By:  Joshua A. Akor  Completed
Language: English
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A young guy keeps getting into trouble in very funny and unfortunate ways. He wrecked havocs on people too, mistakenly. He hallucinated and had great fantasies about people to brighten up his hearers. Afterwards, he came back to his mundane reality.

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76 Chapters
"Stupid being, I regret the day I gave birth to you, you are such a waste! I thought I gave birth to a child like everyone else would, I never knew I birthed a disgrace, a waste, a nonentity. I suffered, wore tattered clothes, slept hungry and had to do menial jobs only on a wasted investment I call a son. His usual custom is to tie wrapper, eat my food and sit idle all day and cause reckless havocs in people’s lives .AKOSIBERO!! (This is a Yoruba word that means a person who puts other people in trouble). You deserve to be called a just-came-to-earth individual. You’ve got no good history; neither does it seems like you have a future, charlatan!"These words from mama hit me hard. My saliva was too hard for me to swallow. I was downgraded and had no bit of self-worth and as mama said, I had nothing to do anymore on earth. I thought of the best thing to do, the best option for someone who had given up....find out! 
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I woke up 3 days after on a strange bed in a mysterious dark hut. “Please where am I?” I asked myself after which I coughed. I was so weak; I wondered what happened to me, like my brain was reset to factory setting. A small fire was lit by a corner of the hut which gave me warmth and light. I was even wrapped in a blanket, surprising. “oh Christ, what is going on?” Suddenly I felt a sharp pain on my left knee when I tried moving only to discover it was bandaged. In my awe, the door opened and two strange women in palm fronds kinda clothing stepped in. they looked like a certain tribe I couldn’t actually remember. They spoke some language I couldn’t understand. But from the gesture, I FIGURED OUT they were glad I was still alive. They left. What had happened to me? I sat by the corner of the bed and tried t
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I was promoted to jss2 at the age of 11 at the Mahadum. Mahadum was the most respected public school in our village. It had very large compounds, black chalkboards and other many other primitive facilities the villagers treasure their whole lives. Every day, you would see pupils carry their wooden slabs on which they write. The male teachers wore short sleeves, suspenders, short knickers on long socks and a long old fashioned shoe. And as you expect the village headmaster always had an exaggeration of everything. His rickety bicycle got the attention of everyone in town because that was the latest technology. I considered him to be very mean and wicked because he usually stands at the school gate as early as 6:00am to flog hell out of late-comers. If you come any time after 6.30 you would spend the day working at the farm behind his house, weeding tirelessly while your mates are inside classroom. I fell victim of my headmaster one Wednesday morning. Although I came to s
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Mama had no choice but to take me to Oga Sule the cobbler to learn the art of shoemaking. Since I was expelled from the only means of education at Shagbo, I just had to be up to something other than education that’s if I still had anything reasonable I wanted to do with my life.Oga Sule as he was fondly called was also known as Dr shoe. This was because he was highly recognized to be expertise with any form of footwear. He boasted he had a PhD in shoemaking from the University of oxford UK. He was tall, dark-skinned and handsome. And seemed his shoemaking profession has gotten him heights of good fortune. he had a very big shop at the centre of the Shagbo market where lots of apprentices and workers learnt from him. He was regarded to be the most successful in shagbo market and he was given a chieftaincy title. I’ve heard somewhere that Oga Sule can no longer perform his duty as a man. That is he cannot procreate, but he was fortunate to have given birth to a bou
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After series of meetings between my mother and brothers, they agreed the only place that suits me is an environment of God. Maybe somewhere spiritual enough to chase off the demons of badluck leading me to constant misfortune. It wasn't like they loved or wanted good out of me, they were actually scared they would be the next victims of my escapades and it was really dangerous living with them. I had two options, either to go to the only catholic convent in Shagbo or convert, become a Muslim and live with the cleric in the mosque a stone throw to my house. I didn’t embrace the conversion idea, going to the convent wasn’t an idea I really loved either. Now I go dey live with dem reverend father, catholic priests and nuns in a very weird lifestyle. Most importantly I would miss my home, my beautiful mother and my fun-to-be-with brothers but, e be things!I really didn’t like it at the convent, most especially my first day there. They did receive me in warm arm
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“Iron sharpeneth iron so a man sharpeneth his friend’s countenance” , but I was daft. Why on earth would I be in a friendship where we both had our individual problems? Not ordinary problems, issues!!!The most Reverend father of the diocese had a public image of being the holiest man on earth. He was worshiped and his feet were kissed daily. He was regarded as the son of God by the gullible people of Shagbo. After Sunday service, people queued in front of the parish office. One by one, they entered to meet ‘HIS MOST HIGH’ to confess their sins. ‘Father forgive me’ they took turns to say this statement. I obviously had no choice but to join the ‘geng’. That expanded my capacity to engage in sinful activities, since I could just go to the parish office every Sunday and be forgiven. Even in my sins, I still had good morals and virtues. I learnt a lot from mama and I heard her imaginary voice cautioning me whenever I wanted t
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It shone bright in the hot afternoon at Shagbo and its environs. The hot winds of the harmattan made sure it dried up mucus or any form of lubrication from every nostril, leaving it dried up. This made the owner wear a frowny look. How about the intensity of its sunshine? It struck every head. The ‘head owner’ must either find a shade or be ready to groan in the agony of migraines or frequent headaches.The nights were cold as anything else. Touch the great Shagbo River at night, it’s warm. Warm enough to prepare hot tea in the cold nights. Land and sea breeze was a recognized practical example of convection currents in nature. The five-boy band was seen at their usual hideout; the bush. It was surrounded with large chumps of rocks, scattered trees and little shrubs. This was the cool atmosphere they considered as a place that helps them get inspiration during rehearsals. They were very popular and cos of it
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I was told the Vicar was terribly sick of a cardiovascular disease the doctor called Myocardial Infarction (Heart attack). He had been rushed to the state hospital some days ago. We both decided to go pay Vicar a visit on his sick bed. Sandra and I had become close friends. Oh, you thought I didn't tell her about my clowny misfortunes? I did! You wouldn't believe it, after telling her, her love for me doubled. She became curious to know me more. An irony isn't it? We became close.We both set out to the intensive care unit of the state hospital. There we saw the vicar who was always looking hale and hearty looking so pale and sick. The sickness struck him so hard to a point he was demanding 'mercy killing' from the medical personnels. You can imagine. I felt bad seeing the man who loved me so much in such horrible state. Sandra never felt different, sadness was written all over her. He was admitted to WARD 24 where he would wait for a Coronary Bypass Surgery. We both had to s
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 Nurse Florence wasn't reluctant after she was paid a lump sum of #500,000. She didn't even think twice before accepting the offer. Moreover, Chinua did well in convincing her to give in. Money is indeed the root of evils."He is in ward 24, a fair-skinned guy, wrapped up in a purple blanket, that's him! Inject him with something lethal and take his life without hesitation. Let him go and be singing with the angels in heaven." She smiled, they shook hands afterwards. They had struck a deal!The night was cold, probably cos Shagbo was in its mid-harmmatan season. The mid-night before the dawn of vicar's coronary bypass surgery, vicar was giving some kinda reactions I never liked. He was talking like someone about to kick the bucket, giving some farewell speech, wishing Sandra and I luck in our endeavors in life and all. "Vicar, can you please stop all these? You will not die, this surgery will
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   And so, on and on ,like the osscilation of a pendulum, the disheartening piece of my bio churned while the sands of time dripped slowly and slowly as it watched my narration irks the soul of the spectators. That I thought, but it appeared to be  nothing but a blunt lie. It was a revolving piece of gags and laughs. A piece of funny cake, a chunk of interesting cheese, a loaf of an adventurous bread and a real ginger to the spirits of the audience. They applauded. I took a decision to brighten up and go kind of complicated. I hallucinated via traveling through the roads of time to a world of hope. The hope I couldn't give probably my careful friends, you know them. I mean the ones who never fell into the snare of clowny unfortunate mishaps SANDRA, SOLOMON and IK (my fi
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