How I Met Your Mother – Letter to my baby.

The story of two lovers… from the man’s perspective..

Oh I like your dimples… can I touch them?“… 

And with those words, a journey of a lifetime began. At the time though, it didn’t seem like it would be anything more than an online friendship (many of such abound on social media today). 

Then she slides in my DM – she disagrees with this version of events, however this is my story so I’ll tell it my way…. where was I? Oh yeah… she got in my DM and we exchange pins. We got around to saying a couple of  “Hellos” and “His“. As with most social media friendships though, we drift and the chats become very few and far between. All of this happened in 2012. All that while she was in diaspora. I think that contributed to the muted enthusiasm with which the “friendship” progressed… that and other things we won’t be discussing in this discourse (don’t ask me why).

Fast forward to 2014… we meet again on IG.  Turns out she is in town for NYSC. We decide to meet up and we did. We were both bloody shy… her more than me (I will never cop to this to her face). But we talked and it was a decent date even though I don’t recall the title of the movie we saw. Date was good enough to earn me an invite to visit her at home though – not bad at all.

Couple of weeks later I redeem my “visit voucher“… to be honest this time was a bit awkward. I mean, we both kinda knew we liked each other but I felt like she was a bit too innocent/daddy girly dunno what she thought of me. Safe to say that was the last visit or hangout for the next two years!

We maintained an off and on call/text friendship that never threatened to go beyond that even though as we will later find out, we had the hots for each other. 

Two years down the line, I finally gather the liver to make an attempt to say how I feel… “I have a boyfriend” she says… Yeah, it was a sucker punch. But really, what was I expecting. I couldn’t be the only one who saw and still sees the beauty and awesomeness she embodies. Anyways, I lick my wounds and move on (not really).

Couple of months down the line, as the good friend that I am, I just call to say hello and see how she is doing (I swear that was all I had in mind). She says she’s doing fine… “and how is the boyfriend…?” “Ohhh we broke up.. it didn’t work…

I offered my condolences and care at the relationship not working. But I promised I won’t make the error of slacking again. We hung out once, twice… 

we are still hanging out…


Roses are Red

Great writing.. Loaded story.. don’t miss the message..


love-red-rose-black-31000 all4myspaceAnother really long one.  I’m really sorry!  Maybe I’m working my way up to novel standards.

He promised you a rose.  And thus it started.  You didn’t ask for it, you would have been quite fine without it, but he walked past you on the staircase one day and held your stare.  That was nothing new, you were beautiful, men looked at you, it was normal.  Then he walked up behind you as you looked at your favorite painting in the lobby, the one of the single red rose, and he promised to bring you a red rose, one almost as beautiful as yourself.

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The Patient Dog.

114 “The patient dog eats the fattest bone”. Time and happenings appear to have made a big joke out of this age-old adage. These happenings have led to several modifications and slant to this saying. The new improved versions of the adage include “the patient dog eats the smallest bone” and even worse, “the patient dog gets no bone at all”. All of these modifications tend to suggest that speed is the way forward and that there is little or no need for patience. This would be true if the subject of discussion was a formula one grand Prix, or an Olympic 100 meter dash. Patience has always been referred to as a Virtue. The big question is, has time and happenings chipped away at our understanding and ideals so much that patience has lost virtue status? The next question is this. What exactly is patience? What is its definition? According to, Patience is a person’s ability to wait something out or endure something tedious, without getting riled up. The “without getting riled up’ part of this definition is what stands out. Usually, patience is not needed until a trying time comes around; and believe me when I say that life has a way of putting up these roadblocks on almost every mile marker of road that leads to fulfillment. Every time we come across these roadblocks, the first reaction is that of anger, getting “riled up”. These reactions are perfectly normal, after all we are human. But the best decisions in life are not made in a blur of fury or anger. Clarity of mind and purpose is an essential ingredient in making of even the simplest life decisions. It is pertinent to note that there are as many characters and traits, as there are humans on the earth’s surface. This is not the time and place to define these various characters or the reason why they are so, but the fact remains that each and every human, no matter the genetic or filial relationship is a unique entity. Pursuant from this, and with hind sight, the value of patience cannot be underestimated. The greatest achievements of all times be it political, scientific or academic, have all been feats laced with the virtue of patience. It’s one of life’s most valued virtues. This is so because; even the purest of things or the best of people have flaws. Some of these flaws are so irritating and annoying. So much so that your first reaction is to discard the object or person, regardless of their qualities. Patience is what gives you the clarity of mind to weigh up the pros and cons of discarding or sticking to this object under consideration. Now there are two outcomes to which ever course of action is taken. The first outcome is this. Let us say you decide to discard this flawed good object/individual (hereafter referred to as the package). The upside is that, you have successfully dealt with the irritation and annoyance that the package brings and you move on. The reality is you might go on and get another really good package and as soon as its flaws come to the fore, you ditch the new package and go ahead to get another one. If you are lucky, you might find a perfect package. But then is there such a thing as the perfect package? What has just happened is this “dog” has been feeding on a series of “lean bones” and as such is never really satisfied. The second outcome is this. You look at this good flawed object. You see the qualities and the flaws. You decide to be patient enough to work with the object in the bid to correct the flaws. This is a difficult process though, but then as they say nothing worthwhile comes easy. The only downside to this is the fact that there will be input of strength; mental and physical, commitment and time. The profit of this however is two-pronged. One, you will have been part of the creation of a near perfect object or a well-rounded individual who most likely will adore you for the period of its existence. A near perfect object, to your taste and desire. The other profit of this line of action is the fulfillment and satisfaction that comes from being a part of the creation of something great. There’s no fatter bone than this. The trickiest part of this entire adventure (yes, it is an adventure), is the identification of a willing package. They say you can take a horse to the river, but you cannot force it to drink water. True as the adage might be, the right amount of patience and the right set of actions can make the horse drink from that river. In the end though, it all boils down to our sense of value. Speed has its place in all aspects of life, but the road to great achievements demands endless patience, but it is potentially most beneficial. But then what does a young man like me know?

On a Monday Afternoon

This is lovely writing….Sad tale though.


man woman blackloveforum comThe fear of my friend Hetty won’t allow me break this post in two, so please bear with the length!

They say disasters happen in threes but I was on my fourth and counting that Monday afternoon.  What a day.  I had called a prospective client an agbaya for inviting me to his hotel room even though he was old enough to be my father, that of course had led to the bank losing his multi-million Naira account and that, as you well know, had led to the boss bringing down the roof and threatening to sack me.  I didn’t see his daughters doing corporate ashewo work o, but who was I to bring that up?  Then as I was waiting for a cab my mum called and ended the conversation with her now familiar “se okunrin kan kan o ti ko enu si e ni?” I…

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Hair Palaver.

Here’s a short one. For those who think hair palaver is strictly a female issue read this tale of a kid, his mum and inadvertently the barber.

“Oh….eeyaaaah… see this baby’s hair…so lovely, so curly, —————– …madam just a little more push and she’ll be out”… the midwives already concluded that the baby was a girl. The mother gave one last push and voila…a bouncing baby boy weighing all of 3.8kg. cue the surprise on all their faces and the gleam of admiration and love shining through the teary eyes of the mother. She’s brought forth a beauty; all babies are supposedly beautiful, but this one, this is her own baby, her first baby, and whatever anyone had to say was inconsequential- he is the best of all.

Naturally, the mother tended lovingly to this baby and of course HIS HAIR, the cause of the entire ruckus on his birthday, on the birth bed. She’d oil and comb it every morning, afternoon and night. There was something akin to the start of World War 3 when granny came around and muted the idea of scraping the baby’s hair. I don’t need to tell you who won that battle.

It was no surprise then that this boy grew to really love his hair, it became his “selling point”. He was to get the shock of his life soon though. He had gone to the salon for his weekly hair cut (the normal low cut), soon as he stepped in the door his mum looked up from her knitting and goes “se o ge irun yii rara ni sin (Did you cut this hair at all now?), I’m taking u back to that salon, you are scrapping off this hair today, you think I have money to waste cutting this hair every week?”

And this was the reaction in the boys head “WHAT!!!**&&*&^&%$$#$#$#^$”

“Mummy please, I don’t want to scrape my hair…Sob…Mummy please”, all his pleas fell on deaf ears. His mum’s mind was made up. Every time he cut his hair after that he cried. He cried because he had to get a skin cut A.K.A “gorimapa”. He cried every school day because he was going to be taunted. He couldn’t wait to grow up so he could decide the kind of haircut he wanted and when he’d cut it.

Fast-forward ten years later. He walked into the house, replying a BB message (he’d gone to cut his hair) and the mother goes “se o ge irun yii rara ni sin?” He looked up from his phone, looked at her, and walked on into the room…


My 10 Submissions

I can proudly say I inspired this.. and no I dont think I am that fine.. :p


A fine boy made me write this.  And the fact that I usually cannot come up with 5 things about myself is a testimony to how fine this boy is.  He is so fine that he asked me for 10 things about myself and I gave him 20! (See number 15, you’ll understand)

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25 Things about ME.

These may or may not be almost
everything about me, but you all will have to make do with these for now. For the few who will get the chance to meet me in person, you just might find that there’s more to me. Hopefully it makes for good reading. Welcome to my world (at least a part of it).

  1. My names are Adetoyese, Adesola, Adejuwon, Adewale, Olamilekan, Opeyemi, Idris, Ayinla. Of all these names, my parents gave me only two; the rest are from grandpa, grandma, aunts and uncles.
  2. Native of Erin-Osun, Osun state. (never been there though). The maternal part of me is Ijebu (Ijebu ode precisely. Been there a couple of times).
  3. I’m the first of two kids (used to be three). My younger sibling is female (beautiful human, she).
  4. Born in Jos, –
    capital city of the Plateau to a young couple in love Mr. and Mrs. Badmus. (I’d choose them to be my parents over and over again).
  5. My family matters a lot to me and I am viciously protective of them. Especially my kid sister.
  6. My Father is my rock. We share a lot in common, and we share a lot too … get my drift?
  7. My Mother … hmmm we don’t always have much to talk about, but there’s this really strong bond in spite of the silence (surely guys out there can relate)
  8. I am mostly quiet (to a fault most of the time). I have my cheeky moments though.
  9. I am of average height and build (most people call me slim). About looks, its been both a blessing and a curse. I mean I walk into an office and a stern looking female secretary breaks into a really broad smile, I jump the teller’s queue at the bank and all she does is smile, followed by a cheerful “how can I help you?”. But then it kinda drives the girls away too. I mean, they are scared of competition “I don’t want to date a guy and not have peace of mind”… that’s what they say (says a lot about their self esteem; that’s not why we are here though). I try not to be distracted by the compliments and otherwise ( e nor dey put food for belle na…. pfffffft). Errrrr… they say like poles repel, but then that theory has been proven false on a couple occasions. My butter knife comes in handy to sever any such attractions though. The only guy who had the boldness to walk up to me won’t try it again anyway. So ladies and gentlemen I leave the decision about my looks to you.
  10. I don’t like maintenance of status quo, but I’m also not the person who upsets the apple cart. You can call me a backstage fellow.
  11. Got my primary education from both the University of Jos and the Lagos State University staff schools (My dad had a thing for staff schools, and No, he wasn’t a lecturer…closest he came to that title was being a teacher. My mum is a teacher too.)
  12. Attended Command Day Secondary School Ojo, (this was the most boring part of my life, actually succeeded in having no friends). Being a teacher’s kid had its ups and downs but trust me, it is one hell of pressure cooker to be in.
  13. I’m a graduate of Microbiology (something I settled for when getting admission to study medicine was really daunting). I wasn’t your typical stellar student, but I tried (maybe not enough for some people, but then… I can’t come and go and die jare).
  14. I am a part time farmer and full time man manager. Handling the animals is pretty easy, but as for the humans…….another story for another day.
  15. Partying? Not my thing… Smoking? Never…. Alcohol? Only when I really have to (my last drink was some 4 months ago).
  16. My best meal; Pounded yam, Egusi (preferably made with bitter leaf), and bush (“sh” pronounced as “s”) meat…. cold water s’il vous plait.
  17. I’m handy around the house. When it comes to house chores, my mum never differentiated between the sexes. (I am the better for it now).
  18. I have decent culinary skills. I was introduced to the kitchen quite early. Made my first pot of Amala at 8 years of age (I had just finished primary school).
  19. Oh! Yes! I have to mention my pounding skills (no, don’t let your mind wander. I’m talking about pounding yam). It’s a skill that runs in the family, my dad passed it down to me.
  20. My dream family is my wife, two kids, and me.
  21. Soccer is the game, Manchester United is the team.
  22. I am rather self-conscious so I try to always do things excellently (I’m still striving at attaining excellence though…. Ko easy rara!).
  23. I never spoke Yoruba till I got into 100 level in the university (my dad never and still doesn’t speak Yoruba to me).
  24. Did I mention that I am single? Ah well, guess I just did.
  25. My best friend (I’ll give an arm for him) the brother I never had, Akinsola Oluwafemi.


    There you have it; 25 things about me. This would be incomplete without mentioning the instigator/inspiration behind this; Modupe Killa-Kafidipe a.k.a DKK. I am never going to be able to fully describe this Amazon. She’s awesome beyond words and yes, I love her to bits, so please don’t mess with her or you’ll have to answer to me. (don’t let my looks deceive you I’m much more scarier than I look!).