Ruki’s Desire

What I’m about to write may be a little unusual, but I recently completed Stephen King’s Dark Half  and came out into the bright sunlight to see two sparrows take flight from the roof above my window. So I guess, there is a little George Stark in me right now, and I want to pen.

Ah yes..this contains scenes involving sex, violence and other quite disgusting stuff. For the sqeamish and innocent at heart, please stop readin now.


“ Are you going to be home tomorrow?” he typed




“Because I’m coming to fuck you..”


Peter was blunt. He was always blunt. It was a privilege afforded tall, handsome men with strong fingers and sensual  eyes. His lips, though full and inviting, were cruel and constantly parted in the most sardonic grins. But men found him sexual and were attracted to the danger he presented. So he used them, used those eyes they were attracted to, and beguiled and betrayed and dumped.

Ruki was shocked and annoyed and secretly pleased. She hadn’t heard from Peter in almost a month, asides a half-hearted “Happy Sunday” chat two weeks ago. And here he was pinging her now, for sex! Well, she had a boyfriend now, as she had informed him two Sundays ago, and he had one too. So leave me alone for gossakes!

But she knew.

She knew she wanted him. Knew deep within her, in that sweltering core that was slowly beginning to moist, that she needed him.

“Gerrawt jor!” she typed. “That’s how you’ll talk and you’ll not show”  That much was true.

He sent a ‘devil smiley’. “Tempt me!”

She grinned, her centre getting wetter, and told herself it was just harmless flirting.

“LOL,” she typed, and sent a ‘batting eyelashes smiley’.

“So, 10:00am?” he typed.

“Haba! Isn’t that too soon? I won’t have bathed even…”

“Better…I want you dirty even..”

She giggled then, and shifted her position, her body was beginning to get that warm feeling. An image coursed through her mind: she and Peter, naked, twisted among the sheets, as she clutched at his back, her centre thrust toward him, her neck arched back in desire.

“’re just too horny..” she typed.

As she watched the message deliver. The screen suddenly dissolved to show an incoming call. The caller ID read ‘Nathan’. Inwardly, she groaned in exasperation, as the flow of hormones to her brain cut off suddenly. She thought about ignoring the call. But he’ll only call again. And then he’ll ask questions.

“Hello..?” she answered sullenly. Almost guiltily.

“Hello baby..” her boyfriend replied.

Fifteen minutes later, she ended the call. Her phone beeped with a new message. She checked. Peter.

“I just want you so badly now. You can barely imagine. Or maybe you can..’grin smiley’..wait for me, 10:00am”

And then later, “I’ll bring chocolate..and the pineapple flavoured ones…”

He meant condoms, she thought, with a throb of guilt and an inner warmth spread through her again.

Oh, Peter..


Two years ago, she was in 100l, a fresh student, new to school and innocent as a jay-bird in July. It was afternoon and she had been buying a novel from a stand in the shopping complex right beside her Science faculty. Till now, she wasn’t sure if she had been listening subconsciously, or if her ears had suddenly picked up on the sound of a particular word or phrase, but she suddenly wanted to know who the voice belonged to. And when she saw him, her heart gave one of those little flutters.

He wasn’t as tall then, and his features weren’t as chiseled,  but as he stood talking animatedly with his friends: two guys and a girl, about some author he had just read, she was taken. To hear him talk, Ruki found herself wanting the book, wanting his voice, wanting him. These were emotions strange to her then, and for a while she was both excited and puzzled. The girl with him, a skinny thing, kept looking with such rapt attention as Peter talked, her nostrils flared as though to drink in the very scent of him. Ruki found herself getting jealous of the proximity.

As a sharp Sapele girl, to whom slacking is not an option, she called out in her best accent, and asked what novel it was they were talking about. He turned then, dark-brown eyes appraising her quickly; expertly. If he liked what he saw, he gave no sign. But he smiled when she said, she could have heard him from the other side of the campus, with the way he praised the book, and if she bought it and the author was no good, she’ll probably have no choice but to jump naked in a bowl of hot egusi.

“He is that good,” he laughed. His mind probably already imagining her naked, 5’5, narrow-waisted form drenched in oil. The other girl hissed in envy.

She achieved two things that day. One was exchanging numbers with Peter and the other was buying a copy of Janusaneni’s latest bestseller.

It wasn’t till a year after that they first fucked. After that night, she was completely smitten. She bought a new Janusaneni the next day.

Outside, Peter was sarcastic, malevolent and a playful tease. In bed, he was  nothing but a beast. He tore at her, devoured her in ways she thought impossible, leaving her spent and sore and always wanting more each time.

But it was never normal.

One time, he let himself into her room while she was in the bathroom, using his spare key. He then hid beside the bathroom door, waiting for her to come out. As she stepped out, oblivious, clad in only her towel, her shoulders and legs glistening with beads of water, he came up behind her and clamped a hand over her mouth. She nearly fainted from shock. Shoving her against the wall, he tore at her towel. Instinctively, her brain still reeling from the shock, her first reaction was to retrieve her towel and cover her nakedness and she bent over. Without warning, he stuck a finger right into her vagina. She tried to scream then, but his hand was firm over her mouth and all that came out was a muffled cry. Then he spoke in her ears, his voice a harsh whisper.

“I’m going to fuck you Ruki.”

Turning her around, so she faced him, he pinned her to the wall and bit her shoulders. His eyes were wild and crazy.

“Peter, sto..” she tried to say, but his hand was over her mouth again. She could smell her sex on his fingers, and impossibly, crazily, she began to get moist.

Peter? Peter was already naked and ready for action.


Are you going to be home?

I’m coming to fuck you!


She had had other men. Some were boisterous, some languid and sensual, but none of the experiences, none of the styles could hold a candle to Peter’s. Peter was an animal. There was no conventionality with him.

Once she was on the toilet bowl, taking a shit. They  had just come from this Chinese restaurant, and it was already obvious, from the groans and loud noises erupting from her anus, that any food prepared by a small yellow person was certain to disagree with her.

Suddenly Peter was in the bathroom, naked, his small member, swollen and throbbing.

“What the hell are you..?? Can’t you see I’m in the..!”

“I want to fuck you Ruki.”

And so he had. Right there in the bathroom, her head in the sink, her arms flailing to the sides, dribbles of yellow shit falling from her buttocks to splatter against the white floor tiles. He thrust into her, repeatedly, consistently, for hours it seemed. Till she was lost in a kaleidoscope of colours, and pleasure, and later pain.

He was insatiable.

He was coming tomorrow.


The next day, at 10:15am, the knock came on her door. Light and yet, insolent. Like he owned the place.


She opened it, and there he was. First time she was seeing him face-to-face in almost a year.

“Hi,” he grinned shyly, his eyes twinkling. “That’s a nice gown. Chocolate?”

She loved him. Of that she was sure. Why she loved him? Why she loved this coarse, very dangerous animal? Of that, she had no idea.

She let him in.

All through the night and early in the morning, she had steeled herself. She was prepared for him. She was prepared to rebuff all his advances. She knew her desire might betray her and for that reason, she had set the stage to detract from such intentions. The curtains were wide open with the bright sunlight streaming in, and playing on her TV was The Hobbit, the most ‘un-sexual’ movie she had. But he made no pass. For all intents and purposes, he was there simply for the movie, and the chat from last night might as well have been typed by a mischievous alter ego. She decided not to bring it up.

They watched the movie, while he lay with his head across her lap, her hands unconsciously stroking his face. They were perhaps fifteen minutes into the movie, chewing on chocolates and laughing, when she suddenly stood up, walked to the door, locked it, and let down the curtains.

“Ah..a cinematic feel eh?” he started.

She straddled him, and kissed him, deeply and fully on his lips. For a second, he seemed to hesitate, and then he was kissing her back, but not in the usual hungry manner. He was kissing her slowly, almost sensually.

What was happening?

But she couldn’t help herself, she wanted him. Had wanted him for so long. Still kissing him, her expert hands flew over his shirt, unsnapping his buttons. In seconds she had his shirt and singlet on the floor. She was already naked. There was nothing underneath her gown.

“Fuck me Peter…”

“Ruki calm down. I…”

“Fuck me dammit!” she was trembling.

She didn’t care if he was in a homosexual relationship. She wanted his body. She always had. She needed that canine ferocity he brought into his lovemaking. Stabbing her nails into his naked chest, she scratched deep red lines on his skin, drawing blood.

Peter roared. Inflamed. Twisting around he slammed her into the bed and slapped her.

Yes..yess.. she moaned.

But still he paused. “Ruki, I shouldn’t have come here today. I just wanted to talk to you that’s all. I really can’t do this anymore.” He got up from the bed and picked his shirt off the floor. Ruki was stunned. Whaaaat?!!

Hell no! She scrambled up from the bed, her heavy breasts swaying, and grabbed his arm. “You wait here! Where are you going?!”

That was when he pushed her.


If you didn’t look at her head, she seemed to be sleeping. She lay on her left side; her right arm flopped over in front of her. Her head however rested at an unusual angle against the wooden side of the bed, her eyes open and sightless. Peter was stunned.

Oh my God! I’ve killed her! When he pushed her, there hadn’t really been that much force! It was the chocolate! It was the fucking Cadbury wrapper! When she stepped on it , she had slipped and fallen backwards while he looked on. Her head had struck the sharp end of the bed rest where it protruded towards the doorway. The sound it made had been sickening, like the sound of breaking coconut. At first he thought it was an ordinary bump until she slid to the floor with her neck at that angle. Then he realized, she had hit her neck.

He crouched beside her, afraid to touch the corpse. Oh my God! He wondered if the neighbours had heard her when she called to him. But he doubted it. It hadn’t been that much of a shout. He drew out her legs. Her head fell to the floor with a dull, lifeless thud. From her mouth trickled a thin line of blood. He stiffened. His penis stiffened.

He touched her lips, using his thumb to paint the blood on her lips. He got harder. He caught sight of the Cadbury wrapper, there was some chocolate still left in it. He took out the chocolate, it had gotten mashed up and coated his fingers nicely. He smeared some of it on her vagina. Peter smiled. Then he got naked.


I can’t go on abeg..

Raw material..
Raw material..


  • I love Cadbury’s Dairy milk
  • These events are not based on any real events, however close they may seem
  • I am not a violent man, nor ehm..lover. (¬_¬)

I hate abusive relationships. If you’re in one, GTFO of it!!! You will die.

GTFO = Get The Fuck Out. [I have no idea why I didn’t put that earlier]

Follow on Twitter @janus_aneni. Also follow the blog via the link below or at the top of this page, and like our Facebook page! 😉

Peace to Nigeria.


Tangles! X – Season Finale

First of all, I want to apologise to all who waited for this final instalment. The delay, and any others previously experienced were not entirely my fault. The rumours concerning my incarceration at a certain State CID cell are nevertheless, not entirely untrue. That haven been said, please read on, enjoy, have fun and uhm..yes, this episode is gonna be quite long..but then, it’s the last episode!

#np Skyfall – Adele

This is the end.
‘All things that begin, end, all flowers that grow, die..’ I read that somewhere once. I write it down now, so I shall read it again.. The writer scribbled on, the words coming in bits and spurts. The dim light from a Nokia Torchlight phone illuminated his orange diary, leaving his face in shadow. His mind churned, the gears whistled, and as the ink flowed, the characters lived and did and died.

These events occurred simultaneously between the seconds of 12:15:24pm and 12:15:49pm.


Paul dropped the i-Pad on the bed and twisted to get a cup of water from the bedside table. A cold and yet hot shaft of pain suddenly tore mercilessly through his back like the steel edge of a wicked blade.
“Arrrrgh!! Nurse!!” He screamed.


The car swerved suddenly.
“What’s wrong?” Tony asked sharply.
“I don’t know,” replied Rebecca. “If I didn’t know better I’ll say my baby kicked.”


“Let me go!” She screamed, but all that came out was a muffled sound, the words choked behind the mouth gag. She squirmed in her bondages, he hands and legs well trussed and lashed to the burglary proofing on the window. The muslim man continued what he was doing.


It is advised that you read the previous stories that led up to this if you haven’t before. And here are their links..
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Chapter VI
Chapter VII
Chapter VIII
Chapter IX

Tangles! – a tale of twisted emotions.

The great Noetic scientist and crank billionaire Paul Temple, believed that thought processes rule the world. Freud also theorized that emotions are key to our individual and group psychology. He qualified this under sexual urges and quantified the force as libido. In the Bible it is called Faith. In this world I call it Fate.


He was frozen in place. To lean back was to invite excruciating pain, to lean forward any further was to suffer mind-numbing aches.
“NURSE!” He hollered again. He was out of breath. He couldn’t take in a single breath. To breathe was too painful and he could take no more. Two nurses rushed in, shocked and pale as white sheets. Somewhere in his pain-wracked mind, he realised it was the pretty one with the nice massages that entered first.
“15ccs Demerol,” the second nurse cried. “And call for Dr. Akpan.”
The injection was jammed into his neck and immediately he began to feel woozy. The pain vanished and then, all feeling went too. Before his eyes the faces of the nurses swam and his last coherent thought before he blacked into void was, Am I going to be paralysed?


“Your baby..” murmured Tony.
Rebecca glanced at him, her hands on the wheel. “What..?”
Tony grinned. She didn’t. She knew that grin. That was the grin for when he wanted to say something essentially foolish and he wanted you to think it was a joke.
“So you really wanna keep it?” He grinned.
“Of course I wanna keep my baby! And don’t call my baby a it.”
The car was in silence for a few minutes. Rebecca took the Oshodi turnoff.
“I’m sorry,” Tony apologised.
“It’s alright. I’m pregnant you know, all emotional, like PMS,” she smiled.
Tony grinned.
“So have you told the Senator?”
“Hell no! Not yet. Dad would kill me.”
“You do know you have to tell him sometime..”
Paul doesn’t know either, thought Rebecca.
Tony was thinking the same thing. How on earth did she plan to do this? Take her ex-boyfriend in tow while she broke the news of her pregnancy to the father of her unborn child as he lay on his sick bed. He would fall into a coma.
“What did you say?” He asked.
Rebecca trafficated. “Where is your mind? I said, I really wonder who Sharon is.”
Sharon?! “Huh?”
“Sharon na! The girl I told you called me with Paul’s phone. I spoke with her a couple of more times. Her name is Sharon.”
Tony laughed. What are the odds?
“What is it?”
“Oh nothing,” he replied. “Don’t worry your pretty head. She’s probably his sister.”
Rebecca sped up as the road cleared. That’s exactly it. As far as she knew, Paul had no family.


Dr Akpan pored over the charts. What had they missed?
The patient lay on the bed, the tortured expression on his face detailing that despite the sedative induced sleep, Paul was definitely fighting demons in that head of his.
There had been some strain on the spine as the patient was retrieved from the crushed vehicle, but the swelling had reduced.
Oh God! He should have ordered an X-ray.
Where the hell was this man’s girlfriend at a time like this? The visiting needed to be called off! Not today!

There are certain paths to life. Each man is born at the fork of the road. The path which he takes is his choice and his alone. But a man must be decisive and choose his path or with the flow of other travellers it would be chosen for him.

Silver Cross Hospital

“Shh..” He murmured even though he knew she could make no noise. “Stay still, you don’t wanna ruin this do you?”
Sharon’s eyes widened as she saw what he was holding.

2 hours earlier…
The thought had been paramount in his head.
We are who we are. We do what we do because we must. This is who you are. This is what you must do.
Then she stepped into the vehicle.
“Silver Cross Hospital,” she said.
She was the most beautiful person he had ever seen. Her hair glistened in he sunlight as the strands wafted in breeze as the taxi zoomed down the streets.
He had muttered prayers under his breath, seeking answers to his weakened resolve. And finally the voiced heard him.
“Silver Cross Hospital,” he heard himself say.
Perhaps it had been the way he said it, but whatever it was, she had become spooked. He could see it in her eyes; distrust had suddenly begun to radiate off her being.
His new life had begun a few years ago with a bump to the head. Not everyone can claim they joined a fascist militant group after being hit by the car of the benefactor, but that was his story. Two years into the group and it was his first mission. The Muson Centre. 2:00pm. But that was before he met this girl. It was a sign. He would be used as an instrument to return the sick souls to his bosom.
Abdul spliced two wires together and plugged them into a socket. The digital readout came on. It was armed.

Silver Cross Hospital – Upstairs

The tunnel pulsated with an eerie light and the sound of rushing air and water, such as one hears when listening to a sea-shell. He couldn’t see his feet, maybe he had no feet, maybe he had no body, but somehow he knew, somehow he was aware. Childhood flashed by in a blur and he was reminded of all achievements, all joys, all losses. Love, guilt, fear, sadness and triumph flowed through him as one and his heart beat rapidly. Or maybe it didn’t. He had no heart. But there was a severe pain in his chest and he suddenly felt breathless.

Dr. Akpan pounded his chest again.
“He is flatlining!” yelled a Nurse. The pretty one.
The doctor was flabbergasted, but he kept his cool. Already, the patient’s face was beginning to look gray and pasty. Recognising the signs of suffocation, the doctor opened Paul’s mouth, tilted the head at an angle and blew air down into the man’s lungs. The EKG whined.
Warris all this?

Mile 2 – Badagry Expressway

“We’ll pass this way,” announced Rebecca.
Tony nodded. His phone rang.
“It’s me.” It was her. The pretty girl.
“What’s up? I don’t have this number.”
“I know, I’m calling from a payphone.”
“Okay…” Tony frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“Don’t go with her Tony, I think something is about to go wrong.”
“I don’t understand.”
“If you go with her, your ex, something bad will happen.”
Tony rolled his eyes; jealousy.
“Nothing bad would happen, okay? I think I wan control myself reasonably enough. I’ll talk to you later.”
He ended the call.
“Who was that?” asked Rebecca.
“A jealous chick,” he replied, staring out the window at the Festac boulevards.

Silver Cross

Abdul strapped the vest on Sharon. The bands of wires twisting from every corner, red, blue and green, ending in circuits which were connected to fused diodes. The fuses in turn encircled the two sticks of dynamite and plugged into the 20g C4 explosive. The satchel lay on the floor, empty.
Sharon wept.
The tears flowed freely out of her eyes as she contemplated the end of her life. Oddly in those moments, she didn’t think of Paul or of Tony or of any of her previous boyfriends. She didn’t think of GOD or Jesus or attempt any prayer for salvation. Despite her hardy outlook on life, she didn’t even envision escape or make any such plans. And it never crossed her mind to wonder at the loss of life that would be evoked in the hospital, or the carnage which would ensue as her body exploded. Sharon thought of her father, the Bishop. For no reason at all.
As the tears slowed down her face, her misty eyes imploring the muslim man, her hands tied helplessly behind her, her thoughts bent to her father. For no reason.
She didn’t remember him playing with her, or dancing or even talking. She just remembered him. Frustration tore at her very fabric, she was helpless in her fate. She would die this day.
Abdul saw the tears. They didn’t move him.
“Tears are a part of life. They are the last proof we are human. When we cry we cleanse, when we cry we purge, but most importantly, when we cry we regret. You are past human, my son. You have been mandated by God. You cannot regret. You do not know tears.”
Taking out the gun, he checked the magazine. It was full. Twelve rounds. It was enough.
“Let’s go.”


The patient snorted. Dr. Akpan sighed in relief. One of the nurses fainted. Another nurse blurted “Halleluyah!” But Paul was back online and breathing, although shallowly.
The door opened and an orderly wheeled in the respirator machine. Dr. Akpan just glared at him.
“No more morphine!” the doctor barked.
Until the understood the reason for the crash, this patient was staying off all barbiturates and painkillers.

The lights of the tunnel had vanished. All seemed calm now. For some reason though, he felt he had to wake up. Wake up from his dream. There was something to do. Someone to see. But who?


Sharon regretted. Instinct had warned her right from the can, but she had ignored it. As she stepped out of the cab at Silver Cross, he had followed her. She had heard his footsteps closing in as she walked down the corridor behind the staircase. As soon as the corridor was empty he had grabbed her from behind, clamping his hand over her mouth to cut shut the scream. He then dragged her into an empty room. Her head had crashed against the door jamb and she blacked out. When she came to, she was lashed hands and feet to the burglary proofing with a gag over her mouth. Try as she might, no one could hear her scream. The door was locked and he was making a bomb.

Silver Cross

The doors opened and Tony and Rebecca strode into the lobby of the hospital. The air was saturated with disinfectant and the sickly smell of drugs. Upstairs, Dr. Akpan watched his patient breath raggedly. Suddenly a woman screamed. Tony looked up and saw Sharon wearing some sort of bomb vest, a bearded man in a small prayer cap stood beside her, holding a gun. The sight of the bomb on Sharon and the image of the gun had barely registered when the muslim man raised the weapon and fired at the orderly beside the door. The report was deafening. In the ensuing silence that followed, broken only by the sound of the orderly sliding to the floor, his body leaving a trail of blood across the wall, three things happened at the same time:
Dr. Akpan cursed and ran for the door; the patient, Paul, jerked suddenly and in Rebecca’s stomach there was a violent jolt as her baby seemed to kick.
All this while, Tony stood transfixed, staring across the lobby at Sharon’s tear-streaked face, her mouth gagged, her eyes imploring.
The muslim man shouted; “Allahu akhbar!”
Tony lunged.


(In no particular order)
Miss Azee
And every other person who might have helped one way or the other with the creation of this story so far.

* I never really knew what I was doing with this piece. The characters just seemed to grow by themselves and well..I hope we had fun.

Thanks for reading!
*sniff sniff*


Tangles!: Episode V

Hello, my name is *insert name* I play Paul in Janusaneni’s Tangles! I’m a banker, love driving and well…speeding. In the first episode, I escape an accident and then fall into one. I am then knocked out for an entire episode, and only recover in the third episode, when I am rescued. In this episode I am in the hospital. Uhm..*voice from backstage..”The tangle!”*..oh yeah, I’m so far the love interest of one lady in the story, and the assumed love interest of another. Uhm..keep reading Tangles!

Tangles! – a tale of twisted emotions.



The beat of ‘Nawti – Olu Maintain’ boomed out the speakers and the crowd hollered.

“ me or hate me, can’t stop my delivery
they feeling me / buying everything, like it’s monopoly.
I keep it drama free, why’re you tryina embarrass me,
You f**king up yourself B..!
Love me or hate me, can’t stop my delivery,
they feeling me/ buying everything like it’s drug money..”

Before him, the crowd was on their feet and shouting. The lights were in his eyes, but he could feel their presence, see their hands, hear their voices. He felt light. He felt happy.
“And that was T-lion!” the MC shouted over the din. The crowd kept screaming and whooping as Tony walked off-stage. It would be nice to get used to this.


They had swaddled him in bandages and everywhere there was lint and wires and blood patches. His body was broken. His beautiful body was in pieces. A memory flashed through Sharon’s mind. It was a year ago, and they had been in the gym. Paul had dropped the dumbell and walked towards her, his movements were smooth, casual and powerful. His sweatshirt was wet with sweat and stuck to his skin, and you could see the ripples as he moved. “You gotta keep your body fit Shae. You exercise your body, it will stay beautiful. Like mine.” He winked. He was the first person to ever call her Shae. Tears came unbidden to her eyes.
“Is he going to be okay?” She asked Dr Akpan.
“Right now he is heavily sedated, but his bodily functions are alright. There was minor injury to his spinal column when he was being pulled from the vehicle, but…”
Sharon heard the doctor but her eyes were fixed on Paul, who twitched suddenly. Would he hear her is she talked to him? “What did you say Doctor?” The doctor took no offense. He was used to it.
When the taxi carrying Paul’s screaming body arrived the Emergency section of the hospital, the doctors immediately swung into action. After a quick session in the theater, they had him injected with enough morphine to float the Titanic, wrapped him up, like a mummy in Antarctica, and wheeled him into a private room.
“…has been ringing with calls from a particular number. As his Emergency contact, I thought you’ll like to know so as to reply these calls,” Dr Akpan said softly.
They were seated in the doctor’s office. On the table lay Paul’s phone, a white Blackberry 9800. Sharon took the phone and scrolled through the missed calls. Becks. A business partner? She dialled. Then she remembered her phone.


A girl’s voice?
“Is this Becks?”
Only one person ever called her Becks.
“Yes, this is..”
“Okay, uhm..Paul is indisposed at the moment, and would not be able to come to the phone.” What?
“Why is that? Is he ok?”
The concern in Rebecca’s voice must have been evident and whoever she was speaking to must have realised that because, when the reply came, it was softer. “Paul has been involved in an accident dear, but he is recovering..”
The world suddenly spun in a dizzying cycle. Rebecca clutched the edge of the table to steady herself. “Accident? How?” She cried. The flood of emotions and worry came rushing back.
“According to the doctor, he is stable now. There was a minor altercation with a truck, but he is okay now. You should not worry,” came the insistent reply in that female voice. The tears swam before her eyes, and her vision blurred. Truck? “Which hospital?” She managed to croak.


“Nice one man.”
“Thanks,” Tony smiled at the afro-haired guy in glasses. The geek walked away, squinting through his spectacles. Tony took out his phone again, there was still no message from Sharon, though five messages awaited him on BBM. He slid open the phone and navigated to his Twitter account. “Awesome show tonight fam! Thanks for the support guys..” He tweeted.
On his timeline, the topic was mainly about an accident in Festac which had messed up traffic and caused a build-up on the Lagos-Badagry expressway. How does this concern people who are in faraway Bonny?
He closed his Twitter page.

To be continued…


The writer sits at a desk in the staff room of the school. His fingers are  caked in chalk dust and up on the sleeves of his shirts and in his hair, the tiny white grains flutter and settle and flutter and settle, in time with his movements, giving him some sort of halo in the afternoon light. As usual, he scribbles into the pages of an orange leather-bound book. His thoughts are in his story and for the moment, he is lost in the world of his characters.
A student approaches the desk timidly. The writer looks up from what he is writing, his piercing eyes gazing at her with a bored expression. “We have you now sir.”

*Any similarities to persons living or dead is purely coincidental or intended as some form of malice. Do take offense.
* T-lions lyrics supplied by Ohdes, @Ohdes_so_goon, copy and paste link and download his hot single “Nawti freestyle rmx”

Tangles: Episode III

At the beginning, you were warned, I think, that Tangles would be well..a bit Tangly (thanks Amy)right? Good. Well, today we’re picking off from where we left at episode 1. You can follow shey? Shey? on. funny stuff today.

Tangles! – a tale of twisted emotions.

Festac, Lagos.

He was running, in darkness.
Behind him the monster chased, hard on his heels, an evil, foul beast, with horns and sharp teeth, and the words ‘Danbaba cement’ tattooed across its chest. How he knew this, he could not tell. Each time he glanced back, he saw nothing but an inky black void and in his ears, the hoarse breathing of the monster at his heels.
Run! his mind screamed. I must run faster!
But his legs were weak and heavy, and the end was too far away. So he fell, deeper and deeper, and then he stopped falling. Something had caught him. It was the monster, and it was squeezing him. Squeezing him so tight he felt his bones breaking and he thought he would die. The pain exploded his head in a blaze of light and his eyes opened and he saw the battered windshield and smelled the blood.
Then he remembered. The pothole, the trailer carrying cement, losing control, crashing into a wall, blacking out. As he remembered, the pain came back in full force, and Paul groaned.
“E dey move, e dey alive!”
“Oga! Oga! You fit hear me?”
There were shapes moving across his vision, pale figures, but he could not see them clearly, the sun was too bright. There was a crash. Someone had broken his windscreen and was climbing in.
“No,” he tried to say. “Don’t break my car.” but all that came out was a feeble whimper. If they break my car, how will I get there. She needs me. She’s waiting for me.
Someone tried to lift him up, but he could not move. Another pair of hands came to assist, and together, they tugged at his inert frame. A wave of agony suddenly surged through him, tearing across his back, sending shock after shock to his brain. Paul screamed.
As he passed out, the last words he heard were “You don paralyse am…” Then everything went dark.


“Wat r u puttin on?”
“The usual..”
“*sharp intake of breath* Nothing..?”
“*wink smiley*”
“Don’t do dis na..u knw I’m too far away”
“*devil smiley* lol..but if u were, wat wld u do?”

Sharon sipped orange juice from a box while she waited for the reply to her BBm message. She was resting on a couch in her usual stay-at-home b-ball jersey and a pair of stone washed bum-shorts, contrary to her ‘BBm outfit’.
Her phone rang.
“Is this Sharon..*network static*..”
“I am sorry, there’s been an accident..”
For the next five minutes, while she tossed on clothes and summoned her cab driver, her thoughts were a blur. She could still hear the caller, Doctor something..
“…accident..Paul..truck..Silver Cross Infirmary..listed as emergency number…”
It was almost impossible. Paul in an accident? How?!
A horn beeped outside. Mahmoud was already here. Grabbing her ATM card and keys, she ran out the door.
Tears blinded her eyes as she ran down the stairs. She had left him before, but no more. She would not make that mistake again. He needed her now, more than ever. And she’ll be there for him.
“22 road,” she barked, jumping into the passenger seat.
On the table in her sitting room, the Blackberry purred as the messages kept pouring in..
to be continued…

*Danbaba cement is not a spoof of any other cement company, and neither is Silver Cross..
*I do not sext. 😐

Nuff said, appreciations to Miss Azee for this post, and apologies for the time wasted.

Ff on twitter @janus_aneni


Tangles: Episode II


Okay, last post was a little too long, but then, it was the premiere episode. Anyway, being the wonderful, magnanimous guy that I am, I hereby declare that todays post would not be long! *holds for applause*..Okay. Well, a few rules while we go on, you see Tangles is written in uhm..a sorta weird sequence (I’m sure it has a name in Literature), so, events occur in real time, but they do not literally follow sequence. You get shey? Ah well, just read sha, you will understand somehow.

*soundtrack of towncrier ringing large bell* Tangulu! Tangulu! Tangulu!

*background voice, sounding suspiciously like @JNyX_Melah* Tangles, a tale of twisted emotions…




Four months earlier…

Victoria Island, Lagos

The man in the red cape stretched his hammer towards the heavens. In that same instant, the air crackled with electricity and lightning streaked from the skies to curl around the great metal head of the mighty war hammer. Without missing a beat, the cloaked man hurled the bolt of lightning at his opponent, another man in a red metal suit. Instead of shrieking in pain, the metal man trembled as though he was infused with some additional strength. All about them, the air sizzled with electricity and the forest shook with the clashing of the two foes.

Tony dipped his fingers into the popcorn pack and risked another glance sideways. She was still there, and still beautiful. She was light-skinned and slim, as far as he could tell, and the nerdy Ray Bans she had on gave her a perfect chic look. She was pretty, and she was not noticing him. He concentrated on the movie.

The red metal man had smashed the red cloaked man into the side of a mountain. Large boulders the size of SUVs crashed down, sending a shower of sparks and rubble. Suddenly, the cloaked man spun, his thick blond hair flying about like the mantle of a god, and kicking  off the surface of the mountain, sent both of them hurtling back through the treetops to the forest below at amazing speed. They struck the forest bed in a tangle of bodies, somersaulting head over heels. The impact was such that trees were uprooted whole from their bases. The metal man recovered first. Rearing up…

Tony continued to watch the movie, but his concentration was split. Often, his thoughts drifted to the girl beside him and he glanced at her. She seemed to be enjoying the movie far more than he was; giggling at all the jokes, ‘awwing’ at the right moments, while watching the action sequences with such rapt attention sometimes her hands remained poised over her popcorn pack.

When the screen showed a sallow-faced, pasty-eyed white man in robes listening from behind a glass-walled cell to a tall, one-eyed black man, Tony decided to use his chance.

“Hey,” he whispered. “What’s up? My name is Tony.”

The girl turned to him and smiled teasingly. M’lawd! She’s really pretty!! “I thought you’ll die of shyness before talking. My name is Sharon.”

Ogba, Lagos.

“Oh fuck it!!”

She stood in the middle of a mess that was entirely her own making. Tins lay strewn all over the floor; sardines, baked beans, sausages, tomatoes, forming a sea everywhere she looked. She heard a low chuckle, and looked up. She wasn’t alone in the aisle. Staring at her through amused eyes was a tall muscular man, and he was literally shaking with laughter. Obviously he had been watching every step of the show, right from when she had stretched to retrieve the tin of sausages to when she mistakenly toppled half the contents of the shelf.


So he had been watching all this while, and he didn’t even offer to help her get the tin ehn, with his height and muscles and all. She turned her back to him and set her mind to picking the cans off the aisle floor before an attendant came by and worsened her embarrassment. Suddenly, without any warning, there he was by her side bending down to help her pick the cans.

“I’m sorry about that, and for laughing,” he added as an afterthought. “I should have helped you get that can.”

His voice was deep and warm and soft at the same time. And somehow he had read her mind. It was suddenly hard to be angry with him.

“It’s alright,” she replied. And please shift! You’re standing too close.

At that moment an attendant walked up. “What happened here?”

“The tins were probably not stacked properly, and so they fell,” said the man. The attendant said nothing, just got down and started stacking the tins with amazing speed.

She looked up at the man. He was still smiling that yeye smile.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to, Mr…?”

He just kept smiling. Ah! Go jor!

She turned away, collected a can of sausages from the attendant, and pushed away with her trolley. As she walked away, she could feel his eyes on her, and she almost swore she heard a low laugh. Feeling embarrassed and glad she couldn’t blush red, Rebecca put all thoughts of the bearded man from her mind.



He was still thinking of her.

This is crazy, he told himself. I’m supposed to be anti-females right now, not falling for the next one I see. But his mind mocked him. In his head, he could still see her smile, and hear her voice when she laughed and told him that she was allergic to bole. He smiled. But really, how can someone be allergic to bole???

Tony walked down the empty streets of his estate. The compounds on both sides of the road were quiet; the residents probably off to bed at the hour. He wondered if his uncle was awake. He certainly hoped not. The man’s complaint about Tony’s late nights was sure to wreck his happy mood, it would be best to avoid the grouch. He scuffed his sneakers against the tarred road and thought about his day.


They had fun sha. He was funny, this guy. Ajebo yes, but funny too. Who would have guessed? He was cute too sha, or God knows, she wouldn’t have answered him. And his eyes though, there was just something about them. After the movie, they had literally walked out hand in hand, laughing each step of the way like a mad pair of secondary school students. Tony had offered to buy her a drink, and of course, why would she refuse, so they made their way to Taco’s; an eatery on the second floor. Two ice-creams and half a cheese burger later (calories be damned!), and Sharon felt like she was talking to an old friend. He was so easy to talk to.

“My friends call me Shae, you should too.” That was what she told him.

She had noticed him right from the beginning of the movie. Usually, she hated when peoples phones suddenly rang beside her during a movie, but the strains of Dustbowl dance by Mumford and sons were hard to mistake. Mumford and sons as a ringtone?! Who is this guy? And that was when she first looked at him while pretending to look around.

“So what do you do Tony?”

“I just graduated as an engineer, going serving in about two months.”

“Awww..why now? I just met you.”

He had smiled one of his shy smiles then.

Sharon grinned at the memory as she kicked off her shoes. Tossing off her clothes quickly, she stepped into the bathroom. The cold shower jets stabbed her body, causing her to gasp in shock. The water coursed down her skin, soothing her; streaming down her body, tracing her curves and seeking every crevice. Then she thought of him again.

His fingers were so cool. The way he held her arm after that guy hit her by mistake, very calmly, and yet she could feel the strength in them. The guy apologized and scampered away, then he released her, but his cool touch lingered. She could feel it now even. She wondered what he could do with those fingers.

Sharon giggled.


They exchanged numbers, and pins, before saying goodnight. She took a private cab home, and he jumped into a taxi. She’ll probably be home now. A car turned into the streets, the headlights illuminating Tony for a second, before it sped past him. He could see his house already, the security lights were on and so also, the sitting room lights. Uncle was probably awake.

Tony groaned.

To be continued, next week…

Dustbowl Dance – Mumford and sons

The young man stands on the edge of his porch
the days were short, and the Father was gone,
there was no one in the town and no one in the field
this dusty barren land had given all it could give

I’ve been kicked off my land at the age of sixteen
and I have no idea where else my heart could have been,
I placed all my trust at the foot of this hill,
and now I’m sure my heart could never be still

So collect your courage and collect your horse,
and pray you never feel the same kind of remorse

Seal my heart and break my pride
I’ve nowhere to stand, and now, nowhere to hide
Align my heart, my body, my mind,
to face what I’ve done, and do my time

You’re my accuser, now look in my face,
your oppression reeks of your greed and disgrace
So one man has, and another has not
how can you love what it is you have got,
when you took it all from the weak hands of the poor,
Liars and thieves, you know not what is in store
There would come a time I would look in your eye,
you would pray to the god that you’ve always denied

I’ll go out back, and I’ll get my gun
I’ll say, you haven’t met me, I am the only Son

Yes sir, yes sir, yes it was me,
I know what I’ve done, ’cause I know what I’ve seen,
I went out back and I got my gun,
I said you haven’t met me, I’m the only son.


  • No towncriers or bells were involved in the writing of this post.
  • I have still not seen The Avengers.. 😐
  • I actually know someone whose first taste of bole was last month.
  • Dustbowl dance is not my favorite song.

ff on twitter @janus_aneni


P.S: Click the follow button on the blog, thank you. And yeah, I know half of y’all skipped the song..well, you missed the MTN recharge card hidden there.

I wonder how long it would take…


The Side Chick

There I was, five seconds later, sweat pouring from every pore in my body like I had just separated Holyfield from Tyson’s teeth. I looked down at her, smiling with her eyes closed, chest heaving as she gasped for breath, her heart pounding wildly against  my chest. I smoothened her hair back, and gazed into her eyes. Then I opened my mouth, and…said the wrong name.


<now playing> All the right moves – One Republic

This piece is probably going to annoy a couple of people, especially the ‘main chicks’, and I apologise for that. But, I enjoy annoying, it is what I do..

Oh yeah…


First off, I want to apologise to those of us who waited for the next episode of Tangles last Monday, I am uber-sorry that didn’t come out. I travelled to a place on the outskirts of nowhere and with the worst network known to half of mankind, including Somalia. Tangles would be back on Monday, same time, no delays, and a gift for the first person to subscribe.

On my Scout’s honour..*sic*

Anyways, today we wanna talk about the side chick. Everybody’s been talking about it, but what exactly does it mean? Oh, @naijamd wants to help out, yes?

“A side cheek is when someone slaps you on one side, then you turn the side cheek for the person to…”


Side chicks basically, rank more than the Friend with Benefits but less than girlfriend. The place of the side chick lies heavily in that grey area between FWb and Girlfriend, but unlike the FWB which is consensual, the Side chick hardly ever knows what she is, until just before she is dumped. So in a bid to do my civic duty, I have decided to help all side chicks I know to come to the realization of the knowledge that they are side chicks! You see, I have a dream, that one day, all side chicks would come to full knowledge of their place within the great scheme of relationships. Because, we are all born with certain and undeniable rights, and among them is the right to know if we have been put into the side-chick zone. And we would exercise our rights!! Somebody say, Yes we can! Lemme hear you…*crickets*


I have done this before…



I have rambled for long enough, time to be serious about the post. After all, it’s all about the  sidechicks today…

The side chick

*opens bale* Nna, inside dis bale I get many ogbonge (ogbonge<——do people still say this?) pointers for you in case you are worried maka ya boyfriend may be cheating on you with another honey.

First off, When you don’t know his house

Whenever you guys hang out, he either comes over or you meet at a club, bar, eatery or supermarket. In your mind, he’s a nice guy always ready to come over whenever you want him, OYO! While you’re kidding yourself that your relationship is mainly online and you don’t need to know his house, your sense is dancing etighi inside the SC zone. Truth is, the risk of having to explain a strange hairnet under his pillow is too great, and it is good to avoid stories that caress the soul.

 As an aside, the number 1 rule for keeping a side chick, especially a Bini one is; ‘Never let her know where you live’ never! Never ever, ever! If you had to choose between lettiing her know your house and dying, die! Die! Do not let her know your grave either. Ehen..*blows groundnut*

Secondly, the Celebrations

If he invited everybody he knows for his grandfather’s 80th birthday and he didn’t invite you, without doubt, the SC zone is staring you in the face. Side chicks never get invited for celebrations. He does not want you to meet with the main chick and start raising questions, uhn uhn..If you even see him on his birthday or on Valentines day, give beta offering! Quite alright, he’ll spend the day before or the day after with you, and on Vals day you’ll get a gift, but that Birthday or Valentine loving, he’ll be getting that from the source! (˘̯˘ )

And then, there’s Family

When his family has never heard of you, chances are, you’re a side chick. So, maybe you’ve met a couple of his friends and his mother’s cousin’s nephew, they probably know you’re the side chick, and chances are, each one is waiting for when you would get dumped so they can help in ‘consoling’.

I have helped in consoling before. (¬_¬)

In the event you have never met a single friend…0_O

Somebody would say, why is it that guys, with everything going for them, still risk their relationships with side chicks? The answer is simple; for the risk! When in a relationship, any guy would get bored after a while, and he needs to prove to himself that he can still get any chick he wants, if he feels like. And well, more commonly, there’s the issue of sex; maybe his main chick is not doing it right or…she doesnt give head.(P.S: have I mentioned that, a man would do anything for a good head?)

But I think the most important reason is because, no guy wants to feel like he’s missing out! Which brings me to a very important issue: How to upgrade from SC to MC. What? You think it’s weird? nah.. (Did you see what I did there? You didn’t get it?? It wasn’t that good? Oh..Okay *sigh*)


I am probably going to get ‘dis-boyfriended’ over this.

It is simple. As a side chick, or SC, you already have an upper hand. You are those things his girlfriend is not, and probably would never be. The plan is this: Tweak up your loving rate just a notch, then evoke some kind of beef, just enough for him to rrealise just how indispensable you are, and baam! His relationship is over, and you are crowned the new MC. It’s a Weird scheme (I couldn’t resist na!) but it works.

You can hate me now.


I only speak Ghost! 😛

After all, rather than be the MC, it’s better to be tha MSC (Main Side Chick) Neat-o huh? You saw that shey? shey? No..?

(˘̯˘ )/`

I’m done.


  • I have nothing against Weird MC or any other MC with or without an MSc or whatever
  • I really do speak Ghost
  • I do not have a side-chick
  • I will probably never be a rapper

P.S: Just wanna say, I’ll miss my bro @naijamd who is travelling to a little known, extremely cold, slightly deserted part of Europe for I don’t know how long. Godspeed and may your balls (he plays tennis) not freeze off. #Nohomo. Also, a big shoutout to my sweetheart @Obee_007 who is celebrating her birthday today. GOD’s blessings and all the jazz! Add these people on twitter, show them some love. They need it, especially @naijamd.*sic*

Nuff PSs..and yeah, leave comments.

follow me on twitter @janus_aneni