Friday, 25 December 2015


Hello hi,

Merry Christmas to you all. I hope you are having a lovely weekend; my previous bella naija post is here. As, the year is drawing to an end, I wish you all a joyful vacation and peace. I have a new post for you today, so enjoy and please leave your comments below. Thank you!


Going for vigil mass yesterday and singing “O come all ye faithful” along with the choir made me realize how much I had grown over the years and how Christmas celebration had changed for me. After mass, I began to reminisce about how I used to spend Christmas when I was younger. Back then, we would go to our home town (village) for about two weeks. We did not have a choice as my father always threatened to lock up ‘his’ house and take the key. So grudgingly, my siblings and I would pack our bags for the trip. Our reluctance to travel was not because we did not like the village but because we did not see the point of leaving our lives and friends and going away for so long to see people that we barely knew. The more we tried to explain our reasoning, the more my father resisted. To him, that was even a better reason to go – so that we would get to know our long-lost relatives even more! And so every year, we had the same arguments and ended up travelling to the village.

The first day of arrival usually involved having visitors, coming around to welcome you back home. They basically asked all of us the same questions in our local language – how are you? How have you been? How is your family (which they could already see by themselves)? How are your brothers? How are your sisters? (As if these were not part of the term ‘family’); to which we always replied “good, thank you.” The next day would involve cleaning up the house and cooking as well as more visitors; some of whom had already visited the day before. Of course, they would resume the usual questions while we struggled to get some work done. By Christmas day, we would be tired from all the cooking, cleaning and guest entertainment such that my siblings and I would fall asleep in church. Sometimes, we would sneak to my grand-uncle’s house which was a few blocks away from the church to take a nap and return back to the church before my parents noticed. Thankfully, the Christmas service was always very long because of annual church harvest and so we always made it back on time. After church, we would even so many visitors follow us back home directly and so, we used to spend our time serving meals whilst my father would tell his friends how happy we were to be back home. And we, the children, always had to smile and nod when he made such statements to the guests.

On Boxing Day was when we were allowed to go out. My father would wake us up early in the morning to have breakfast and go out to greet our relatives and practically, the entire village. His exact words would be “go out and do not come back until evening. Visit everyone and feel free to pluck fruits. Everybody here shares…there’s no place like home!” Ironically, we were almost never allowed to go out for more than a couple of hours in the city so my siblings and I wished that we had such freedom in the city. We had to obey orders as once again my father would threaten to lock the village house if we did not leave immediately after meals. And so we were forced to go and watched the inter-villages soccer competitions, masquerade performances and some traditional dance. We stopped occasionally at trusted relatives’ houses for lunch, dinner or some snacks along the way but when it came to fruits, any tree of interest that we saw, we would ask for permission from whomever was present in the compound and then pluck some to eat.  

It was during one of these fruit picking that we came across a nice Udara (Agbalumo) tree one year. My cousins and I had wandered into a compound that housed the tree, so rich with ripened fruits. We were surprised at our luck at finding such a fortune as more often than not, this particular tree type would be lacking its fruits because the other villagers would have plucked them before we got there. We did not hesitate to ask the boy standing by the gate if we could have some and began to help ourselves immediately after he said yes. It was on our way out, chatting excitedly, our hands and pockets filled with the fruit, that we that we heard a woman’s voice screaming. We turned around to find an old woman running after us and asking us to stop. My first instinct was to run but I held back as I knew my cousins would not. The woman came to us and started talking so fast in Ibo that I could barely understand what she was saying. One of my cousins, Ezi, whispered to me; basically, the woman was saying that she wanted her fruit back. We were surprised as we had never been asked to return any food before but sadly and slowly we emptied our hands and pockets. She also inspected us to be sure that we had dropped all of them before she let us go.

All our initial excitement was turned into disappointment and we recounted our experience to one of our uncles. We described where her compound was and he laughed and told us that she never allowed anyone take anything from her house and that she did not have any friends. It was then that we understood why her tree was still filled up with fruits; we thought about how stingy she was! Just before we went back to bed, Ezi took me aside and showed me an udara fruit.
“Where did you get it from?!” I almost screamed.
“Shh! From that woman’s tree. I hid it”
“Where? But she searched us…”
“Do you want or not?!” Ezi snapped impatiently.
I did not have time to think; I quickly agreed and I must say that was the best tasting udara I have ever had in my life. I was thankful to Ezi for our escapade and we vowed to keep our secret for the rest of our stay in the village.

So it was adventures like this and many others that usually made my travel memorable as well the huge collection of interesting novels in my uncle’s library including ‘the pacesetters’. Now I am grown, I miss such adventures and the other incentives I used to receive during this festive period such as new Christmas clothes, shoes and even new hair! So as I sat in church this year, while I was thankful for the year so far, and also for the years gone by, I secretly wished that I was wearing a new Christmas dress with new matching shoes.

*udara - chrysophyllum albidum

Thank you for reading and following my blog and bella naija stories all year. Have a happy Christmas holiday and catch lots of fun. Best wishes always!

Twitter: vivio_gogo
IG: ugochiukah

Wednesday, 16 December 2015


Hello Hi,

Xmas is coming and I can only help but think about how fast the year has gone by. I hope your year went as good as you hoped for and even better!

My last bellanaija article can be found here. Today, I am posting a feature from My. Etoh, a talented writer (happy belated birthday by the way :) ). So please, as usual, enjoy and share with your friends and feel free to leave your comments below in the comment sections.

All my life, I have always looked for a time and an age where I would invite my friends over for a chill out or for a party. All my birthdays starts and ends with wishes, and wishes, and more wishes, and worse case scenarios, members of my family forget I was even celebrating. It’s been this way so much that I now considered it a ‘culture’, my way of life, until my last birthday.
I had hopped on an okada* with my weight pressing hard on the seat as I landed my buttocks against the wet chair. I knew I couldn’t get any wetter than I already was, and even though I knew I couldn’t hide from the rain, I was sure to make the okada man pay for my sins. So I shrugged behind him and made sure no part of me was seen by this bad-belle rain.
Sometimes I wondered how these okada-men drove in the rain, I wondered how they saw the road, and worse still, they also drive in same conditions at night. I knew it was extremely dangerous, at least the risk of slipping and landing inside a ditch was high; but for once I had never cared. I had been riding on this means of transportation all my life, it somehow was a part of me, and sometimes I wished I could travel on bikes to the village. That was how complicated my okada life was.

Just about ten seconds into the journey, my phone started to ring hysterically. I was pissed especially because I knew how important the call was, but I couldn’t answer it while on the bike, and under the rain. It was Uncle Ugonna’s call, and I was sure he was calling to know my location at the moment. He had promised to make my birthday a memorable one, and an hour back he had called to tell me to come and take twenty thousand Naira, ‘so at least you can arrange some drinks with your guys’ he had said and then dropped the call.
That money at this moment seemed like the whole Nigerian budget to me. I could swear I had lost touch of such kind of cash, and although I knew he was capable of doing ten times much more than he already did, I decided to accept this with both hands and my legs.
“Young man, where are you?” was the first thing I heard even before the phone reached my ear.
“I’m close to your house sir” I shouted on top of my voice ensuring he heard every bit of what I said.
“Hmmmm…ok…if I don’t see you in the next five minutes, I’m going out, and I would leave with the cash” he hung up immediately the last word dropped.

If there was one thing I knew about my uncle, it was that he never joked with timing, and he meant whatever he said over the phone.
And to ensure I got a happy ending over my uncle’s search for discipline, I tapped the okada-man on his right shoulder, and said loudly, “kai malam, fire this okada!”
And without even letting the words sink into his ears, he responded “yowa mutumina.” He seemed happy and over-joyed after I gave the command, and truthfully, he started to fly. I knew he was over-speeding, I knew it was dangerous considering the weather condition and that it was night, I also knew that if something happens, we both might not be spared; but despite all this knowledge, I still couldn’t stop or slow him down. I needed to get that cash, I needed to party and eat with my friends, I needed to buy a present for myself and most of all, I needed to have cash. All these together made me the biggest fool at that time. I was a fool on my birthday, and yes, even though I now understand the gravity of my actions at that time, I still fail to understand how I survived the crash that came our way less than a minute after I had urged the okada-man to end our existence.

I woke up some days later with all manner of wires penetrating into my skin, and I was bandaged like Lazarus in the tomb. People from all works of life had come to see me in the hospital, but uncle Ugonna. I’d like to think he hasn’t yet heard the unfortunate news his calls brought about. I was crushed and bed-ridden, but I could still swear that I needed that money. People came and stayed and went, but no one’s attention was most needed like that of my assassin Uncle. I looked out for him amongst the dozens that trooped in to offer their heartfelt and warmth pity for me. I didn’t feel any pain, and even if I did, I was so less worried about it, all I still needed was that cash that prompted all this.

*okada - Motorbike for public transportation
yowa mutumina – okay, my friend

Enjoy the rest of your week. x

Twitter: @vivio_gogo

IG: @ugochiukah

Tuesday, 24 November 2015


Hello hi,
It’s been a short while but I trust you have been good. My last Bellanaija post can be found here.
Today I’m gonna be writing about:

PMS – Pre-Menstrual Syndrome

Okay, so I am obviously not new to menstruation (given my age) but I have definitely been ignorant about many things concerning this topic. The good news is that I learn something new every month. For me, PMS is the latest knowledge that I have acquired and it happened so because of certain events which I am about to write about that made me open up my heart to a little research.
For a long time, I had always noticed a change in my emotions and activities just a few days before my period would start but all these while, I just did not know that there was a name for these circles of events.  A specific change for me was fatigue – I would find myself yawning constantly and sleeping like I were a pregnant woman and no matter how much coffee I swallowed, it would make no difference. In fact, it would seem as if I had been drinking warm milk to make me sleep even more. For me, this tired feeling was not much of a problem because anytime I could not explain why I was so tired from doing nothing productive, I would check my period calendar. So it was useful in the sense that it was a reminder of my period and so I could start making plans ahead such as buying new sanitary towels, reordering my prescriptions, arranging my underwear (lol) and then shopping for and cooking the food that I would eat the following week.
Like I said, I kind of appreciate the fatigue feeling, besides the fact that I get way less work done, because it helped me prepare. However, around my previous period season, another event that was quite strange happened. It was on a Monday; as usual I had packed my lunch, taken a shower and done my makeup before leaving for work. When I got to work, the first thing I did was head straight to the coffee shop to get my ‘milk’, as that was how it would seem to my body during that season. It was still early so the queue was short, thankfully! When I got to the counter, the friendly waitress smiled and took my order. She was as polite as always but I noticed that there was something different about her that day. You see, usually, she would make a comment about how she liked my look for the day and would laugh loudly or smile really broadly, or something along that line. The point is that she would always try to do something to start a conversation with me (which I often felt was unnecessary as I am almost never in the mood for small talks early in the morning), but I would respond nonetheless because she seemed like a nice person. However, this time she did not say anything and I just assumed that she had had a long weekend or was really busy although only 2 people were left on the queue.
I had already ignored my thoughts and was putting a lid over my cup when I saw her take a quick glance at me. The glance was so fast that I would not have noticed it if I were not a sharp babe. My heart skipped a bit as I suddenly suspected what had happened. I slowly raised my hands reaching for my hair and there it was, I had worn my hairnet to work! I have no idea of how it happened since I had stood in front of the mirror applying my makeup that morning. I was so embarrassed and tried to quickly remove the net as covertly as I could but I could not help thinking about how many people had seen me in that state that morning – the people on the coffee queue and all the people on the road that I had walked past on my way to work (yes, yes, I know that they don’t know me but still, they have eyes!). No wonder the waitress had not said anything about my beautiful African braids, as she liked to call them.
I took my drink and headed back to my office with my hairnet in my pocket. I wondered what I would have done if I had been in her shoes; would I have told her that her hairnet was on or just ignored it as she did? Nevertheless, I could not blame her for my own forgetfulness; I could only blame my hormonal changes and womanhood. I tried to console myself by saying to myself that my hairnet wasn’t as bad looking; it was one of the usual black knitted ones with spaces in between and so at least a part of my hair was still showing. I also thought about how it could have been worse; one of my aunts had once told me that she had mistakenly worn her wig cap (without the wig) to a big store before. So truly, my case was not the worst in history but I knew that henceforth I had to be more cautious during these periods.
So it was this experience of mine above along with a few others, that made me check my internet for the cause of my problems and then I came across the word ‘PMS’. From my research, PMS is caused by hormonal and chemical changes in the body and brain in preparation for menses during the menstrual cycle. PMS, apparently, can make you forgetful (just as in my hairnet case), get you emotional and give you crying spells (I experienced a really bad one that same period. The poor dude that I was crying to looked confused and helpless. I do not even remember why I was crying, that’s how petty the reason was but I continued uncontrollably for an hour). Other symptoms associated with this syndrome include tender breasts, food cravings, mood swings, poor concentration, and fatigue like I mentioned earlier. Depression, acne and pain are also common such that some people take medications for them. So if you are having any of these strange feelings or changes just before your period begins, fear not; you are not alone! However, do not hesitate to visit your doctor if you cannot help yourself.
A few personal tips that might be useful are:
·         Being aware – when you are aware of what is going on within you, then you may be more relaxed and comfortable and be in a better place of mind to plan. So take some time out and read about PMS and its associated symptoms.
·         Staying away from annoying people – so if you know people that are generally annoying, try to avoid them during this period since you are more likely to be irritable. You don’t want to find yourself yelling at someone in the office.
·         Eating healthy – Food cravings are common and so try to stock yourself and your environment with healthy foods and drinks like fruits so that once you feel like eating, you would be eating an apple instead of a chocolate bar which you might regret in the near future.
·         Lastly, enjoy the moment while it lasts – yup! While menstruation has its snags, remember that menopause is a different ball game.

I hope I have shared something useful today and please leave your comments below. Thank you and have a great week.

Twitter handle: @vivio_gogo

Instagram: @ugochiukah

Saturday, 24 October 2015


Hello Hi,

I hope you are doing great. I'm back again with a new post from one of my trips. By the way, my last bellanaija article can be found here.

Enjoy the story below and as usual, please share your thoughts and this post. Cheers!


A few weeks ago, I took a trip to Paris, France. I was very excited for various reasons – firstly, this was my first time in France or anywhere else in Europe outside the UK; secondly, I was travelling alone; and thirdly, I was looking forward to practising the little French that I had learnt over the years. Before leaving for my journey, I got many tips from a family friend who had lived in Paris for some years and I browsed the internet widely for ideas of places to visit. I had written down all the places that I wanted to visit, the foods I wanted to eat and the paths to cover within the city. The trip was an ambitious one because I was only spending 2 nights and 1 day in but I was enthusiastic that I would achieve most of the things on my list. So by the time I got on the plane, I had everything planned out. I was going to stay in a hostel close to Notre-Dame cathedral which was a perfect location for me.

 I arrived in Charles De Gaulle airport at night, got a map from the airport and made my way into the city room using the metro. I got out of St. Paul’s metro station, which was the closest to my destination, and I began to trace my way to the hostel.  The roads were so close to each other that before I knew it, I was lost (a trait not very uncommon with me). I found myself quite a distance away from where I was headed and it took me another twenty minutes to find my way back to the hostel. By the time I checked into the hostel, I was too tired to think or speak in French so I just replied ‘No’ when the receptionist asked me if I spoke any French. I took my room key and headed for my room. The room was a small and stuffy but clean place with a window that had a nice view. There were four beds downstairs and I saw there was a staircase leading upstairs but I did not climb up. I had been assigned to bed number 2 but to my surprise, someone else was already occupying it. I spoke to the lady on my bed; she claimed that we could stay anywhere and so she asked me to move upstairs so that she could stay close to her friend who was on the next bed. I was not having it because I was not ready to move my bag upstairs so I insisted that she moved to her assigned bed, which she complied with grudgingly. Just before going to bed, I wanted to charge my phone for a while. I had brought a UK adaptor only for me to realise that the sockets in France were different. I was surprised; how come nobody had mentioned that to me? At last, I had to turn to the girl on the next bed, the friend of the one I had chased away from my bed, to borrow her adaptor. You see, usually I may have felt so bad or ashamed for the way I treated her friend to ask her for her adaptor, but I was too tired to have any feelings at this point. I just plugged my phone in and fell asleep.

I woke up the next morning by 4am; I was still a little jetlagged. Normally, the time on my phone would have changed automatically whenever I traveled to the roaming time but this time around, it did not. Therefore, I had to keep doing the calculations of the current time in Paris in my head. I got up, took a shower and left the hostel by 5.30am to take a quick walk. I strolled down the streets, taking in the beauty of the city at sunrise and taking pictures as I walked down to the Bastille. It was indeed a very beautiful place! On my way back to my room, I found one of the Patisserie where I had planned to buy snacks from, a place called Miss Manon. So I stopped by to get some breakfast.
“Bonjour! Je voudrais un gâteau et croissant aux amandes… s'il vous plaît?” (I would like a cake and almond croissant) I began, as if I were fluent.
The sales girl smiled and responded so quickly that I found myself saying “Sorry?”
She looked at me with a smirk and then she replied in English, “What type of cake do you want?”
“Oh!” I said slightly embarrassed and then I pointed. She asked if I wanted anything else and I started my French again.
“Oui. Je voudrais une baguette traditionnelle aussi.” (I would like a traditional baguette)
She spoke again and this time, I apologised and told her that I could barely understand her and that I was still learning French. She smiled again and said she already knew that and from then onwards, she spoke English to me regardless of whether or not I spoke French to her.  She asked me when I was leaving Paris and invited me to come over for breakfast the next day before leaving for the airport and have the baguette then instead. The store opened by 6.30 am and they had one of the best coffee, she said. So I took only the piece of cake and croissant and promised to return the following day. By the time I left the store, my confidence in my ability to understand any French had plummeted.

I went back to the hostel, had breakfast and set out for my journey. Walking on Pont Marie, one of the bridges leading to the small island, I made my way towards the Cathedral. There was a long queue to go up the church tower but I was more interested in just seeing inside the church so I joined the shorter queue or somehow I walked past it into the church (I do not remember which one). The Notre-Dame was truly spectacular, with amazing sculptures, paintings, chapels, windows and most of all, a captivating history behind it. There were a few signs that read ‘no photos’ so I only took pictures :p. After spending about half an hour in there and saying some prayers, I left to make my way to Sainte Chapelle, another beautiful church on the big island. On my way there, I stopped by a shop with ‘Berthillon’ written above it. I had heard that Berthillon ice cream was one of the best in Paris and even though it was still quite early in the day, I was ready to try some of it. There was a black man in there selling the ice cream and crêpe.
“Bonjour! Ça va?” I began.
“Bonjour….Ça va et tu?” He said cheerfully, he seems like a very pleasant fellow.
I needed to know what flavours of ice cream he had but I did not know how to say this in French so I switched to English. That was where my troubles began. The man began shaking his head and saying “Parle français, seulement français…” (speak French, only French)
I tried to explain to him that my command of the language was poor but he kept smiling and insisting that I continued with French. I knew he could understand English because the man who had bought ice cream just before me had spoken English to him throughout. I figured out that he was trying to encourage me to speak French but I was truly stuck. And so after trying hard, I ended up placing an order for crêpe whilst thinking I was ordering for a banana flavoured ice cream.
“No no! I meant Ice cream!” I had to exclaim when I saw him pouring the flour and banana.

By this time, it was too late; the crêpe was ready. So I told him that I would pay for the crêpe and still buy the ice cream. The man refused; he said that ice cream and crêpe do not go together. No matter how hard I tried to convince him that I would pay for both and that I would eat one after the other, he was adamant. So I was left with no other choice but to take the crêpe only and return for the ice cream later. When I left his shop, I vowed not to speak a word of French to anybody again that day!

To be continued....

Have a great weekend and week ahead.

Twitter handle: @vivio_gogo

Instagram: @ugochiukah

Friday, 25 September 2015


Hello hi,

2 posts in a week, yay! I'm trying to make up for the gap period, lol. So I just thought to summarize my previous Bellanaija article here and give a few points on questions that should be avoided on a first date. Now I do not claim to be a date or relationship expert but these are merely thoughts from me or/and experiences of other that I have heard about which many people agree not to like. So enjoy :) :



Like I previously mentioned on Bellanaija, dates should be enjoyable and used to get to know about each other in a relaxing manner. Therefore, bringing up certain topics which might get things get uncomfortable should be avoided, especially on the first date. Here are five questions that I think you should not ask on first dates:

1. Questions about finances: Yes, it is okay to talk about one’s occupation and job roles on the date but it does not seem proper to ask people about their income, net worth or related issues. This might sound surprising but many people get questions about the cost of their cars, homes and even family net worth and social statuses on first dates.  Rather, try to focus on similarities and things about your date’s job or career that you might find interesting.

2. Marital questions: Even if marriage is your ultimate goal for dating, it is best to get to know your date better before popping out questions like - So when do you wish to get married or what do you think about marriage? Some people think it is less obvious when they ask questions about genotype instead or if your date will be willing to relocate to another city for love but those are just as overt as asking the person to marry you directly. Such questions might sound too straightforward and scare your date away such that you might not get a second one.

3. Cases of the Ex’s: It is quite annoying when people ask questions or start to talk about their past relationships on a first date. Asking someone why they broke up with their ex-girlfriends or boyfriends or why they have been out of a relationship is quite personal for a first date. Such questions should be preserved for later when the other party is comfortable enough to tell you.

4. Future goals: Contrary to the book ‘Think like a man”, I do not think it is cool to ask people about their short term or long term goals on a first date. There are other creative ways to obtain information about if one is driven without making your date seem like a job interview.

5. Home-making skills and Special talents: Questions like – can you cook, can you build a house, can we make healthy babies, are you a great hunter etc. should not even be considered on a first date unless somehow it is within the context of the conversation but please try not to force them into your date time.

All of these may sound cliché but trust me, many people are still guilty. In conclusion, go out, relax, enjoy your dates and just be happy J

Happy weekend!

Twitter handle: @vivio_gogo                                Instagram: @ugochiukah

Thursday, 24 September 2015


Hello Hi,

Thank God it's Friday! Sorry I've been away for a while, I have been travelling a lot! This year has been my busiest year so far but I am thankful for it. Next week, I hope to share some of my travel experiences with you but today, I have a story from the talented Etoh, again! I know, he's fast becoming one of my fave writers. As usual, please leave your comments below, like the Google icon and share. Also tell a friend to tell another please :).  By the way,my last article published on BellaNaija can be found here. Enjoy:

                                                                                                      Pic source:

I sat on the edge of his clean carved chair that was painted brown and looked so expensive, crossed my legs so that the left was on top of the right, and my hands were safely placed on the cap. I knew this wasn’t going to be a funny ride, but at least Tayo had encouraged that I tried as much as I could to enjoy it, after all what harm could it bring to a fighter like me, a desperate lady like myself that sought after fame like the United States after oil? I actually didn’t care about any other thing at the moment, but what I needed to do to push my way to limelight.

I carefully observed the house, and made sure I was at the right place. I heard he was the best man in the game and if I was to make it quick, he was the person I was supposed to see. And that I was sure I was going to be doing more often.
His flat was actually nice, at least it was well furnished, and from what I saw in his wallet that lay on the center table, he had some cash to throw around.

“I know you are a little tensed up?” he spoke up from a door that separated his room from the sitting room. He was sipping from a cup something that seemed like a pure Lipton, and had a banana on his other hand.

“I heard this two were catalyst to a great performance, and can prevent laxity and quick tiredness when on top of something.”

“Kind of” I gave him a funny look in return, and made sure he realized I was shy, or probably think so.

“Your first time?” he asked looking down to something that lay below his trousers.
I nodded my head in acceptance, not thinking for once if there was any negativity in accepting I was new to this kind of profession. It was a decision I didn’t need to rethink, and his asking me started to push my urge some more, and I couldn’t wait to witness his first stroke on something I had kept for just my eyes all these years.

He stood all open to my eyes; I guess he wanted me to see the private part of himself that Tayo said he much boasted about. I never cared less, because I knew I could handle anything of such magnitude that came my way. I had started reading about such since I was ten, I took greater steps when I had to administer what I learnt on anything I could lay my hands on, something I was sure would convince me of my readiness to face a more physical creature, and I was more than assured I wasn’t going to be immature today.

“Show me what you’ve got?” he said.
I got up, went straight to the side where I had left my shoes, and then I dropped every other thing I had brought, ensuring I had nothing on me.
I was bent on making sure he took me more seriously, not once was I going to bluff this chance of rubbing minds with the highly placed.

“How long have you kept this?” as he spoke he dropped the cup he was sipping from on a little table close to a fine black couch.

 “I have tried letting go of it, but fear of the unknown held me back.” I spoke wrapping the towel around my right hand. “I wanted my first time to be one I would cherish for a longtime, not something I would regret and then curse myself.”
I was sure my answer was cool and convincing as he kept shaking his head; he must have concurred with my replies, I knew because he couldn’t stop looking at me and smiling sheepishly.

“Well spoken” he said “so can we begin?”
As I heard the words drop, my heart skipped, and I suddenly started to feel terrified. I feared he might not find me exciting as I wanted, or he may get bored few seconds into the duel, at least Tayo also said that was not to be written off. I was scared of him withdrawing in the middle of it, which would make me look stupid and useless. I started to think of reasons why I ventured this far, why I made sure there was no turning back once I stepped my foot into his house.

“Please can you be easy on me? You know it’s my first time, so you might not get the satisfaction you find in other old timers” I said looking pale.
“You know…when your friend told me about you, she said you were desperate, why?”
“I don’t want to bore you with my life story, but the main thing is that I come from a poor family, so I want to be able to train my younger ones, so they would have better opportunities than I had, and then make enough cash to take my family out of the poverty line.”
“I don’t think this profession is an escape route from poverty” he said avoiding my face.
“Why do you think so?” I was beginning to get scared.
“You might not get the exact kind of lifestyle you wish for. Or even if it comes, it might take a while, especially as you are new into it”

He spoke and spoke, delaying the whole process, and killing the urge I had taken the time to prepare. It wasn’t like Tayo didn’t tell me all this, I just thought that everyone’s destiny wasn’t the same. I had stopped listening to whatever he was saying, and was beginning to look around the room for a good place we could stay and begin the business that brought me here. I looked at the couch, weighed it and decided it was going to be great for beginners like myself. After all Tayo said her first time was done exactly on the same surface, and although she didn’t tell me how the whole process went, I had a feeling that it was a smooth ride.

He was done talking, and since he was sure his convictions weren’t going to change my mind, he sat down on the same couch I had also been checking out, gestured me to come sit close to him, and then without much thought, we went down into action.
He didn’t stop praising me every time he caught his breathe, he kept exaggerating and saying I was blowing his mind away, and that he actually didn’t believe it was my first time. I was flattered, but I never showed it, Tayo said it was wrong to feel on top of your game at the beginning stage, and so I kept a mute side, and let him do the talking and show all the excitement.

And a little above an hour, after some stroking and exchange of passions, we were done, with a loud yell of satisfaction from him. I was actually glad I lasted this long with him, and it made me smile. I knew I had arrived, and I was going to be a star in this game. He kept staring at me, and shaking his head, and smiling, all at the same time. And for the first time I was flattered so that I turned my back so he didn’t see me blush.

“Thank you so much” his words rose behind me.
I shook my head as I bent down to pick my stuff. I was done with him, at least the preparations were worth it.

As I turned to leave his house, he grabbed my arm and said, “I can’t wait to see it published, your story was so captivating, and I am privileged to have edited it”

I said a trailer loads of thank you as I carefully slipped my wrist away from his firm masculine hold; I didn’t want to risk him taking pleasure in me. Or worse, asking me to stay some more. Men could be deceptive, Tayo had said, so I had to kill any chance of complacency as my career is just about kicking off.

Have a lovely weekend. Please follwo me on twitter: @vivio_gogo and  IG: @UgochiUkah

Sunday, 23 August 2015


Hello Hi,

Happy Sunday! Today, I have a poem for you which I wrote sometime ago. I hope you enjoy it. Please like the Google icon and leave your comments below. Also tell a friend to tell another please :).  By the way,my last article published on BellaNaija can be found here. Have a lovely day.

                                                                         Pic source:

Just because you’re hot
You wear a pair of shorts
Your long legs are on point
But you give them no thoughts

Just because you’re hot
Sweat pours down your chest
Some people watch with interest
As you run quite a distance

Just because it’s hot
Your skin begins to burn
So you try hard to avoid the sun
But then your nose begins to run

Just because you were too hot
Later that night you feel a rush
Your body looks really flushed
And you shiver and shiver a lot

Just because you’re Hot
You introduce yourself to the nurse
She looks at your name with a bewildered pause
And wonders why your mum actually named you “Hot”

Have a great week. 
For more updates, twitter: @vivio_gogo , IG: @UgochiUkah

Monday, 10 August 2015


Hello Hi,

I hope your week is settling in great! You can check out my article published on BellaNaija here. I'm back this week with a nicely written article by Etoh. Please check it out below and kindly share and leave your comments :)


Picture source:

I had just finished running more than a kilometer under the rain in search of a shelter from the growing and windy august rain, a kind I was sure would grant me sure access into the fever line. And because I couldn’t get any keke napep to quicken my journey to my interview location, I was soaked beyond wetness that I felt my underpants were becoming heavy like I wore a shield. The files that contained my curriculum vitae were so soaked that I had considered throwing them away at one point; my life was in jeopardy more so because I had an interview in an hour time, an appointment that I was sure would end my four years search for a job. It was devastating.
I reached a T Junction and still there was no corner shop or even a spoilt keke napep to take refuge while I prayed for the rain to stop. I was so pained that I started to cry, and still didn’t stop running; it was funny though, but I needed to remind myself I was still human.
“Sisssssssss…” a voice called.
The rainfall was so much and accompanied with a very noisy wind such that I could barely see. I stopped and turned to see who had ‘sissssed’ at me, hoping greatly that the caller had a place I could hide from the rain.
“Come and stay here oo” the voice called out again some miles from me.
Placing my hands firmly on my eye brows ensuring I stopped the rains from obstructing my view, I was able to sight some human figures under a covered zinc structure. Without thinking twice, I made a fast one to the location, running and smashing into gutters and ditches like it was a fun thing to do.
“Thank you so much” I said immediately I entered the shop that barely had space.
I actually didn’t care if the space was going to house me; all I did was to turn to anyone I saw and said thanks as I bowed my head alongside. The space was so small, and it looked like a shop where cigarettes and kai-kai (gin) were sold. A bench that was occupied mainly with women numbering about seven was placed at the center of the shop, because everyone was avoiding the edges of the shop due to the leaking zinc. There were about five other people standing tightly behind them, and most of them were men.
“Were you going to keep running under the rain if we didn’t call you?” one of those sitting asked.
Omo yes’s not like I have a mansion around here” I joked as I tried packaging my wet self after noticing the pretty lady that asked me the question.
She had asked and then kept quiet so fast, she didn’t even care about the reply I had specially arranged for her amusement. She had caught my attention like a nice Nike shoes would. She had turned my head upside down so fast that I actually stared at her without minding the consequences. She was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen, and for some reasons she was smiling as she looked at her phone, and this made her look even prettier. And I just wasn’t going to ignore that, not even now that I needed a woman in my life.
“Hey!” I called out facing her direction and then gesturing with my head.
She didn’t even care to look up; guess the fun that emanated from her telephone device encapsulated her so much that she didn’t even look up like everyone else did. Too bad I wasn’t referring to anyone else, but her.
“Hey lady” I matched my call with two steps of boldness and strength, enough to aid Spartan warriors win the Peloponnesian war.
But still she was unshaken by the weight of my approach, as she continued to tap the screen of her phone with so much happiness. I even dared to wave my hands in-between her face and the phone, just to get her attention. But still she ignored me. And it was frustrating because I was beginning to draw the attention of other occupants of the shelter.
Then bending down enough to get even with her face, I said the softest hello known to man. I knew what I wanted, and I knew definitely that beholding such beauty was going to be a great, and powerful catch. I wasn’t going to let go without putting up a strong fight, and that was exactly what I was about to start.
“Please would you stop this and get up, you’re embarrassing me” she pleaded without looking at me.
I smiled at her plea, I had learnt in secondary school that girls get a little shy when they fall for a man’s advances. At least I knew she noticed me, the next thing was to ensure I held up a conversation with her. I was poised to get her to look at me and then we could hook up well, “at least I’m a fine boy” I thought. I had forgotten about my wet clothes and the people who must have noticed my behaviors, and whether they approved of it did not bother me. I was out to hit my target; such opportunities come once in twenty years; I guessed that was probably the reason why some men get married late after missing such good targets.
“So please what’s the name?” I asked smiling funnily.
She was quiet for another ten seconds, but unlike her other silence spree, she had stopped flirting with her phone, and had put it inside her bag.
“So I guessed I looked for your trouble by speaking up to you right” she asked as she ensured her phone was placed comfortably in her bag.
I had no clue what to reply her, and I even wasn’t sure she needed me to answer. So I just smiled and waited for her to say something worth talking back.
And after another silent moment between us, I spoke up still smiling. “So please your name?”
“Lucky, I told you that inside the bus we took from Kubwa” she spoke smiling mockingly.
I was confused and taken aback at her response. “What in any name is she talking about?” I thought in awe. I had every reason to be sure she was making a call, or talking to someone other than myself. And I felt embarrassed because I thought we were supposed to be having a conversation, and here she was insinuating something out of the box. I was still lost in the radicalism of her response when she spoke up again, and this time looking straight into my face.
“Lucky, you asked me out in the bus this afternoon, abi you no dey remember person face?”
As she looked at me, I suddenly remembered her face. Truthfully she was the same lady I had held up a discussion with earlier this afternoon in the bus. And yes I had asked her out saying that I liked the smell of her perfume. I felt embarrassed as everyone now turned to our direction, and I guess the fear of the unknown was the only thing that stopped them from laughing at me. It was like I was desperate for a girlfriend, or as most of them would think ‘I am a pervert’, the one that goes around asking girls out for pleasure.
“You better put your house together and stop this attitude of harassing girls, make you no go ask ogbanje out oo” she spoke and ran into the rain.
I stood there wishing I could just vanish into the atmosphere. It wasn’t like I was desperate for a wife, but calls from home and from mama had made me a chaser of everything in skirt. I was now in the lookout for every lady that looked single, and would jump into any opportunity to talk to one and to ask her out. I was still lost in confusion when another female figure dashed into the shelter shivering and complaining of her wet hair. I looked at her with so much sweetness and a salivating urge to approach her.
Ahhh… Lucky you’re here sef, I haven’t heard from you since I gave you my number, how you dey?” she spoke to my amazement.
“Who is she sef?” I asked myself, more confused than I was minutes ago.
The End

Have a beautiful week x. For more updates, twitter: @vivio_gogo , IG: @UgochiUkah