You Can Talk About Anything: 14 Signs You’re In The Right Relationship

Relationships are tricky under any circumstances. But when you find the right one, you just know. They’re your best friend and your other half. You can talk about anything and just sit around doing nothing together. Pure bliss. Here’s the 14 signs you’re in the right relationship.

1) You can make each other laugh.

Full on. Tears streaming down your face, gasping for breath, ugly crying, laughter. You could have laughing fits for over 10 minutes together about absolutely nothing.

2) You can slag each other without offending them.

Just like you would with your best friend, you can slag them so much it would be offensive to anyone else.

3) There’s never an awkward silence.

You could sit together and say nothing for days. Doesn’t bother you at all.

4) You still tease and flirt with each other.

You flirt with each other like you’ve only met. The spark lives on!

5) You can fart in front of him.

That’s true love, right there.

6) You will always try and cheer each other up.

When one of you isn’t feeling that great you’ll drop all your plans and hang out with them just to make sure they’re okay. So sweet.

7) He brings you chocolate when you’re PMSing.

He’s not disgusted by the word “period” (or maybe he is but he doesn’t show it). He rolls with your mood swings and soothes you with sweets and back rubs.

8) “Netflix and chill” actually means Netflix and chill.

There’s no code names here. When you say “Netflix and chill” you mean get out the matching onesies and watch 3 seasons of Breaking Bad.

9) You each have your own friends and shared friends.

He has his friends, she has her friends and you both have a group of mutual friends. You both understand that you have to spend time with your own friends every once in a while. You’ve got each others back.

10) You have differences that aren’t that big of a deal.

Your opinions differ on countless things but you listen to each other and try to grasp their point of view. (Even if it’s definitely, absolutely 100% wrong.)

11) Your sexy time is great.

It always has been and it always will be. End of.

12) You never fight over stupid things.

Yeah you fight, everyone does. But it’s never about him liking some bitches Instagram. Get over yourself.

13) You make a good team.

You have this un-established rhythm that just naturally materialised.

14) You can talk about ANYTHING.

No topic is too taboo. Poo, fetishes, porn. Bring it on

EKO HOSPITAL, A BUILDING OF DEATHS? (Very Sad Experience)

Sent in by blog reader

“This piece is a hard one for me to write, hard and very difficult. As I write this, I am filled with deep sorrow for what could have been that was not. This piece is not intended to do anything but to warn unsuspecting members of the public. A warning that is necessary at this time because “evil deeds thrive when good men do nothing”

My discourse is centered on the level of mismanagement, inefficiency and a total lack of respect for life exhibited by management and staff of EKO Hospital on Mobolaji Bank Anthony Way, Ikeja.

My friend’s wife, Dolapo, a young mother of 2 boys, with a promising banking career with Wema bank, pregnant with the 3rd child had complained of leg pains to her husband on Tuesday, March 31, 2015. Her husband took her to the EKO Hospital for treatment (their registered HMO provider), they were told that the leg pains were normal for pregnant women at her stage and were subsequently given some paracetamol tablets to use.

Getting home, the pains did not subside, in fact, it grew worse. It got to a point that she could not walk with the legs on her own. The husband had no choice but to return to the hospital on Friday April 3, 2015 at around 3pm when it was obvious things were not getting better.  At that point, The doctor on duty advised them to wait for the consultant and Dolapo was made to sit out the ‘’wait’’ in a wheelchair as her legs could no longer support and carry her, in any case the consultant did not show up until Saturday afternoon being 04/04/2015. She repeatedly beckoned on the staff on duty to perform a CS and safely get the baby out as she could sense and feel that something was ominously wrong.  The pregnancy was well into 8 months. Some scan were recommended and the person to conduct the scan had reportedly closed for the day and  only surfaced at about 9pm on Friday and the wait dragged well into the night.

Dolapo was in pains on the wheel chair, she was being moved from her ward to the scanning room when the head of the baby came out on the wheel chair, her husband screamed and rushed her quickly into the elevator, yes, ELEVATOR!!. The baby could not stand the trauma, he came out in transit, right there in the elevator. A nurse had to hold the baby’s head, supporting it while the elevator goes to labour theatre, the baby was pulled out before they could make it to the theatre. This was at 9.30pm on Friday. The baby became the centre of attention for the hospital staff of Duty while neglecting  Dolapo all alone for more than 1 hr 30 mins while they attended to the baby to revive him.

She was left unattended to, in pains, right there in the theatre. She was eventually moved back to her ward. The consultant eventually turned up around 4pm on Saturday. The husband engaged him and he requested that some tests be done to ascertain what level of treatment or care to give. He was told she (the wife) would be fine and the test results would be ready by Tuesday because of the holidays.

On Sunday, April 5, 2015,  at about 8am in the morning, I visited her in the hospital and sat beside her on the bed offering words of encouragements. She was still in pains, and she was hardly audible, she could only answer in nods and made attempts at a faint smile to reassure myself and her husband that she would be fine.

It came as a rude shock when I called the husband at about 12 pm and he was crying profusely, saying Dolapo is lying down lifeless and that I should please pray. I was to say the least devastated, I was asking loads and loads of questions and he kept saying please pray, pray.

I got to the hospital to meet the lifeless body on the bed, she was dead! What happened? How did this happen? Nobody could offer any explanation. There was no doctor around, I asked the nurse on duty and she just said she is dead. I recalled she was eating when I left earlier, how could she have  gone from eating to being dead in less than 3 hrs?

The husband told me she was given an injection to suppress the pains on her leg and immediately started gasping for breath, oxygen tanks were brought in to revive her but it was too late. She was gone before anything could be done.

The body was left in the room for more than 24 hours, several prayer sessions were held to bring her back to life. In the more than 24 hrs period after her death, no doctor from EKO Hospital came out to say this was what happened. No personnel came around to ask people to leave the room, the body was not covered nor washed. It was simply business as usual for them.

It was normal for someone to give birth and die? The Medical Director of the hospital did not deem it fit to offer explanation or even try to prevail on the family to leave the body so that necessary medical procedures could be done.

I will leave my readers to ask questions from this write up, perhaps, I am being too expectant, maybe too optimistic about my expectations from a Hospital as reputable as EKO Hospital!

The family has accepted their fate and decided to move on…. But should we move on? Should we just accept this as normal? I was talking to a friend in my office yesterday and was shocked when he informed me that his wife also died in this same EKO Hospital some 6 years back and the same treatment was meted out on him!

Please pass this story around, let people know what is going on, don’t stop until it gets to the right quarters where something could be done to save others and get doctors and hospitals to be more responsive to their duties of saving lives and not taking lives. Dolapo is gone but who knows who will be next?????”

The Mechanic (+18)

I cannot believe this, what do I do? Jesus! How do I resolve this?!  Right now?! Really!!!!

Eno found it difficult to think in her high state, She sat in the car confused, tried to start the car again, no luck. Eno got out of the car terrified, it was 11:45PM, she paced back and forth as cars sped off past her. She pulled a lever inside the car to open up the bonnet and see if she can fiddle with something under the hood that can help her start the car.

As she stood on the bridge in her tight short black leather dress, she noticed how it seemed like the bridge was moving beneath her, sort of a slow bounce, this isn’t the alcohol, she told herself.

People had always told her they had that kind of experience on third mainland bridge but she never experienced it before, she went back into the car and locked herself in. If only she wasn’t so wasted, she would know what to do right now. What to do! What to do!! She spoke to herself softly.

Call Marouf!! A bright bulb light up in her head.

Seems like the only thing to do right now, he is her trusted mechanic, some athletic middle-aged short Ijebu boy. It’s too late to call but there isn’t any other option, she said to herself. She picked up her phone and dialled Marouf, he picked up at the fourth ring after the third try to call his phone, horrible network on the bridge.

‘Aunty Eno’, Marouf said. The background music was almost deafening, seemed like Marouf was at a party.

‘Marouf, the car don spoil for third mainland bridge o’ She said without any atom of ‘poshness’ in her which she really did

‘Ohooooo Aunty! I dey party for Obalende, I dey enjoy myself’ He said

‘Come jo! You know say I be woman, before all these area boys go come’ Eno tried to threaten him

‘Wetin I go tell awon aye wey we dey together, Aunty ? ’ Marouf asked with an hysterical laugh

‘Come jo! I dey that side after that Yaba turn! Do quick jo’ Eno said

‘If dem rob or rape me, na you I go use Police catch o’ Eno continued.

‘I don dey come, Aunty Eno’

She cut the phone, anticipating the arrival of Marouf that seemed to take forever. She looked around, making sure that all her doors are locked tight and none of the windows are down.

Her mind drifted back to the dance with Bode, her friend’s colleague, that boy can grind someone into orgasm was her thought when she saw the light of a danfo bus parking behind her from the inner mirror, Some guy in a tight-fitting outfit came out and the bus disappeared.

The guy came close to her window and knocked, she looked up scared only to find out that it was Marouf standing there. She seemed very happy to see him, she came out and almost hugged him.

‘You be yeye” Eno said to Marouf  jokingly ‘You come tey like that, for say armed robbers don come rob me nko’ She continued.

‘Aunty nothing go happen jo, Police dey for there na’ Marouf replied pointing down the bridge.

Marouf seem fitter today, although artisan are almost as ripped as sports people, she thought, it must be his body hug shirt.

‘Aunty, open the bonnet’ Marouf said moving towards the front of the car.

‘I don open am since’ Eno replied

Marouf opened the bonnet and fiddled around the battery head, asked her to try to start it again, she did and the engine roared back to live.

She screamed out of excitement and ran towards Marouf, giving him a full body hug and in return Marouf grabbed a decent chunk of her ass, she ignored like she dint know what he did.

‘Wetin happen na, wetin do the car, wetin you touch?’ Eno had 1001 questions for Marouf except for the ass grab which she felt ticklish and kind of liked.

‘Na the battery head dey shake, e be like when you dey enter gallop na him e comot’ Marouf tried to explain.

She moved beside him to see where he was pointing, as she looked downward, the full light of the car shone bright against Marouf’s inner thighs, and it kinda seemed like he had a big cucumber in his pocket.

She screamed Jesus at the sight but Marouf thought she was talking about the battery head not been tight enough. He promised to help her to do it well next day,

‘You go follow me reach Magodo abi’ Eno asked Marouf.

‘I go drop for road, make I go meet my wife for Mowe’ Marouf replied

‘Morning don reach, na after 1 we dey now, sleep for my parlour,tomorrow morning you go comot’ Enoh offered.

‘Aunty! No! I need to see Iya Bose this night o, wetin dey my body no good o’ Marouf joked

‘You go hold am reach tomorrow na’ Enoh replied.

‘Come drive, make we dey go my house abeg, I no dey talk, I wan sleep’ Enoh said

Marouf zoomed off, as they sped the rest of the way to Magodo, Eno’s house.

Eno opened the door, went straight into her bedroom leaving Marouf in the living room. She took a while, to take off the dress, yank off her everything, go in for a small bath, the hot water couldn’t wash away the grind from her body, the body still wanted to feel more, riding a hard dick wouldn’t be a bad idea. Something hard and long that can make her cum as many times as possible, that would crown the night decently.

She came out of the bathroom, put on a jalabia with absolutely nothing underneath, her nipples rubbing softly against the material of the gown, her pussy feeling slightly wet, she couldn’t shake off the horniness.

As she entered the living room to give Marouf a pillow and soft material to cover himself with, she found him boxer alone, snoring away on her couch, with the boxer not able to adequately house his dick, the tip of the dick peeping out of the short, looking closely the dick seem to be semi-erect.

She sat opposite him, pulled up the flowing garment up to her belly, spread her leg wide, rubbing her pussy softly, as she looked at the dick, imagining riding it, masturbating at the sight of Marouf’s large dick. She separated the pussy with 2 fingers, put saliva on her fingers and rubbed it over clitoris, gently, the feeling was it, she took a long breathe as the sweet feeling invaded her brain, she went a bit further, head backwards, 2 fingers into her own pussy, probing deep but not deep enough to satisfy her urge, no need for a dildo since a live one was here.

Marouf was still asleep, snoring like no man’s business, his dick seem to get bigger and bigger, he was probably having a wet dream. She mustered enough courage, knelt infront of him, caressed the dick softly brushing her hand against the tip of the dick, like someone pampering a dog, marvelling at the share size of his manhood.

She held it around the centre, tried to make it stand straight, the boxer kept interrupting the movement, she laid it back and dragged the top of the short down to free the dick. She had a feeling Marouf was awake now but he was enjoying it way too much, so she continued.

The pussy rub got her thoroughly wet, she squatted infront of his thigh, holding the dick at its base, as she lowered her pussy into the dick, looked like the penetration took forever, as the dick found its way into the inner trenches of her pussy, she continued to take deep breathes until she felt the dick hit that spot, then she let go.

The thrust started slowly, as pussy was trying to get used to this monstrosity in Marouf’s inner thighs. Marouf stretched his leg further, as she continued to pick up pace, slowly moans began to escape from Eno’s mouth. Marouf opened his eyes, to see Enoh riding his dick not so conveniently while her eyes were almost shut, he adjusted a bit as he bent forward a bit have a feel for those boobs that always stared back at him in her famous open chested tops.

He adjusted and she stood up, and slept on the soft rug, held out his hands, she straddled him in the middle, with more space to play with, as she settled in comfortably on the dick, he pushed up the garment, Eno took it off completely. Finally staring at him is the evenly toned big boobs with cute nipples. He covered his hand with her boobs as she shifted back and forth on the dick, the feeling for her was to die for at the present minute.

The brushing of her knees against the rug will definitely cause a burn on her knee but that’s a discussion for another day, Marouf’s dick was making more sense this instant. Feeling like he wasn’t getting any of the action, held her waist up with his big strong hands, hitting it from underneath her.

She was very impressed with the athleticism he was displaying, his waist continued pumping up into her pussy, the big dick is awesome once you get used to it, she told herself.

He made her get up, kneel down with her ass facing him, her chest on the soft cushion of her couch. He began to pummel into her from behind, it was like a machine, the sweat started pouring in, the excitement, doubled, tripled, the dick was hitting more than the right spot, she kept cumming.

She began wailing, laughing and screaming, all three in no particular order, tears streaming down her face. The dick was fucking on point,

‘Baby! Don’t stop’

She can’t remember when the mechanic Marouf became baby but it was definitely the good dick in effect.

‘Fuck that pussy like you own it’

Eno was on another level, the dick was making her speak in different kinds of tongue, Marouf was a lot stronger, he kept pummelling her with strength, zeal and vigour, consistent hard strokes, pinning her down by the hips.

Marouf was punishing her for all those times she gave him hard-ons when she came to service her car. His grunt as he was about to cum was something from Animal Planet station, he pushed it in the longest it could go, dumped a load of semen into her, she screamed as he screamed because that last thrust seemed like she got a small tear from that.

He collapsed onto the rug, completely drenched with her body fluid all over his dick, she clinged unto him, plugged his dick into her pussy, sleeping off in the process. Tomorrow, she will worry about why she fucked her mechanic, when the mechanic became baby and most importantly, if she will be having a child for her mechanic.

My life as a Doctor ...... the way I see it

I met a young doctor who used to work under me recently. I had just completed my night rounds in the hospital and I was leaving for home.

And then I saw him. He was unkempt, exhausted and appeared famished. Worst of all, he looked like a man who has totally given up on being a doctor. He appeared hesitant when I asked him what was wrong, but I could not just leave him there.

After much persuasion and insistence on my part he agreed to join me for a late supper. While he ravaged through his first proper meal of the day, he finally opened up. He has started working for the past week in a new speciality. Though the hours are longer, it was not an issue. He was well aware of the sacrifices he was expected to make.

However, the degradation, humiliation and constant harassment have finally taken their toll. He was literally chased out of the ward just minutes before he met me because he could not remember the details of a patient he clerked. He was not allowed to refer to his notes and had to recite the lab results by heart like a trained poodle. The words were abusive, hurtful and condescending. And worst of all, it was said right in front of the patient.

He finished his meal and stood up to leave. And as he left he said this “Please don’t worry about me. I will be fine”. I was not convinced. The shame of being publicly humiliated is not a stain that washes easily.

The doctor-patient relationship often takes centre stage, but the epitome of good clinical practice depends on how the doctors treat each other. The medical profession is filled with fragile and vulnerable egos that often have trouble working with each other in a genuine collaboration of trust and mutual respect.

We complain, argue, fight and obsess for the sake of our patients, but do we dare reflect for even an iota of moment our actions and attitude towards our fellow caregivers?

So what went wrong in the noblest of professions and how do we fix it?

Stop the stereotyping of doctors 

“The surgeon knows nothing and does everything. The physician knows everything and does nothing. The psychiatrist knows nothing and does nothing. The pathologist knows everything, but always a week too late”.

“Surgeons are egomaniacs, anaesthesiologists are lazy, orthopaedic surgeons are meatheads, obstetricians are mean and brain surgeons think they are God”

There isn’t a single medical speciality that has not been ripped apart and ridiculed.

As I continue to mature and evolve in clinical practice I have encountered a variety of doctors. And most of them share a common trait.  They live under a grand delusion that their speciality is the only one that matters and worth doing. They have strong negative feelings about doctors who have chosen a different career path and have a deep seated urge to insult them at every opportunity they get.

This has to stop. Every facet of medicine is equally important.

As a cardiologist to be I depend on the primary care physicians to detect and refer their patients to me early for cardiac interventions. It would be near impossible for me to screen all the patients with coronary artery disease in the population. I lean heavily on the cardiac surgeons for cases not amenable to minimally invasive interventions. The endocrinologists help us manage the difficult diabetics who need expert fine tuning of their insulin regimes. The emergency physicians are crucial front liners in diagnosing acute cases and stabilizing them prior to sending them to the cardiac care unit. The intensive care specialists help us manage the ventilated patients and are crucial to the running of our cardiology services.

Every single doctor provides an important aspect of patient care which complements the work of the other. We work like a grand complex machine where every part is imperative to the running of sound and safe clinical practice.  We are all equally important. And that is the often forgotten ‘stereotype’.

You don’t need to criticize or challenge other doctors to earn respect 

I read an article recently where a rival oncologist told the parents of a young patient with incurable cancer that he could have saved her life had she been brought to him earlier. He completely disregarded the considered opinion made by the oncologist who actually managed the patient from the beginning. His actions were borne without actually consulting the managing oncologist and in that one frivolous statement completely shattered  the foundation of trust the parents had on the treating team. This unnecessary disagreement between doctors often compromises the best interest of the patient.

Rival doctors often spread malicious lies about their colleagues. I have a friend who works in an established private centre and a rival cardiologist once told one of his patients that “he was a far more brilliant cardiologist” and that my friend was less experienced than he was.

Another surgeon told personal details about another doctor to his patients including mistakes he made as an intern and his unfortunate marital problems. 

Just recently I overheard a junior doctor thrashing his ward colleague in front of the nurse’s station. He knew I was within earshot and yet continued to speak ill of his colleague who happens to be a trustworthy, humble and talented doctor.

This leads to lack of trust between doctors and dents one’s reputation. A patient is unlikely to respect a doctor who openly criticizes another and may feel threatened you would do the same to them. 

Bullying is not a necessary evil for training doctors 

One of my mentors told me prior to my training as a physician that one of the most important attribute I was expected to develop was a thick skin to criticism and condescension.

Each doctor invariably undergoes a different form of bullying throughout a long career. It can be as subtle as denying one the privilege of referring to a patient’s note while presenting a case just seen barely fifteen minutes ago amid a flurry of admission. Or it can be downright humiliating like being called ‘stupid’ and ‘incompetent’ during morning rounds for an incorrect answer.

I have seen senior surgeons screaming at their residents and interns during surgery for seemingly simple or negligible errors. Every small mistake during surgery is magnified out of proportion and a running commentary will follow suit on how the doctor ‘does not have what it takes to be a good surgeon’.

Physicians are often in a foul mood early in the morning if the lab results are not available on time although the interns would have personally delivered the blood samples to the lab technicians. The interns will face the brunt of their anger knowing full well they did nothing wrong.

Radiologist are often condescending when interns request for an emergency CT scan as they are an easier target compared to the senior consultant whose orders the interns are carrying out.

Family physicians and general practitioners are often the object of irate registrars and consultants who feel they contribute nothing to proper patient care not realizing the crucial role these primary care physicians play in screening patients prior to sending them to tertiary care.

A paediatrician may swear at a doctor for missing an intravenous cannulation on a preterm neonate and then adopt a serene demeanour when facing the parents of the child.

We often excuse doctors who are bullies because they are ‘great with patients’ and are ‘brilliant clinicians’ or ‘gifted surgeons’. This hurts the profession more than you can imagine.

Doctors trained in this hostile environment will foster deep resentment towards their peers. It becomes ingrained in their psyche. Once they get better and more confident they will develop the same impatience that was shown to them towards their junior doctors. And they will in turn become the very bullies they once despised.

This never ending vicious cycle will continue and the interns will mature into senior doctors thinking that bullying and condescension is a necessary tool for training doctors. 

Bullies are cowards. Period. There is no way we can justify the actions of those who continuously seek ways to make the lives of others miserable. Since bullies only respond to strength, the medical hierarchy should start becoming much stronger. Cultures that shun the bullies making them look weak instead of the recipient should be fostered. This is easier said than done as the bullies often sit at the top of the food chain but cultures change because people are committed and steadfast in changing them.

Good and honest communication saves lives 

Newly minted doctors need proper training to become competent and safe. They should be encouraged to ask questions and any uncertainty regarding a patient’s management will be cleared during the rounds. The young doctors learn by observing the intricate process of decision making that goes into managing a patient and in time they will become better clinicians.

Suppose a senior registrar or a consultant barks at every question as it is a ‘waste of his precious time’ or that ‘you are supposed to know this’. The junior doctors will hold back their questions or doubts for they are preoccupied with fear of appearing incompetent or lazy. They fall into the trap of placing emphasis on trying to save face and look like they know what they are doing at all times rather than admitting ignorance.

The interns will dread the clinical rounds and will only perform the most basic of duties such as tracing the lab results, writing the discharge summary and updating the progress notes. They will immerse themselves in paperwork and avoid spending time preparing for clinical rounds.

Since the interns and junior doctors are often the ones manning the wards after clinical rounds while the consultants and registrars are engaged in the busy clinics, subtle deterioration in a patient’s clinical condition can go unnoticed. The interns who lack proper clinical training to detect such dangers or even the ones who may suspect something wrong but hold back in apprehension out of creating a false alarm, may not alert the senior doctors until its too late.

The patient’s care is severely compromised and the interns will retreat further into their shell as they will be blamed for this unfortunate event. If the interns try to defend themselves and argue back, they will be blackballed throughout their career in medical practice and labelled for insubordination. 

And shame does not encourage improvement. The culture of blame and punishment fosters more mistakes and fatalities. Doctors do not report their errors for fear of retribution.

And our mistakes will work its way down to affect the patient’s lives.

The  doctor-patient relationship paradigm depends closely on the doctor-doctor relationship. Bad and damaging cultures foster a hostile atmosphere that erodes trust, tarnishes good communication and promotes disrespect within the medical community. The role doctors play in harming each other ubiquitously affects the patient’s care, however unintentionally. 

If we work in an environment where we are kind, tolerant and respectful of each other, we will in turn be more humane to our patients. Young doctors will be nurtured in system that is steeped in kindness and compassion and they in turn will become sound clinicians who resonate the same values. 

It is, as Plato once said “Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a harder battle”. 

12 Types Of People You Will Meet On Election Day

As we all know that the election is just tomorrow, and there are categories of people we are going to meet on that day and i bring to you, the 10 types of people we are going to meet at the polling unit on election day;

1 The gentlemen/ladies
These are the types of people the will visit the polling unit just to fulfil their mission which is to vote peacefully and after that, go back to their home without any problem. 
2 The elders
These people(mostly men) are always between the age 70-80+ you will always find them sitting under a tree or any shaded area within the polling centre lecturing young men about the history of politics and how the country was going from bad to good and vice versa.

3 The I Too Know (ITKs)
These are the categories of people that you will see jumping from one place to the other as if they are INEC chairman. You will never see them at rest, they can even go to the extent of teaching the INEC officials their works.

4 The ushers
You will always see these categories of people on the queue looking very quiet but when they see a person trying to manipulate the queue, they will just walk to him/her and say something like "Oga, please go and join the queue at the back, we that have being on the line are not animals" they will never leave you until you do the needful. 

5 The coordinators
They are more like the ushers but something special about them is that they are not always on the queue, if they see you trying to sneak into the queue, they will just appear from nowhere and say "hey" then point to the back, due to the fear that you don't know the kind of person they are, you will port to the back with immediate effect.

6 The confused ones
Looking at them only, you will deduce that they are confused. They will always be looking as if someone is about to kidnap them or you will always see them asking questions silly like "Brother, will they collect this PVC from us after we are through?" or "Sister, shebi Buhari the PDP presidential candidate?" They are always annoying. 

7 The VIPs
These are always the big men of the hood, they will just drive down to the polling unit with their expensive ride and walk up to the INEC officials with a bottle water in their hands and do all the necessary stuffs and drive back home immediately 

8 The spacebookers
I usually wonder if that's what they do to make money on that day or they are just naturally mumus. They will be on the queue for hours and when it's almost their turn to vote, someone will just come from nowhere and take their place then you will see them leaving. 

9 The lookers/observers
Some are not even there to vote but to watch people arguing or fighting, you will always see them at alert with their phones getting ready to snap/video any funny or fist throwing event that takes place at the unit. 

10 The fighters
Their own mission is to come and cause violence at the polling unit, they will mistakenly hit you or march you, instead of saying sorry, they will turn it to fight. Be careful when dealing with them

11 The traders
I usually love the courage of these people coz any opportunity they see, they will use it to promote their business. You will see them early in the morning already offloading bags of pure water, snacks, groundnut, coolers of rice and other foods some will even bring their tables to roast boli(roasted plantains) at the polling unit, they are always desperate to make money.

12 The pickpocketers
One of my teachers defined them as "Dem no be thieves ooo but if they pass, something go lost". All they need to do is to just look at your pocket and they will explore everything inside it then you will see them passing your side 24/7 or trying to form familiarity with you, my brother be watchful or else they will steal you sef.

keep calm and vote wisely
May God help us

Dirty Talk: How To Perfect Your Technique…

So you wanna up your dirty talk game, eh? Admirable. If you’ve already experienced dirty talk, you’ll know that sometimes it can get pretty embarrassing. We’ve already saved lives with our helpful guides to BJs, HJs, and handling the ol’ danglers; now we’re upskilling you in sexual oration. Before your next foray into dirty talk, take into consideration the following factors:

1) Establish if they’re into it or not…

You need to know if you’ve got a Grade-A, top-choice filth monger on your hands before you go dropping D-talk on their asses. There are a lot of prudes out there who will want none of your devil-talk sullying their innocent ears.

2) Know the right time to start

Try to set the tone as early as possible in the relationship. If it’s a one-night stand, you have nothing to lose by going full-throttle erotic narrator, but it’s different if you’re in a relationship. Ideally you’ll get into the swing of it from the first time you have sex, but it may be jarring if you’re been going out awhile and you suddenly start talking like a porn star. Just gently ease into it, a little bit here and there until you’re both on the same wavelength. Once you get going you’ll wonder how you ever went without it.

3) Volume control

Everybody loves a bit of loud fuckin’, but please do not scream your dirty talk. The last thing you want is your neighbours repeating back some of your filthiest lines (e.g. “Fuck me like you’ve paid for me”) the next time you’re taking out the bins. Or worse, your flatmates posting it on Facebook.

4) Don’t overdo it

In our piece on the unspoken rules of sex, we’ve already discussed that you do not want to be unintentionally hilarious in the bedroom. Less is more folks, if you find yourself talking a lot during the bumping of uglies, you’re probably doing it disasterously wrong.

5) Know where the line is

If there’s one thing worse than being hilarious during dirty talk, it’s being a freak. And not the good kind of freak. If you go full-on pervert your sexytime companion may not want to come back for seconds. Know the line and do not cross it.

unspoken desire ..... Her story pt3 (+18)

Susan was a 2nd year Biochemistry student in the faculty when I first met her. My course mates were having a lecture in a particular lecture hell I didn’t know about since I was a newbie.

I had already stumbled into two lectures that weren’t meant for me that morning and had just stumbled into the third. The lecture hall was not enough for the students as there were even more standing than those sitting. She was the closest person standing next to me so I tapped her and asked her what lecture was being held there.

She smiled at me and suddenly I felt a flutter in my stomach. She had such a gracious smile, she left the hall to come speak to me outside. She asked my name, I told her. She asked my department and level and I told her, wondering why she needed all that information to tell me what lecture was being held in that hall.

She smiled again and told me that 1st year students hardly had any lectures in the faculty building. Most of our lectures were held in the ETF building which was almost at the other end of the campus. I gave up on going for the lecture altogether, instead of Susan to go back into the hall she decided to shun the lecture and give me a personal tour of the campus, showing me all the buildings and telling me their real names and their short or abbreviated names.

I kept my eyes on her lips while she talked. They were not so full but not so small, just perfect. Her lips reminded me of Chi, my school mother. They both half-smiled with the left side of their lips… their chubby cheeks revealing a beautiful dimple.

I suddenly felt an urge to stop her in her tracks and plant a kiss on her lips like I’d done with Chi. My heart pumped erratically for a moment and I thought I actually would. I somehow managed to keep my lips to myself. I wasn’t even sure if she was into girls like I was. What if she hated lesbians? What if she was one of those girls I had heard about who reportedly ganged up on a couple of girls having sex and beat them with slippers and belts?

I walked around with Susan for a little more than an hour before she asked me what If I would like to go get lunch. I looked at her skeptically and asked her why she was being so nice to me.

She told me it was because I was a newbie and she was bored.  That in fact, I had in a way rescued her from that very boring lecture. I laughed, I told her I would like to go get lunch. And we did. That first lunch together marked the beginning of the long friendship we had together.

Susan treated me like a sister, the more time we spent together endeared me even more towards her. She’d never told me about a boyfriend or a girlfriend and I had chosen not to ask. She had never asked me about my love life and I had never bothered to tell.

One day, when I went to visit her and saw a guy in her apartment. He sat on the only available chair while she sat on the bed with her legs crossed and her stuffed teddy held between her folded hands. She was casually dressed, in a t-shirt and kneelength shorts, and she talked with easiness. I gestured to her that I’d be in the kitchen even though I eavesdropped on everything they were talking about. The dude’s name was Danny and he’d been asking her out since first year. Susan told him she’d always liked him like a friend and could never feel anything more than that for him and begged him to understand.

I was giggling when I heard the way she pleaded with him. In a way I felt sorry for Danny, even though I shouldn’t be seeing as he was trying to take away something from me while I was there thinking I heard Susan say there was someone else she had fallen in love with and there was no space in her heart for him. I stood there thinking about her words. She had fallen in love with someone else? Who could the guy be? Probably one of her course mates. I made a mental note to ask her when Danny left since she’d obviously wanted me to hear it.

Susan joined me in the kitchen and we both prepared semo with egusi soup and ate while we sat down at the small kitchen table. She’d been telling me about Danny and how good he was at Chemistry and how he’d been coaching her in a course she’d never really liked but she could never date him because she had no feelings towards him.

I took the opportunity to ask about the person she’d told him she’d fallen in love with. She paused in mid-chew, her eyes fixed on her plate of egusi soup. I frowned and observed her, a moment of silence passed between us and I could hear my heart beating faster than usual. Finally, she looked up at me and smiled her usual half-smile. She told me it was someone special and she would tell me later. I asked her to at least tell me if ‘he’ was one of her coursemates. Susan got up, picked her  dishes and went to the sink. She put on the tap before asking me this question.

“What makes you think it’s a guy?”

I literally felt my heart explode within my chest. My whole body suddenly became so hot, the delicious plate of Egusi soup before me suddenly became so disgusting. The only appealing thing to me right now was Susan washing her dishes in the sink wearing a t-shirt and jean shorts that showed of her wonderful butt. I didn’t even know what to say. Susan realizing what she must have done to me with her last question turned and said to me.

“Jenny. You don’t have to keep it a secret with me anymore. I’ve seen the way you look at me and I know the way you feel about me.  I want to tell you that I feel the same about you too.”

I felt a tingling between my legs as she spoke those words. I couldn’t even utter  a word, I just stood up, walked quickly to where she stood and kissed her deeply. I didn’t care that my hands were soiled, or that both our mouths tasted of soup. I kissed her so deeply.

She held me so tight and returned my kisses, her tongue finding mine and our breasts crushing into each other. Susan suddenly swung me around and made me rest on the edge of the sink while she used her hands to drag my skirt up. Her fingers were quick and before I could gasp they were already pushing my underwear to the side and fondling my pussy. She kissed me while she finger fucked me with her middle finger.

I gasped with each thrust of her hand. Her tongue was deep in my mouth. Her other hand holding my hair. I’d looked at Susan all this time as a gentle lady who when making love would be gentle and slow but she was nothing like I’d expected. She quickly dropped to her knees, placed my left leg over her shoulder and proceeded to eat me out like I’d never been eaten before. Her tongue went deep inside me, slurping at the juices that oozed out of my pussy. I felt my knees weaken and felt droplets of tears on my cheeks. It felt so damn good. I wished she would never stop. She stood and told me that she wanted us to go to her bedroom. I nodded my head, still unable to mutter any words. I finally got to wash my hands when we both showered in her bathroom. She stooped once more to eat me out again, and I came again.

She took me to her bed and made me lie down, then she asked me if I’d ever been fucked by a guy before. I remembered Christian and the many times he almost put himself inside of me but I refused for fear of the pain that came with losing my virginity.

Susan reached under her bed and withdrew a small box. She opened the box and my eyes widened. Inside that box were dildos of different kinds which I’d only seen in porn videos. I felt a moment of fear but Susan assured me that the pleasure it would give was quite worth more than the pain, she picked a small one, which she called a vibrator, switched it on and put it on my navel. i felt a sensation that I’d never felt before and my whole body shivered. Then she took it up my body and between my boobs. She got to my neck and I just couldn’t take it anymore. I grabbed her hand and directed her back downwards towards my waiting pussy.

The moment the machine brushed past my clit I jerked my waist forward and screamed. Susan used the vibrator on my pussy even more and I came. My pussy leaking with so much wetness. She slowly guided it into me and while my whole body vibrated from pleasure she broke my hymen. I didn’t feel any pain at all. My whole being was still feeling the aftereffects of my orgasm that I didn’t notice. After a while of catching my breath It was time for me to do to Susan all she’d done to me.

First I ate her pussy for all of ten minutes before using the long dildo on her, fucking her while I sucked hard on her nipples. Susan cried while she came. She screamed my name and told me that she loved me.

After that night we became secret lovers. Secret because lesbianism was a crime in the school and anybody caught in the act was either disgraced, raped, half-beaten to death or expelled. Christian kept disturbing me and wanted to know who it was that was my boyfriend that had snatched me away from him. I smiled and never told him the truth because it was one he wouldn’t ever understand. I still felt something for him but I could never bring myself to letting him stick his dick inside of me.

My pussy was for Susan until she either found someone else or decided she wanted to get married, the funniest thing happened when I finally ended up marrying Christian and cheated on him with his sister