FERT

DISCIPLINE I was there at his birth, when the midwives shouted at his mother who was groaning in the pains of child delivery labour. The nurses were not any nice. I heard it loud and clear when one of nurses asked the poor woman to keep quiet simply because she was not there when she was enjoying the sexual intercourse with her husband that resulted into what she was suffering from at the moment; what a bad woman. On his safe arrival on planet Earth, Nigeria to be precise; the nurses slapped his innocent buttocks for not crying aloud to announce his arrival. Then his mother took over the beatings; she would slap his cheeks, give him a knock on his head and then kick his bom-bom. She would force this growing baby to eat by blocking his nose, locking his hips in her laps then open his mouth to force the fluid in. His daddy was not left out of the discipline-process, as he was fond of giving the kid twenty-four strokes of the cane on his right hand. His teacher was an expert at ...

Okay people,  my own bad news here... I'm down with catarrh. I've been treating it though, but I'm now inside an air conditioned studio. My eyes are almost popping up, My nostrils are running far away from me, My voice is scarier than the sound of hell, My teeth are as weak as the faeces of a vegan, And my head is thrice as heavier than the cross of Jesus. I'm in a very bad shape now, yet no news is talking about me. I AM SUFFERING FROM CATARRH © FERT, 2016

Suicide Note. By the time you are reading this letter, I'd be confirmed dead. I love sex, and I don't hide it. Eighty percent of my income goes directly into satisfying my sexual appetites. My friend, Sandra, not my girlfriend but my sex mate used to be there for me four years ago. I'd teach her Mathematics in exchange for sex, before she relocated out of town. I lost my job late last year, so I moved to the bigger city in search for a greener pasture. I learned to abstain from sex, and focused on getting my bearing right. I've lived without sex for months in my new city, and then I met Sandra again. Sandra is now more beautiful than before. We met inside a commercial bus. She shouted my name, we hugged and kissed. Later, she gave me the address to her place. I refused to visit her initially. My new principle; "you don't make love when you're broke," was my guide. But upon her insistence for a visit, we agreed to meet on a public holiday...

Human of Lagos "I normally admire her, her asset, the curvaceous boobs that are so tempting to be fondled gently. I complemented her firm breast once on WhatsApp, but she opened up to me that her breast is actually flat. She said that she does use push up braziers, so her breasts appear deceptfully firm. I was so shocked that I blocked her afterwards, she's deceitful. Guess what? After few months, I'm now searching for her. I now value her sincerity. After all, I have potbelly as against 6-pack that ladies always want. I accept, inner beauty matters most, sincerity is an inner beauty. I must get her again." ©FERT, 2016

"My mother married at a tender age. She got wedded to my wealthy father after she finished from the college at the age of seventeen. My father took care of her; she was as fresh as a daisy, and her skin was very cool like the morning dew. I lacked no good thing, and I was grateful for the happiness I was enjoying. One day, the ex-boyfriend of my mother while she was at the college visited her in my father's house. My father got to know about the visitation, and he got angry at his wife. He sent my mother out of his house, without him retaining me. That's how my enjoyment changed to endurance. In my innocent was I born, but I'm now suffering for the sin that I didn't committ. Life is funny and unfair." © FERT, 2016

Humans of Lagos "OMG, the rats in this city are very unruly, they move around without fear or regards for humans.  Last week when I was making out with my ex-husband at a corner one night, three rats, right in front of us were engaging in threesome. I mean, I can't just imagine such audacity. Where I came from, rats hideaway from humans, they don't compete with us. This is indeed Lagos." © FERT, 2016

Humans of Lagos "This teaching; "blessed are the meek, and the peacemakers for theirs is the kingdom of heaven," is the teaching that raises obedient children as baits for this blame trading society. I was raised to adopt the teaching, so I became the trash bin for my fellow humans that are always happy to put the blame on others. "I am sorry," the sentence I was dogmatically trained to be uttering all the time was the sentence that made me internalise several junks that I ought to trash out. I say; "I'm sorry," all the time even when I'm right.  My adopted sister once counselled me about not saying it whenever I do no wrong. However, I couldn't change. I get sad when I'm right but I still say those lines to make others happy and avoid quarrel. Yet the other party still act as if I was actually right to be sorry. So one day, I changed. On a Friday evening, I entered into the front seat of a commercial bus. When I closed the passe...