10 kinds of people you are bound to meet on social media

social media picAfter I was made by my computer teacher to open my first email address at 10, I had nothing else to do with the Internet media until my late teens when I decided to follow the trend called Facebook. Since then, it’s been from one social media app to the other. Whatsapp, BBM, Twitter, Instagram, come to think of it, I really think I should leave some of these sites. They’re the biggest time swallowers!

In my years of using social media, I’ve come across so many different kinds of users. And oh, as an aside, I found out one creepy fact: we all use social media to stalk each other. Whether it’s to stalk  people we know via Facebook, or people we don’t know via Instagram, social media just helps the stalking ministry. Lol. Warning! This is a long post!

I grouped us all into 10. Oya, Identify your group(s).

1. The BC senders : If you are a BC sender raise up your hand. *raises hand*. Okay, I’m not the kind of annoying BC sender who sends all those “If you love Jesus send this to 20 people on your contact list, but if you don’t, it means you love satan”, or “type Amen to claim your blessing” kinda BC sender. I actually detest getting such messages and I regard then as I would spam. Once or twice I’ve sent really funny or very meaningful BCs especially when they contained a message I didn’t know how else to convey. Also, since I started blogging actively., I’ve had reason to flood all my social media pages and contacts with links to my blog. How we for take do naah? There’s no other way to move the ministry. I’m sorry for annoying you with those links and I apologize in advance for those I will still send. 😀 Tainkiu for bearing with me.

2. The updaters, aka jobless pipu:  I really don’t know how they do it, but these people manage to flood my updates section with about 20 updates in an hour. I still wonder how someone will siddon and just be putting pictures , removing pictures, update one thing, change it to another thing, and repeat the process all over again without getting tired. Do you live on social media? O ma se ooh!  Kontinu. *side eye to all of them *

3. The thankers :  This group just makes me laugh. Someone sends you a friend request on Facebook and when you accept, you get a message on your wall that looks like this: “Thank you for your acceptment of my friendship my lovely sister. God bless you. Welcome to my world”. Really? All this greeting on top Facebook friend request? I could know all I wanted to know about you without even checking out your friend request. Wetin dey your world? Abeg shift joor. It’s not like I just accepted to marry you. Lol. Or you ‘like’ someone’s picture and you get a response:”Thanks for your likes my friends” *facepalm* Duhhh! You can thank the fellas by liking their own photos when they post ’em! Sheesh! Next!

4. The shortformers: The people in this group annoy me to no end. You start a conversation with “Xup” or  “Ow u dn” and expect someone to understand you? The one I got recently that made me vex  was “I”. When I saw it, I thought the person wanted to make a sentence but mistakenly sent “I”. So I waited for the rest of the conversation, but got nothing. I sent a couple of question marks to indicate I didn’t understand and he explained  that he was just saying hi.  *In sisiyemmie’s voice* Nonsense and ingredients!!! Lazy pipu! So you know where letter H is and you decide to torment someone’s eyes by typing horrible shortforms ? Take ya  time! The same goes for those who deliberately shorten things that they have no business shortening, example kkk meaning OK; (Last I heard, kkk meant Ku Klux Klan: go and find out what that stands for), Jixox, meaning Jesus ;m cmn hm, meaning I’m coming home, etc. Correct your self or stay away from me. Nuff said.

5. The swearers/x-rated peeps: I once had a friend on BBM who was the oga of F-word usage. He also had the nasty habit of putting up Pornographic images as his display picture. I can’t have such people on my contact list now can I? The day any of my younger siblings will want to do amebor by opening my social media pages through my phone, how will I explain that one? I can’t have someone draining the small anointing I still have. Get behind me Satan! *sprinkles holy water on laptop and phones*

6. The advertisers: Have you ever been on a celebrity’s Instagram page? She could put up a very wonderful post that generates a lot of likes and reposts from fans, and when you go to the comments section you see things that are totally unrelated like:” Get your waist trainers at very affordable rates and get that look you’ve been craving. All sizes available. Simply call 0804xxxxxxx. BB pin IS ABCDEFG. A trial will convince you. ” All I can do is El Oh El. 😀 Eees not dia fault. Na traffic dem dey find ni.

7.The perpetually busy ones/The ignorers : You will message these ones respectfully after work hours and not get any response. The painful part is that your message will deliver, they will be online, change dp and pm, but your message will remain unread. All of you that do this, Jesus is watching you all in 7D. I am a busy person myself, and I know I do my own share of ignoring, especially during work hours, but I would never be that mean. Shiorrrrr 

8. TMI  peeps: She  go shit, she update message to tell us. Her boyfriend buy her shawarma, she snap am upload, con describe how the date be. She buy shoe, she upload am. She buy new Brazilian hair, of course we hafto know. If she con travel go Dubai nko ?Oghene me!  We gon be updated from takeoff to touch down and for the entire duration of the trip. Trust that we will also see all the stuff she bought when shopping. People like this just need the public to know them as cool people. I think that’s plain dumb. After putting up all that info about your personal life in people’s faces, don’t start wailing about haters when they come at you, coz they will. And oh, TMI  means too much information.

9. The prayer warriors: I’m actually cool with this group, just that sometimes the prayers get a little too aggressive and scary that I just quietly tiptoe/moonwalk away.

10. The taggers: I really don’t know what to do about this group. You will just jejely be in one corner with your chewing stick, minding your business and the next thing you will receive a notification that you have been added to one kain group on Facebook, whatsapp, or so. Recently I was added to one group called “What a miserable world we live in”. Whaaaaaat! O.o The speed I used to remove myself from the group ehn, na die. Biko don’t add people to groups without their permission abeg. Especially when you guys are not so close as friends. Ema binu.

Speak the truth and shame the devil ooh. What group do you belong to? Do you think I left any group out? Don’t spoil the fun, Add it in the comments!

Till my next post, kizzez, hugs and kulikuli. 


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 -Aunty Sabi

Anyone who went to uni in Nigeria must have experienced the strikes at least once. ASUU strikes have become a normal thing in the Nigerian tertiary education system. While waiting for the compilation of my final year results prior to NYSC, the strike began again. This would be the third time I would be experiencing it while in University. These people want make person get grey hair all in the name of getting BSc. So of course, homegirl had to find something to do to keep busy. Father intervened, asking me to be his Personal Assistant at the bookstore.


I agreed since I already had experience working there every summer holiday since I was 12 anyway. Plus, I couldn’t decline a free ride to and from work now could I? During those few months, I made new friends, and of course I had a few mishaps, what I like to call hembarrazzing moments. One of them was the day I declined an over-enthusiastic toaster. He was this very loud person who had a very unforgiving Igbo accent (Igbo bu Igbo, mma mma nu!), and in typical omata fashion, everything had to revolve around him and what his money could do. Some omatas are cute sha, this one’s attitude wasn’t.

I had given him the cold shoulder, but of course, business had to go on nevertheless. After ordering his goods and getting them packed in cartons, I had the invoice written and proceeded to calculate the total. He was standing beside me and monitoring the calculation, and, being in show-off mode, you need to see how my fingers flew over the keys of the calculator!


Omo mehn! I was feeling fly! One only needs to see how I haughtily cocked my head to one side while performing the calculations. It was a really long invoice and I typed the last figures with a flourish, ready to input the total on the invoice…. But I looked at the screen and alas! It was blank! Wait, wait wait! Hollup! So this guy had quietly stood by my side, watching me humiliate myself by typing in all the figures in the long invoice even though he knew the darned thing wasn’t switched on?! Chai!!!! DiarisGodooooo!!!

Embarrassed doesn’t even describe how I felt at that moment. I looked up at him, and just as I had imagined, he was watching me with a devilish smirk on his face, and I knew I made the right choice in not accepting his offer of a date. So, because I rejected you, you decided to punish me ehn? Issorai. In my mind I was banging my head on the table and screaming in frustration even though externally, I didn’t even act like I was pained. To maintain the last shreds of my dignity, I jejely called the sales boy and handed the long invoice to him. If oga here thinks he just got me frustrated, let him wait until this boy takes thirty minutes to do a 10-minute computation, then he’ll know what he  just did to himself. yimu to him.

I did not find it funny at that time but being who I am, I couldn’t help but see the humor in it. What was I even feeling like sef? Lmao!

Have a productive and stress-free week my friends!!!

Learn to laugh in the face of stress… It makes it lose its destructive potency – Chibugo

P.S: If you have funny anecdotes like this which you wouldn’t mind sharing, kindly send it in an email to bugovidase@gmail.com

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. 😉

Drunk on Petrichor

The rains have come! Hopefully the heat is over.  I’m happy, but not very. Even though I was born in the middle of the rainy season, I don’t like rain. The roads will soon become a nightmare. If you live in Lagos, you should understand what I mean. But hot damn! I love the smell that comes after the first rain! Thankfully my job at the moment lets me wake up later that the majority of Lagos’ workforce, so immediately I saw that it was raining, I did my kumbaya dance(it looks like this)


and promptly dived back into bed. Hours later, the rains have stopped and I have to go out. I am supposed to take a bike to my bus stop before i board a vehicle, but I do not even know when I arrive there on foot. I’m drunk on petrichor. That’s what Oxford dictionary tells me it is called.

The pleasant smell that often accompanies the first rain after a period of dry weather has a significance for me, as do many other things which I choose to place significance upon. It is a sign of hope to me. As the plants have had to do without water for months now, but suddenly receive what they have been thirsting for, I know that the dreams and aspirations I thirst for are valid and will one day be watered.

Everything suddenly seems to take on a new vibrance of color, a brand new shade of green, like a preparation for something big just round the corner. And so I’m also preparing myself. I am afterall, part of nature. Go out there and breathe it in. Remind yourself that it is a sign of beautiful things to come.

Petrichor. It is like poetry.:-)

P. S: I really do not know what got into me, but whatever it was, it made me start typing this post on the go. Enjoy it, *I hope*

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: Crushed Crush!

Sharrat to Somtochukwu for contributing this story. I got kinda caught up with work and she was up for the challenge! Enjoy!


Somto is currently doing a Masters degree in UNN.#Chibugothefamzer. Now, she has this friend, a male friend, Ore* who has an incurable addiction to sugar. I do not know if that was the cause of the mishap I’m about writing about, but I will have to include this since something sugary was going on at the time of this mishap.

According to her, when they were preparing for the second semester examinations last year, as usual, everyone had a quiet place or hideout where they got comfortable to read. The higher degree hostel has a reading room shared by its inhabitants, and it is a perfect place to study. Her friend decided to get comfortable and jack* his brains out. Of course he was accompanied by a sugary friend, cake icing! I mean, who even does that? Lmao!

In the same hostel, there was this girl, Cecilia*. Ore has a humongous crush on Cecilia. At the time of this occurrence, he had firmly made up his mind to speak to her really soon. He balanced in his chair, reading, and licking cake icing.  Ewwww. Everywhere was so silent, you could hear a pin drop. Cecilia happened to be in the same reading room, and she must have been tired of reading or just wanted to take a break or something like that, because she stood up and was packing her things. The next second was a moment of great confusion as Ore unconsciously let out a FART! Of course everyone turned to stare at the source of such a blatant distraction! Cecilia included! Permit me to use the same words Ore used to describe this incident to her: “I don’t know the devil that was after me that day ooo, because all of a sudden, out of nowhere, what I heard was POW!!! I had “messed”!! It wasn’t loud; it was thunderous!!! Its hard to believe such a sound came from me. Next thing I knew, all eyes were on me, including Cecilia’s! There and then, I knew I had lost the chance to speak to her about how I felt. And I really like that girl. 🙁 . Now I don’t even greet her, I just do my best to avoid her, and whenever we bump into each other, I just “eyes right” cos I get really uncomfortable.” 

I don laff soteey water finish for my eye. 😀 As touching as this story is, I couldn’t help but see the humorous side of it. Abeg, make una help us advise our friend Ore on top this mata. Should he keep avoiding her or just brave it? Hehe. Feel free to leave a suggestion in the comments.

We canno coman kee ourselves with depression as Nigeria don loss her budget on top the situation wen we dey complain about. Like I always say, Nigerian politics is like an unending seasonal movie, keep watching out for the next season. From #Dasukigate to #missing2016budget, the story line keeps improving. Lol. I’ve made a resolution not to take the political atmosphere to heart too much. I’m too young to have hypertension.Don’t sue me. Please, laugh away the stress and have a fantabulous week ahead!

Flatulence is the international language. Speak it with your anus. Hear it through your ears. Listen through your nose.― Jarod Kintz

*Ore, *Cecilia : Not real names

*jack: Nigerian slang for study

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. 😉

#LifeinUNN Trending Everywhere!

It is a known fact that every institution has its peculiarities and those who go through them are either the better or the worse for it. For example, Unilag and Uniport students are usually categorized as social animals who know how to party and flex. Private universities like Covenant and Madonna are known to be very uptight, but the students are said to be the EXACT opposite as soon as they’re outside the institution’s walls. Eees nor me dat tell you oh. On another level is University of Nigeria Nsukka, my alma mater, otherwise known as University of Nsogbu Nsogbu. (Nsogbu means trouble/stress in Igbo). Now, schooling in UNN is a different ball game entirely, because it requires intelligence and loads of work for one to get in, and bucketloads of patience, grit and hardwork to make it out alive with a good result. It only serves to toughen us and prepare us for whatever the real world has in store. Trust me, I’m not saying this just because I graduated from there, its a fact that most people have come to accept.

As a matter of fact, the environment of the school alone shows that over there, they mean business. It is an academic environment through and through; its as though the authorities when establishing the school said,”if you want to catch fun, go find it elsewhere”. Little wonder we are conferred the title: great Lions and Lionesses. Its better experienced, I tell you. You are roasted in the fire and melted so that you come out stronger and more refined. Well, a UNN Graduate is ahead of you…naturally. Lol. So I was jejely and nwayorly strolling down the streets of Twitter and Facebook when I came across numerous tweets and posts with the hashtag #LifeinUNN. They were all so hilarious that I missed dinner because my belle don full with laff. You know how I love y’all, so I just had to share.If these screenshots dont make any UNN graduate nostalgic, then I don’t know what will! Now let me warn you, this is a picture heavy post!EnjoyScreenshot_2016-01-11-22-32-55Screenshot_2016-01-11-22-32-22.pngScreenshot_2016-01-11-22-34-17.pngScreenshot_2016-01-11-22-36-40.pngScreenshot_2016-01-11-22-40-11.pngScreenshot_2016-01-11-22-40-51 (1).pngScreenshot_2016-01-11-22-41-59.pngScreenshot_2016-01-11-22-41-59.pngScreenshot_2016-01-11-22-50-13.pngScreenshot_2016-01-11-22-50-13.pngScreenshot_2016-01-11-22-51-38.pngScreenshot_2016-01-11-22-55-51.pngScreenshot_2016-01-11-22-56-57.pngScreenshot_2016-01-11-22-59-06.pngScreenshot_2016-01-11-22-59-39.pngScreenshot_2016-01-12-06-51-39.pngScreenshot_2016-01-12-06-54-42.png

I hope you enjoyed reading them as much as I did. To those still in the “den” called UNN, enjoy your time there because it only lasts so long, and the rest of your life is spent remembering. Be sure to live now in a way to give you only good memories in the future. Students and alumni of other schools, can you relate?  If you have any new #LifeinUNN punchlines, make us happier than we already are by putting them in the comments!

Till my next post, kizzez, hugz and kulikuli.

Mahadum is the Igbo word for University; It literally means: learn it all. So, learn it all, for it doesn’t end in the pages of your books. – 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 : Pepper soup!

The witches from my village said there would be no Monday Humor post today, but Jesus said no. Here we are finally. It’s been a very hectic day at work for me, I apologize for the late post. Thank God for mobile devices, as I’m actually typing on the go. So whether you’re on the way home from work, class, or already relaxed at home, here’s one for you.

Kembu my big sister got married a couple years ago and during their honeymoon months, her and her husband made it a point of duty to try out all the restaurants in their new neighborhood. Turns out there was this pepper soup joint that they had been hearing about from friends for a long time. So they decided to hang out there one night.

Kembu made her order and her hubby decided to listen to the band first before making his order. After a few spoons of the soup, she complained. “these people want to kill somebody with pepper oh!  Haba”! Her eyes were already beginning to water and her nose was running freely. To which her hubby absently replied,” you just don’t know how to eat peppersoup. You’re not supposed to be taking a sweet drink with it. Stop complaining joor”. Kembu looked at him and didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Just negodu this guy saying she doesn’t know how to eat peppersoup! She who qualifies as a master peppersoup eater! Chai!

In full retaliation gear now, she asked him sweetly, “won’t you make your order dear?”, and he did. It only took one spoon to remove his entire attention from the band.  He was sputtering all over the place. “Blood of Jesus!”  He yelled, looking around and rubbing his head in shock as his mouth hung open. “Kembu, is this what you’ve been eating all this time? Are you human at all”? Seeing her expressionless face, he directed his anger elsewhere. His eyes were already tearing up and his nose was running. After just one spoon. Chai! Their peppery dinner was left untouched as they left the restaurant in a haste.

In the car, he continued his tirade at the management of the place. As they reversed and got into the main road, he realized how silent Kembu was. He looked over at her, and in the dark interior of the car, all he could see were her eyes sparkling with suppressed mirth. She maintained a straight face and replied drily: “You just don’t know how to eat pepper. Stop complaining joor”. He shook his head, remembering that he used the same sentence few minutes ago. It was his turn to be confused as to whether to laugh or cry.

Revenge is sweet 😀

As any wife or husband knows, it(marriage) requires a whole lot of love and an unflappable sense of humor. – Kristine Solomon.

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. 😉

When did our entertainment industry become so over-sexualized?

frowny faceI was watching television some time ago after taking a long break from it and it struck me that no one was safe anymore. No one is safe from being bombarded with sex from every corner. You watch the telly, its there, right in your face: girls try to outdo themselves in music videos, getting naked and wiggling all their body parts in your face. To what end? You know what really pains me? The men in these same videos are usually well dressed. Overdressed, even. The movie industry isn’t left out. While walking the streets one day, I came across some posters for Nigerian movies. Practically all the girls on it were semi-nude. Nobody told me to keep moving. I mentioned this to someone and he said: “Its simple, sex sells.”

Okay, so sex sells. So what? That means somebody cannot watch secular stations on television anymore? Honestly, those ratings of 16 or PG13 no longer make any sense because they may have as well put them on the usual 18 range. Even the lyrics of most of the reigning jams in town always contain questionable lines. My question is that, since these stars know that they are role models to many young people in the society, and they also claim to want a “morally upright” society, why do they not moderate their lines? To make more sales? The women that subject themselves to such silliness are the reason men will never take us seriously when we scream women empowerment.

I was listening to my baby sister, Kiisa, gleefully singing one of the recently released Nigerian songs and I was horrified when I heard the lyrics coming out of her nine-year old mouth. These people will not let these children preserve their innocence! She probably didn’t really understand the words she was singing, but one day too soon, she would find out. This is how young boys and girls start from hearing, to doing. Na from clap e dey take enter dance. Later we complain about the rate of rape cases in the society. Nigeria is a secular country, true. I just appeal to our entertainers to be a little more G-rated and less 18-rated. It is not everything that Oyibo people do that we must copy, I beg una. Parents too, should devise a means of monitoring what their children watch on television. I’m not saying shield them from everything concerning sex, but really, many of these entertainers are up to no good. Kids’ constant exposition to over-sexualized entertainment will make them take a lot of things as normal, which aren’t normal at all. This isn’t just for kids. Even as adults, our moral standards erode when we are constantly in the midst of what is the exact opposite of what we stand for.

Father always says, “When a goat that doesn’t know how to sneak into the barn to eat yam tubers moves in the company of one that does, he soon learns to do so”. Kiisa and her older sister Kiisi will have to stick to Nickelodeon, Disney junior, and an occasional trip to Africa Magic Family. Every other thing will be monitored, as far as I’m concerned.


An elder will not be at home while a she-goat gives birth still in her tether. – Igbo Proverb

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 – Mothers!

Happy new year people! Work don start oooo, no more end of year break, banger, fireworks, free food ati gbogbo ounje ati ere. I hope I got that right. Don’t fret, it will be alright. I have prayed for all of you, this year, your levels will change for the better, soteey it will be like a dream sef. Can I hear an Amen? Here’s a lovely dose of Monday humor to get your engine running.


I’m going to take you on a trip in a time machine, eight years back into time. Once upon a time, yours truly used to wear a blue and white uniform and shuttle to and from school everyday. Like most kids of my time, we had house chores to complete every morning before going to school. I like to believe that the housework was on another level in my home, as I have five younger siblings whom I shared the work of catering to them every morning together with Kembu, my older sister. They were much younger at this time, so morning chores included cleaning our room, bathing the little ones,  preparing breakfast, dressing them for school, and finally taking them to school before going in your own direction. Ahhh! One of the joys of a large family (said no one ever).

It happened this morning that many things went wrong: you know, one of those days when you can’t seem to get anything right, right? It was past 7 am already and we were still not done with chores. Every one was running helter skelter in the chaos we have all come to associate with dressing up for school, amid shouts of “Where is the second leg of my stockings?”, or “I can’t find my homework!”, you get the picture. I was frantic, nothing was finished yet. I had swept the room and packed the dirt into the dustpan and kept it in one corner of the room, hoping to take it out later. Mother came in to inspect and saw the chaos. While helping out here and there, getting things done very swiftly, she zoomed in on the dustpan parked by the corner and paused: “Chibugo, let me not see that dirt there in the next five minutes or you will see what I will do”. This is usually a warning that if you don’t do what you are told, OYO is your case. I ran to get the dirt out, and remembered that I hadn’t combed Kano’s hair, so I dashed back and after combing his hair, forgot what it was I wanted to do.

Eventually, we were all set. We would be late, but then, nothing could be done about that. Off we went on our merry way to school. On the bus, I remembered what it was I forgot. The dustpan and its contents lay forgotten in the room. I cringed at the inevitable ear-pull I would receive for this silliness when I got home after school. Why was I so forgetful sef? Anyway, that was that. I still had almost eight hours before then. I got to school and made it into class with minimal wahala. There was a tough math assignment I had managed to solve the day before, and immediately I got into class, those who hadn’t done theirs swarmed around me, asking for mine. We would be having maths in the first period, so no time. After initial gra-gra, I agreed to give it to them and opened my bag with a flourish. By now you may be able to guess the sight that greeted me: The dirt from our room, well distributed all over the contents of my school bag! *sobs* Yeah, mother was(still is) a tough soldier like that. You don’t mess with your responsibilities around here! That I didn’t cry that day from embarrassment remains a miracle to me. E pain me well well, make I no lie. After all my shakara. Chai! Issorai. Mother and I still share this joke and laugh ourselves to stupor over it each time. The story never gets old.


I hope the story above made you laugh off life’s stress. A reader suggested I request other readers to contribute stories to the Monday Humor column, to enable some variety. I quite agree. So if you have funny personal stories you would like to share, do send it in an email to bugovidase@gmail.com.

Have a great week, amigos!

Like the bee, we should make our industry our amusement – Oliver Goldsmith

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. 😉