Time Check: 11.30pm
Date: 25-10-2012
Location: My room.
Atmosphere: Dark and Cozy

It’s almost midnight and I am lying in my bed, surfing the web. And I decide to try some photoshopping (?) stunts here with this pix. Arrrghhhh. Don’t tell me how great my skills are, I can see for myself. Lol.

Okay. Forget the photoshopping skills and concentrate more on the message. We tend to make life more complicated than it is. Today was a hectic one for me personally. I had a lot going on at the office. I had thought to deal with the stress, I needed to hang out with friends, get some ice cream, maybe go to the movies later on etc. But all these never materialised for one reason or the other. So I returned home, feeling depressed. When I got home, I decided to go through some literary blogs. And how magical was that experience! I found great pleasure doing that, getting into the minds of others through their writings. In no time, the stress was gone as it was replaced with a certain feeling I can’t describe. The posts I read got me thinking, imagining and asking more questions. I got a sense of satisfaction I never would have imagined back then in the office when the workload was taking its toll on me. And I don’t think spending lavishly as I had envisaged would have relieved me the way going through these blogs did.
Truly, the best things in life are inexpensive and are right under our noses.


Yes. That is DJ Jimmy Jatt and yours faithfully, and you don’t need to tell me am not the hunkier of the duo; I already know where I belong. Apart from Jimmy’s better looks, he appears to be the celebrity in the pix, thanks to his customised face cap, pair of glasses and lovely top.
I had gone to interview Jimmy. Prior to the interview, I had a preconceived idea of Jimmy’s type of person – cool, calm and collected – or the Triple C type, as I put it. I had seen him a number of times on TV, and also from a distance at shows and was left with no iota of doubt that he was that type. But after the interview, was I proved wrong? No. Jimmy stuck to the personality he had sold to me on TV and at shows. All through the interview, he didn’t act any differently. He was the Triple C. The only question I left with in mind was, was he always this way, everywhere?
We all know Jim Iyke to be the “bad boy” of Nollywood. He got this nicky because of the roles he plays in movies. And quite unfortunately, people deem him to be such a fellow even outside a movie scene.
Everyone knows Banky W wears a head-warmer no matter the weather and Jay Martins is the face behind Papa’s Cap Nigeria Ltd; Pete Edochie will forever speak in calm tone and will use more proverbs than Obama; Frank Edoho invented Suits and D’banj will always go naked on stage; Karen Igho doesn’t give a damn what you call her and Linda Ikeji knows you know what she did last summer because she told you and always will.
Every celeb has something he is identified with. It doesn’t matter what it is. It doesn’t matter the message it gives. Even fictitious personas like Superman and Spiderman have their own trademarks.
One question that always pops up in my head is, are these people always this way everywhere they go? Does Banky wear head-warmers to the loo at home? Does Frank Edoho wear suits to bed? Does D’banj do the “kokolet” sign during thanksgiving in church?
Someone once said something funny on twitter. He said Pete Edochie can say “take off your bra” and it would sound like a proverb. But does Uncle Pete use proverbs on his pets at home?
The reality about stardom is that once you get there, you must have an established brand. You can’t ignore this reality. It is either you create a brand of your own or you get lost in the crowd. Most celebrities claim stardom didn’t change anything about them, but we all know blue lies when we hear them.
If you were a celeb, what would be your brand/signature? The way you talk, dress, walk, respond to fans, eat in public, smile… Try to create some attributes and characteristics of Celebrity You and compare it to Ordinary You now. How vast do you think the difference(s) would be? Would you prefer the Celebrity You you have created or the current Ordinary You?


Hi there! It is weekend already and I promised to give away free recharge pins today. Glo wasn’t included because they don’t really ‘trip’ me. MTN barely made it too. I had to appease some readers. I really ’empathise’ with users of that network. So without much ado, here they are:

Airtel: 1883 5671 3515 8756

Etisalat: 6857 3448 8011 704

Mtn: 3562 3664 2105

Don’t forget to follow me on Twitter: @haroldwites and add me on bbm: 2331A0F2. Would really love to meet you. Cheers!


The Man In Black twisted his foot and squeezed at a sheet. He was getting frustrated. No task had ever taken this long to accomplish. He was not going to have any more of it. She must be put away today. He took a look at the sheet of paper in his hand. The rough sketch of a girl was on it, with a red circle around her chest region. Today she must meet with her destiny – the one he had planned for her.
It was a wet Friday evening. Usually, life at the Ibom Tropicana where the Silverbird Cinema was, was always busy on Fridays: the popular theme “thank God it is Friday” always played out. Both those who had been productive during the course of the week and those who were more of a liability to the society bought into the theme. But today was different. The numbers at the Tropicana were less. One could actually count the number of people that were around if one chose to.
The Man In Black noticed this, but he could not have been happier at the way things were. Less people meant less eyes, and less eyes meant higher probability of carrying out the job unnoticed. It was not like he was scared of carrying out a job in public – he had done that on several occasions, but just like every other person in a similar line of business as his, a clearer coast meant a perfect job. And he – The Man In Black, had a thing for perfection.
He stole a glance at his watch. It was almost 5.30 pm, time for the movie he had paid for. He wished he could make the time run faster. He looked at his ticket. The movie, Ice Age 4 was boldly imprinted on it. He couldn’t believe he actually paid for the movie – that movie. Ice Age 4? Seriously? Ice Age 4?
“Gag me,” he muttered. “Moron,” he cursed at the girl on the sheet. She actually informed his decision. He paid for the ticket because that was the movie she was going to see. He went over his plan again. It appeared simple: buy whatever movie ticket she was buying, follow her to the room, sit behind her, and do it without anyone noticing. Simple. The Man in Black tapped his box of tools beside him. All he needed to make the job smooth rested in there.
At that moment, he noticed the girl walking into Room 5.
“Poor thing.”
He pulled out another sheet from his gabardine coat. There was a list of people on it. They all had their names crossed, except the last name – that of the girl. The Man In Black could not believe how much he had achieved in the last month. He had thirteen names on the sheet. He had done twelve in just three weeks, but had been following the thirteenth – the girl – for a week now. She always had a way of escaping his plot. He had followed her almost everywhere – the eateries: Oliver Tweest, Food Affairs, Crunches … He had also followed her to her school, the University of Uyo and even her church, the Redeemed Christian Church of God at Edet Akpan Avenue. But the problem was that everywhere he followed her, she was always with company; always, even when she went to the ladies.
The time was now 5.45 pm. The Man In Black took the last quarter of an hour waiting to see who else would be watching Ice Age 4 but in all that time, no other person joined the girl, much to the surprise of The Man In Black. He spotted a janitor dusting the carpet at the doorway after the girl walked in. The janitor, with his broom and parker later followed the girl in, but was out in no time.
“Perfect,” The Man In Black droned. “I guess it’s just going to be you and me, baby.”
He picked up his tool kit, touched the brim of his hat and sauntered into Room 5. The room was dark and ice-chill. The flickering ray from the projector guided the path of The Man In Black. He picked a spot at the last row. His eyes roved in search of the girl but he could not spot her just yet. In no time, he opened his tool kit and started caressing each tool, one after the other.
In the tool box, he had every edition of Play Boy magazine of the last year, Vaseline, fifteen packs of Gold Circle condom, one sex toy, a Karma Sutra DVD collection, some other X-rated movies, Barbie versions of Nicky Minaj, Kim Kardashian and Mercy Johnson, a knife which he never used, a hammer, twine, and sketches of several girls. He picked up the sketch of the girl he had followed in. He was a good artist, and he had perfectly captured the excessively heavy bust and waistline of the girl. Ever since he crossed paths with her at Central Supermarket, she had remained in his thoughts – just like every other girl he had fantasized about.
He remembered his eighteenth birthday. He had unknowingly walked into his naked mother in her room. What he saw aroused the man in him. He had rushed back into his room, put down a sketch of his naked mom, and used the drawing to satisfy his libido whenever he had an urge to masturbate. With time, he got fed up with his mother’s sketch and craved for somebody else. He picked on some girls in his class, put down their sketches and used them to satisfy his libido. Over time, he got fed up with fantasizing over these girls in his room. He had new ideas. He would put down the sketch of a girl that caught his fancy, follow her to wherever and arouse himself to satisfaction, with both the sketch and the girl still in view. It did not matter whether he had full view of the girl so long she was around, no matter the distance. Her presence alone made him feel he was actually making love to her. He would slide his hand into his trouser and get going. And depending on how wild his fantasy took him that day,he would dress accordingly. In the past,he had dressed as a policeman, doctor, engineer, reporter and even,pastor. Today,he was a mobster. He had followed girls to the supermarket, park, class room, club and even, the church. Today would be the first time he would be doing it in a cinema room and he was more than pleased his plot was playing out, hitch-free after a week of wrecked plans.
The ray of the projector fell on his shoulders and leg. He reached for the sketch and positioned it neatly against the dim ray on his leg. He could not still spot the girl. It did not matter. He would get going, arouse himself with her sketch and just before he climaxed, he knew he would see her. Perfect!
Just as he slid his hands into his trouser, the knife fell from the tool box.
“Shit,” he cursed.
He reached under the seat for the knife but got his hand into something sticky. His fingers moved over the floor and he felt more wetness. He reached for his Blackberry and turned on the torchlight. He was taken aback at what he saw. He saw the knife quite alright, but in a pool of red. He picked up the knife, dollops of red trickling off it, and traced the pool of red which stretched to the centre of the row. There, he saw the body of the girl, resting in a queer position. Her body sank deep into the seat with her head bent awkwardly to the side. His heart started racing and his forehead broke a sweat. He did not want to think what he was thinking.
He dragged his shaky feet over to her seat. A tiny hole with jagged edges rested on her chest, fresh red liquid trickling down. The Man In Black felt sick instantly and vomited. His puke spread over the still body of the girl. Without thinking, and frightened to the bones, he made for the puke trying to wipe it off the girl, his hands shaking uncontrollably. Then he spotted a note on her leg. He picked it up and lifted it against the ray. A roughly scribbled message read: +234 87 41229415.
The Man In Black dropped the note, wiped off sweat from his forehead and dashed to his seat. He threw his blood-covered knife and the girl’s sketch into his tool kit, slammed it shut and made for the exit door. Just as he opened the door, a girl walked past him into the room. The Man In Black was sure the girl noticed the uneasiness on his face. He moved on, hastening his steps as he spotted the exit door of the cinema complex. It was still some hundred steps away. He had not taken ten steps when he heard a loud scream coming from Room 5. He started hopping, but before he could make eighty steps, he heard a shout he was sure was directed at him.
“Murder! Murder! Stop that man!” It was a masculine voice.
All eyes in the lounge turned to him. He started running.
Five more steps and I’ll be there. Oh God, oh God…
As he reached for the door handle, he felt a heavy strike at the back of his neck and that was the last thing he remembered.


When the colonial masters obliged to give Nigeria her independence in 1960, there was optimism in the air amongst Nigerians. Fifty two years down that line, that optimism has given way to something dark. Throughout yesterday, I got constant reminders by BBM users of how bad, terrible, cursed, hopeless and doomed my beloved country was. The sensible and I dare say too, senseless ones joined in this new found hobby. While I saw courage in some PMs and broadcasts,  I  saw cowardice  in others.  This curious situation led me to check what was trending on Twitter concerning Nigeria’s forthcoming independence anniversary, as it was customary that when something big was there to talk about, it always trended on Twitter. Well, was I surprised about the result of my search? Yes!!! Nothing was said about Nigeria’s Independence anniversary. Nigerians weren’t talking about Nigeria’s big day!

I returned to my blackberry messenger and the “dark” pms and broadcast messages kept jumping at me. So I decided to let my followers know what Nigerians really thought or felt about their country on her fifty-second independence anniversary.

Continue reading