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Post Baffday Sermon



A few minutes into my birthday, I started to feel hungry.


I remembered buying a scotched egg earlier in the day, so I scrambled around my room till I found it. As soon as I did, I popped it into the microwave and set the timer to one minute.


And then, I continued to watch the cartoon I was.


A few seconds later, I was startled from my seat by a mini explosion from the microwave. For a few moments I was confused – and then, I realized what happened.


A few months ago, I bought an eggroll from a spot in my neighborhood. I got home and heated it with the microwave and settled down to eat it. I took a bite – and the egg exploded in my mouth. I shit you not.


For days, I walked around with raw lips. I couldn’t close my mouth completely; I couldn’t eat.


But I could drink. And I drank. A lot.


Of Monster; that is.


Anyways, I opened the microwave and the egg was splattered across the four corners of it. I gently closed it once again and sat at my computer once more.


I tell that story to say this; I’m thankful.


I look back and think how far I’ve come. Been through my shares of downs; nights I didn’t want to wake in the morning. The mountains are more than the valleys these days – and I’m really thankful. Really.


I’m just a guy from around the way – yet the way you people treat me, I start to think I’m some kind of a big deal.  Don’t get it twisted; I see these things. I try not to forget who I am; I try not to let it get to my head.


‘See the same sword the knight you/’s the same one they gon’ goodnight you with’.

Jay Z said that.


Look, I’m nowhere near where I want to be. But I’m nowhere near where I was, and it’s because I; among other things, have some of the best people in the world rooting for me.


How can I miss with that?


Thank you for your kind words. Thank you for your support and love. Thank you for the inspiration. Thank you for celebrating me and with me for years and years.


I’m thankful.


And oh, in case you missed the morale of the ‘Tale of the Scotched Egg’, this is it: imagine the egg had exploded in my belly. On my birthday morning.



No be my village pipo go get the credit?



Quick Review: Ant Man and The Wasp


Ant Man and The Wasp is a ‘chilling’ kind of movie.




The type of movie that puts the ‘chill’ in ‘Netflix and you-know-what’. The kind of movie to be watched on a Saturday evening between Premier League matches. The kind of movie you watch with your special someone, just holding each other.

Nobody’s here to save the world; we have Tony ‘Stank’ and the bearded Captain and ‘The Blek Pentha’ and Odinson and the Widow who was never married and the Scarlet flyer and – we have them for all that.

We’re not that ambitious. We’re just trying to remind you of the things we mere mortals care about. Like love. And family. And loyalty. And faith. And how children are little blessings – whether male, female or confused. And how love, faith and hope, and of these three…





It’s the kind of movie that reminds you why it’s important to always do the right thing – no matter how unsure you are. The kind of movie that shows you how it is possible; despite all your good intentions, to be the bad guy in someone else’s story. And that’s okay.

It’s okay, because you won’t answer to them anyway. You’re responsible to yourself and to God – if you believe in that – and really, that’s all that matters. As long as you can look yourself in the eye and know; in the most secret places of your heart, that ‘I did what I thought was the best thing’.

Last last, we go dey alright.

Ant Man and The Wasp is the kind of movie you watch with your significant other, who can make cold akara taste like manna from heaven just because you’re eating it from his/her hand. It’s the kind of movie that makes you look them in the eye and remember all the things that made him/her/them your special someone.  It’s the kind of movie that makes our great Nollywood write shit like ‘nine months later’ on the TV screen.




DISCLAIMER: Oga/Madam, if you’re single, don’t go to the cinema to watch it o. Stay in your house, or ask Google where it is showing online. It’s for your own protection o.

I’m not even playing. Some guy nearly got himself slapped yesterday because he had forgotten he was single, and in one particular tense moment, grabbed the nearest someone – who happened to be somebody else’s special someone.

DISCLAIMER 2: If you were screaming during the high-octane scenes of the Fast and The Furious, if you like high-stakes adrenaline movies, this one IS NOT for you.

Stay in your house.


Review: RED OCTOBER by Sewedo Nupowaku is a Joy to behold!!

First Review of this work…ENJOY!!!

The Comics Meltdown


Written by Sewedo Nupowaku, Seun Odukoya and Hannu Afere.

Line Art by Babajide Briggs Adebimpe

Colours by Toyin Adetumobi, Amadi Chigozie, Tarella Pablo, Michael Balogun, Jeffery Oyem and Waliu Edu

The Cover art by Babajide Briggs Adebimpe, Oladejo Kazeem and Babajide Olusanya

Sewedo Nupowaku is a long member and friend of the Comics Meltdown. He has always been known to endorse great comics and to rave on great art. When we heard last year that he was creating his own comic, we were aware it would not be anything but a masterpiece.


Come June, 2018, he and his team on the Hyperdrive released Red October, a story of intrigue, history & action woven with African lore into a Nigerian Story. The comics sets a pretty high standard from the get go in its plotting and story sequence. Creating a scenery for a high level of intricate story…

View original post 222 more words


Imagine you had a terrible fight with your significant other yesterday.

Imagine the fight was over something insignificant – but it was so bad the both of you said things you know well enough should never be said between acquaintances – how much more, lovers.

Both of you stormed away, agreeing for once after three hours of yelling that you were not working so it’s time to give it a rest. Of course, there was a little hurt in your chest area – but you didn’t care. That’s how disrespect starts in a relationship, you tell yourself.

Better to end it now.

Hours and a few drinks later, you have clarity you didn’t have in the heat of the moment. And then, it occurs to you you may have overreacted. You shouldn’t have said those things you said – more so because you didn’t mean them. You were just trying to hurt like you were being hurt.

So, you pick up the phone and call the most familiar number in the world. Your breath hitches as it starts to ring – and then, it’s suddenly unavailable. And so it is for the next one thousand and one times you try. In frustration you hurl your Techno Phantom into the wall and crawl onto your bed.

Tomorrow is another day.

Only – there’s no tomorrow – not for the both of you. You wake up hours later to the news of an exploded tanker and tens of cars caught up in the inferno. You grab your half-blind phone and hurry to Instagram – and it’s worse than you could have imagined. And then, shock turns to horror as you realize…

The one person you would have mourned with was in the blaze. And the last words y’all shared were not the kindest.

The phone drops from your shaking hand and lands facedown, completing it’s demise.

But you don’t notice. The last few hours play over and over in your mind…and suddenly, you begin to laugh. Crazy, maniacal laughter bounces off the walls of your room and vibrate against your ears.

However, you don’t notice.

Truth is, you’re probably past noticing anything.

Life is short. Make peace.

#NigerianLivesMatter #OtedolaTragedy #RestInPeaceToAll #BlackWeek #MourningAllDay

Coming To You Live: Trinity



So I have been working for a minute on a project that is quite dear to me – simply because it concerns my first love: comics. I collaborated with a couple brilliant people and together we created this piece of fiction; the preview of which I am so proud to share with you.

Without further ado:




Father Moses Shaw, a British spy, found religion after the Biafran War. Yet, he has since built the most formidable intelligence database on the African continent.


Zain Zubayr, driven, stylish and West Point-trained is Hausa royalty and a high-flying New York attorney who must return to Nigeria to investigate the lies surrounding the legacies of her slain father.


The Ghost is the aging, institutional enforcer of a century-old secret society allegedly founded by anti-colonialist hero, Herbert Macaulay. Haunted and hunted by his past, he pays penance as a ruthless vigilante on the streets of Lagos.


These three unlikely allies must face their demons while crusading against the overwhelming forces out to destroy an already divided nation.

This high octane conspiracy thriller is essentially the secret history of Nigeria, scribbled in blood and bile, chronicling a raging feud that threatens to consume this fragile union and its embattled, oblivious citizens as fresh elections draw near. Nothing is going to prepare them for the Red October Protocols.

Nothing can save them now.

‘Thunder will break, earth bind me fast. 
Obduracy, the disease of elephants.’ 
– Christopher Okigbo



Now enjoy the cover and first few pages off Trinity: Red October


Trinity Issue 1 Cover


Trinity Issue 1 Page 2

Trinity Issue 1 Page 3

Trinity Issue 1 Page 4

Trinity Issue 1 Page 5



Go download your free preview here now!



For The Stranger In Red


If you’re the pretty lady who was sitting in The Palms food court on Saturday, wearing a bright red sweater over Ankara print pants, reading Buchi Emecheta’s Double Yoke, who didn’t mind a little girl coming over, taking you out of your fun and asking if you were married just because she wanted to ask if you would marry her father who was ‘sad all the time’…


I apologize.


And I want to thank you for being kind and understanding to a child who, in the most innocent and naïve of ways, thinks the way to fix loneliness is to find someone to be with. She doesn’t understand that two people can physically stand together – and yet be so far apart a whole equator can fit in the space between them. She doesn’t understand loneliness. Not yet.


But you do, don’t you?


I believe you do. That’s why you were so kind and patient and wondering what happened to her mother. Maybe one day, if the fates allow it, we will sit again, you and I, talk about the things that isolate people like us despite being in the crowded center of a crowded state in a crowded country.


Maybe one day. For now tho…


Thank you for understanding.

Breaking Spaghetti or Not.


I was thinking yesterday (yes; I think ONLY once a week, you should try it!) about how I usually learn my biggest life lessons through happenstance.

This particular story happened while I was in the university – part three to be exact. I had this housemate who was brainy – so brainy; he taught ALL the females in his department. I did think it was strange his brain only had an affinity for teaching females – but what do I know?
Anyways, the afternoon this thing I’m about to tell you about happened, I was home, hungry and, looking through the house, I saw I had stew. Spaghetti’s easy to cook, so I decided.
I was going to eat spaghetti.
I started to cook it how mum taught me – steam water, add salt, boil, and then add the spaghetti. I didn’t realize I had an audience.
Soon enough, the water began to boil and I added the spaghetti – again, like mum taught me – lengthwise and pushing them in as they softened. At this point, my watching audience who had been wondering what I was doing, jumped out of cover and started screaming, “Aha! See this bush man!!! How can you be cooking spag without breaking it?!!”
I stopped and watched his antics for a moment. And then, when he quieted down I asked him; “Did it occur to you that if it was supposed to be broken, the makers would have broken it for you?”
Clearly it hadn’t. He considered that while I played like Jesus, ignored him and puttered away at my cooking. After almost ten minutes, ten minutes during which I had forgotten he was beside me, he suddenly said, “Sha, last last you be ajebo.”
I had nothing to say to that – because I was having an epiphany.
See, I had always thought the dude was smarter than me. Somehow, he used to make me feel like I was wasting my time being in school – because I believed if I can’t be the best there’s no use doing it. But in that moment?
I realized – there’s a world of difference between being school-brilliant and being generally intelligent. I realized I had no reason to feel small around him – or anyone else for that matter. Maybe I wasn’t as brilliant as him; I wasn’t doing too bad for my age. And I knew if I faced my studies squarely, I’d be just as – if not more so. I just didn’t like school.
And while there’s nothing wrong with having school-brilliant and general intelligence, if I had to choose one –
You guessed it. Enjoy the long weekend.

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