Wednesday, 14 August 2013

Could my dirty past be haunting me? Please help before I go crazy

Please, I seriously need advice on this issue. It's been haunting me and tearing my conscience apart since I got married 5 years ago.

After my university education, I did everything possible to ensure I got posted to Abuja and to National Assembly to be precise. I was a very pretty girl with all the right curves in the right places and I didn't want to waste that.

I knew exactly what I wanted to do at the National Assembly  I wanted to make money, lots of money and I knew that the quickest and easiest way was to date Senators. So, as a young, sexy and extremely beautiful 23 year old graduate, I set out on my journey.

At first, it was easy, I got to date senators and they spoilt me with a lot of money but before long, many more girls, even university girls were entering into the business and things began to dwindle. I spoke with one of my (co aristo) friends on how she still manages to have so many senators, white men and very rich politicians dating and spoiling her with so much money.

She introduced me to a very expensive native doctor in the suburbs of Abuja who gave me a tiny string of beads to tie around my waist after some incantations. At first I didn't believe in it's power and reluctantly paid the N250k that I was charge but on my next outing, I was surprised at how much Baba's jazz seemed to have worked.

In 2 years, I had acquired a piece of land in Abuja and developed it. I stayed in a nice rented apartment in Asokoro and drove a Prado Jeep. I had travelled to as many countries as I wanted. Whenever I was in Lagos, I was chauffeured by one of my 'uncles' drivers. In other words, I was a big Abuja girl by all standards and was living very large. Meanwhile, I never spent a kobo from my salary.

I had abortions so many times that it became normal for me. I told myself that if it's still in the first trimester, it was just blood clots and nothing to feel bad about. Inshort, I killed my conscience.

When I was 28, I met this really nice guy who incidentally was also from my home-town. We dated for a while and he proposed. I happily accepted. One week before my traditional wedding, my mother, who knew how I made so much money without discouraging me, died mysteriously.

Before my wedding, I handed over all my aristos to my younger sister who was already 24 at the time and whom I'd introduced to the lucrative business, she had also gone to visit Baba.

Now, it's been 5 years since I got married and I've never been pregnant. Instead, those aristos I dated keep visiting me in my dreams and having sex with me. Sometime, I see the Baba pursuing me and at other times, I see babies laughing at me with money in their mouths.

We've visited different hospital several time but the doctors keep saying we're both ok and we should just be patient. We've done so many tests and tried IVF both in Nigeria and in the US but they've never successful.

I'm so worried, sometimes, I think I'm going crazy. I feel this has to do with my past which I've never disclosed to my husband who is a good Christian. Sometimes, I wish he'll marry another woman or at least get another woman pregnant. I really don't know what to do, I feel I'm being unfair to him. I really love my husband and will hate to hurt him.

Do I disclose my dirty past to him and face his anger and disappointment or do I keep praying for the fruit of womb. Will it ever happen to me? I very much desire to have a child of my own.

Please don't judge me, I'm not proud of my past and I know what I did was wrong. I already judge myself. All I want is genuine advice before I go crazy.

Tuesday, 11 June 2013


Sisi Yemmie is here speaking her mind, some gospel truth; listen and learn! *winks*

Monday, 3 June 2013



Olanrewaju Kayode-Aremu, an 18year old boy was recently arrested by the Lagos State Police Command for stabbing his 46-year-old father, Victor Kayode-Aremu, to death has said he does not regret his action.

He decided to stab his father to death because he could not lay his hands on poison or a gun which he would have used to kill his father. He was reported on May 15, 2013 that the suspect stabbed his father to death at their home located at Langbasa in Ajah. He was a Geology student of the University of Ilorin, Kwara State, but was asked to leave the school due to his poor grades.He is currently being detained at the state Criminal Investigation Department, Yaba, said he killed his father for many reasons.

He said killing his father was a mistake but he still had no regrets.

Olarenwaju said one of the reasons why he killed his father was that his father forced him to study Geology even though he did not like the course. He said, “My father used to maltreat me and my mother was aware of this. Sometimes he would not give me food or money. He sent me to University of Ilorin but I did not get the course I wanted. I was admitted to study Geology but I wanted to study Biochemistry.

“My father forced me to go to the school and after I failed, the school asked me to leave. I started working with my father afterwards and I used to follow him to work. He did not want to send me to school anymore.”

Narrating what happened on the day he killed his father, Olanrewaju said he had complained to his parents that he was not feeling too well but they had ignored him.
He said it was in the usual behaviour of his father to maltreat him, adding that he decided to vent his anger on his father

He said, “On that day that I killed my father, I was ill and I told my parents but they ignored me. I do not really know what came over me. I took a knife and followed my father upstairs and stabbed him repeatedly. He ran downstairs and I chased him downstairs and stabbed him once more. “My mother saw me when I stabbed him to death but she did nothing.” Asked why he decided to kill his father in such a gruesome manner, he said, “I could not get poison or a gun. That was why I stabbed him.”

Olanrewaju, who is the first of five children, said his father married a second wife and this had strained the good relationship the family once had. He said on several occasions, his father had sent him out of the house because he hated him, stressing that he had reported to relatives but no one ever listened to him. Olanrewaju said he killed his father because he believed he would not be arrested due to his young age. He said he thought the murder would be treated as a family affair.

He lamented that since his arrest, family members, including his mother, had refused to visit him. He said, “My mother has not come to visit me since I was arrested. I want her to get me a lawyer. I am still very young. I killed him because I wanted to be free. I did not know I would be arrested. I thought nothing would ever happen to me.

“I am not happy in detention and I want the police to release me; I have suffered enough. I am not happy in the cell.”

-- Punch

Tuesday, 14 May 2013


 Came across this and thought I should share.

Two years. It doesn’t seem long at all, does it?

Two years. Twenty-four months. One-hundred and four weeks. Seven-hundred and thirty days. Seventeen thousand five-hundred and thirty-one hours. One-million fifty-one thousand eight-hundred and ninety-seven minutes. Sixty-three million and seventy-two thousand seconds.

That is when I entered a relationship with a con-man {or woman}. I never found out who it actually was. I don’t know if that’s what bothers me the most – the not knowing. I was young. I was foolish. I was vulnerable. I was all those things when I first entered into the ‘relationship’. If you can call it that.

I was a seventeen year old girl, who had recently suffered from heavy trauma and I was looking for someone – anyone – who could make me feel loved and worthy of something. You would think that I would have turned to my friends and family but I was simply too scared and too ashamed of what happened to tell anyone in my ‘real life’. So, I turned to the internet. It was a website that I found; a site dealing with teen pregnancy, adoption and loss. I thought I was safe on that website. I thought I had found people who understood me. We were going through the same thing after all. That was until a man called ‘Nero’ appeared on the conversation board. A boy on a teen pregnancy website? It certainly caught my attention, along with a lot of others. We began talking about anything and everything.

This is when the elaborate stories began. They started off as believable then they became suspicious. A year passed by. I began digging around in newspaper archives I found online. Essentially, I became my own private detective. I was now eighteen and we still hadn’t met, despite his ‘attempts’ of getting on a plane and coming over here. I was getting older, impatient and suspicious. The stories were crumbling at my feet. I was feeling disillusioned but still, I continued.

I think a small part of me knew that it was all a lie but I was just too emotionally invested to simply walk away. I searched every image ‘he’ sent me, except the ones of himself. I was too scared. I knew that if I searched his image I would find something I didn’t want to know. I pushed it to the back of my mind. I was busy; I had work, I was planning my college career and I was making new friends. He didn’t like that. We broke up. I think we were separated for almost three months before we got back together, properly.
Big mistake.
It was different this time; we fought constantly, we pushed each others buttons, we tried to ‘one-up’ each other all the time. This was not the same relationship I was used to. After months of fighting, I finally snapped and searched an image that he had sent me. It came up as the picture of an international model/movie actor. My world crumbled. I knew it was coming but that didn’t stop it from hurting. I had spent one and a half years of my life caught up in an elaborate lie. 

Now, it’s almost six months on from finding out the truth and it still hurts me sometimes. At the end of the day it was me who got hurt. It was my feelings that were hurt. It was my head that got messed with. It was my heart that got twisted. It was all me. I’ve sat up – late into the night – thinking about what would push a person to do something like that and I have no answers. Unhappiness? Maybe. Boredom? Maybe. Malice? Maybe. A joke? Maybe. For whatever reason – the incident still haunts me and it probably will for a long time.

There’s just one thing that I can’t get over: a part of me is still waiting for him and that part would probably wait forever, if I let her. But I can’t. It’s time.
Two years is a long time. It’s time to let go.

Tuesday, 30 April 2013

Meet musician, Ozzy Bosco – The 6 Year Old “African Super Star”

Really, I don't know why I feel this kid is meant to be doing nursery rhymes, at least that is more age appropriate. But Ozzy Bosco (A.K.A Wonder Kid) is a fast rising entertainer in the Africa's entertainment industry with collaborations with Flavour and more recently, Olamide. He has won a series of awards and is gradually gaining recognition in the international arena. Check out his interview below with NTA Lagos. 

 Enjoy the interview................


Wednesday, 24 April 2013

Royal Tribe: A Must Read-How Owning A Blackberry Helped Ruin My...

Royal Tribe: A Must Read-How Owning A Blackberry Helped Ruin My...: A Must Read-How Owning A Blackberry Helped Ruin My Life.   This is a story I find hard to belief, but I guess it has lessons it can t...

A Must Read-How Owning A Blackberry Helped Ruin My Life.


This is a story I find hard to belief, but I guess it has lessons it can teach. They say its a true life story, as unbelievable as it seems with the recent inhumane treatments being meted out on innocent girls by some heartless cannot doubt the authenticity of this story...

My name is Chinwe, I am 26 years old, I never graduated from the university, simply coz I was stupid and careless. On my 24th birthday, I received a nice gift, it was a blackberry phone, I always wanted one, it was like a right of passage, my ex-boyfriend got it for me, he was a student like me, didn’t have a job, and I really never cared to ask as he could afford it, my concern at that point was, yes I had finally arrived,......

.... other girls in my hostel had blackberries and I would always get pissed when I heard sounds of pings and messages coming into their phones at all hours and I would stare at my
Nokia phone and wish I could throw it away, but half bread they say is better than none, so I hoped and even fasted to get a blackberry phone, looking back now, if I had the opportunity, I’d have a landline with no internet activity what so ever, anyway I got the blackberry phone and even got free. BIS subscription, at that moment my life was complete, no more going to the cyber cafes to check my emails, my face-book or twitter, I had it all at my finger tips, life indeed was complete, or so I thought.

Anyway, I became addicted to my blackberry and also my social media applications, and since I had constant access, I quickly gained enough followers, and especially guys, mostly because I had a lot of er*tic pictures on my timeline, I was popular, finally I felt I was the main girl, everyone wanted to follow me, I didn’t care if it was virtual, it felt good, checking out my profile and having well over 8,000 followers, more than half of which were guys, but one particular guy caught my attention, till this day I don’t know what made him stand out, but we got chatty, he sent me direct messages and I replied, he was quiet a gentleman , and I can’t remember him ever asking for a nudè picture unlike the rest of them, so this made me comfortable with him, his name was Tobi, he said he was a doctor , I didn’t have any cause to doubt him, he had extensive knowledge and even gave me some medical advice from time to time, we eventually moved from twitter to blackberry chat, we chatted all the time, I got so comfortable with him, I gave him my number, and that would come to be the biggest mistake I ever made.

Tobi called me every day, some days he called more than once, at night he would call and I would lay on my bed and have phone sèx with him, his voice was so soothing, he made me do things I never thought possible, he had gained so much access into my head, I realized later I had done some very sick and twisted things just to please him, I would take nudè pictures of myself, I would send him videos of me touching myself in private, and send him voice notes of me making moaning sounds and simulating orgàsms, and all this while we had not met, not face to face at least, eventually I played into
his hands, I began pestering to meet him in person, at this point I had lost my mind, I assumed I was in-love with him, and when my boyfriend at the time broke up with me, I really welcomed it, for me it meant no more sneaking around.

Tobi eventually agreed to come to Lagos to meet me, all this while he had made me to believe he was in Calabar, and would take time off work to spend a weekend with me in Lagos, when I heard this I was excited, he told me to book a reservation for him, stating he would pay me back as soon as he arrived and also he said it would make him more committed to the visit and would convince him of my seriousness, I bought it all, he was smart, he was cunning, and I was stupid, oh how stupid I was. The funny thing was I had sent him tons of pictures, and all I had was just one picture of him, and whenever I asked he would claim he wanted to be sure I loved him for him, and not for his looks, and sheepishly I would try to convince him of my undying love, and would try to appease him with nudè pictures of my body.

He eventually made it to Lagos, I met him at the hotel, he was tall, handsome and had a wonderful smile, he made love to me over and over, and convinced me to spend the night with him, I told him I couldn’t, because I had a test the next morning, now at this point I don’t know what triggered his anger, don’t know if it was because I couldn’t spend the night, or maybe I said something else I can’t remember saying, but whatever it was, brought out a very ugly side of him, he called me foul names, and kept going on and on about how he always knew I was cheap, and he knew I was sleeping with other men, the same man whom had swept me away, slammed me on the floor, he told me of how he had shown his friends all my nudè pictures and how they had watched the videos and listened to the voice notes, he told me he had made a bet with his friends, that I would actually pay for him to have sèx with me, just to prove how stupid I was, well you can imagine how I felt, I was confused and shocked, but I attempted to regain any little dignity I had left, and so I tried to mouth off at him, suddenly he punched me in the face, and I tripped over, and hit my head on a stool.

The next thing I remember was waking up on the bed, I was tied up, and he was staring at me, his eyes were dark and he had a sinister smile on his lips, he stood up and walked towards me ,I tried to scream and realized my mouth was tapped, my head was racing, the unfortunate part
was that no one knew where I was, he turned me over, and told me he was going to teach me a lesson, at this point I was unclad, he rapped me from behind, and I mean my anus, the pain was mind blowing, I struggled, and he hit me, when he was done he brought out a small blade, and he looked at me for a minute and said, this scar is going to always serve as a reminder, for girls like you always trying to be more than you are, for stupid fools like you, he put the blade to my
bosom and cut it off, and anytime I think of it, I still feel the pain, it was like nothing I had ever felt before, he was calm, like he had done it a million times, I could feel the warm blood dripping down my mutilated chest, tears of fear and pain running down my face, and suddenly he turned around again, this time
all I saw was a flash.

I don’t know how I survived it, but I woke up in a hospital days after, well I was awake, but my eyes were swollen shut, It took a couple of days for me to open my one good eye, and realize d damage he had done, he had plucked out my eye, and cut my face,
he had cut my breasts up real bad, they had to it out, like I had cancer or something, there was no record of who I was, coz he had taken everything, he had taken my bag, containing everything I had. I was able to tell the nurses about what I could remember, and also give them my mum’s phone number, the hospital felt so much pity, they actually treated me for free, hard to
believe right?

Anyway I was taken home after weeks at the hospital to recuperate, it was tough, I was blind in one eye, I had one chest and a hideous scar of my face, talk about your sinage, he did a number on me, how dumb was I, sometimes I wish he had killed me, but there are fates worse than death, and I guess this is one of them, he was gone without a trace, the receipt

from the hotel was in my name, so yes he had played me from the start.

I didn’t dare go back to school, I was sure everyone would have heard, and I was not going to become a statistic, so I decided to stay home, and mind my business, besides what do I need an

education for, I’d rather stay home, because there is no rising from this, there is no happy ending to this story, this is the simple ending, I was a victim if a sèxual predator, and I let him into my life period, and I take full responsibility for that, I was driven by greed and lack of morals, I allowed myself fall into an abyss, but well saying all this doesn’t change anything, it’s a memory I will have to live with for the rest of my life, well not a memory, because I look at myself in the mirror everyday, who would want to see a nudè picture of a woman with one chest, one eye, and a stub.

I have decided to publish my story, because with the rise of social media atrocities being committed, every story can go a long way in saving a life, so while you read, SHARE and help someone back to the right path, these internet predators are real.

May Almighty God Help us all. “Amen”