Friday, 23 August 2013

RIM"(Rap is Madness)

After dropping the smash hit "OLD MAN"which features Africa's Vocalist JaniMilez, the rap crooner "DOOLEX" is back again with another tight rap hit titled "RIM"(Rap is Madness) prod by Oddy Jay. Ha ha we all wondered what this song is all about until we heard it. It's so HOT!!! You'll love it.No games no gimmicks.
Download,Listen,share and leave comments

You could also get in touch with the rapper on:
Twitter: @therealdoolex
Facebook :
 by Raybak



Motley crue

*…just one more night

And I’m coming off this

Long and winding road

I’m on my way

I’m on my way

Home sweet home

Tonight, tonight

I’m on my way

I’m on my way

Home sweet home

You know that I’ve seen

Too many romantic dreams

Up in lights, falling off the silver screen

My heart’s likes an open book

For the whole world to read

Sometimes nothing keeps me together in the seams

I’m on my way….

The track has been playing untiringly on repeat since last night and sturdily across the long and unkindly cold darkness. Into a tequila sunrise, John had just woken up so he hauls his right hand gently from underneath Ade’s body, scrubs the ray of sunlight off his oily face, peeps through a thin sight from his glued eyes; its another morning so behold rise up, shine and give God the glory but his laziness would rather satisfy the latter. He’s is in possession of only an impaired memory, he can only puzzle out quite a little but cogent thought of the night before. A feeling of wanting to mop, soap, and immerse himself then one more random thought; he knows there couldn’t have been a purpose. He clocks an unusual white paper and a pen left over it, when there’s a white paper its usually in company of vegetables so it catches his full attention that it brightens his sight out of blur, braces his spirit and summons willingness, he quickly picks it, as he starts reading the song faints slowly to the world and soaks him through the timber, drowning him in the ink as it cross over one another…”how did we wind up here, in this dreaded city of despair, an enemy of our breed whose sole goal is slaughtering our kind over and over. Let’s just call this a memoir or so, formalities bore me to death or at least it ought to, since I haven’t been ruthless enough to for once wait on my slayer so I say lets cross that bridge when we never really get to it. At a young age I was at a place where; we’d sit in and watch over the edge and over again sunlight sets flash of red, I thought my parent had it all figured out well they did pretend to do, even had answers to questions, questions they had no idea of. God help us, I was bound to grow out of that confine much earlier than required , stuffed in my mind grew bigger than my body, my shoulder, taller than my head so with my hands I picked my legs and ran, when I ran I ran fast and far enough, waif-obsessed, I brought my heart with me. I was inevitably bound to leave anyway like everyone of my breed legend has it our hearts are sworn never to return to the bed of aurora once it had left. I came out here to fight the good fight, my head in one hand and my heart in another, my talent on my neck and my dreams at my foot so I tread softly, I came out here full of hopes and dreams at the time success seemed certain and failure; the one wasted here farting in his sleep wasn’t question. If truth be told he has and he’d have more potentials than myself in ten lifetimes each after another yet here we both are, we all are, lost in the fight, our lives is a lost battle yet we relentlessly fight our way into every fight to simply fight for as long as our souls propel liquid so my condition isn’t so bad, that’s the way of the roads. By sheer chance in most unguarded of treading, arrogance and ill-fortune; I was too arrogant to take a step behind the William Butler Yeats and spread my dreams, my only wealth, beneath your feet just so you could tread carefully; carefully or otherwise I refuse to be broke or rather broker for any of you but I sure will spread my nightmares beneath your feet so you can match carefully or otherwise. I’ve drifted too far off the highway, off course even far away from the woods held half way from the land and sky in this winding road; a victim per avion but yet I say leave this survivor, his head in one hand and his heart in another, his heart may yet find its place and he may yet conquer well lest you don’t push him off the cliff he’s already standing on. Forced to unwilling content in undying darkness that bullies dawn beneath dusk, like every other day I spend on these roads in the willed shackles of narrow existence I lift my shoulder above my head this time but the city knocks it down again just like it’d constantly done with my head before I could peep into the forthcoming and maybe do the world a favour and kill myself before the future gets here and I’m the nuisance and victim I’m born and hired to be. Holler to runz gurls who keep it real and blank there shattered minds on religion and their teaching, I know, I know the least you have risen from within though your breakthrough is evidently less than the city offers its elite but pick up your shoes, tie them more than hard every night and day when  you leave for game and keep in mind their shoes are bigger and they step on and through larger and silver-laced-fortuned pedestal into certain greatness but you still tie your shoes the same manner you only need tie yours harder, and more firmly because yours are little and barely thrive through and in unbecomingly ill-fortuned pedestal which is if there is at all one, having regard to your high heels anyway which may fall into the city’s mudbank and they’d laugh you off their wicked faces beneath their feet, nonetheless; at most match them and now conceive how hard you’d have to tie your hearts to get ahead. Whatever and whichever way anyone chose do a thing to survive isn’t the right way only the successful tag the routes behind them and ahead of you. Holler to runz boys, game boys, skool 2 boys and what not, to those who have set an enviable standard for us, victimised and sodomised, to those of you who revere and respect these standards to the last breathe. Never shed a tear, never take revenge,  kill or take more, never impress; become better, never appreciate fun never submit to excitement. Taking is no sin; we live in a communist end of a capitalist world, they live of our sweats and drain us not just of blood but sweats. Give options and choices. Bishop would bid another against his will to raise his hands above his head while his scared ubiquitous eyes reflect against a twin sharpened-out-of-blunt-ends bottles then thrust and dig holes in the fertility if his armpit and watch him cry, groan till he sleeps, he would pluck a niggas life through his eyes . Yesterday, bishop drew a niggas face into a garri, luger rather while a whole bunch of brothers pinned his body to a stone, made them leave his mouth wide open so he could scream and beg with his throat then waited till he had screamed his life out and had stopped struggling he made them free him bishop blinked twice, smiled then shot his head against a bullet doom! He grew sober, wept a teardrop on his fore head after which he thought to respect the body and cleaned the tear of with 8 more bullets. He always gives them a choice, he’d ask them to promise to visit him in his sleep and tell him what its like on the other side and he’ll make there death easy and fast, he is as ruthless, a huger legend on these roads and myself, I’m like a Spanish fly to these girls. People around here so cold, my heart done gone froze yet if every place be like these roads no one would be unwanted this is the way of the roads I’m sober-tired and wound in, un I lights I’d give anything to come of this winding road but even if I could my heart wont come with me home. Regardless of all we are young, mistakes are our companion but isn’t that why there are parents to guard us but the biggest mistakes of all is to despise them, well we are most aware of this fact yet regard us as eternal sojourners on a road to self sabotage, self destruction, and most unguarded. On these roads the ‘surviver is indeed the fittest more like” an airbag is a parashoot’ alright you are permitted to look down on the language but not the speaker they might indeed make a parashoot” of your airbag, when you feel cold iron against your hostile skin in even the lightest of days, when it’d burst-loud and gust out and open your huge belly, all nylon melt in and lenses waft out of those shiny toys you ride around in. To the city we are nothing but a bunch of out of context dangerous waifs but the city itself is treacherously homeless. Like every other, highly exhorted and revered, these roads has its coy end, there is uncontrollable addiction towards violence and we are all sick, severally, sentenced looking unto inevitable darkness and death on a particular day what would your flexible thinker carry as companion if you knew yours unconscious of any other road apart from this. We do know what this excruciating feeling is its effect on our mindful conception or misconception are the behaviours you flag criminal because you are keenly handicapped of its effect on our reasoning so you shy off so be careful when you point loaded fingers at us when our frozen hearts, symptoms of coldness burn out when you cast fire to them……

A knock at the door isn’t enough to steal him off the page but the knock increases into a continual banging on the rather fragile door so he is at last stolen away but manages to catch the last line; “my soul is locked in shadows my heart is locked in as well, smoked out”. Ade’s long and pleasant sleep had been cut short too. John emerges from outside through the door with a bare and flat chest with a humble boxer pant rapped from just above his waist down a lot below his knees, the gravely unacceptable sight reduces  Ade into delight he probably believes he is still in the dream world because he had projected a colourful morning so something as dark as this can’t exactly be regarded as colourful so he purposely  illudes himself into the former , but suddenly he grasps that John’s black and bare body had infringed his view of all the colours in the room, he makes a long hiss, turns his hip with his left arm so he could face the wall then seals his eyes with the other, john yells! That babe is here! Ade immediately opens his eye lids and throws his eyes back against his skull and forth, what babe? Well I hope she deserves whatever you’ve told her because she’s out there smiling, Ade is still trying to haul himself out of sleep “I mean she was really smiling and it almost felt unpleasant for a moment there I thought I grew sexy overnight, anyway I snapped out of that thought already but it did make me feel good…so? He shows him to the door, Ade had started wondering which one it could be, but being too proud to ask he just assumes “it’s definitely her, but why on earth would she show this early” then he recalls she’d stolen his wallet the last time she came over and when he asked she said because “you left it in your pants” how genuine a motive, he discusses that with john but quietly and discreetly. Ade by now is readily furious so he hurries in the direction of the egress, well the ingress too but that’s how confused he his…where is it! Where is that feral …so that’s it, he’d just keep the “bitch” for himself as she disappointedly turns out to be the she from the drama earlier, and yes it’s a goodbye already my curiosity wonders as much as yours too but it appears the supposed discreet chat wasn’t discreet enough and had found its way to her ears, both of them. Now Ade makes honest use of the ingress to a joint on john’s lips fastened by sparks, turns out our john isn’t a john after all he snatches it while sobriety snatches him and throws him against the floor across john who had started molling another blunt the song immerses them in as they both puff some in undying silence until john breaks the silence; what sup with her? She’ll be back, they all do…eventually. Of course! So….do I really fart in my sleep? Ade nods and puffs full this time, no I don’t. “Well” this time he reasons john won’t take just a nod for an answer, why don’t you stay awake and figure that out yourself plus it does undermine the snoring though. They both resign to another long hush while…

Home sweet home

Tonight, tonight

I’m on my way

Just set me free…………………..

by Wole

Thursday, 22 August 2013






























By Tinu H.K

A photo of young Wole Soyinka as a Musician

I was totally amazed when i came accross this online.
was he really a musician? wow.

Wednesday, 21 August 2013

Week 1 Team of the week.

Like a father who has been away from the house, being welcomed by his kids and wife, bringing enough presents for them, some of the kids will like it, while some wouldn't. We all welcome the arrival of the English Premier League, its superstar Players and its super Goals.

We present the best players of the premier league Day 1

 Simon Mignolet:

This is a tough pick, but Mignolet won the race over Asmir Begovic of Stoke City and Allan McGregor of Hull City. Like McGregor, he saved a penalty and Begovic might have made more saves, but unlike the two, he ended in a winning a team and made two spectacular saves - a nice dive to his right to save Jonathan Walters' penalty and a terrific response to stop Kenwright Jones follow-up - to give his side an important and morale boosting 3 points and preserve his clean sheet

Seamus Coleman

One of only two players to score a goal and assist another throughout the league, the other being Steven Whitaker. He beat Whitaker to the spot because he made more contribution attacking and defending well over the line. Also his goal was not because of luck, unlike Whitaker, providing the assist for Ross Barkley and arriving late but at the right time in the 6-yard box to fire home the Toffee's second


Patrice Evra
Pick him over Anthony Luna because of the way he responded to the rumor surrounding Man Utd bid for Leighton Baines. With his performance, it begs the question of 'why fix it if its not broken? Arguably one of his team most consistent players last season and was involved in everything positive in their dismissal of Swansea.

 Kolo Toure
Replacing the retiring Jamie Carragher with a 32 year old player who was 3rd in the pecking order at Man City seems a bad move, but on Saturday, the veteran unlike his partner Daniel Agger looked assured and read the game well while hitting the cross-bar with a powerful header

Nemanja Vidic

The Serbian rock is back after a stop and start 2012/2013 season and showed why he was missed during his knee injury ravaged season. He did well against the speed and physicality of Wilfred Bony and the technicality of Michu.

The 1-0 win over Crystal Palace was a nice game for Spurs to introduce their latest import from Brazil to competitive football. A vibrant and energetic display from the £17m signing. Controlled his midfield with his tenacity and impressive when driving forward towards Palace penalty area.

What a game to have your debut, a 4-0 demolition of Newcastle with the £30m summer acquisition whose central midfield partnership with Yaya Toure was looking hugely promising

 Frank Lampard
Don't know how he keeps changing his game to adapt to the demands of new coaches. I think his mental strenght is one of the reasons. He showed this when he recovered well from a penalty miss early in the game to have a fantastic match capped with a 35-yard Ronaldo-esque free-kick


Daniel Sturridge
Another Liverpudlian in the team. Danny secured the victory with a fine first-half strike from outside the penalty area. The 23year old was lively throughout, linking well with fellow attackers Phillipe Coutinho and Iaogo Aspas in the absence of suspended/want-away talisman Luis Suarez.

Robin van Persie
Robin van der goal is back and he does not look like someone who has any intention of letting his standard drop just because of Sir Alex Ferguson departure.

We saw it last season and he have started doing it again this season. Agbonlahor is a BEAST with speed (powerful and fast). He had an exemplary game creating the first and second goal. Arsenal simply couldn't provide ann answer to his direct running and electric pace.

Special shoutout to some players who missed the selection: Oscar, Huddlestone, Luna, Whitaker, Welbeck.

So there is it. You can post your comment to criticize or applaud the selection or top pick your own team of the week

3D Minds; Meet the DANCING DOCTOR.

This clip is titled: 3D Minds. This is another one from many of his exclusive dance clips. Yusuf Deji whose stage name is Dr Hombreezle one of the best dancers in the Kwara State .He is a medical doctor, who graduated from Unilorin. Follow him on twitter via his handle @hombreezle. Look out for more of this from him.
Download Link:

Friday, 16 August 2013


 Law & Fashion

The growth of the Nigerian Fashion Industry prompt the distinct recognition of Apparel Law which has consequentially led to a need for the law to provide guidance on the myriad legal issues faced by designers and other interacting forces in the fashion world. Fashion law as defined by Sally Kane is the aspect of law that encompasses legal issues surrounding the life of a garment right from conception to brand protection. Fashion law applies generally to apparels, foot wears, accessories, etc. and it cover legal areas bordering on Copy Right, Trademark, Service marks, Utility patents, Design patents, Counterfeiting, Trade Secrets, licensing agreement, advertising and publicity, etc. at every development stage of the Fashion business, the law plays a very important role, the recent case between Christian Louboutin and YSL over Louboutin’s red soled signature shoe and fevershoes’ alledged intellectual property infringement by Ruggedman’s Twentieth September wear (TSW) is a good example of likely issues that may arise in the fashion business. According to the post by Nigeria Entertainment several months back  tagged “rugged man stole shoe designs”, “I did not”, rapper insists, Ruggedman TSW shoes were alleged by Natischa Harvey to have copied Harvey’s 2010 collection called “Fevershoes” to which Ruggedman replied ‘they were customised for me; I’ve being working with someone outside Nigeria. Those designs are from somewhere else. I’m allowed to customise with my name’. The question is what does Ruggedman mean by “customize with my name” and is the word known to Nigeria Law? That’s a discussion in the next edition of this piece.

            The reality is that, most issues in the fashion and design world revolve around registration of designs, protection of exceptional, conceptual designs and the overlapping proprietary interest of the parties involved in making a design into its equivalent physical style expression. In Nigeria for example, designers often procure the services of support staffs who are experts in various stages of clothing. The garments which may be made locally or imported are acquired by the fashion designer or its affiliate while the main production and sewing is usually done by the support staffs of the designer, some of this staffs specialise in design drawing and others in sewing. So it may be right to say that the Fashion Designer may have a design in his mind, and then he gets a design artist to make a sketched copy of his brainchild that started has an idea and finally the sketched design is then sealed by another employee. This process shows that a lot of hands are involved in the cloth making process which raises the question of ownership of the design and the cloth made eventually.

            Most times, the Fashion Designer may have idea but the law only protects the fixation of such ideas (that is, ideas put in tangible form). This means that the proprietary interest in a work vest in the author who physically created the work during the course of his employment. This definitely does not preclude the employee from waiving such proprietary rights through an express written agreement evincing that all intellectual property rights in his work should vest in his employer as author of such work. This is in line with Section 10(2) of Copyright Act which provides that “…where a work not having been so commissioned, is made in the course of an author’s employment, the copyright shall be belong in the first instance to the author, unless otherwise stipulated in writing under contract”

In conclusion, our laws, like most international laws only protect newness and originality of works, therefore for a design or fashion to be protected by the Law, its features must be of exceptional quality. Our courts have held severally that copyright will exist in a given product if the product is the result of some substantial or real expenditure of mental or physical energies of the producer and the labour or skill was not a negligible or commonplace one. But what happens when a person in the words of Ruggedman, “customize with his name” another author’s work? As said earlier, this will be discussion for another piece but it is most issues relating to lawful “customization” borders on fair dealing (also known as fair use in the United States)

            The practical tips of avoiding copyright liability, while there is no definitive test for determining whether your use of another’s copyrighted work is a fair use, there are several things you can do to minimize your risk of copy right liability;

I.                    Use only as much of the copyrighted work as is necessary to accomplish our purpose or convey your message.

II.                  Use the work in such a way that it is clear that your purpose is commentary, news reporting, or criticism.

III.                By adding something new or beneficial (don’t just copy it – make improvement on it).

IV.                If your source is nonfiction, limit your copying to the facts and data

V.                  Seek out creative commons or other freely licensed works when such substitutions can be made and respect the attribution requests in those works.           

Digit - +2348032096205


Behind those opening walls and closed gates.
Lived a rebel on the run with a floating tale.
Of true akkadian roots to break a grievious branch.
This waterfalls never let our tears stand a chance.

The mind of a roman and the turso of a spartan.
Filled his bellies with gold without the consent of our gamblers.
A true native of no real nativity.
Invade our mental castle to reinstate all intellectual dignitaries.

Hidden far deep in the mesopotamia creeks.
This rebel shrieks as the pebble squeals.
Dont blame the gods for your hard chew.
They sent the rain,but you buried the bad fruit.

Destiny is treachrous to its own beholder.
Always a new day as the skin gets older.
I deviate not from this tale not because of its nature of apparent fantasy.
The rebel is you,babylon is your flesh,eaten in canker deep.

Written and edited by,
Abidemi oyewole en-classique.
Copyright protection upheld.

posted by Oladapo Olayemi

Swagged Out Demeanor (Viral Video)

After a long interval since the release of SCATTER (Ft. Ajebutter22), CJ is back with a new viral video to a track off his "Demeanor of A College Kid" mixtape. SWAGGED OUT DEMEANOR is a rap song with a nice combination of storytelling & "swag bars" . The track is produced by UK based artiste/producer Chillz and is a little warm up for SCATTER video, which is set to drop sometime in the coming months. The mixtape drops under his movement/label PLAYAZ CONNECT ENTERTAINMENT (P.C.E) and BORN KINGS management. Sawlead Ent are the executive producers of Demeanor Of A College Kid & are responsible for majority of the production on the mixtape... Look out for that!!!

Normal quality:

Follow: @Cj_of_PCE @PlayazConnect @BornKings_


…As Ade quickens hastily into a gradual blur John takes after him in a sprint chase but his pants run even backwards, they are embarrassingly and unusually big in this age when immorality is order and righteousness has willingly hunted, exiled, and locked itself away to wroth in the woods of clogged memory; at a time of tight fitted pants. They manage to defeat his will over and over as his tired and helpless legs struggle. Ade, who is now very far ahead is jinxed with yet his own share of the unfortunate stretch of existence in street cred, an unwanted sight for apathetic eyes, yet  right in front of them stands an energetic Tade, they exchange a short chant then go on to exchange a few more random words but for somewhat longer than it ordinarily in reasonable sense ought to take words like; “brother howfar<>lowkey bruh, howfar you every?<>lowkey things<>baba lowoyi na you sure<>if I hear, I swear nah you<>shey you say make your boy run hook something?<>omo tiny joint self go do me…” I’ll just leave the rest of the conversation to your experience-motivated imagination. Doomed generation! Right? Maybe pupcie was at least right about this one thing, this goes on in Ade’s mind while he reluctantly plants the seeds of doominess together with Tade.  John who by now had been chasing-mute for quite long over a relatively short distance, currently puffed and panting wishing he is pantless bumps into the two from behind, grabs Ade on the right by his shoulder a grab near the hip or so would attract unnecessary attention alright? No, not here it won't , like “I gat you” he throws his head to Ade’s company and this single being sends his spirit to heaven and back half way…”oh! fuck” conscious enough to make sure that was meant for Ade’s ears alone while Tade could hardly hear less than a thing of the F word from his right ear on john’s end so he tosses his head to his extreme right just behind john’s left like his left ear would have heard better he utters “you said?” “I said brother wassup” “oh!” now relaxed “I’m not your brother john how many times can a man possibly be born?” Ade, why does he have to say that every single time?” Ade opens his palms wide like the answer is written on them for him to see, john looks into the palms in boundless expectation only to find no answer to his mystery, his disappointed eyes it yet again directed towards Ade’s face whose sealed lips had enlasted to as far as his chicks while John stared at his palms “I don’t know partner, your name’s john! I mean its not like you exactly belong around here” the dreaded john obviously carrying a ringingly thrilled face watches as the two shake a loud laughter of their hands but in Ade’s opinion he’d saved the day I mean he did gat him. He cleverly steps aside while he graciously allows john a taste of excitement; Tade is as stubborn as john’s disturbed state reflects a legend on these roads, so he happily takes john on yet another long and fresh chanting interview perfectly similar to the earlier one between himself and Ade. This goes on as Ade smiles with his heart wild open this excitement lasts for a short while before a huge pack of fellow runz boys genuinely pries his heart open they all take turns, smack and shake hands in a distinct and seemingly wicked manner, it even seems as though they are hurting one another the loud and rhythmless chants, barking most appropriately continues, Ade excuses himself, takes a few steps enough to stay clear of the horde, for a while there he takes a sober ablution john discharges himself too as they both attempt to cleverly flea the scene Ade turns around and bumps into a, believe me, gorgeous…ok enough of the day dream-chasing and ceiling-counting; splendour  normally a heavy slap or two would gesture the beauty off her face for bumping into Ade but she isn’t at all terrified and he doesn’t appear nearly offended so there is a parley stand down. Ade isn’t all that bad I mean just a few of the babes around crush on him secretly, 'churchies' included, the rest; openly of course. They both say less than no word though there is sincere apologies clearly written  on them he collects her phone from the sands it had fallen into without missing any expected expression on her face just as if he never bent for the phone. His heart pounds heavily while his mind raises, but out of unusual coyness  he rescues himself from her eyes and walks past her in full regret and relief at the same time, ”hey!” she suddenly calls on him, Ade turns around almost at once in full exhilaration but into a disappointment she stretches out and hands him his wallet, the one she picked while he picked her phone once again they are both arrested and this time it appears there isn’t a way out  john had continued his swaggering display into a distance where he waits just ahead like he’d been challenged to while Ade sets some P which actually is 'setting an escape Plan', he gently hops and hurdles up and down in a restricted horizon. By now Ade had successfully murmured a few fragrant words out he continues with“...I must confess you are incredibly, smokingly gorgeous, almost too beautiful you almost ugly, too charming I believed I needed an escape from your sight well I’m still planning one though…and your smile, so captivating that it seems scary, you’ll know, I’m scared right now right? I almost don’t know what……."I’ll just leave the rest of the clowning to your imagination. It was as though they had stepped into each other’s shadows, the world stands still, quiet, though some may be sitting but that doesn’t count the moment lingers and endures while they maintain this tasking gaze, lost in one another, even I can see them from every viewpoints as the wind takes me on a circumvolution of them, it almost seems like the heavens have come here and expunged all the devils below leaving these two behind. As Ade spills those words gently she quietly reaches for her jeans with her right hand she wouldn’t want to distract him away from the excellent job he seems to be doing, digs straight into her right front pocket while the other hand is cast to her back pocket, as if she involuntarily left those hands in a gaol the rest of her body lifts to heights though her legs are still sealed to the same spot, in Ade’s shadow, I think that sounds even better; eyes permanently motionless, Ade continues his incantations while she stands there lost in disbelief, astonishment, willingness and in a pleasant recklessness, he could almost capture every little smile though his cred bank and of course imaginary wank bank is filled with the huge ones already. By now the barking pack, I mean the guys, gradually, their loud chants faint into the thin air as they sell their concentration to these two at no fee, Ade’s excellence too unfortunately fades into a sudden relapse, she could now notice an obviously captivated array of spectators so out of her long mum, with her tongue she greases from within and pushes her lips to detach, Ade lowers into an even more self-assured relaxation, prepared to make a “yes” response  to whatever that is uttered  from these angelic lips while waiting he is sure she might take forever  so he starts thinking  of a lot more lines…”I wasn’t smiling!”, yes! Ade had responded before he could hear what she had said or think and now that he has the true words, bitter isn’t it? He replies with confusion written all over him “oh... really?” she nods, the disapproval on her face at this moment seems even greater than the one she wore when she uttered her first and only words, he manages  to stutter a few more words before he's finally knocked out “I I thought I’d, I mean I could’ve bet I clocked your sealed lips move back there…but its all good I guess you can't win it all that’s what they say right?” she almost gives up her pretence for another solemn smile but she holds very firm with her mind but since she can't do the same to her voice and words she’d rather keep mute. A rumble had begun in Ade’s mind, mightier than that in his stomach but nothing compared to the mutiny in his head, a lady’s muteness can of course cause a lot than said. He wouldn’t want to aggravate the embarrassment he’s to retire into so he manages to hold his breathe and barely gestures with his face meaning “I’ll…I'll just go” he turns around while she still stands , apparently the devils are back and perhaps their own shadows they stood in left with the heavens, he flings his head downwards, dejected  he fixes his eyes to his wet feet visible from under his heavy timbs so he can quickly think of a lie or two to save himself and to immaculate her conception in the fatherhood of his own self and give the expectant hears of john and, of course the rest a cool name at least since he didn't get one. Ade is so good that to john but the rest even beneath his perfect pretence he could find his own share of the disappointment as Ade struggles in futile containment of his humiliation and regret. He genuinely puffs empty, holds blank,  thrusts wide, and fades in………suddenly, he catches a quiet, tender, healing, and angelic voice “wait!” Ade’s personal saviour calls from heaaven unto him who hath wroth of the torment of the mere darkness of hell’s gate. He turns at once into his own salvation……..but sudden darkness is cast at my sight…………………………………………………………………………………………………………….. :)

by wole

Tuesday, 6 August 2013


The gloves are off, claws out teeth bared, swords drawn knives at the ready-the transfer window is getting nasty
 For the first time it's become really personal as premier league clubs scrap amongst themselves for the diminishing pool of top-class football talent
    Bar the odd transfer, top flight clubs usually look elsewhere-overseas and in lower league ofnew players.  The was the famous tapping-up case of Ashley Cole by Jose Mourinho from rival arsenal in his first x spell at chelsea that become a public spat- so can we say it's no coincidence that this summer it's all getting very incentious the summer he can back to england?
     Last week, chelsea were the first to bite when they took the unusual step of releasing a statement having a dig at manchester united when they made an offer for wayne rooney
    They confirmed the offer had been made but added; "although the terms of the offer are confidential, for avoidance of doubt and contrary to what is apparently been briefed to the press in sydney, the proposed purchase does not include the transfer out kidfn of any players from chelsea to manchester united". Damn that was a bad punchline.
    It became clear that united had not, IN FACT briefed anyone on the nature of chelsea's offer for the english striker; but we can assume they started the rumor of an offer of cash + player (David Luiz or Juan Mata two of their best men lady season).
    It is believed that this rumor was started to cause commotion in the ranks of Chelsea FC and to bring their fans against them for the potential arrival of Wayne Rooney (lets face it,WAZA didn't perform as much as any of these guys lady season), and possibly kick against ther transfer.
    Also the very public pursuit by Mourinho, piling-in with jab after jab, telling Rooney he shouldn't play second fiddle manchester united's last season Robin Van-Persie and that his world cup place is under threat shows that the club had departed from the 'discreet' and 'professional' way of conducting player transfer.
   AND Yes, Luis Suarez, this one is even crazier,
   First, it started with the north london club bidding a ridiculously low £30million offer for the want-away player. Liverpool were having non of it. Then they upped their offer and THEN, words got out (presumably from Suarez camp) that the Uruguayan has a clause in his contact that an offer of £40m would trigger what the controversial player's camp believe gives him the right to speak to a club but liverpool claims that they are only entitled to inform him and they are not obligated to sell. In short, Arsenal offered £40,000,001, notice the extra 1 POUND, I didn't too when I first read the news-the cheeky extra ONE POUND I called it.
   Then came the rebuttal from liverpool owner John Henry when he replied through twitter: "what do you think they are smoking over there at emirate". Whatever it is, they bought it from chelsea.
    There is still enough time for more drama to kick off. United are interested in Gareth Bale (oh my! Oh my!!). Arsenal could get involved with Cesc Fabregas' bid(S), they have a fixed-buy-back-tfirst-option in the contract that sent him to Camp Nou and are also interested in Wayne Rooney,   OJUKOKORO I call it.
    This could get messier before the transfer window closes in England-2nd september. Biting, scratching, and even well-aimed punches are all permitted.
   How I wish they employ me-public fight is the disease of we Ibadan people.

By Busari Isa Olalekan

Sunday, 4 August 2013


I don't usually post random stuff like this but THIS Caught my attention. And though I don't know why, but I'm  extra excited about it.
Don Jazzy and D'banj Performing together at Dbanj's sister's wedding. :O..
Most of us thought after the break up of the now defunct Mo'Hits Crew, that would be the end of the relationship, but I find this amazing.
Below are some photos of Dbanj And Don Jazzy Performing together at Dbanj's sister's wedding to Dotun of Cool FM....
Do You think any collaboration or reconciliation is in the offing?
Drop your comments and below too and let's see what you think

Friday, 2 August 2013


Bright and shiny like the first star of the night
Coloured and visible like the sun in the early hours o the day
The sun is up
And the moon is out.
The world is wrong and i want to set it right
I try my best, night and day.
When i wake up,
When i go out,
I try with all my being,
To be at my best....
I know the night
And i know the day
And so i know it will remain the same, as it has always been
I am no one to want to change the world
Night will be night
And day will be day
No matter what my words say or try to say,
i am no one to want to change the world.




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TAKE-OFF DATE - 16th SEPT, 2013.

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Just like any other dream you wind up into, this one, its curtain is drawn against the window burglary of a mild but believe me, wild’ public transport’. In the opposite corner from my view is a rather pale young man most likely in his late teens, headed for the infamous STREET, he seems more dreadful than his looks admit. He surfs with his tiny dancing fingers in an unsequential sequence through and across pages of some stitched papers wickedly joined together against their will in a pitiful manner until he reaches a page, he stops and smiles:

“So you stretched out your arms across
And on all of us
With a smile out on your face
And a tear out in your eyes
Couldn’t seem to gather a lot on your grace”

The world blew the city over us hence we haul below sea level
Calling for your world above, we strive but the muscles
On her arms shifts to our faces
That together we don’t sweat from our eyes
The aged, the street!
Where you look upwards but remain on your ruins
Where you look onwards but your legs stride sideway
Where you travel too many directions at a time
Yet, so far, the city sighs while the street scoffs
The city sobs in the street
We live in a moving camp and off her sentient lamp
“Let the good Lord shine the light
On your dark hours
and dark places”

He had enjoyed late night stories from the lips of his lying uncle of the awful theft profile ever maintained on the street. When Ade had finally highlighted he instantly touches and frisks all his body to his little, embarrassing but relatively precious luggage but something isn’t  right, he has had mad orientation from his uncle’s lying lips so he knows for sure he definitely has been robbed of something or so he expected so as the ruthless face of the conductor collected the door against itself he screamed!...Ade had feared this face for even longer than the journey took, he spent a reasonably larger part of those time with this scary creature in his mind, clenching his wide palm into a massive and fierce fist and placing it gently and with extreme care on his own face at uncoordinated intervals intending to keep himself company through the crawling and uneventful long journey. But now Ade is off the bus so he looks around and gathers just about enough courage he then screams: someone have stolen my leg! He watches the conductor’s face as it is carried away while it melts into laughter.

Has Ade just won his first battle off the street I mean on the very soil of the infamous street itself, deeply and intensely thrilled he gallops into a dark corner unconsciously too excited that he cares lees about his stolen leg and most significantly, of the caveats of his uncle’s lying lips of the hazard of The street, its dark hours, and its bends. He stamps into a showdown, crossfire of a number of wet shadows and soaring shadows unto runz just outside that famous storey building empty and colourless in the day but painted with green, red, yellow lights and calls at night at the tail end of the street beside the ill-famed bunk and opposite a sheltering coat precisely on the square called hopeless and church by its own and faithless by the city, where grains sell at the same damn price. He is caught in grave shock and amazement, terrified, but he slumps into despair and dies into calmness.  A heavy slap jolts him out of his frightful reverie where “them guns have been bursting and felled runz boys” accompanied with a loud but close voice (welcome to the street)! To Ade the dirty slap was nothing ‘the devils are gone; thank God I’m still in purgatory he shouted with his hand wide spread away from one another across the sky. He looks around the dead bodies soak him into yet another calm death, this time dazzling and dangling in a water bed with rather high walls on both sides with flavoured and limitless fragrance of endless frenzied varieties for his famished nostrils and an unpleasant delicacy that embarrassed his starved throats and makes his lips spread wide enough to allow a plate of eba he would have at home pass in through but his arrested subconscious; as the word ‘home’ dashed past it choke veins and spills water on blood. The ray of sunlight this time jolts Ade’s left eye into a rather busy pedestrian as he whipes the sunlight off his face.  Passers by keep whispering into his ears; Welcome to the gutter. Terrified and disturbed, he takes to swerve across and into the highway, Ade; faced down looks up and he’s blessed with a sight for old eyes there is an old friend of his standing just across he beckoned to him Ade is now filled with great relief and joy, as he heads towards him he hears a loud engine approach, an indistinct chatter from a yelling audience. He turns around……into oncoming steel, the scary face of the conductor is carried away again into a distance peeping at Ade’s body as it lay against the road as still and as calm as death itself his blood, darker than the darkest lake. The old friend wasn’t beckoning, he warned!

Gutter: the blank space between facing pages of a book between adjacent columns of types or stamps in a sheet.
Ade pulled his face out of the dusty page….
John: Ade, did you just get drunk in your dream again?
He hurriedly pulls himself off the chair, quickens while his legs blab as he heads away from the library, far enough…………………………………
Welcome to the missals

 To be continued.......