I’ve had writers block..
I have neither felt like writing nor reading
I’d rather just laze around and pass the bulk
Usually I’m the guy who hates time to go wasting
But for a while now I’ve been in limbo, feeling like a numbskull
Somewhere deep down though , I know I’m a genius in the making
I just need my priorities right, and my eye on the clock
Because I must say, time flies and moments are fleeting..
The other day, I was at a bar, I had decided not to go to work
i sat in an exclusive area, and went about my drinking
soon the nigerian football match would be on,i muttered a prayer for good-luck
a few tables away, i overheard three men talking,
they were talking money, business and an oil-block
my ears pricked, my ears strained, and there i was , eavesdropping
one of them had done a clandestine favor for some top political official in Aso rock
after several years, the favor had been returned,thanks to his persistence and pestering..
the favor had been returned in form of an oil-block,you can imagine my shock..
This was more than blood money, this was like piling money in a room with no ceiling
he was contemplating selling it off for half a billion dollars with some luck,
he did not want to be involved in the stress of exploration and drilling
his friends were advising him to involve foreign investors, and they would pay in bulk
They of course knew a couple of foreign investors, who would be willing..
i was enthused , as i gradually sipped from my cup
making conversions from dollars to naira kept my mind racing
i wish i had some more spunk
perhaps i should have paid for what they were drinking
and made friends with the flock
anywayz i did not, no point lamenting or regretting
a few months later , here i was again at the same bar sipping from a similar cup..
my eyes caught sight of a newspaper with bold markings
some guy had been killed with a car bomb..
a wealthy businessman recently known in the circles of investing,
Rumor had it that he got into a disagreement with some scum
he reneged on an agreement, got paid and did not offer them a farthing..
so i pondered, asking myself what could the agreement be? an effin bomb!!
And then i flipped the page, and right there was a picture of the man with his wife and kids, smiling
it was the man i had seen at the bar a few months back, with all that talk of money, his face had stuck
Gradually , it occurred to me what might have happened, now my head was spinning..
Perhaps he decided to sell after-all, and those his friends felt cheated. He was killed for selling his oilblock!!
Wow, to think i had seen this from its beginning..
Imagine how much info could be spilled at a pub..
Well as a good citizen i could go to the cops and tell them my piece,and help identify the villains..
But like my friends will tell you, i’d rather be in a room with some hawttie, than with a noose around my head, or a bullet in my skull..
So i figured i’d tell it as a story, on my blog, and perhaps teach people to not be greedy. i hope they’re learning
better to be a broke hustler alive than a bloody rich dude blown to pieces by some bomb