me. “Chai…inside dis cramped bus, with the lack of breeze, omo mehn, if I ‘minister’ into this bus ehn, we fit get accident o! That filled my thoughts, with both my mind and tummy in turmoil. But as the ‘mess‘ no gree go, I angled my butt to deliver…


Now, this thing would have happened to you reading this sef…where you feel like you wanna ‘mess’, or ‘pollute-the-air’ (or fart, in standard English) and as you angled your butt to get the perfect setting before your release, you suddenly realize something else well prepared to follow the mess comot your body ‘by force by fire’…you know that feeling shey? That’s exactly what i felt that fateful day. I thought it was mess but lo and behold, as e hook me, I immediately knew I was in trouble. “Na shit dey worry me and dis  kain shit na die!”.


Got to my friend’s crib, bobo don comot. My mind started racing, “how I wan take shit now nah? Na house sure pass o”, I took the supposed face saving decision. Quick quick, i jumped into another bus. This time around, traffic was not my friend. The traffic was so heavy and we had to snail on. I almost died in the bus as my tummy was on fire.


 I felt like my belly would soon explode into tiny pieces of the beans and milk combo that was manifesting in my tummy. I kept scanning for any bush or eatery but for where, I no see any. The olodo driver just dey match brake anyhow making us shove forward and backward, hitting bumps and forcing yours truly to hold back leakage of catastropic odourous compounds stemming from the deepest regions of my belly.


The lady beside me was sincerely scared as she obviously thought I was about running mad! She gave me that ‘e-be-like-say-this-one-don-craze’ look. I had to sit with one bottom cheek and angled my bumbum so that any change in movement won’t depressurize my bowels!


Thank God for endurance and strength. Just as sudden as it started, my stomach troubles disappeared. The bus moved and the road was free. Relief washed over my entire system.


As I sat properly, the bloodclaat tummy rumbled again. This time around, it gave a very loud, disturbing sound. Lucky me, we were near the next bus stop. The bus had barely stopped when I jumped out. Sweaty palms and forehead, I asked for and was shown a public toilet. My people, if you see the mound of poop I saw in the Water Closet eh! It was as if some people were hired to mould the shit kon put for dia. It was so bad that flies were performing orchestra on it! “Chei! Shey na for this kain tin I go tanda put my yansh? Lai lai”. I paid the agreed N50 for ‘toileting’ and sharpaly hailed a bike. “My house nor too far, I go try hol am”, I decided again, and moved on.


As fate would have it, it was those ‘aboki , them ‘mallam born-champion’ types that only understood ‘GO’ that carried me. The bobo nor get Stop or Slow down for him dicko o. Na so e dey enter am, potholes, bumps, pavement, anything and everything. My right hand gripped the okada seat, my left spiritually held my tummy as I prayed I don’t release the nuclear warhead inside me. My whole body was strained and barely, just barely, I was able to manage holding on. Finally, after what seemed like eternity despite the Bobo practically flying, I got home and fantasized seeing myself seating on my WC, downloading away…

“Ah! Welcome Nicko” “Omo baba e”, “you have really grown o!”, were what greeted me. Today of all days, my family was having an impromptu meeting! Yeeeeeee!


I was pushed from one family member to another, introduced to countless numbers of people whose names and titles I forgot instantly as I grimaced with my tummy killing me. Each time I tried to escape for the toilet, another uncle or aunty will sha try to introduce me or drag me to meet someone…mehn! Even when I politely asked to be excuse that I was pressed, for wia? Dem nor do like say dem hear me at all.


After finally getting to the toilet, it was occupied. I almost cried, cringing as my “belle dey turn me” and begged the occupant to “please do quick”. The occupant killed my hope as he replied, ‘bros, mesef just enter now now’ !


 I don die!


Na so I go take embarrass myself for dis place wey every full ground? Mehnnnnnnn!

As I immediately made way for the door, headed to my neighbour’s house, the poop hooked me to the point that I couldn’t walk. I kept ‘uhmm-ing, and aaah-ing, and cursing the spirit that made me eat beans and milk as I slowly made my way to the door, delicately avoiding any physical contact.


After barely making it to the sitting room, my uncle just had to tap my belly and that was went I gave up holding the poopoo any longer…


 It was those smelly watery kind…the type that typifies ‘Gastroenteritis’. The one only a ‘running tummy’ would produce. Just imagine what came out of me that day right in the sitting room.


First, everywhere went dead as if an angel passed by. The next thing that followed made me almost curse the day I was born…it is exactly as you have pictured it in your mind.



Written by @nykelodeon

Nick Benson-Osagiede.

Comments are highly welcomed. Sharing, re-broadcasting, all the every so far you like it is allowed.


Other funny Stories by yourstruly…


‘Carryover tutu re o!’ on http://wp.me/p2sMMf-2f


‘Ghen ghen’ on http://wp.me/p2sMMf-2H


My JAMB-SALIM diary on http://wp.me/p2sMMf-w




Ah ! Football ! What else can unite a Nation such as ours if not footie. Saturdays and sundays are filled to the last standing position as football lovers crowd viewing centers to see live matches. Nkowbi sellers, yorghurt and “puffpuff” sellers, beer, soft drinks and any kind of liquor sellers always have a full day ! This time around tho’, its was the Champions league game between Chelsea and Barcelona and it happened on a wednesday. As usual with Chelsea fans, the noise on the streets were deafeaning as Chelsea, due to the amount of africans in the squad, got a lot of Nigerian supporters…and trust me, you wanna be on their side when they are in action.
So,  here I was, closed from work early, almost got knocked down by a “Chelsea” dry gin-drinking Chelsea fan cum Okada rider who shouted “up chelsea” as he hit a bump…hmmmn. Well, I got home in one piece, got to d already filled viewing center and wedged myself in-between a dude with a body odour strong enuff to wake a dead man and another with a mouth odour so bad that it smells b4 d dude even opens his mouth !!
Mehn, I look 4 seat taya, I nor see. The one with d halitosis was a Chelsea fan…the body odour dude was a Barcelona fan. I just wanted a good game and hoped the better team gets the win.
7.45, The game kicked off. Already, bragging, bets and wagers were set. The noise was mad, d booze was flowing, the viewing center was over packed and tensions were gradually gettin strained. A miss-pass by John Obi-Mikel brought about curses and abuses from some foul mouthed peeps. Some idiots already have started d usual “yanyanpoo” arguements.
“Oloriburuku, pass” ! Yelled one man. “Wayray ni mikel yi oo” screamed another. As d game got to the 34th minute with barcelona dominating, Messi hit the post and there, wahala began to rear its ugly head.
The Barcelona fan, body odour had creamed my shirt with sweat to the point that me sef don dey smell like am. The olodo removed his roundneck and my people, lo and behold, he had “George Bush” on his armpit !! And trust the mofo, he just had to always raise up his hands each time Barca made a good play with his “jungle” scraping d edge of my face!!  Now, mouth-odour on the other hand, had tried to no avail to engage me in a discussion about the game, each time sending me to partial unconsciousness as wave after wave of d rotten egg-smelling mouth-odour reached me. Plus, I had spittle all over my face each time he talked…mehn, I suffered.
As sergio busquets put barcelona ahead, the Bubble burst. “Wahala”, who had been lurking all day decided to come into the party.
“Goooooooooaaaaaaal”, screamed d Barcelona fans as dey jumped up, scattering everywia. It was that moment that Body odour a.k.a Barca fan decided in the spirit of celebration to give Mouth odour, a.k.a Chelsea fan a “beer” hug. And you know how quick mouth odour people’s temper can be. Na there wahala start.
“U dey craze” ? “Dem swear 4 u ? “, shouted mouthodour as he pushed barca boy away. No do no do, gbege start. Immediately, another barca fan pushed him back, next thing you know, it was a free for all fight. Uppercuts, blows, bottles, stones, chairs etc were hauled around. Some lost teeth, some had swollen eyes, some were bloodied as both sets of fans targeted one another.
“Dat guy na Barca fans”, make una hol am !, screamed one boi pointing at me . How I wan take explain say I nor b wetin ? 4 wia bois eye dey chook ?? Omo, I negotiate with my leg as I broke  Usain Bolt’s record !
After 12mins, calm was tentatively restored. Miraculously, the TV was not broken, everyone comported dia selves and we got on with the 2nd half. The tension was so strong that even passersby and shop owners have locked up. It was like a bomb was ready to go off soon.
Shortly it became 2-0 to barca and the tensions doubled. Light celebrations from Barca fans, little banter and back to the game. Mouthodour and bodyodour were staring daggers at themselves with me in the middle, receiving the shoves, banter, spittle and hair !
Unknown to us, bodyodour happened to be the No 2 man of his street gang called, “ija omode” and as mouthodour pushed him, he had run to his hood to rally his “eru iku’s” and troops to save face.
Then, Ramires just had to score for Chelsea and that was it, all hell broke lose !! As chelsea fans scattered the whole building, celebrating, hooded dudes armed with cutlass, matchete, broken bottles , and oda weapons of iniquity stormed the viewing center, doing all sorts to anybody or thing wearing anytin Bluish…
Ol boy, na vigilante finally make tins end ooo ! We didn’t even get to see Torres’s goal sef as me don dey inside my house my with my head banging from a meticulously placed knock right in the ‘koko’ of my head by Mouthodour !  
Since that day, though I still go to the viewing center. I make sure I sit at the entrance or stand near the door so that I wee now now coman avoid stories that touch afterall, na tree near tree make pesin believe say monkey dey jump ooo !!!

Written by Nick Benson-Osagiede with the handle @nykelodeon on Twitter.