Copyright
(C) 2015
Ilesanmi Iyanu Samuel
iyanuloluwa007@gmail.com


No part of this publication should be copied, unless through direct permission of the author


Growing up in the village was a very interesting experience,freedom from the hustling and bustling known with the city life, adventures and relative peace enjoyed

However, there is a unique life in the city which the village kid might at best come across in pictures and un verifiable tales, and such tales in several cases comes fully adulterated or intrinsically fictitious, for instance, when I was young, I was made to believe that on entering Lagos, three mystical statues welcomes you, each giving a clear warning; “Don’t slack, don’t be sluggish, get smart and witty”

Another terrible tale I believed was that the Atlantic Ocean (Omi Okun) and the Lagos Lagoon (Osa) fights dirty, the two never meets, and if you per chance pour them in same bottle, the bottle will break into pieces, no matter the strength of the material used, those are the days we consider people who go to Lagos as Kings!

When it comes to fabulous tales, I mean the lies that could possibly wake up Mahatma Ghandi from his grave, I was a Genius!, I had an undue advantage in that my Father visits Lagos regularly, something most parents of my friends do not, I would then imagine lies in my head and serve it in school next day, hot and sizzling

A friend reminded me of recent how I gave a testimony at a house fellowship organised for kids, where I had said that “I thank God for not allowing aeroplane to ‘Jam’ (Hit) my daddy” during his last trip to Lagos, Hallelluyah!!!

I also remember with nostalgia, how I relayed to my friends in school such films I never watched, as they do not exist anywhere else beyond my ‘lie fabricating mind’, I remember vividly telling them the ‘movies’ Jaguar, Advance team X, and The silly sniper, at a time when my father could NOT AFFORD A TV, when the only view I ever got was in a Church member’s house down the street, once in a red moon, for it used to be much longer than what could be expressed in terms of blue moon !

As a village boy, the first time I saw a ‘colour TV’ was in the midninety’s, when I saw a red bodied TV box in a family friend’s house, the TV was covered with a special lace material, not powered, I went home boasting to my siblings that I had seen a coloured TV, little did I know it was a Black and white, the only difference being that its casing wasn’t black like the others I had known

To be continued…

cc freeman my sureman
flow1759 my oga
mazi omenuko my chairman
lalasticlala
cuddlemii

Love Y'all

https://samueliyanu./2015/06/30/diary-of-a-regular-village-boydiary-of-a-regular-village-boy/

Wow

Oya make una come chuk mouth, i will not delay, kindly permit any typo that may appear, i will try my best to edit well, regards to all Literature section Gurus, Triple tuale for una

I am learning, so i welcome critiques, spell out my mistakes, i prefer constructive criticism to destructive sycophancy, thanks

Ten more comments and i will drop part two

Village boys do keep diaries too?? Interesting

vfactor:
Village boys do keep diaries too?? Interesting

Yes o, lol

Kontinu...d lies u are sharing....dia is God

Cooljoe1:
Kontinu...d lies u are sharing....dia is God

I have repented This is restitution

generaliy07:


Yes o, lol

OK na. Show us what u got!

CAVEAT: This story is Part Fiction and part true, The name (s) mentioned are never the real name(s) of the original characters (In non-fiction parts), any resemblance of names of people dead or alive, is a miracle, as it goes beyond coincidence

Thanks

generaliy07:
Copyright
(C) 2015
Ilesanmi Iyanu Samuel
iyanuloluwa007@gmail.com


No part of this publication should be copied, unless through direct permission of the author


Growing up in the village was a very interesting experience,freedom from the hustling and bustling known with the city life, adventures and relative peace enjoyed

However, there is a unique life in the city which the village kid might at best come across in pictures and un verifiable tales, and such tales in several cases comes fully adulterated or intrinsically fictitious, for instance, when I was young, I was made to believe that on entering Lagos, three mystical statues welcomes you, each giving a clear warning; “Don’t slack, don’t be sluggish, get smart and witty”

Another terrible tale I believed was that the Atlantic Ocean (Omi Okun) and the Lagos Lagoon (Osa) fights dirty, the two never meets, and if you per chance pour them in same bottle, the bottle will break into pieces, no matter the strength of the material used, those are the days we consider people who go to Lagos as Kings!

When it comes to fabulous tales, I mean the lies that could possibly wake up Mahatma Ghandi from his grave, I was a Genius!, I had an undue advantage in that my Father visits Lagos regularly, something most parents of my friends do not, I would then imagine lies in my head and serve it in school next day, hot and sizzling

A friend reminded me of recent how I gave a testimony at a house fellowship organised for kids, where I had said that “I thank God for not allowing aeroplane to ‘Jam’ (Hit) my daddy” during his last trip to Lagos, Hallelluyah!!!

I also remember with nostalgia, how I relayed to my friends in school such films I never watched, as they do not exist anywhere else beyond my ‘lie fabricating mind’, I remember vividly telling them the ‘movies’ Jaguar, Advance team X, and The silly sniper, at a time when my father could NOT AFFORD A TV, when the only view I ever got was in a Church member’s house down the street, once in a red moon, for it used to be much longer than what could be expressed in terms of blue moon !

As a village boy, the first time I saw a ‘colour TV’ was in the midninety’s, when I saw a red bodied TV box in a family friend’s house, the TV was covered with a special lace material, not powered, I went home boasting to my siblings that I had seen a coloured TV, little did I know it was a Black and white, the only difference being that its casing wasn’t black like the others I had known

To be continued…

cc freeman my sureman
flow1759 my oga
mazi omenuko my chairman
lalasticlala
cuddlemii

Love Y'all

https://samueliyanu./2015/06/30/diary-of-a-regular-village-boydiary-of-a-regular-village-boy/

i greet you

flow1759:



i greet you

Bros i hail!

Next to the said Joy in heaven over a repentant sinner is the joy we felt whenever Rice was the menu for dinner, myself and my sisters would literally start a music concert, turning every thing that could make sounds into drums and acoustics, it is actually the only time we agree on every issue, no quarrels, its a good day, WE ARE EATING RICE TONIGHT!

Although it was always the type of rice we called “ibile”, or local, for only the middle and the upper class village families that could afford ‘aroso’ (The parboiled rice), it gave us great joy nevertheless, I discovered later in life that this rice is a special,more expensive delicacy in the city, popularly called Ofada.

There is usually an undeserved edge which city boys have over their village pears, it is in getting ladies to friend them, the mere sight of a “Lagos boy” will attract those village girls like ants are attracted to sugar.

I remember vividly a certain wayward young man whose parents decided to bring to the village as a form of rehabilitation, for he was spoil beyond measure in the city of Lagos, Bros Timmy (So he was called),Bros Timmy was always every where in town, he could get any girl to his bed, no matter how “stubborn” she is.

Bros Timmy it was, who told a girl his father actually owns a 65 story building in Oklahoma, USA, it was the first time the girl or anyone else among us heard Oklahoma, and the girl was so carried away, to get a girl talking, he would mention certain names of states in the US.

On a certain day, Bros Timmy’s dad came to school to see the principal, immediately he left, Bros Timmy told everyone that cared to listen that the man who came was one of his Father’s many drivers, everyone swallowed the lie hook, line and sinker!

Bros Timmy was a grand master in the art of ‘toasts’, a particular love letter he wrote read “from the garden of love, under the three which refuses to bear mangoes apples or grapes, but rather grows love, I write with my silver pen this hour to a DAMSEL who occupies my heart like the towers of BABEL!”
He then quoted some verses from the book of Solomon to buttress his point

He could make a girl believe anything, including that he was going to build a big shop for her mother in the city as soon as possible, once his dad comes back from Philadelphia, after he might have left Oklahoma, he would get enough cash to do just that.

Nemesis however was not too patient with Bros Timmy, a certain day around December, seven girls with their parents (Or guardian as the case may be) came knocking on his grandma’s door,Bros Timmy had put the girls in the family way!

https://samueliyanu./2015/06/30/diary-of-a-regular-village-boy-part-2/

generaliy07:

I have repented This is restitution

berra...

continue bro....am a certified village buoi from the east

ideatoprince18:
continue bro....am a certified village buoi from the east

Thank you, oya invite your friends to read

nice one bro...