Dummies Guide to Handling BrokeTown

I remember leaving BrokeTown some months ago. My fellow townsmen told me I’d be back but I called them peasants and bounced away with my ‘shoulders carried up’. In retrospect, I wish I didn’t do that.

Cos now I’m baaaaaccckkk. Yup yup. Back to BrokeTown babyyy! Won’t lie, I low-key missed this place, lowest of keys.

The thing about being here is, it helps you discover your true personality. Like me for example, I used to think I was an ambivert, since I exhibited both introverted and extroverted personality traits; but BrokeTown helped me realize that’s not who I am. My personality is apparently directly proportional to my account balance.

Basically ๐Ÿ‘‡

Never have there been wiser words!

I’ve been back for a while, but it’s been a breeze in breeze out thing. But, I’m officially b a c k.

Moving on. Whilst sitting on the floor, after I got back home from a long day of  relatively reckless splurging, I started to think about my life. Things were going to change. I’d been an extrovert for quite a while so handling (the looming) introvertedness seemed like it was going to be hell.

Few minutes later and I’d come up with some tips. Out of the goodness of my heart, I’ve decided to share them, because there may be someone out there who’s joining us soon.

Mind you, this is a guide for ‘handling’ not ‘leaving’. We don’t want to lose you uno, sooo-

1. Become an Introvert

This is the most important thing to do, immediately you step into BrokeTown. Funny actually, cos you really don’t have a choice. When you’re an introvert, your fundicalโ„ข status doesn’t matter much. Just be able to afford at least 2 meals a day and you’re good.

2. Don’t go out

If you’re not taking out the trash, or going to church, or work, (which has to be walking distance since you dare not splurge on luxuries like fuel for a car or public transport {who are you to be entering motor cars, who are you?}) I don’t know what you’re doing outside. Going out costs money. And you don’t have that. So enjoy your house. Or room. Or wherever.

3. You can’t afford to have debit-alert friends

Some friends don’t have sense. Bulk of what they add to your life is debit-alerts. You need to temporarily unfriend such friends, as they’ll lead you to abject poverty. Friend that will be telling you things like ‘let’s go turn up’; that’s not a friend for Broketown beloved.

4. Relationship?

Lmaooo nahhh. If you’re a babe, you’re lucky., since it’s easier for you to get away with not spending much in a relationship (albeit temporarily). But if you happen to be a guy like me,  don’t do this to yourself ma g. I’m not saying relationships have to be expensive but sometimes, many times, you have to spoil your woman, scatter her life with enjoyment and white dresses or whatever. But then, you can’t do that while your BT citizenship is still valid. Sooo don’t even consider a relationship. Like wydddd? If you’re already in one, fight with your babe (I’ll make a guide on how to fight with a/your babe later). Keep fighting till you’re able to fix up and leave BrokeTown. If you have an understanding partner, good for you. And If you don’t? You have to break up sir. Especially If her birthday or some event is coming up. Sorry. Pray nothing to celebrate comes up over this period too. Like promotions or anything. I know, I know, love would have you thinking you can handle a relationship without funds but don’t be deceived , that’s just you losing focus. It’s what love does best. In no time[ Unrelated ๐ŸŒš], you could have the woman you love telling you you’re not perfect or that she prefers to be sad and all (sigh). Dunno man, BT is hell.

Extra tip – Helps to find a rich generous babe. It’s a lazy mans move but hey, life is too short. Also, stick to bare flings. Because why are you being a good, upright man when you’re broke ๐Ÿ˜ก (a joke)

5. Discover New Interests

Discover is actually a joke here. More like ‘force new interests’. On a regular day, I’m a game, meat, movie, enjoyment (and a lot more) buff. But when I got into BT, I couldn’t afford to religiously follow such. So what did I do? I picked up random inexpensive interests. Like reading books I had (e-copies obviously), strolling, pressing phone without viewing pictures or videos irresponsibly, listening to old music and many more. Just look for interests that don’t disturb your finances.

6. Have A1 Excuses to Dip

You need to possess quality excuses for when you have to be at a place or do something but can’t afford it. For example, let’s say, while you were rich, you and a friend had planned to go somewhere. But now you’re broke and can’t show up. You need mad excuses to be able to fire when the need arises. My go-to is ‘So sorry, I had an asthma attack and my chest hurts like crazy’. It’s quite foolproof, since no one ever cares to confirm. Another good one is ‘my aunt dropped by and left her kids with me so I can’t leave them unattended’.

Just be creative. Use your head. Come up with A1 excuses.

7. Do you really need a balanced diet?

This one applies to those who live alone. Do you really need good food sir? What is a balanced diet? When you’re rich, you easily by 3+ pieces of ‘ogunfe‘ to go with your amala, or 2 pieces of beef, 1 ponmo and assorted with your rice or beans. But now that you’re in BT, you can’t be misbehaving like that. After all, who has protein really helped? This is the time to understand that quantity > quality. Don’t listen to the unwoke that tell you quality is important. They have money, you don’t. So sir/ma, use that 200 to buy only rice. We have meat in our body. If the body craves meat, it can cut part of your intestines and use โœŒ

8. Standards? What are those?

Imagine being broke and still having standards ๐Ÿ˜‚ You’re broke and you’re on some ‘ewww I can’t take sachet water’ p? Or ‘nah, it’s either basmati rice or nothing’. Some go as far as ‘ugh, I can’t be trekking and buses are razz, I’ll take an Uber’. Looooooool. Imagine being carried for 9 months and coming out to exhibit such a silly behaviour. Only time you should be calling an Uber is when you’re using it for the first time and it’s 2000 off. If you’ve used it already, there’s Taxify. Use their 2000 off as well and flourish.  Can’t be paying for no trips sir. Can’t.

Standards belong to the elite, so behave. 

9. Work on your self-control

When your account balance is on extrovert levels, you tend to find jokes funny. Jokes about account balance or funds and stuff; LOL-ing and ‘๐Ÿ˜‚๐Ÿ˜‚๐Ÿ˜‚’ all the tweets about lack of funds. Once you enter BT, such jokes start to annoy you. You take them personal. My mute and block list is filled with people who tweet such annoying nonsense while I’m in BT.

10. Bonus

 Well this is more advice than tip. No matter what you do, try hard not to be entirely broke. Like 0 naira. Adopt a saving habit. Even while in BT, I always have savings I can’t touch somewhere in case of emergencies or opportunities. Learn to save.

#StayGuided guys. I hope this helps ๐Ÿ™

low-key not a proper BT citizen btw ๐ŸŒš


On Becoming – Part 2

I wasn’t really sure what to expect from this man; so far so good anyway. All my life, no one had treated me specially, and so this experience felt alien to me. I slept like a queen that night. No, he did not touch me.

Getting out of bed was going to be tough. I could tell; because I didn’t want to leave, I didn’t want all of this to end.

He didn’t rush me or disturb me; he allowed me to stay in bed as long as I wanted.

Night fell quite fast. You know what they say; time passes fast when you’re having fun.

A part of me felt queasy. Everything was going way too perfectly, almost suspicious, very suspicious actually. I disregarded the thoughts and felt it was just me not being used to this star treatment. I wish I listened to myself in retrospect.

The man came to me this particular night. Quite alright, he had been nothing but nice since he brought me home, but this felt different. He was being extra gentle, and kind.

He urged me to soak in his pool. Unbeknownst to him, I could not swim and I was scared of water. However, his kind words trumped my fears and I eventually succumbed. We had a nice chat in the pool.

We got out of the pool and went to chill in his hot tub right after. A part of me felt like a finesse chick but none of this was of my doing; I literally didn’t put myself out there anyway. While in the tub, he helped me apply all sorts of soaps and creams and herbs. At this point, I was so damn wet!

Slowly, I began to feel the temperature rise. The water felt like it was heating up. Being my first time, I assumed this was normal and continued to enjoy my time in the tub.

Have you heard the story of the boiled frog?

I think I slept off. I guess the heat got way too uncomfortable and so I woke startled. I looked up and saw the man staring at me; he had that his cute smile on. A part of me was creeped out though as this smile lasted longer than normal. I looked down to see if it was cleavage. That was when I saw it. My skin had become tan My skin was bright orange.

The steam was killing me, my skin was burning and the discoloration bothered me immensely, I smelled good however but I needed to get out. I tried to but I couldn’t. Slowly, I began to lose consciousness.

This was it. I was dying. In my final moments, I heard him speak, “Honey, food is ready”.

This is my story. My story on becoming Jollof Rice ๐Ÿ˜Š๐Ÿ˜Š


On Becoming – Part 1

My story is not an awesome one; neither is it uninteresting. It’s quite basic. In it’s simplicity, it possesses some depth still. This is my story.

Plain, simple, normal. That’s how anyone you asked would’ve describe me. I didn’t do much. I rarely went out. Spent most of my days indoors, all of my days actually.

Everything changed when I met him. I remember that day; as usual, with my many siblings, I was indoors. I would say home but this wasn’t always our home. We only recently moved here. We used to stay in the wild. Cool, cool life. We would stay out all day, dancing as the wind blew, playing in the rain, frowning when the sun , well, did what the sun does.

They had taken us, my siblings and I. Our parents tried to stop them but their frail arms could only do so much.

So here, new place.

I was only just getting used to life here when he came by and took me. I remember being happy. He was a handsome man. Appeared quite nice. Dark too.

He took me home that night.


You Too You’re Calling Men Scum?

Spent the last twenty minutes or so trying to remember my password. Shows how long I’ve been away. It would have been very convenient to lean back and enjoy the laziness and misbehavior that keeps me away from putting stuff out for your reading pleasure, but I was provoked out of semi-retirement.

Personally, Twitter is bants. It’s just jokes and play. This doesn’t apply to everyone as recent events have proven and I was not really understanding. Until…

So I’m scrolling, RT-ing and Lmaooo-ing at whatever was lmaooo-able. Recurring theme, ‘Men are Scum’. People are proper creative. I laugh at the jokes. Ordinary scum and some were catching feelings. So I’m laughing, enjoying the ‘men are scum’ tweets; then I come across this one tweet.

I was provoked. It was a simple tweet –

‘Men are scum’

@User673 wasn’t the first person to tweet that line, but she was the first person to tweet it and annoy me. Why? Because @User673 is mad.

A part of me feels I’ve told this story before but I don’t really care.

Back inย  Secondary school, I used to engage in the act of womanizing, albeit low level. I am not proud of it but I was in the world. Womanizing was a way of life. I couldn’t go a day without womanizing. Womanizing was my drug. I used to womanize in the morning, womanize in the afternoon, and womanize in the night. Even used to womanize in the dream. Sometimes, teacher would ask a question and to womanize would be what comes to my mind first.

This vice had me making some terrible decisions. I regret none of them, except one.

It was a good night. Night prep time. I was supposed to be studying but I was womanizing. It was high grade womanizing that night. In the process, a lot of noise was being made. This attracted the attention of the teacher on duty, Mr. Ozigagu. I do not remember much but I will never forget Mr. Ozigagu’s flogging expertise.

The girls I was womanizing with were the source of the noise. Mr. Ozigagu came into the classroom and demanded to know who was responsible for the noise-making. Beloved, if there’s one thing you should avoid in life, it is vagabondic friends. Goes without saying I had such.

In a bid to maybe, parrap impress the girls, one of my friends who was womanizing with me stood up and claimed to be the noisemaker. Another guy stood up and said the same. Iย  noticed what I imagined to be adoration in the eyes of the womam and so I stood up too.

Mr. Ozigagu commanded us to come forward. We did and one by one, he started to bless us with 6 strokes of the horse whip each. First guy stepped forward and took all without flinching. The girls giggled. Second guy collected and flinched at the 5th stroke but went through with his session. It was my turn.

I stepped forward, ready to receive.

First stroke, I swallowed spit. My ass was clenched tightly and I told myself I was a hard guy. Second stroke, I screamed and scratched. Third stroke, I started to cry and begged. In the end, I took all the strokes and embarrassed myself.

How does this relate with anything? Well, it so happens that @User673 was one of the girls I was womanizing that night. I received 6 strokes of the horse whip on her behalf and she has the effrontery to utter the statement that ‘men are scum’? You mean I was scumming while receiving quality strokes(PHRASING)?

Dear Miss @User673,



PS- I have never womanized

Remembering My Lover

You know how you like a song so much, you play it endlessly and think you will never get tired of it only to get to a point where it becomes unbearable to listen to and you always skip it when it’s ugly head pops up in your playlist? 

It’s a vicious cycle really. It seems I’ve found a song I haven’t gotten tired of. It’s almost a year now and I can still bear it; hell, I still love it. Its lyrics are perfect, sung with the perfect voice and to the perfect beat. Beautiful!

I crave this kind of love, this kind of consistency(odd use), this kind of bond.

Such is, well was, my previous relationship. It was one that started off beautifully. Every move was perfect. We clicked from the very first time we encountered one another. We looked good together, it didn’t look like we would ever get tired of being together.

But things happen; life happens. We always want things to go our way; and want the beautiful things we love to stay, forever. We forget there are many variables we cannot control and sometimes these variables, when altered by life, come with unfortunate consequences were forced to bear. 

Our relationship was a victim of one of such variables. Everything was going fine, we both were happy, it’s okay to say everything was perfect. Each person accepted the others scars, wounds and flaws; and so it was effortless to be ourselves whenever we were together. We were very different people, but as a couple, we complemented each other. 

Till this day, it hurts me. I remember the day we broke up. It was so unexpected. My heart still aches when I think about it. I had prepared my N500 and requested two meat pies only for the attendant to tell me that meat pie is now N270 naira. 

Goodbye Meat Pie. I will always love you.