FERT

Humans of Lagos "On the night of her grandmother's funeral, she invited me to pass the night with her in the room. I remember how she was there for me when my girlfriend left me. She; Stayed with me, Consoled me, Kept my company, but refused to have sex with me. She didn't oblige to my ploy to satisfy my sexual longing at that moment. She friend-zoned me. So on the night of her departed Granny's funeral, I concluded that she's on heat and wanted to get laid. After all, we were both inebriated after too much drinking. I made up my mind to starve her, I wanted her to feel what I felt when I was horny in those days. I entered the room, laid on the bed stark naked. She emerged from bathroom wearing only her sexy nighty. I pitied her. We slept off. But around 1am, I felt cold from within. I had no choice but to cuddled her, and she responded. Yet I remained resolute to my decision. Few minutes later, I pouted near her lips and she kissed back. I wanted...

Human of Lagos "My paternal grandma accused her of infidelity, and pinned it as the cause of her ailment. The pastor came and entered her room. He said a little prayer and then pronounced her to be possessed with demons. My father, her husband of 16 years; who she severally forgave of adultery proudly boasted of his family guidance god catching up on his unfaithful wife. Omowunmi my dear mother became the talk of the street. My mother after giving birth to me 14 years ago decided to end childbearing. However, my father's relative prevailed upon her to produce a male child - the heir apparent. She didn't take them serious initially, but later agreed when the pressure mounted. Her pregnancy wasn't an easy one. And when she delivered my baby brother, she became sick. She started hallucinating and talking to the air. But our pastor assured us that all was well with her. And later, she started behaving strangely to her own baby. So one day, she killed my bro...

The coach convinced the team's supporters that Morgan Bahuri is the only striker that could help the football team to victory. Coach stated; "Bahuri can score a goal from the centre half, he uses both leg and he's very swift like El Nino, the ocean's natural phenomenon. He's simply unstoppable." The spectators paid extra gate fees just because they wanted to see Bahuri demolish his opponent. "Bahuri is the surest and a saviour." The supporters assured themselves. It's show time, Bahuri with his teammates entered the field of play gallantly like a mosquito that is attracted by Carbondioxide gas. And then the match began. The opponent appeared to have a solid defense, but with Bahuri, everybody expected humiliation. Few minutes into the play, Bahuri complained to the Referee that the opponent's defenders' muscles were rock solid. So the referee ordered that they should be substituted with measly defenders. Impossibility is nothing...

Humans of Lagos "I was molested by my mom's housemaid before I clocked 10. She enjoyed it but I was indifferent. However, this incident aroused my libido even before I reached the semen producing age known as puberty. And at the age of 14, I was again molested by my big sister's friend. On that day, she tenderly unruffled my hair, rolled her finger from my eyelids to my soft lips. She whispered sexiness in my ear. Sweet dirty words that gave me a hard-on. And then asked me to lie beside her on the bed. I did. I became restless; I pulled her flowing red gown up to her waist, then I exposed her thighs and lay the gown aside. I rolled her sparkling white pant down on to the mattress. She parted her hips to give me access into her... I entered her missionary style, and felt her wet lips on mine. she kissed me passionately. Thrusting and moving furiously in unison, she vibrated and moaned and I shook with so much charged energy. I stroked her tits, slapped her buttocks a...

Humans of Lagos "So as a celebrity, how are you coping with your loyal fans?" "The truth is that I'm my own fan. I am my star and we all are celebrities. I am hardly moved by people flocking after just because they consider me a celebrity. Let me give you this instance; before I started singing, when I was just a Graphic Designer, I followed my musician friend to a television show. I wasn't reckoned with then, none of the TV crew members deemed it fit to take a picture with me, I was neglected. But few weeks ago, I visited the same station now as a celebrated singer, the same people who relegated me were struggling to take pictures with me. I will never get carried away, I'll remain truthful to myself. © FERT, 2016

VANITY? My father was the late rich business tycoon of the Cocoa industry, he had many mansions throughout the world with beautiful wives chosen from different ethnicity and then blessed with plenteous children. As a caring father, he gave all his children the best education money could get and opportunities to explore our worlds. We are forever grateful and proud of him. He was a true Nationalist and a devouted philanthropist. When he died, the world momentarily stopped to honour the opulent man. We buried him in a golden casket, and decorated his graveyard with diamond and gold, right in his hometown. All in remembrance of a righteous business man. Years rolled by, the economy of the country forced many of my siblings to travel out of the country; yes I left the country as well but came back and was gainfully employed into politics. I am a NIGERIAN POLITICIAN by profession, career and calling; what a far more rewarding job to get employed into. The last time I visited m...

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 ...