So here’s the deal: I’m trying to ease back into blogging. No promises to be regular. I’m still lazy biko. So I shall give you what (I hope) are two anecdotes from my past as an overweight kid. Oh and there’s music at the bottom of this post. Download and enjoy and gimme feedback.

Gist 1: Pile of dung gone wrong.

SS1. When I saw my pictures from secondary school recently, I realized that I was actually quite slim back then. But the image of a waddling 60-kilogram kid never left the mind of all who knew me then. I was called ‘fat’ till I graduated. Heck, stuff ain’t changed now.

Anyway, SS1. Back then, in my school, we had something going called the “P-ro league”. It was an inter-class football tourney. Great stuff.
Sidebar: you know you suck at football when you don’t make your class team… especially when your class has very few boys. 13 to be precise. 13! If any of them picked up an injury, they’d just have to go back to defence instead. Can’t risk ‘Ogbus’ ruining things yo. Bastards… Yes, my nickname was ‘Ogbus’ back then. Deal with it. I’ve been christened with worse.

I was in SS1c. SS1A was playing JS2. You’d think this was a mis-match but the quota system of admission they enforced in my school those days ensured that some burly 18-year old Hausa boys (no disrespect) were making it into JS1. They’d be happy to take out all their frustrations in the hostel out on the pitch. Be dribbling their seniors like it increased grades. Punks.

I’ve digressed enough. As it turned out SS1A had some gifted ballers. None the least of them was a certain Longjohn. (His real name I should add. Ironic reality was that my nikkuh was like 3 feet tall – if you measure him wearing sandals!) Longjohn had been making it happen against them JSS2 boys. Dribbling, passing like a gee. Finally, he takes the ball from somewhere around the centre-circle and starts to ‘drimble’ his way on. He scores an absolutely magnificent goal. The chants of “GOOOOAALLL!” were extra loud that day. We all loved that dude.
So my guy starts off on this ‘aeroMplane’ celebration where you fly your arms around and run in a zig-zag fashion. He ends the celebration by sliding to the ground. Stomach first. In joy, quite a few people off the field began to jump on my nikkuh forming some kind of dung pile. At its peak, that pile must have been fifteen people high!

My mistake was in feeling this joy.

I ran towards them…

The first one to sight me was the yeye Longjohn fellow… I can still hear his voice even now as he chastised.

“Ogbus, where are you coming to???? Who do you want to kill???” He had this look on his face from beneath the pile like his life was actually in danger. Next thing I heard? Cries of “Ogbus is coming! Ogbus is coming!” I have never seen fifteen bodies on a human dung pile disperse so readily.
Damn. See boys taking off in different directions and laughing their butts off in the process. I’ve suffered.
It’s a wonder that I still have even the semblance of any self-esteem left after such things. Chai.

Gist 2. “…And all the kings men…”

I was in my fourth year at Unilag studying Law. I had a test that afternoon. Must have been “Law of Equity”. It was a Friday. I remember this because we always wore black and white to class except on Fridays and I left my house in my best blue jeans (‘jeems’ if you talk like my aunt) and a ‘nize’ dress shirt (if you talk like Iya Muyinat across the street). It was during a time when we could afford drycleaners. Shirt was starched so heavily, I began to feel like Iron Man. These days, I just soak with detergent, rinse, dry, fold and pray for the best. Hard times yo…

So I stepped out of my house and picked a bike to take me to the bus stop where the Unilag Campus Shuttle loads. And here’s where it got funky.

Now, at the end of my street, is a T-junction. How it works is that the person exiting my street has to go narrow, hugging the edge (and the gutter) while the person entering the street is supposed to go wide.

My bike-man was going narrow. Some doofus was trying to enter the street. This egg-head okada also chose to go narrow. Both bikes saw each other as they both cornered. And hurriedly stepped on their brakes. But alas, it was too late…

They collided.

It wasn’t the heaviest impact you ever saw. Because they were both braking, they only collided tire to tire. Once they collided, both bikes stopped moving. Time stood still. I was seated on my bike, calm as ever, thinking to myself “That could have been worse…” then I felt my weight tipping my bike…

“Nooooooooo. Not gbagada gutter!” I thought.

Yeah. Gbagada gutter. I tried to offer resistance by using my leg to stop my fall. Story. The nimble bike man escaped before I could my get legs out from under me. I was the only one who made it into the gutter.
Luckily, not all of me fell in. Just my right leg. Let me give you the picture.
The bike had fallen sideways on the road. My left leg was on the fallen ‘meh-sheen’ (still talking like my aunt) while my right was knee deep in gutter goo. Somehow, my left leg was stretched in such a way that I couldn’t get any traction going in order to use it to pull myself out.

Enter the kings men…

Passersby immediately gathered at the scene trying to haul Humpty-Dumpty out. Passersby that were laughing. Chai. My life! My career! My sexy, pressed jeans that I was wearing for only the first time: black from the knee down.

Omo mehn, come and see pulling! I swear like five people were trying to hold their laughter while pulling at the same time. I was heavy and stuck. Sheeeet. They finally got me out sha. Hurt only in pride. And so close to my house fa. I’d never hear the last of it.

Got home and told my folks. Dad’s brows furrowed in concerned. Mum’s ribs quaked in mirth. Evil woman. I sha got changed sha. Went back to school, wrote the test but I never forgot that day though. Dongitty dang!

Music? Okay so one day I got a call to go to CAMP. They had work for me. Prior to this, I’d remixed two of Bez’s songs. Because I’d done those on my own, I’d had to use tracks WITH instrumentals sitting on them. They sounded ok but not as neat as I’d have preferred. Now, they asked me to remix “the Good, the Bad, the Ugly” and they gave me raw vocals to work with. We went back and forth on the direction a few times but we finally got something all parties liked. If you haven’t gotten the song off my TL, here’s your chance:

The Good, the Bad, the Ugly (cikk0’s remix)


About cikk0

I think I'm proper sane. A lot of people seem to think different. Oh well... Locate a brother on twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/cikk0

Posted on November 13, 2012, in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. 16 Comments.

  1. Holy man, Fatmanslim i laffed my head out in the LIB, pple were wondering why. Whoa hope ur ego still does not at laffs from the great fall.

    “Nize piss” (in my Yoruba Haccent*).

  2. LoLz
    I giggled like a girl at a couple of the lines
    “Ogbus is coming! Ogbus is coming!”

  3. That second story had me laughing like a crazy person. I was and am still an extremely clumsy person. Have had many similar occurences.

  4. Thank you for this post, it actually brightened my mood!

  5. Omg!! I just laughed like a deranged hyena!!

  6. LMAOOO my tummy is hurting. Been a bit under the weather. You just changed that so thank you. 🙂

  7. Lmaooooooooooo
    “Ogbus is coming” killed me.

    D world isn’t kind to fat kids.
    Welcome back 🙂

  8. looooooool! Why will fat kids never learn? contact sports are not your friends!

    Thank God it’s my lunch hour, I couldn’t hold that belly laugh in!

  9. Hilarious. You just made my afternoon. Especially the line , ‘ogbus, where are you coming to?”

  10. LOL! Nize wan ogbus. 🙂

  11. I cnt seem to place Ida in SS1A…

  12. I’ve been giggling in this bus. Ogbus you no go kill me with laff. Ogbus is Coming wuz really Ludicrous and interesting. Wish I wuz there that day……….

  13. ‘Snr Ogbus is coming!’ Hahahaha!

  14. Epic stuff…1st story took me back into time. In your defense, you weren’t all that fat in skool, it’s just that we were too small compared to you.

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