All posts by logiclaughs


I credit Henry David Thoreau for the critical structure of this essay


I do not think that I will be alone in saying that I am quite enamored by the concept of money. Whether it’s the printed pieces of paper that seem to dictate the daily lives of the people, or the bank account numbers that seemingly determine self-worth, it is a system of value that nobody really chooses but everyone agrees on.

A “poor” man is seen as a person who does not have money in “adequate” amounts; and this adequacy is defined by how he compares with his peers. In an attempt to garner more money the “poor” man must undertake a series of risky, monotonous or otherwise soul-crushing tasks; tasks which are rarely natural to the human condition in order to survive. Tasks that only result in more tasks, making him/her even more subservient to the circumstances that they had tried to escape in the process.

Ever since the discovery of oil, “urbanization” and subsequent westernization, Nigerians have developed a warped sense of money. Instead of money being a tool to develop and improve life, foster trade and innovation, instead it has become a goal to be attained; and because of this, money that is meant to simplify life has been made to compound it.

The “poor” man that grows his own food and makes his own shelter is now a villager, a relic of an old age and not worthy of any respect. If he cannot escape his circumstance he is seen as spiritually deficient. As he cannot put his experiences to paper he is deemed an illiterate. But the “rich” man is wise. The “rich” man who attains foreign appliances which he cannot produce nor maintain, the “rich” man who has lost all semblance of bodily fitness, who actively spends on products designed to destroy his body and soul.

Money has become a god in itself, and its ways are mysterious indeed. In its poetic beauty it is no respecter of persons. It may choose to bless the short or the tall, the book-smart or the street-smart, the fit or the unfit, the hardworking or the lazy. Money can bless a generation and curse another within the same family. It can strengthen a tribe or it can destroy it. It can motivate a nation or it can demoralize it.

Pray tell, the use of acquiring a multi-million naira vehicle, if there are no roads for it to ply? It would seem that the nation has imported its stock of appliances in excess that there is not enough electricity generated to utilize them… We are an island of consumers. There is little incentive to produce anything of value; even the humble toothpick is imported from overseas, as well as the noble straw. I still find it hard to place where the lack of support for local business stems from. Is it out of hatred for our fellow man? Or the fear that he might rise above us? Could it stem from a lack of trust in his abilities or his intentions? We seem to crave foreign intervention for issues we could handle perfectly ourselves. We seek to “escape” to foreign lands with less natural resources and harsher climates than our own for some semblance of sanity. We go where we are not needed nor wanted to find what we destroyed.

We rejected coins because notes were easier to handle (which is the most logical conclusion from that debacle). When the people don’t like something, they don’t like something. We chose inflation instead. And yet the notes we clung on to we crumple and deface on a daily basis. Where a coin could have lasted a decade, a note can only last a year.

I find it ironic that the learned politician, who fearfully stashes away large sums of money in his sewage pit, cutting it off from circulation and ventilation, thereby driving down its value both literally and economically, is more respected than the internet fraudster; the G man who through ingenuity and skill, plays on the greed of his victims and injects foreign currency into the economy.

Our priorities are long lost.

But why do I write all this? Let it be known, humble reader, that this is no call to pacifism; for there is nothing more dangerous to the human condition. After all, this is the realm of power, and the violent take it by force and whatnot. But if this is our true nature and this is how things are meant to be… why then do the people complain. I do tire of the incessant complaining. The “poor” man complains vehemently about his condition as does the “rich” man. If there is one thing that will unify the nation it is lamentation and apportioning blame to anyone other than ourselves. Gathered around a newspaper stand the herd argue bitterly over the many transgressions of the shepherd, blaming him for all their ills. At political gatherings the shepherd berates the herd for not toiling hard enough in the sun, as he fears for his security and seeks protection with the wolves.

Best not to further dampen your spirits by entertaining fantasies of what could have been. Best to adapt and overcome. Celebrate the scavenger and learn his ways. Give us Barabbas and keep your Messiahs. We refuse to yield.




When I was younger it was bad manners to bring a cellphone to class. In fact, ANY electronics you brought to class was considered “contraband” and seized immediately. So the Game Boys, Nokias, Motorolas, CDs of any kind, even digital watches that beeped too loud, all found their way to the headmaster’s drawer till further notice (i.e. whenever you grew the balls to ask for them back).

Back then, those who risked bringing any contraband to class were the “bad boys”, the “bad girls”, the kids to stay away from. If you were caught using you were just as culpable, even if the device wasn’t yours. Your parents were called. It was intense. The tears, the corporal punishment, the shame, all because Batman’s punches from level 6 were a little too loud in Math class.


SO YOU CAN IMAGINE MY SURPRISE when I visited said class recently. Now at a legal age to get wasted on alcohol, talk less of carrying a phone to class. The guards looked at me funny when I said I came for ‘Nostalgia’ which is understandable I guess…

EVERY KID had an iPad and a phone. Not only was it not contraband, it was actually mandatory to have one. They used iPads DURING class as an alternative to books. There were actual classes dedicated to surfing the internet responsibly, I STILL saw kids playing Batman behind the desk mind you, but this time it’s cool. It’s learning.


When I say “Kids Stop Listening to Adults!” I’m not kidding. Every adult advised against having a phone as a kid. Worst of all Parents, for the child’s “protection”. Can’t be too hard on them though, considering that mobile use in my country started in 2001, and even then the internet wasn’t really a thing till around 2007. But now…

There’s an actual economy dedicated to phone use, internet use, electronic management. Companies pay for people to handle twitter accounts for them now, there’s courses for Social Media Metric Analysis. App development has become a 9 to 5. In fact , my country’s most popular blogger, Linda Ikeji, is worth 12 million dollars and an employer of labour. She runs a gossip blog; make of that what you will.

So imagine the possibilities if you had allowed yourself get a headstart in that market as a kid.



“Stop playing video games so much” seems like pretty good advice on the surface, especially when barking from the lips of an adult you are dependent upon. Now take those negative affirmations, crank up the volume to 200% and place them in the early 2000s, when the Playstation one had just started to become a thing in my country. A kid that played video games was one that wasted his life, his potential and his eyes. I had friends whose consoles were actually thrown in the trash for insubordination.



As at the time of this post the person with the most subscriptions on Youtube is a young man from Sweden called Pewdiepie. A silly name to adopt right? Pewdiepie is worth 20 million dollars and has over 18 billion views and counting. What did he do to get so successful you ask?

At the age of 25, Pewdiepie had made 7.4 million dollars by FILMING HIMSELF PLAYING VIDEO GAMES. He had dropped out of school to develop his Youtube account, which pissed off his Parents as you would imagine. I expect they’re okay with it now. The gaming companies certainly are: they pay him to advertise their consoles and programs on his website. Amazingly, Pewdiepie is not the only one to have gained success doing Video Game Commentary, an entire host of others have made 10 million dollars and above from it: ElRubiusOMG (27.4 million subscribers), Fernanfloo (26.4 million subscribers), JuegaGerman (24.6 million subscribers) just to name a few of these rich nerds 🙂

An entire market has been created for Video game players now, known as E SPORTS. These are video game competitions that offer up to 5 million dollars in winnings per competition. The Video Game Industry now supports a variety of businesses, Commentators, Analysts, Game developers, Models, Musicians, Actors and Voice Actors, even Game Testers. Amazing isn’t it?



I could write an entire novel on how much Parents did not wish for their kids to become musicians as a kid. Then I could release a book series explaining with examples how wrong they’ve been proven. As part of the “Stay in School Mantra” that was wildly popular in the late 90’s for some reason, any kids that wished to venture into music were labeled delinquents, unserious and lacking motivations.

Musicians were nothing to aspire to become, which seems quite funny now seeing as there’s SO MUCH MUSIC in our daily life that it has become impossible to ignore. Musicians smoked weed on television, flaunted their sexual exploits, dressed in suggestive and revealing displays. Musicians were seen as drug abusers, sex offenders, even spiritually and mentally disturbed individuals. While some of this might hold true (indeed it does in some cases), it seems wholly irrelevant now…



Larger than life Musical Characters are actually marketed TO children, so all the tattoed, drug using, sexual imagery is cool now for kids. “Parental Advisory Explicit Content” is just a label put on albums to avoid trouble. Kids are finally free to listen to who they want and aspire to become. Music has been so accepted culturally that it affects almost everything related to lifestyle. Clothing, Hair Care and Beauty products, the automobile industry, language… Musicians receive endorsements from MacDonalds, Burger King, Adidas, Nike, Louis Vuitton, Ferrari, Mercedes, you get the picture.

Not only are musicians no longer pariahs, they are actually revered now. The weirder the better: Piercings, Tattooes, Prison convictions, Coloured hair, all displays for value as a creative artiste. We now live in a wonderful time where rappers receive keys to the city, perform at government functions and for government officials and schools…

A rapper known as Kendrick Lamar won the Pulitzer Prize for Music recently… damn, as a kid it was wrong to even use the F word. What a time to be alive.




Hate it or Love it, Football is the most popular sport in the world, played in over 200 countries. A single football match can see up to 70,000 travelling fans. In the English Premier League (My Country’s favourite), the cheapest matchday ticket costs more than 30 pounds.

In the wake of the recently concluded World Cup, I’m going to run some random statistics about Football’s International Association, FIFA. FIFA is a Non-Profit Organisation by the way…

FIFA’s revenue from 2015-2018 totals about 5.65 billion dollars. In 2017 alone it stood at 734 million dollars. FOX currently holds the rights to televise the 2022 World cup, but it wasn’t cheap, they paid 400 million dollars for it. FIFA made 527 million during the 2014 World Cup from the sale of TICKETS. They made 1.45 billion dollars from marketing rights for the 2015-2018 cycle. I’m going to stop here for now…

…ludicrous from outside observation that so much can be generated from two teams of 11 players each kicking a leather ball around. Funny enough, even today kids are discouraged from choosing Football as a profession in my country. The sport is so loved, universally watched, has sprung a plethora of betting websites, yet hardly supported by the Government. But I digress…


Not to say that your parents don’t want the best for you. They really do. But the thing is, a parent will most likely act on certain impulses when it comes to their children. The Impulse to keep their kids protected from any harm is one; Some Parents want to see kids continue their Legacy, rather than build their own. Worst of all, growing up makes you Jaded, Cynical and less open to exploring new opportunities; so some Parents don’t want their kids taking unnecessary risks. But…


…as a Kid you have no such fears. That’s the beauty of it. You can develop an interest in almost anything. As long as it’s productive, do it. Cultivate your talents. Explore your environment. You never know, that thing you discuss with your friends on the playground could be the next big thing…


If you are new to the drama and glamour that is the Nigerian Election just wait till 2019. Oh boy! are you in for a treat. The campaign jingles will be catchy and memorable, The Promises to serve will be grandiose and verbose, People will get arrested, others freed, the Media and Social Media houses will experience a content frenzy. The excitement of the FIFA World cup pales in comparison to the quest for leadership in this Nation. And yet, after the high that the process gives, all we are left with is the crushing disappointment of reality. This is due in part to what I call…




For some time now the Nigerian people have been fond of searching for “The One”. The Political Saviour who will arrive and completely change the country’s fortunes overnight. The Religious sensibilities of the people will reach a peak every four years. It would seem that every Electoral candidate comes with the promise of performing miracles.



I had no shoes” said President Goodluck Jonathan in the battle for 2011. It was a tale of Legend, a young boy whose lack of footwear could not hold him back from pursuing an education. We were intrigued to learn his secret. Four years of the most gruesome allegations of misappropriation later, a new warrior unsheathed his blade…




“I am going to kill corruption” said President Muhammadu Buhari in 2015. We jumped at the opportunity. Finally, a man who killed vices with his bare hands. The change we needed became the change we never expected. The youths were reported to the colonial masters. “They want everything free”. It was an unkind critique of the human condition.




I eagerly anticipate the Miracles that will the claimed by the next set of aspirants, where every campaign banner will be photoshopped to the last hair, with quotes that illustrate a heaven within the reach of the people. If we have learnt one thing from our 58 years of independence, it is that the old ways do not work. Why then, would we continue to use them?

It would seem that the nation is aging in reverse. Personally, I would expect a leader to be the best representative of the people. If I had wanted someone to represent me, I would look for the strongest, the most intelligent, the most well spoken. A leader to me, is not a miracle worker, but one that inspires hope and gives a sense of direction. It is why we Africans idolize the Nelson Mandelas and Martin Luther Kings.

But maybe that’s just me. There is no escaping the conundrum. One must lead for others to follow, otherwise we all ply the roads with no direction. Would you rather drive your car into a ditch knowingly or unknowingly? My major gripe with the Nigerian people is that in the wake of religious and ethic disunity,
we have been so busy searching for answers that we forgot to ask questions. The only solution is inquiry. This time around,




Ask for debates, Ask for town hall meetings, Ask for manifestos. Your candidate, who is he? Who is she? Where are they from? What have they done? What do they wish to do? What qualifies them for public service? How can they help the nation?

Ask and ask again, otherwise your voters card is just a tool for your slavery. For another four years at least.


P/S More fun awaits. Check out my Amazon page for books, comics and lots more content. Thanks for reading.


I don’t know about you but I believe in miracles. Not because I have proof or anything like that, only because in my lifetime, I am lucky to have witnessed two of the greatest miracle workers my country ever produced at work. Their names alone strike fear into the hearts of wandering demons and underworld princesses. Those names are:  PASTOR CHRIS OYAKHILOME and PROPHET T.B. JOSHUA.


Typing those names alone sent shivers down my spine. If you’re hearing these names for the first time, and are unfamiliar with their work, let me enlighten you with a hip hop analogy: These two are to the exorcist game what Drake and Kendrick Lamar are to the rap game. Pastor Chris being the Drake in this situation and Prophet TBJ being the Kdot. I’ll give a brief description of each below.




Beloved pastor, author, singer and Ph.D holder (Ph.D – Pretty Huge Divinity). Pastor Chris took an alternative approach to casting out demons to huge success. This is the first man I ever saw on Tv to sweet talk a demon to death. His method is very scientific if you think about it

  • First, he gets in touch with the demon’s emotions. Tries to understand the motivations of the demon. Holds hands with the human vessel and sometimes hugs them. You know, he’s like a therapist but one with godlike powers.


  • Second, he serenades the demon, sometimes with a song from his youth, other times with ballroom dancing and lots of eye contact. Seriously tho, What demon could resist this?



  • Third, he explains the situation to the demon. “You know I can’t have you possessing one of my members” sometimes in tears… sometimes the demon is in tears… sometimes the audience is in tears… I’m just saying, there’s a lot of tears involved.


  • Finally he expels the demon with a gentle breeze of his minty fresh breath. The demon swoons. It’s pretty much game over after that.




Earlier I compared this man (of God) with Kendrick Lamar and its not just because both men call themselves Prophets… Prophet TBJ really doesn’t care about the hood politics or conventions of the healing game… that demon is coming out one way or another.

Prophet TBJ declares all out war on all demons and tolerates no arguments. He’s been known to whip demons, berate demons, lock them up, arrest demons (with handcuffs).

His deliverance equipment reads like something out of the SAW movie series or a hardcore BDSM fantasy – ropes, canes, masks, cages, you name it, he has it.  Needless to say, by the time he’s done with a demon, they’re left extremely sore by the experience. All this he does with a wry smile on his face.



Now that I’m done adoring these great men (of God), I want to address an issue…

A lot of nonbelievers and atheists would argue.. “This is stupid, miracles aren’t real” and “If miracles are real, and exorcism is true, how come there are still a lot of crazy people on the street?” You have a point, there are a lot of crazy people out there. But I will answer that question how all great men of God have answered questions, with a parable….


Once upon a time I was strolling through our neighbourhood market and as fate would have it, there was a notorious madman roaming the streets. A Keke Napep pastor at the time, new to the rules and regulations of miracle working, looked to challenge himself and his faith and saw this as an opportunity to show himself.

“I will cure that madman” he said.

The traders on the street scoffed, unbelieving; but the pastor was not deterred. The madman stood by the gutter, staring into the horizon when the pastor approached him.

“MADMAN” the pastor called out.

The madman, shocked by the address, responded “What did you call me?”

“I want to introduce you to my God!” the pastor continued. “The one that will cure all your problems!”

“Who told you I have problems?” asked the madman.

The Pastor bellowed “Do not be afraid!!! The God I am speaking of is up there in the heavens. Look up.”

The madman looked up. “I can’t see anything”

“It is because you are blind! You are blind to the word of God!! I said LOOK UP”

“There is nothing there.”

“You are not looking properly. LOOK UP”


P/S More fun awaits. Check out my Amazon page for books, comics and lots more content. Thanks for reading.


Sometimes I feel like the origin stories of my favorite actors and musicians are made up fairy tales. In fact, sometimes I feel like Wikipedia profiles are absolute crap. I’ll explain.

Take someone like D’Banj for instance– African Music Megastar, Cultural Icon, Gifted Entertainer and World Class Fela Impersonator.


Now, according to his internet biography, D’Banj once worked as a security guard in the UK before he became a musician.

Assuming this were to be true, could you just imagine the mannerisms and hilarisms of D’Banj being a security guard? Exactly what kind of organization would hire such a skinny fellow to stand guard at the gate?  Do security uniforms come in sleeveless shirts and bootcut trouser varieties?


…and how come not a single customer of said institution has ever stepped forward to testify to the fact that D’banj once welcomed them in through the doors. It would seem like a pretty memorable event to have D’Banj usher you into the building..

Customer enters

Security man: “Oshe!! Welcome-to-Customer-Care-Services-UK-Limited-PLC-Im-D’Banj… or-Ski-Banj-like-my-Jamaican-friends-call-me-and-BEFORE-you-enter-the-building-please-permit-me-to-inspect-that-BIG-BIG-BIG-BOOTY”

Customer: ‘Can I go in with my bag?’

Security man: “FIILE!! Don’t touch it. Leave it! We will take-care-of-it for you.”

Customer: ‘Will it be safe?’

Security man: “No long tin. No long tin.”

Customer: ‘Can you direct me to the receptionist’s desk?’

Security man: “Just move that booty to the left of the corridor and you will meet one mamalette with a green blouse. Just ask her “WHY ME OH!” She will direct you to a babylette on the second floor. She will tell you the koko.”

You know what? On second thought—I think he would make an excellent security guard.

Now, DON JAZZY’s origin story is totally unbelievable, not to mention unacceptable.


The story is that he used to sell akara when he was a toddler, but I don’t see how that can be true… he would be giving away akara for free like it was water—

–I mean have you seen this guy’s twitter account? The guy is too generous. He practically gives away a new car every week.

The only way I could really see Don Jazzy as an akara seller was if a customer vexed the guy and got him angry for some reason. Like imagine if a  customer tried to steal some akara from him and he caught them…

Customer: “Is it because of one akara I tried to take from you that you’re frowning like this? This small akara?”

Akara seller: ‘Egbon Customer, If you want the akara, come and take it.’
don jazzy fallout

Are there any origin stories of your favorite celebrities that you think are absolute balderdash? Feel free to comment below…


P/S Don’t forget to check out my Amazon page for books, comics and lots more content. Thanks for reading.


I just like the way white people operate, very smooth and calm like, ya know?

I mean don’t get me wrong, I love Black people, I love Asians, I love Hispanics, Smurfs, whatever your skin colour… that’s not the point of this post. It’s just that, white people have this, quality…

Take a country like ours for instance. If you bring a white man to your business the business will mysteriously start to grow. Lemme repeat that statement for you guys just in case you didn’t get that, in pidgin. If you bring oyibo come your shop, market go dey move. I’m not even joking about this.

The white dude doesn’t even have to do anything. Seriously, let’s test this. Find the nearest white guy in your area (this might be harder for those of you in Ojuelegba) and place him in front of your shop; right next to the carton of Indomie, and watch the business grow. Double props if it’s a white girl. It doesn’t even matter if she has like 50 tattoos or something. It’s all good. White people tattoos are the least dangerous tattoos you can think of…


Have you seen when a white guy is covering the news, like when an earthquake happens?

Very calm and collected reporting–

“Three hundred people were killed today in Earthquake Rebecca today and fifty more were left injured. The disaster occurred at 3o’clock in the afternoon…” all with a straight face.


You’d think she was telling a bedtime story or something.

Even when the disaster victim is white they’re still chill about it—

“Sir the earthquake took us all by surprise.. can you please tell us what happened, in your own words”

“Well, I was walking my dog around the area when I heard some strange noises. The ground began to shake so I thought ‘that’s weird’ that doesn’t usually happen, so I took cover under that tree, took a selfie and dialed 911…”

It’s surreal.

Now Imagine if the earthquake happened in this country. Even that imagination alone is enough to make some people shout “God forbid” at their phone screens talk less of the earthquake itself. Say an earthquake happened in Ikorodu…

“Sir the earthquake took us all by surprise.. can you please describe what happened in your own wor–”
“Chei! CHEI! Oh mY God, OH MY GOD……

I was just taking my baff next thing I heard.. GbUruMGBURUUURRUgburum so I jumped outside the window. That is why you are seeing me in my towel right now. I don’t think I can enter that house again until ma Pastor prays over the compound…”

You know as a kid I used to think white people weren’t afraid of danger but that has to be ridiculous right? Everbody gets scared, right? right?

I remember watching a show called Jackass. In this show the characters would do the most humiliating hurtful things to their bodies. Like fight with bees and jump into a pool of ice water and fight bulls and shit. Now I noticed something about the characters of this show.


None of them were black.

They even had a white midget in there but no black guys. That show would never survive today.

Okay one last thing, to close out the post–

Remember the olden days when our forefathers lived in huts and wore lion skin and stuff? If you watch Africa Magic you know what I’m talking about.
The time where an African child’s mother would be like “My son, whatever you do, don’t go into the evil forest. If you go there you will DIE!”
And the son would say “No mother. I will not go into the evil forest. I do not want to DIE”

Now imagine if that woman adopted a white kid.

“William, I beg of you, in the name of God, do not go into the evil forest for any reason. If you do, you will DIE”

The white kid goes “Mom it’s okay, I went there yesterday it wasn’t that bad”


P/S Don’t forget to check out my Amazon page for books, comics and lots more content. Thanks for reading.



Ladies and/or gentlemen and people of all color welcome to the show,

we have a very special guest with us tonight… he is a very popular trolls rights activist, novelist and local singer… erm, he is the voice behind the hashtag #TrollsUnite and the founder of the Society for the Advancement of Trolling Rights Everywhere – #SATIRE please give a warm welcome to Logic Laughs.




Logic Laughs:  Thank you all, It’s great to be here

       Interviewer:  It’s great to have you here on the show Logic, can I call you Logic?

Logic Laughs:  Of course you can. I’m a very nice person. *CROSSES LEGS*

Interviewer:  I’m just going to get off the bat here, erm, because we’re all dying to hear your story… What inspired you to be a trolls rights activist?

Logic Laughs:  Thank you Oprah, I get that question a lot. I remember the first time I was called a Troll. I was posting some random tweets, you know on the website, Twitter?

     Interviewer:  mm hmm

Logic Laughs:  and out of the blue someone replies one of my tweets and tells me to “stop trolling”

     Interviewer:  They told you to “stop trolling”?

Logic Laughs:  *SIGHS* Yes

     Interviewer:  Terrible

Logic Laughs:  now obviously I didn’t know what trolling meant at the time

     Interviewer:  mm hmm

Logic Laughs:  so I typed in “trolling” into google search, and before I could finish typing,   some google suggestions started to appear

     Interviewer:  What kinds of suggestions?

Logic Laughs:  Like “I hate trolls” “Trolls are disgusting” “Trolls are the devil” stuff like that.



     Interviewer:  Just awful

Logic Laughs:  What’s even worse is that, I finally hit search, and there were all these…    depictions of trolls as monsters, trolls as computer geeks and stuff…

….Even in movies, like there’s this one movie where a troll walks into a girl’s    bathroom and tries to attack her –

     Interviewer:  What movie was that?

Logic Laughs:  Harry Potter, I think it was called


Logic Laughs:  and I remember thinking, how could anyone film something like this? A   troll would never attack anyone, much less a child, but they had us  attacking little girls in bathrooms.

     Interviewer:  It must have been an awful experience for you.

Logic Laughs:  *IN TEARS* It was.

     Interviewer: So what happened next?

Logic Laughs:  So I decided that I wasn’t going to take it anymore



I decided that I would go out and do something about it you know. We trolls are as valid contributors to the society as any other person out there, I mean you can find us on, on Reddit forums, you can find us on Youtube comment sections, iMDb message boards, back seats of stadiums – we have a right to exist as much as anyone else.




     Interviewer:  A very, very brave story. Erm… we have a caller for Logic on the line from   Boston, she is a mother of two and her name is Andrea. How are you  Andrea?

Andrea:  Great. It’s so great to be able to call in and talk to Logic Laughs, he has been an inspiration to me and my family in a big way.

     Logic Laughs:  Thank you. Glad to be of service.

Andrea:  My son recently went to school dressed like a Kardashian, and the other children actually mocked him for it

     Logic Laughs:  They mocked him?

Andrea:  I mean why can’t my son have a normal life like other kids without being vilified for it?

     Logic Laughs:  You see this is exactly what I’m talking about. This is why I fight hard everyday for #SATIRE. We need to stop the oppression of trolls. It’s ridiculous. I see no reason why a creative young man cant dress up as –   which Kardashian was that Andrea?

Andrea:  Kanye

     Logic Laughs:  – I mean it’s absolutely atrocious, don’t you think so Oprah?

Interviewer:  Stop calling me Oprah

     Logic Laughs:  – I see no reason why these people should choose to accost us just because they feel threatened by us. It’s absolutely ridiculous.

This is why as the founder of SATIRE, I am calling for the boycott of all  Harry Potter movies, Warcraft video games, lord of the Rings T-shirts and English dictionaries worldwide.


Interviewer:  A very brave erm… statement. Alright before we end this segment I have a final question that I feel needs to be asked. What can ordinary citizens do to advance trolling rights?

     Logic Laughs:  It’s very simple. The key word here is tolerance, and knowing that trolls are people just like you. When you see us on your timeline or in the street, welcome us , don’t block us.

Interviewer:  So, stop blocking trolls?

     Logic Laughs:  Exactly, and there’s another technique I think might be useful

Interviewer:  Oh yea? What’s that?

     Logic Laughs:  Whenever you see a troll, you could open your mouth at them, and let some sounds come out of it.

Interviewer:  You mean like a cough?

      Logic Laughs:  Laughter, I meant laughter.


Interviewer:  Of course, well it’s been great having you on the show Logic and we hope to have you again soon.

     Logic Laughs:  Thanks for having me. It was great to be here *Adjusts Crocs*

Interviewer:  Alright, next on the show we have an interview with the leader of #STD – the Society for The Decaricaturisation of Donald Trump . Don’t touch that dial, we’ll be right back



N.B The Curse of the First Borns is now gaining traction on Check it out



This post goes out to all first-borns in African households. By ‘first-born’ I mean that you are a first child in that family (the first to be born), and as a first child there are things you go through that other children just won’t understand…

Others will not feel your pain, when you are acting all silent and moody, then someone says… “Oh! She’s the first born” and another person says “No wonder…”

and when you’re wondering why your junior ones are getting all the cool nicknames (like Prince), but you got the most traditional names in your village (Olatunji Olakunle Bright Jnr)… and still the pastor made sure your baptismal name is AUGUSTUS

and when you read the bible story of Jacob and Esau, and Esau lost his birthright, but somehow Esau is still the bad guy for being hungry…



-Sometimes the society doesn’t realize the subtle oppression it puts you through..


but this post will surely feel your pain. This post will bring your silent struggles to light. Your many silent struggles. And why you struggle so.


N.B. saying ‘First-borns’ is a hell of a lot tiring so I’ll just shorten it to FIBI,

so dear readers, anytime you see FIBI in this post, know that it means ‘First-born’ okay? Let’s go…


  • The Pregnancy

Being FIBI means you were the first pregnancy your parents ever had to deal with, and with the first pregnancy comes the most anxiety and fear.


Which means when you were conceived, your mother was anxious because she was new to the experience of pregnancy. ..

Before, she was thinking of new shoes and hairstyles and P Square’s album is coming out next week…

now she is gaining weight, her hormones are dancing, all these people want to touch her belle…


When you were conceived as FIBI, your father was new to the responsibility and the changes as well.

Before he was thinking of English Premier League and Buhari’s new budget…

now he’s thinking of Pampers and School Fees and Praying his wife is okay.

This atmosphere of anxiety could haunt you forever.


  • Experimentation

Now, because your parents were new to the experience of having you, there were probably more mistakes in raising you than raising your junior ones. (You know, from lack of experience)

As FIBI you are “the experiment baby”.

Your parents did not understand much about your growth. Your younger brothers and sisters did not feel this because your parents had built up the experience from having you.

I’ll give an example, when FIBI starts teething, because the mother is new to the experience, she might think

“What the hell is happening to my child? Why is there Saliva everywhere?”

But when the second or third born starts teething, she can tell the difference because

“Oh Junior is teething, I remember when it happened to FIBI.”


This is why the second and third borns may be growing faster than you, even though you’re eating the same food. They know how it works now.


  • Forbidden Fruit

In our African society, where more people have premarital sex than they like to admit; some marriages are preordained by pregnancy.

After impregnating baby girl, the only acceptable social alternative for big daddy is to marry her. In such situations, many parents see FIBI as the reason for their marriage..

and if such relationships turn bitter, you will be the reason for their problems.

“If I didn’t get pregnant with you, I wouldn’t be in this mess”

good parenting


Why are they blaming you for a problem you did not cause?


  • The responsibility

As FIBI, you are expected to be the next authority figure in the house. When the parents leave, you are expected to be the ‘man of the house’ or ‘woman of the house’.

You are expected to be in check of your siblings at all times. And if they do not behave, you are the one to take the blame. All this on your small head.

As FIBI, when you get a junior brother or sister you are expected to nurture them as well. You are supposed to be the ‘third parent’ of the kids. Their second daddy, Their second mummy.


You see, as a child, you are naturally programmed to see your siblings as competition. You’re thinking “Who is this other baby? And why is Mommy showing them more attention than me?” But you need to fight your programming, and protect them.

Why wont you share? Don’t you know she’s your baby sister?

Sometimes, Favouritism comes into play, and FIBI will feel isolated in their own home.


N.B. Don’t forget, FIBI is supposed to get married before their junior ones.

As FIBI, you need to marry quickly in order to give your brothers and sisters a chance. Why?    -Because you are FIBI of course, and this is Africa.

This is what I like to call, the FIBI Time Limit™


  • The only child

The only child is the double wahala of this discussion, because not only are you a first child, you are the center of attention. You are a product of anxiety that carries your entire life. Not only are you privy to all the conditions mentioned above, but now, you are the ‘only hope’ of the family.

‘only’ daughters will rarely ever have suitors that please their parents, because it’s not about the suitor, it’s the harsh reality of seeing their only daughter go. And yet, ‘only’ children are primed from childhood to breed and breed quickly and vastly.

As an only child you are prone to more and more acts of rebellion to escape your confines. Because you’re in a situation where you always feel judged, you may lash out in different ways, especially in teenage years.

Sometimes you know that your actions will be without much consequence,

“What can daddy do to me sef, am I not the only child?”

As the only child you are the most likely to explore the unknown.


  • Final words

Look, there is no solution to being a first born, as it is not a problem. It is a God given position, so you have to act accordingly. Make that position your own.

There are studies that say FIBI are the most intelligent children. So there’s that. But remember this intelligence only comes from being able to teach your younger ones.

If you’re a parent that treats your first child in the ways I’ve mentioned, it doesn’t make you a bad parent. This life thing can be confusing at times, but hopefully a little understanding can make a difference.

Thanks for reading.


P/S Don’t forget to check out my Amazon page for books, comics and lots more content. Thanks for reading.



Happy new year my Princes and Princesses… It’s the year of the 6. We haven’t even gone through january and already..

Leonardo di Caprio has been raped by a bear,

the tallest building in the world is on fire


Real Madrid has finally found a coach that Ronaldo can’t disrespect.

As it’s a brand new year, I thought I’d try something different, so I hit the studio and mixed a track for you. It’s a love song, so you know I love you, and the lyrics are a bit crass, but so are you.

What I love about this song is it will either make you laugh or it will make you cry, but either way you get your money’s worth, because it’s absolutely free.

I call this one “Make her feel”

You can download the track here



P/S Don’t forget to check out my Amazon page for books, comics and lots more content. Thanks for reading. Feel free to Comment if you like. *smile emoji*



I am happy to announce Today’s Guest is a very talented fiction writer, poet, author and good friend, Anyadu. He is a patriot to the point of being an ardent culturalist. In fact,






He just got back from this year’s installment of the Ake festival some days ago, and he must have been re-ignited over there or something, because

He returned to bless us with this fire of a heartfelt short story called LOVING ANWULI
With only a few lines, he is able to present love in its deepest, innocent and most precious form.

As Anyadu boasts of numerous literary publications already, we are priviledged to give you this story, LOVING ANWULI as an exclusive

You can follow Anyadu on twitter @the_africanist and be sure to check out some other of his short stories at







We pretend.


We pretend we do not see each other. That we do not like each other. Occasionally, when our eyes meet… and hold, I am the one to flutter. There’s always this fearless energy in hers, like she’s daring me to come at her. Like she’s daring me to say something. I cannot confront it. And this is almost funny, because she’s never been the audacious one.

If anything, Anwuli is the class’ loner. Or she was this. For the better part of four years, she came to school shrouded in woollen sweaters. Her thick medicated spectacles bold upon the oval of her face like a giant billboard on an idle street. She was the girl who perused over old novels during free periods rather than chat about TV shows like everyone else.


But last term, when we came into SS2, she lost those glasses. And those awful sweaters. And began using a lip gloss. And started talking with Munachi and Daisy. About Kim Kardashian.
That was when I noticed the boys noticing her. And I noticed I noticed her. And she noticed me doing so.




There is no one to tell that I like Anwuli. Sometimes, I cannot even tell myself. When we talk, which is often rarely, I go home and think about her all day. Our conversations are always in sync. Like we are wired or something. Like we’ve known each other from a previous life.

Sometimes, I cringe when I think that she might say yes to some boy. Especially now that all the boys at school have their eyes on her. And then I wish things were simpler. I wish it wasn’t at all odd for girls who like each other to act on their feelings.

My aunty Dora is married, but she is also in a relationship with her friend. Mum knows about this and regularly chastises her over the phone. It shouldn’t be so, mum says. What is a woman giving you that your husband cannot give you? she asks.


I wonder if this will be I and Anwuli’s story someday. Groomed to conform; afraid to become anything other than society’s approximation of normal. And then from the comfort of our matrimonial homes, when we cannot anymore deceive ourselves, we would sneak into bed… and love… with one another. And have our sisters complain about it over the phone.