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It’s not as if we like fight or we can’t settle issues without throwing insult all over the place, but this one just had to happen.

My best friend and I were on our way to work and babes had to use the ATM asper she wanted to pay me money owed (which she still hasn’t paid). So we got to the Fidelity Bank on Diya road somewhere in Gbagada, the security man was trying to control traffic so we could park well… next thing GBOA!!!


One woman with two kids in her car who apparently wasn’t looking had hit the car’s derrière.

My girl, Tolu was still tryna park well so someone else won’t hit her.

“Tolu, come down!” I shouted, ready for a fight.

“Lemme park well”

Suddenly, one man from nowhere came to her window shouting at my girl to come down she didn’t answer him at first because she was still trying to park well, but then he started to hit her car window.

“Are you mad? Tolu said, giving him the “Are you mad sign”

My own blood was too hot for all this talk. I opened the car door and got down approaching the man threatening my friend. Tolu followed suit.

Meanwhile the woman at fault had parked beside us.

“How dare you say am I mad, do you know who I am?”, The man was shouting.

”Get the f##!” Tolu screamed back, “do you think I care who the fuck you are! so I was asking you if you were mad before now I’m telling you, you are mad!

I stood back looking at my girl handling the situation like a pro! I had never been so proud of her. I didn’t need to show my own craze.

A small crowd had gathered. All men! asking why Tolu said their friend is mad, the original issue completely forgotten.

“You don’t have manners! Is that how you talk to your husband?”

“Oga Ade please go and use that manner to collect money at the bank” I retorted.

“You better don’t talk to me anyhow”

“Please who are you sir? Who gives ten fucks who you are “, I replied

“I will slap you!”

“You will slap who?! Ah, you will not try it again in your life” I shouted, slapping my thighs like a typical yoruba woman

People were holding him back now.

“I will wound this girl o!”

“Wound me, wound me o, oya wound me!” I said moving closer to him. “I will show you who I am in this Gbagada. I will change it for you!”, I had switched to my local dialect here, and the words were spewing effortlessly.

My fellow readers let me say here that I could not change anything for anybody, I am nobody in Gbagada ! But I had to do small shakara,

The woman in question too came and was like “but you too should not have said he’s mad na”


Next thing this woman entered her car, reversed and drove off.

It never occurred to me or Tolu to occupy her car, the silly guys from the area had succeeded in distracting everyone from the issue at hand, focusing instead on their bruised ego.

That’s how she escaped o.

All the shouts and bragging for nothing.

We have her plate number sha, God will let me catch her one day!

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About the author

I am Titilola Edu Peperempe God, a Lawyer, freelance writer, a rice & stew enthusiast. I am passionate about God, growth and money (please don’t blame me). Sometimes I feel like I am the next best thing since slice bread, other times I know it.

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