How Not To Forfeit A Promising Relationship by Folarin Olaniyi.

–          Do Not Be His Show Girl


Most single ladies make this mistake. You can never have a successful relationship with a guy without talking. Both of you have to talk, talk, and talk till it bores you.

Often times, guys prefer to show off their new girlfriend to their friends and foes. Then the lady becomes a show girl; today, Variety Nite and tomorrow, Dinner. Don’t get me wrong, shows would form a part of the happy moments in your relationship, but you must ensure it is not affecting the major pillar of every relationship which is communication.

With communication, both of you get to understand each other. You know his weaknesses and strong points, while he knows yours and your strong points. What can be more beautiful than this?


–          Let Him Know Your Feelings


    Guys are neither Fortune tellers nor magicians. We are not perfectand that is why most of our decisions if not protested against, will later bounce back on you.

When some ladies are angry, they prefer to keep mute and expect the guys to read their mind and toe the right path.

Definitely, guys can be very pathetic. Talking might not work, but keeping mute can puncture a guy’s ego and make him see things clearly.

But, I tell you, sincerely, this will only work when the guy knows that what he has done is wrong.

Speak out; make him see things, so that when he turns his back at you, you won’t have to protest.

Let him know your feelings as soon as possible but please and please, be civil for guys, most guys, are egocentric.


–          Do Not Get Back At Him

             All my life, I have been loyal to my girlfriends. Even when I discover that my girlfriend is going out with another guy, my loyalty to the relationship still remains unshakeable.

If you are the type that feels that going out with another guy to make your boyfriend jealous will solve the problem, then you are just being stupid. It is just like a warrior that runs from the war front and goes to the inner town tavern to drink away his worries.

Relationship is war; it is a game of power. And all games of power calls for the thirty seven strategies of war.

Getting back at him is like saying you are not sure of your capabilities in the relationship. It is like saying that the love you felt for him was mere infatuation. It is like saying you don’t know what you want.

–          Let Him Know You Are Sincerely Busy

              For every time I tell a girlfriend that I am busy, there is a sincere reason behind it. Why do you have to tell him you are busy when you are not?

A friend’s girlfriend told him she would be extremely busy the next day. When the next day would come, I saw this girl with another guy. What is she busy doing? Going out with another guy!

Before you date, you need to ask yourself some salient questions. Do I want him to be the guy or just a friend? Is he the type of guy I can count on? Can he boost my profile?


–             Go For The Goal

       Some ladies can go out with all the guys in the neighbourhood. Unfortunately, the right one will pass by but they will be busy frolicking with the dumb guy next door.

Relationship, just like every other game of life, is a game of risk. You cannot score two goals at the same time. If you are not willing to take the risk, in time you will be the one looking for a broad shoulder to cry on. I promise you.

But not to worry, I have a broad shoulder you can cry on only that you will have to pay per minute.



The Thing Inside Your Sokoto by Folarin Olaniyi


There are many faces. Bird-like ones. Tiger face. Cat face. Mother used to
say that those girls with cat faces are witches driven by cat spirits. And
they bring misfortunes unto their lover’s abode.

I love University of Ibadan girls, and they love themselves though not all
of them.

The first girl I chatted with on U.I soil was a slim dark balloon -cheek
chic I met in the University clinic.

Jaja clinic stood on plots of land, refusing to pose at the frontal
position of Queen’s hall.

The young Nurse had examined my blood pressure, then she would surrender a
test tube to my hands and direct her plump left of a hand towards my left

‘We need your thing.’

I peered down at my trousers and back again at the Nurse.

‘I do not have low sperm count_!’ I pronounced with all sincerity and

The three other Nurses and their students would laugh aloud. Some would
raise their left of a hand, another the right hands in excitement. Legs
went up. A student’s cheek blew up like a mechanically blown balloon.

‘I mean your Urine,’ the young Nurse clarified.

I did not laugh nor frown. Blank. The Nurses and those they were examining
would be looking at my back, like a family watching a popular comic soap
opera. Like Papa Ajasco.



‘Sorry,’ I uttered in haste.

I had unknowingly entered a female toilet’s room. A girl was inside. I
stood out in front of the toilet, peering at the test tube.

I would wait for the offended.

She came out, young, bright with a very long black hair like Yemoja. And
she wielded one of those faces mother detested – Bird-like face.

‘Sorry, em, for the other time.’

‘Don’t mention. Just look out for notices and instruction boards. It helps.
A lot!’

‘Sorry, one more time.’

She turned back sharply, as if I pinched her at the back of her dark neck,
and took a strange look at me. As if she is lampooning me.

‘Are you a one of those Christian brothers?’

‘At all?’

‘You are too polite. Who are you?’

‘Dapo. Hundred levels. Philosophy department.’

‘Nice! The name is Bolanle. Direct entry student in Philosophy department.’

‘Nice! Coincidence?!’

‘Hmn! Coincidence!’

‘Yes, it is. I also came for the mandatory medical screening.’

Bolanle and I became like Suya and slices of Onion, we would spice each
other. We would solve our problems like one and embrace our successes like
close friends would do.

Our relationship aggravated.

And I would know her, who she is in real terms. I never knew a woman’s
chest can take one to a journey that will demand thousands of hefty yam
tubers in appeasement to return from.

We were four in a room in Zik hall, University of Ibadan. Shady baby had
never summoned the courage to visit me. She detested Zikites. Only Bolanle

‘They are like shit! I don’t know why a _ fine boy! Fine boy like you would
be posted to Zik hall,’ Shady baby would complain as if University of
Ibadan knew who I was before they posted me to Zik hall.

Bolanle would prepare rice and stew, stocked with frozen fish and well
packaged in her customized Jesus-loves-You cooler. She would then knock on
my door, like a bird hungrily beating its beak on a wet bamboo, and I would
open the door.

Bolanle would not say greetings during this time. She would wait till the
last grain of her well cooked rice mixes with my saliva.

‘How was it?’

‘Delicious. I like it.’

Her dark bird-like face would squeeze like roughened sheet. I understood. A
peck from her forehead down to the sole of her legs would appease the dark

It was on one of these pecking exercises, fourth, that Bolanle grabbed my
body closer to hers. I then sucked her tongue. It was so sudden. The energy
was magical.

Bolanle was sitting on me, her buttocks directly on the thing inside my

I loosened her long black hair and fumbled with her breasts. My hands were
trembling as if I just carried a bag of beans. Saliva gulped down my
throat. I licked her left dark erect nipple with the same energy an
overflowing ice cream would demand. Then, she moaned and jerked her
buttocks on the thing inside my sokoto.