Danfo Diaries episode 4: Shine your eyes. And your ears too!


Rain. Lagos. I dislike the combination immensely, but this is our present reality. Like everyone else, I just deal with it and move on. I hope you’re not having a hard time of it. Moving around in Lagos is a chore already, the rains just compound the situation with hike in prices on some routes, and the usual “potopoto” everywhere.

My son Matt, (well, we were classmates in uni but somehow I managed to graduate with two sons. Don’t ask me how. Lol) is a Jos – bred boy. His family moved to Lagos when he was already grown. Currently he’s completing his masters degree, but decided to come down to Lagos and spend time with family and friends.

This fateful day, he had finished some business at Apapa and on leaving, asked his host for directions on how to get to Bariga. He received these instructions : “From here, take a bus to Mile 2. From Mile 2,take a bus to Oyingbo. Then from Oyingbo, you’ll get a bus to Bariga”. Instructions noted. He took a bus to Mile 2 as instructed, and when he alighted, he was going towards the big danfos called “Molue”, that plied the Oyingbo route, when he heard “Bariga! Bariga!”. What luck! He immediately hurried and got on the bus, happy that it was a small one and would fill up quickly. He couldn’t believe his luck, and, just to be sure, he asked the conductor, “Na Bariga abi?” And he vigorously answered in the affirmative. They began the journey. And what a journey it turned out to be!

As a jayjaycee, he really couldn’t tell that he was on the wrong route, until the journey got really long. When he finally registered his surroundings, he realised one thing. This could only be Lagos Island! What the heck was the relationship between Bariga and Marina? He accosted the conductor who was bewildered. “But na Marina I dey call now! Bariga keh? Who dey go Bariga? Abi you no dey hear well”? 😭😰😥.

My people, so began he the journey from the Island back to the Mainland. That is the tale of how a 2 hour journey extended to more than four hours. We had a great laugh when he told me about this incident. What a welcome party Lagos gave him!

I hope you, my dear reader learnt something from this. If you no sabi road, and you ask for directions, follow the directions to a Tee! Don’t shine your eyes alone, shine your ears too, because Lagos conductors have diverse accents. Marina could sound like Bariga to you too if you don’t take care. Lol.

Life is a journey that must be travelled no matter how bad the roads and accommodations –  Oliver Goldsmith 

For you reading this blog, I love you. And thank you. You’re the reason I still write.

Be your awesome self.

Love, Chibugo.

90s chick; nerd, humanitarian; lover of life, family, fashion, food, art and literature; Christian by birth and choice. In short, I’m like jollof rice: you’re gonna love me. 😉

Danfo Diaries episode 3 : How to survive Lagos traffic : Shop!

Happy new month my people. Like play like play, this year has gone halfway. Don’t beat yourself up if like me, you’ve still not been able to achieve your personal targets for the year. One day at a time, na ein sure pass.

Now to our danfo series. Today’s post is quite interesting. One thing I love Lagosians for, is their ability to turn every disadvantage into an opportunity. You see, seated in traffic, you’re bound to think of the many things you’d rather be doing with the hours you spend flattening your buttocks in that rickety bus. Now the hawkers have transformed the highway into a kind of market, teaching commuters a means of fighting bus-lag: shopping!

Took this photo from atop Cele Pedestrian bridge. Thought I would die standing there, but obviously I didn't. Eeek.

You will be astonished at the number and variety of things you can buy while in traffic. I admire the ingenuity of these hawkers who have turned this menace of traffic into a means of livelihood. You gotta applaud that. Have you ever helped a hawker bring down his/her wares from its cranial perch? Believe me when I say these guys carry their shops on their heads. That, coupled with constantly having to dodge speeding vehicles and greedy, violent touts, is no mean feat. Everytime I come across an honest road trader, I say a silent prayer that he/she moves to a higher level. That kain suffer no be here oh.

Like I was saying before I digressed, the variety of things you will see to buy on the roads are fantastically diverse. If you think I’m exaggerating, oya check out this list I wrote while stuck in a late evening traffic coming from the Cele-Okota Link bridge, inwards Ago Palace Way; my usual route😉

1. Gala, chinchin, other snacks

2. Soft drinks and water(they go: “Botu water lacasera minira! Botu water wazo wazo! i.e : fifty naira each. Hehe. Street code)

3. Apples and grapes(I bought some)

4. Mirrors of different sizes (don’t ask me, it’s what I saw)

5. Portrait sized pictures of Jesus

6. Hot water flasks (eh?)

7. Chocomilo cubes(I got this too. It’ll get Kiisa off my neck when I get home)

8. Clocks (really? Chei)

9. Full Plantains(you read correctly)

10. Ankara materials

11. Groundnuts, walnuts, chips (all ye hungry passengers)

12. Bread

13. Fresh vegetables (well, they looked fresh)

14. Children’s pyjamas (I kid you not)

15. Books

16. Jewelry

17. Rat killer. This one got me. Rat poison? Really? After feeding my eyes on all that awesome merchandise, na rat poison wan help me close market? Lol.

Still, I would rather give my money to these guys than to the beggars who hang around waiting for you to give them money for nothing. Your limbs are intact, your sight and speech are good, and you expect me to pay you for being lazy. Gerrarahia mehn! Many of them are robbers masquerading as beggars just to get you to wind down the Glass  of your widow before they strike. It doesn’t matter whether you’re on a bus or in your car. Please be careful, especially at night. That doesn’t exclude the hawkers who abscond with your change, especially when traffic begins to move and they know you cannot get down to give them a hot chase. Ndi oshi.

That said, it’s time to reveal the weirdest thing I’ve ever bought while in traffic: stockfish.  That’s right. Stockfish. The thing do me like nollywood film too. I’m not too surprised though, someone confessed to me that she had once bought almost all the ingredients for her pot of soup while in traffic. My people, I Kent. Lol.

Tell me your own experience down below in the comments section. Make my day too!

And keep being Awesome while at it!

Kisses, hugs, and fresh tomatoes,




90s chick; nerd, humanitarian; lover of life, family, fashion, food, art and literature; Christian by birth and choice. In short, I’m like jollof rice: you’re gonna love me. 😉

Monday Humor: We crazy like that

May came and went by so fast, didn’t it? Something seems to be chasing this year. I wonder where it’s running to. Anyway, we shall keep our flag flying no matter what.

So while in school, I was the serious type. Check this very funny post so you’ll understand. Always early to class, never late in submitting assignments, notes always intact, etc. Typically, I wasn’t very fashionable(I’m still not), but I managed to keep my head above water. Shirts to the rescue, most of the time. Now, second year is an academic year I do not want to ever remember because it was such a confusing time. We all had to run around like headless chickens that year, what with so many “borrowed courses”  and changes in existing systems. That was also the year of my worst GPA. Bleh. Terrible year.

So on this particular day, we just heard that a class would be in session. This was a course we had to borrow from statistics department and I was not finding it easy as we had had only one lecture throughout the semester and exams were close. Imagine the speed I used to rush out of the hostel when I heard that a class had been fixed. Almost sprained my ankle sprinting to Abuja building for a class I ended up not understanding sef. Mtchew.

I got to class, amid the usual boisterous greetings and haggling for seating space. There were very few girls there, as is typical of impromptu classes, and we got down to business when the lecturer came in. It was quite interactive, even though I could tell that half of the class, like me, wasn’t following fully.


Anyway, it ended and we were all having the usual after class discussions when someone blurted out: “Come oh, Chibugo, which style of wearing shirt be this nah?”. That was when I looked down at what I was wearing. 😩😢😥. I had worn my shirt inside out, and it was extremely obvious. It took me below 2 seconds to recover and throw back a light retort: “You didn’t know? Na the new style wey dey reign naaaw. No carry me play ooo!”  And we all laughed. I laughed loudest, but inside my mind, I was like this


It pays to have a sharp mouth, I tell you.

Kisses and hugs, and a happy democracy holiday to you.

Dont stop being awesome. ✌✌

90s chick; nerd, humanitarian; lover of life, family, fashion, food, art and literature; Christian by birth and choice. In short, I’m like jollof rice: you’re gonna love me. 😉

Monday Humor : Its a boy girl thing

Short, and hopefully, sweet.

It was one of those holidays in university. I had been home for a few days when this boy began pestering me. He always seemed to appear from nowhere, like a Phantom. I was nineteen, and he looked to be a little older than me but there was no sign that he ever did anything responsible but wear trendy clothes, press big phones, hang about the streets during the weekdays, and play ball on the same streets during the weekends. With my plans to have at least an MSc by 25, I wasn’t giving in to any irresponsible brat. I told him this in my nicest tone of voice, but as a fine boy, I guess he wasn’t used to being turned down. Chai.

Fast forward to a week after this. We were back from mass and preparing lunch when Mother realized we had run out of one ingredient, I can’t remember what exactly it was. I had to dash to the nearest shop to buy it. Gosh! Am I the only one who hates impromptu errands like this? Anyway, I had just walked a few metres out of the driveway when I came face to face with two teams of bare chested boys playing football. I feel extremely awkward when I have to pass by such a large group of boys(Even now. Sheesh), but the food was already cooking so I pushed each foot ahead of the other, walking on the other extreme of the street. Two more strides and I would be out of their sight, or so I thought.11615503-laughing-out-loud-emoticon-stock-vector-smiley-face-cartoon

At the same moment I thought this, something hit me really hard on my bum. Yes, my buttocks. I stumbled forward from the impact, but managed not to fall. It had hit me that hard. Those bloody boys had kicked their filthy ball at me! Straight on target too! I turned on them with such venom in my eyes, ready to kick butt, even if it meant that the food would cook a bit longer. The boys immediately began shouting apologies albeit in jocular tones. “Ah, fine sister, sorry oo. Na slip of ball”, “Abeg no vex”, “Aunty sorry abeg”. I was still angry, until I saw who wasn’t talking among the lot. My “toaster”  was standing at a very suspicious angle. Only someone at that angle could have kicked the ball so effectively. He wasn’t moving, just looking in the air with no expression on his face. I didn’t need a seer to tell me who had kicked the ball at me. Suddenly I wasn’t angry anymore. I began laughing. The boys joined me in my laughter, but I’m sure they wondered why I was laughing. I’d just been hit by a ball and I was laughing. If that ball had hit me on the head, they would have probably thought I had gone out of my mind from its impact. I dusted my shorts and kept moving. Lunch was on the cooker. Leave trash for LAWMA.

If they only knew. I was not laughing because it was funny; I was laughing because dear “toaster” had just showed me how right I was in not “agreeing”  for him. I never saw that boy in my area again. I have no idea why.

Nonsense and ingredients!

Have a productive week! Be friggin’ awesome!!! 

90s chick; nerd, humanitarian; lover of life, family, fashion, food, art and literature; Christian by birth and choice. In short, I’m like jollof rice: you’re gonna love me. 😉

Monday Humor : Oh Crap!

New week, have to work. Bleh. This is one of those Mondays I wish I were a kid again. One gets really tired of “adulting” sometimes. Anyway, since we gotta do what we gotta do, might as well do it with a spring in our step, eh?

Speaking of kids, what’s the stupidest thing you ever did as a kid? I did so many stupid things myself, that it would be hard to choose one. Stealing milk and Milo and lying about it when evidence was dusted on my lips; peeing on the bed and waking up to change so that mom wouldn’t find out(she always did); making faces behind Mother’s back, without knowing that she was watching me in the mirror; having disgusting belching competitions with my sisters; absentmindedly picking my nose while I was supposed to be posing in the family picture(I was caught on camera by the way); reading a book while I was supposed to be babysitting my little brother, while he crapped on himself,  smeared the stuff all over himself, and proceeded to eat it.😭 Ah, God forgive me. Lol.

My goodest friend, Marie, while we were at uni, told the story of one of her childhood escapades which I think should win a prize. If you never had a farting contest with your siblings, ah, you never start. So Marie and her sister, Kay, decided to have a farting competition and the winner would be whoever gave off the smelliest, most thunderous fart. They began, and, the air began to get ugly, with each person doing her darnedest to outdo the other. (The secret to the game is to eat something really gassy, like beans. I would know. 😉) You know the different categories of farts, from the “thunder”  to the “silent poison”; they all came to play that day. Everything has an end, though. But the end of the game is usually the sweetest and most competitive part. Kay could do no more, but Marie seemed to be on a roll. Kay then decided to try one last time. She meditated on it, and then she let off a mighty one that shocked even herself, and she promptly burst into tears. Ahn ahn, aunty, I troway cap for you. You don win. Beht what hapun na? Why you crying?


Turns out she had simultaneously crapped (poo-pooed/shat) on herself while trying to let out the “fart of the century”. Chei. 🙆 Kasala don burst, literally. Damage control, somebody? Ah, to be a child again. Nothing like a well spent childhood.

Marie, thanks for letting me use your story. And happy birthday. My days with you were my best days in university.

In other news, the 2016 national budget has finally been signed. We need to go for Thanksgiving, I think. #sarcasm. Anyway, have a productive week, and don’t hesitate to be your awesome self!

Kisses, hugs, and kulikuli, 

Sincerely, Chibugo.

90s chick; nerd, humanitarian; lover of life, family, fashion, food, art and literature; Christian by birth and choice. In short, I’m like jollof rice: you’re gonna love me. 😉

Monday Humor : What the…?!

Let me tell you a story.

You see, Kiisi, my little sister, is a very special child. If not for anything, she’s the only really dark kid among us. I envy her that. Besides that, she’s really  smart(too smart for her own good sometimes), and for someone so young, gets things done in record time. As you must know by now, this post is not to extol her great qualities 😎.  She’s soon going to be a teenager, but this event happened 4 years ago.

You know how kids like to play and play and play till they drop? If you’ve ever babysat your siblings or any kids at all, you’ll understand what I mean. They play till you get dizzy from chasing them around and decide to be more sensible and leave them well alone.

This was one of those days. Homework done, chores done, the little ones went out to play. And play, they did. They seemed to have an endless store of energy. When they returned into the house, they stank of sweat and sand and every other thing kids play with. The thing is, after play and bath time, the next thing they do is sleep. Anyone with younger siblings should be able to relate with this: cooking dinner while doing everything to make sure that their eyes remain open till it’s served. I would play songs from my phone, dance for them, read to them, play games with them, sometimes to no avail. The more I did these, the more it seemed like fuel was being poured into the fire of sleep. Television was not even an option. It put them to sleep right away.

Anyway, I wasn’t letting them go to sleep without dinner no matter what. No way would anyone be waking mother or me up at 3 am to cry “I’m hungry”. So we sat to eat, and I was satisfied to see that everyone was actually eating. I faced my food.


After a few minutes, I heard my sister Kato, snickering and pointing. Adinbilivit! Kiisi had been  putting her morsel of eba into the bowl of water reserved for washing hands, and eating it! She kept at it, rhythmically,and with her eyes closed,  until I smacked her lightly and she woke up from the loud laughter around her. I had to send the poor thing to bed before she hurt herself in the name of having dinner. Some things are better seen than retold, I tell you. 😂😂

Till my next post,  XOXO

Have a great week, and don’t forget to be awesome!


90s chick; nerd, humanitarian; lover of life, family, fashion, food, art and literature; Christian by birth and choice. In short, I’m like jollof rice: you’re gonna love me. 😉

Monday Humor : Designer ko, designer ni!

How una dey?  It’s been a while we had a good laugh in here. Lets get right to it.

I was at a gathering of some sort and since we were few in number, we mingled and talked to each other. As usual, to avoid too much talk, I was a watcher. I watched people evaluate themselves to determine who was in the same class as them, so as to know whom to talk to and whom to avoid. I don’t know how people just assume your financial status from how you look. I’ve had friends in my uni days who would scrape the last five thousand Naira they had just to look “among” in any party or get together. Kontinu.

So as the people assessed themselves, I assessed them from my corner. The girls were the most open about it. You walk across the room, and they would evaluate you from head to toe. I could almost see the calculations going on in their heads. The price and quality of your “human” hair, the kind of make up you have on, how you speak, the designer brand of your clothes or shoes or handbag… There’s that thing about public gatherings where there are many females that makes me very uncomfortable.

So I overheard two lovely ladies having a discussion while a third sat close by. It began on a note like “Oh I love your handbag! Where did you get it?”, in a fake accent that almost made me choke on my drink. It moved down to the dress one of them had on. The other one fawned over it so much that I had to look too. It looked shapeless to me😕, but then, what do I know about fashion? When the wearer of the dress finally left, the two of them got down to the real business of dissecting what she wore, bit by bit. They finally got to the dress. The other one said with spite: “I was just watching her tell the lie. My ears couldn’t believe it until she said it the third time. Mogbe! Why people too dey lie naa? I dey there for Yaba early morning market, the day wey she pick that dress for okirika! If not for the fact that she almost fought with another lady because of that dress, I wouldn’t have known her. But because of that fight, I recognize her, and I recognize that dress. Nonsensical nonsense!”


You know when you want to laugh so bad that you have to leave for fear of giving yourself away? 😂😂😂 I had to immediately change positions, using my movement to cover my laughter. Don’t blame me joor. Lagos girls will not kill somebody with forming.

I hope you had a good laugh at the expense of our dear Lagos girls. Biko how much is fuel in your area? Our country is becoming a place where only the rich can survive oh. I can’t think of one thing that hasn’t increased in price this period… Meanwhile don’t let your blood pressure get too high. Its not worth it. Cool off with these two posts here and here. They’re from the earlier days on this blog and if they don’t lighten your mood, I don’t know what will.

If you have any funny stories that aren’t too embarrassing to you, which you’d like to share, send them in an email to bugovidase@gmail.com. Have a productive week!

90s chick; nerd, humanitarian; lover of life, family, fashion, food, art and literature; Christian by birth and choice. In short, I’m like jollof rice: you’re gonna love me. 😉

Monday Humor : Delirium

I was 11. It was a Sunday evening and we had just returned from visiting with family. We had to make a beeline from the house of our hosts to the car as it was raining. On the way home, I began sneezing. “Come on Chibugo! Is it this small rain that is making you sneeze?” asked father, and we all laughed. Despite all the teasing from him and everyone else, by the time we got home, I was shaking violently like cassava leaves in a storm. Someone put my favourite red and green sweater over my head and I crawled into a warm corner and dropped off to a feverish sleep.


Now let me tell you something you don’t know. In our living room back then, everyone had their “television seat” (which was usually the closest you could get to the television without being spanked) and their “prayer seat”(which was actually the farthest you could get from the central table without being spanked. Everyone always tried to escape leading in choruses or having to explain the Bible passages. Lol). Usually, every morning, father’s alarm (which could wake the dead, literally) would ring at precisely 5:30 am and the older kids would jump out of bed, wake the smaller ones, take them to the bathroom to pee, and everyone would file into the living room for morning devotion, going straight to their respective “prayer seats”. Now I had slept for about an hour and Mother was not yet back with my medicine. Suddenly I heard the alarm ring and I jumped out of sleep, and headed straight to the living room for prayers. I sat in my prayer seat with my bible and sat staring bleakly, wondering through my pounding headache why father had the television on when we hadn’t yet prayed, and why everyone else was taking so long in reporting for devotion.

Father would look at me and look back at the tv, and look at me again and look away with concern all over his face. After a while, he lowered the volume of the tv and asked me “How are you feeling?” Even as I murmured something incoherent he came to feel my head. I was burning up! He immediately yelled for Mother and she came bearing my medicine. My annual attack of malaria had come when we least hesperredit😰😷

Obviously I recovered, but my “rep” suffered at home as I was the butt of jokes for a very long time. :'(😥😩Apparently, this was what had happened that day, as recounted by my siblings:


We had gotten home and nobody knew how serious my symptoms were, until Mother touched me and discovered I had a high fever and went in search of medicine. While she was away, a truck on the road sounded its shrill horn and I jumped out of bed and walked straight to the living room like a sleep walker, grabbing my bible on the way. It was about 6pm. Father observed the strange behavior and reached for me, only to discover that I was murmuring to myself and I was as hot as a stove. That was when he yelled for Mother and my malaria-induced delirium and fever were taken care of.

My people, that was how malaria made me sleepwalk and sleep talk. The things that malaria fever has made people say ehn, I just kent tell it all 😭😭😭. May malaria never make you confess your sins in public. Lol.

I’m just getting home from a very hectic day at work and this is what I could come up with. Remembering it made me smile. I hope that reading it made you smile too.

XOXO, Chibugo.

Oh, Thank God I didn’t forget. How many of you attended the “Internet Entrepreneur” conference last week at Eko hotels VI? It was awesome and I regret not putting it up on the blog so that those who would be interested in going could sign up. There were really great guests relevant to the Nigerian Internet and social media growth and popularity present like Jason Njoku of Iroko tv, Opeyemi Awoyemi of jobberman, Craze clown from Instagram, Akin Alabi himself(CEO/founder of Nairabet), Tiwa Savage and the CEO of naijaloaded (I’ll put his name in the main post). I’m glad I went and I will be putting up a blog post soon about it. It will be coming with a small surprise, and I really hope I live up to this promise as this blog is fast becoming a Monday Monday medicine.

Before I begin rambling again, have a great week ahead, fuel scarcity notwithstanding.

Sincerely, Chibugo

90s chick; nerd, humanitarian; lover of life, family, fashion, food, art and literature; Christian by birth and choice. In short, I’m like jollof rice: you’re gonna love me. 😉

Monday Humor: I Did A Bad Thing And I’m Not Remorseful!


You see this job of mine, it requires a lot of moving around. I am constantly prospecting and so I never stay in one place. Imagine someone like me, who is content to just sit indoors and read for days, becoming such a “crayfish” on the daily!

I don’t have a car. That means I spend half of my working hours jumping from bus to keke, bus to Okada (motorbike) or bus to bus. Sometimes I get fed up and just trek if I’m familiar with the environment. Don’t be surprised if you one day see me walking down your road like a soldier on the way to battle, with my earphones on(probably listening to hiphop or rap) and my steps very long. Hehe. I’m just saying.

So, like I was saying before I deviated, I am paid to waka waka on a daily basis. Its much more than that but let me not bore you with details. I have learnt how to deal with all kinds of people on the street. To be honest, the streets are strict, man. You need a sixth and seventh sense to outsmart the people you will meet there. A notorious breed are the drivers and conductors. These guys are the kings of the streets! Without them, the vast majority of carless Lagosians would be left helpless. They know this, and they are quick to remind anyone of it. Some days, one could be lucky not to come across anyone of them that would wear your nerves down to the last thread. But lets be real. If you go a day using Lagos public transport, and you are not shoved, insulted or at the very least, treated shoddily by them (especially the conductors! 😤) then you better offer sacrifices to amadioha when you get home. I kid, I kid.

That was how I entered this danfo  bus oh. Omo, it seems the conductor’s wife beat him up that morning because he was in such a sour mood. When I wanted to enter, he insulted me for being too slow. When I entered, he insulted the guy beside me for giving him a 500 naira note for a trip of 100 naira. When I was to get down, he insulted me and my ancestors for not remembering to yell out my bus stop because I was “pressing phone”. I alighted, feeling too tired to care. There was no traffic but my buttocks were tired of the hard wooden bus seats. Then I realized something. I was still holding my 100 naira note and the bus had sped off!


The conductor had insulted away his payment! I would have felt bad on a different day but that day, I was happy. Kai! You can’t imagine how happy I was. I immediately hailed the FanMilk guy on his bicycle and bought my SuperYogo tetrapak. (Yo, If you grew up in Lagos and you don’t know Superyogo, tell your parents to go and buy you a real childhood). I felt no remorse whatsoever. In fact, that was the best tasting yogurt I had had in a veeeeeery long time.

Nonsense and ingredients!

Happy Easter dear friends. As Jesus rose, that is how every good thing that had died in your life will start to rise now now now. Kiakia, ozigbo ozigbo! No be play o. Believe Jesus, and believe me. 😁. Ngwa, my nsala soup haff done. Eees time toh go. Till my next post, Have a stupendously  splendid week ahead! Kizzez!

Sincerely, Chibugo

My pipu, have you heard of the Woman and her Ink writing challenge by Access bank? I entered for it and I need you all to vote for me. Every time you share my article on social media, you earn me points. Epp my ministry by sharing my article on your social media platforms. Head over to the website and read it. There are a lot of articles on there. Its really amazing. Knock yourself out! You can read mine and vote here!  Tainkiu!

90s chick; nerd, humanitarian; lover of life, family, fashion, food, art and literature; Christian by birth and choice. In short, I’m like jollof rice: you’re gonna love me. 😉

Monday Humor : Who Did It?

I apologize for the recent dearth of posts on here. I’d been having problems with my ancient laptop, and just yesterday, it finally crashed. Typing on a tablet for long periods isn’t fun, but it will have to do for now. So, here goes.

Like I said in this post, years back, Mother was the CEO of a thriving restaurant in one of the commercial hubs of Lagos: Yaba. Those were the good old days yo! Coming home from school everyday, we usually had a wide array of food to choose from as we lived upstairs and the restaurant was downstairs out front. This was a great memory to dig up, but it isn’t the reason for today’s post.

So, on this particular evening, business over for the day, some of the staff were busy cleaning, some were washing up plates , pots and pans, while some prepared ingredients for the next day’s business. Mother had just finished counting the day’s proceeds and gave a satisfied sigh. It had been a very good day. The meat delivery guy, Kazeem (how the heck can I still even remember his name? Lol) came in, loaded with the next day’s supply of meats. Mother paid him, loaded the meat into the freezer, and went to close up the shop front, leaving the back open for staff . She came in to make some calls when she stopped short: the money she kept on the table had disappeared! She raised an alarm and summoned all her staff. They were the only ones with access to the back entrance. “Who Did It?”  Everyone denied vehemently. She quizzed up, and quizzed down, swore, begged and threatened; all to no avail. Everyone was searched, including their bags. No show. The shop environment was turned upside down, but apparently the money had grown wings and flown away in 5 minutes.

At the end of work everyday, the atmosphere around the Shop was usually a light one, full of playful banter being exchanged among the workers in loud voices amid raucous laughter. That day, everyone went home in a sombre mood. Madam(Mother) had almost cursed the thief, but just said resignedly, “Let God be the judge.”

We perceived immediately she came in that something was terribly wrong. We didn’t know what it was, but we could tell that she was spitting mad, and as wise Nigerian children, we gave her a wide berth. Nigerian Mothers’ slap nor sabi English.


Fast forward to the next morning. Activity in the kitchen usually begins long before the local muezzin’s call to prayer. Mother opened the freezer to sort the meats for the day’s cooking, and Lo and behold, a thick wad of notes was wedged between the freezer wall and a bag of meat, Nnamdi Azikiwe’s face staring back at her unblinking.

Hearing her recall the incident recently, she says “I thought I was dreaming until I actually held the frozen money in my hands!” Apparently she had dumped the money in the freezer while keeping the meat, and almost gave herself hypertension looking for it. Smh. How can you be the drummer and the dancer at the same time? Lol.

The workers came in that morning expecting to see a sour faced boss, but she was in such a jolly mood that they got suspicious. After the early morning rush, she called them and informed them that the money had been found. The rest of the day took on the look of a mini celebration.

So, Who Did It? Apparently the freezer did it. Or was it Mother? I leave you to judge.

I hope this at least put a smile on your face in these difficult times.

Kisses, hugs and kulikuli, 
Sincerely, Chibugo.

I never saw a piece of paper with so much worldly power as money. It’s ridiculous. –  Chibugo

Sincerely, Chibugo

90s chick; nerd, humanitarian; lover of life, family, fashion, food, art and literature; Christian by birth and choice. In short, I’m like jollof rice: you’re gonna love me. 😉