It has occurred to me that I Afam, being incalculably talented am more than capable of delving into the exceedingly dandy and foppish waters of fashion blogging. You see, I was having fun on the internet when I stumbled on Lanre Aluko's blog. It really is something for I stayed enraptured for the better part of a whole day. I was so intrigued that I found myself plugging his blog almost as much as I plugged my own. The things he wears are just so comment inspiring that I could not help myself. I had the distinct pleasure of taking a photograph of him when we both attended Bez' Super Sun concert in Eko Hotel.

At the very least he commands your attention.

If you would like to see more then visit his blog where he documents the hustle of being a fashion blogger, stylist, singer, song writer and personal shopper one interesting outfit at a time. His outfits are usually so interesting that the eye never knows where to settle. It is a rather stimulating experience.

http://lanrealuko.blogspot.co.uk/

After taking a good look at his blog I had the following conversation with myself.

Enter Fam and Afam

Fam: We can do this can't we?


Afam: Of course we can. To suggest otherwise would be sacrilege. We have some questionable days but we aren't that terrible are we?

Fam: No. We clean up nicely once we set our minds to it.

Afam: And if we look horrible?

Fam: Then we look horrible. We'll go down in a blaze of glory.

Afam: If I'm to agree to it, then we must always take our pictures in the elevator or standing on the side of the road hailing imaginary taxis for the sake of standing on the side of the road hailing imaginary taxis.

Fam: I quite agree. That would give the rather favourable impression that we're extremely busy. We mustn't do it like this:
While Ripsticking during the christmas holidays in the Lagos sun, I thought it apt to wear something both practical and dare I say it fashionable! Oh you don't know what Ripsticking is? Have no fear for Afam's here! A Ripstick is a little bit like a cross between a skateboard and a bicycle. Once you push off your feet never need leave the deck because you propel yourself by wriggling your hips forward and backwards. I wore a pair of Dolce and Gabana glasses that I quite like. I like them because I do not have any choice but to like them. As I am both miopic and astigmatic, wearing glasses isn't really choice for me. Without them I would probably have walked into the back of a rubbish van by now. The t-shirt is from Ralph Lauren, and I can practically hear your question. Why was he wearing a dark t-shirt while playing in the sun in the tropics? It was for fashion god dammit! I finished off the look with a statement pair of reddish pink shorts from John Lewis and a pair of black plimsolls from Lacoste. It is incredibly obvious that my passion for fashion burns more brightly than a thousand suns put together.

Afam: Oh God! That's terrible.

Fam: It is indeed.

Afam:Yes. I'm disappointed that you even dared think it.

Fam: I'm sorry it shan't happen again.

Afam: And the outfit was so practical that it made my stomach churn.

Fam: It will be more fabulous next time, I swear it. Are we in agreement?

Afam: Yes, we stand as one.

And that was how I talked myself into becoming a fashion guy.

Happy Days,
Afam

Happy April Fools Day

We've got a rather serious morning ahead of us I'm afraid. You see, quite recently Rick Ross released a song called U.O.E.N.O where he rapped,

A new opportunity has arisen for you louts to do some good in the world. As most of you are incredibly practical you are shockingly incapable of doing anything good without getting something tangible in return. I, Afam have gone out of my way yet again to present you with another chance to be charitable. Did you know that Malaria kills a child every 45 seconds?

Jack Wills, has been a significant partner of the charity Malaria No More UK, since 2011. They raise money through the sale of two rather stylish bracelets made in South Africa by the not for profit social enterprise Relate, a United Against Malaria partner. All profits from the sale of the bracelets go to the charity Malaria No More UK. As someone who suffers from Malaria repeatedly, I can confirm that it is a cause worthy of your coin.

(I seem to have a natural affinity for the illness. At some point in my adolescent years I would get it at least once a year, every year, without fail at the end of rainy season. It was like clockwork. When diagnosed and treated early, it isn't very serious at all. Left untreated, it very quickly morphs into a hydra like beast that is quite capable of claiming a life. It isn't a thing to be trifled with.)

It can be yours now for £5 by clicking on this sentence. Click. What harm can it do?

It can be yours for £5 now by clicking on this differently coloured line. Don't be a wimp. Click.

Happy Days,

@zephiaovia @afam20 thanks so much for your support!
— Malaria No More UK (@malarianomoreuk) March 29, 2013

I'm currently sat at my table in my studio in Student Castle, the building I live in.

It is a rather nice building. I dare say that it is the best I have lived in since I moved to Manchester four years ago.

The view's awesome if nothing else. The building still has the rather awful habit of turning off the boiler without telling anyone.

After typing that it suddenly dawned on me that four years is a rather long period of time to endure the truly ghastly weather conditions that Manchester has to offer. It is always raining and this in itself isn't a problem because I, afam love the rain. There's a certain je ne sais quoi about it that agrees with my muchness. But the rain in Manchester is hardly ever heavy enough for it to be enjoyable. I want to be beaten senseless by it not tapped lightly on the shoulder. I want to hear the rain pound against the aluminum roofing sheets. I want to be lulled to sleep by the consistency of the thunderous noise. I want it to pour for two hours and then I want the weather to change because a day of rain is too boring to be encouraged by words. Ah! I see. I'm homesick. The band, Toto knew what they were talking about when they sang,

What can I say? Mama Afam always comes through with that emergency jollof rice. She is superior.

Kilon Sparkles!

For those of you who do not speak Yoruba, a fairly popular language in West Africa, the above phrase means "what is sparkling?" On second thought kilon sparkles doesn't make for a very nice introduction for if anyone asked me what it was that was sparkling 4 years ago, my answer would have been my underwear. You see, 2008 was a very difficult time for me. While my mates were getting tongue piercings and tattoos behind their ears I felt that the best form of rebellion was that which occurred behind zips and trousers. If it was not more luminescent than a mirror ball then it was quite unworthy of housing the Afam jewels for the day. For how would the jewels know how important they were to me if they were not wrapped in materials vaguely reminiscent of the golden lamé shorts made popular by Rocky in the Rocky Horror Picture Show?


I think I'll have to put more work into finding my own unique opening phrase. It is only apt that I sneak in a sneaky thanks to Bobo Omotayo, the writer of London Life, Lagos Living.

It should come as no surprise to you that the actual content of the post has little or nothing to do with the sparkly nature of my underwear. The truth is that I, Afam have just had a little bit of an epiphany. By now you must all know that I, am not and have never been a great dancer. I find it immensely difficult to maintain any sort of control over the greater part of my body parts simultaneously. If by some miracle I manage to perform some skillfull moves with my legs then it is incredibly likely that my head will vibrate like I was in the throes of an epileptic fit. It is because of this intrinsic deficiency that I have enrolled in a number of dance classes. Why is it so serious you ask? Well, I, Afam will tell you. As I have not yet mastered the mysterious art of maintaining the greater part of my hearing in clubs, I am altogether incapable of chatting anyone up, for a conversation littered with "pardons, sorries and could you please repeat thats" is never a great help in stimulating the nethers of anything. Not even a goat will be stirred by those offerings. I have no other choice but to expresss my need for coupledom with my mating dance.

The dance classes have been incredibly beneficial because they have made me at least 2 parts more flexible than I was in the past. I am now so flexible that I am quite capable of doing an imperfect split when very very drunk. It isn't worth the pain to attempt it sober. I would wager that it isn't worth the pain attempting it drunk but drunken Afam has always been a little bit of an over achiever. After a heavy night out I can be seen limping through the streets of Manchester. Is it not tragic?

Even though the dance classes have been rather successful, their success pales in comparison to that of my bi weekly swimming sessions. I was simply delighted to discover that swimming is a great way to improve your back flexibility and your winding and grinding skills. Now, in swimming there is this thing called the butterfly kick. It is the most common stroke in swimming because you do it after you dive for the front crawl, breast stroke, butterfly and you do it upside down when you do the back stroke. If you were to perform this move on land your body rolls up and down like some sexy, sexual predator siren of a mermaid. This is exactly the sort of thing you need on the dance-floor. It says, "a little less conversation, a little more action please." Granted, you might end up with a nymphomaniac but this is always and everywhere a good thing.

 Happy Days,
Afam

I, Afam am not faultless. In fact, I have so many faults that if I dwelt on them all I would be driven mad by them. One of these is the intense spirit of competition that blogging stirs within my breast. I am fairly aggressive about the blog. I cannot tell you why this is, but it seems to have something to do with the fact that the thing I would most like to do flickers and wavers in front of me like the smoke from a candle. It is so fickle that if I do not reach for it with  my arms, feet and tongue I shall never hold even a tendril of it in my grasp. I cannot afford to be complacent. As such it shouldn't shock you that when another blogger rises from the same catchment area as I, I am most displeased. My feelings toward them border on the criminally insane.

It pleases me to say that I have made progress for I came across a new blog that didn't light even one competitive fire in my belly. In fact I was rather deflated by it. You see, I expected to feel some sort of burning passion within my chest but all I could muster was the sort of apathy I have for the pubic hairs I shed in the shower.

The blog in question is called The Brat Pack of Naija. The title makes me smile a little. It makes me smile the way I smile at those less evolved than I. Yes, it makes me smile the way I smile at Captain Reginald when he smells the arse of another dog. The blog features pictures of and from the so called brats of naija. There are two problems with this. The first is if anyone featured isn't actually a brat then it's libel isn't it? The second is that several of the pictures were nicked from people's instagram accounts and used in a way that is both unethical and invasive. And even if the former don't matter to the blogger, it is still copyright infringement.

(I Assume that Lady BP stands for Lady Brat Pack… Why anyone would include brat in their title is beyond me. Does he/she not know that brat is only one letter removed from rat and a subtle reminder to everyone with even a fraction of anything remotely resembling good sense that he/she is a petulant nincompoop in need of a good spanking?)


Lady BP, I Afam have seen you.

Happy Days,
Afam

On the 19th of March M.I Abaga, the self proclaimed Mr. Incredible visited the Beat 99.9 Fm studios where he debuted his new single, Chairman from his new so far untitled album. He was interviewed by Olisa before he went on air and he confirmed that his album would be out before the end of June. It's a rather entertaining interview filmed by the fastest rising video guy in Nigeria, Rainbow Joe. I know this may sound like an impossible and irresponsible statement to make, but how does one film the likes of Olisa and M.I within hours of creating his youtube channel? I suspect that this very liberal Rainbow Joe has just returned from a long spell abroad and has set his sights quite firmly on dominating the Nigerian entertainment scene.

Ps. There's something you might have missed in the sentence above. You must ask yourselves how I came to the conclusion that the hepta-coloured Rainbow Joe must be very liberal indeed. I shall not spell it out for you. 

Enjoy the edited version,



 

And for those of you die hard M.I fans, I Afam have also obtained the unedited version which is a whole 5 minutes longer than the edited version. Am I not great?




Do not forget who brought it to you first. I am Afam, I am mad, and I have vanquished all bloggers and vagrants to bring you the scoop on M.I's latest album which will have 13-15 songs on it. Fear me.

Happy Days,
Afam

Greetings Famzers, it appears that I Afam have fumbled and bumbled my way unto a blogging win.

Apologies for it has just occurred to me that some of you may not know what the Pikachu a Famzer is. Do not worry for I Afam am exceedingly good natured. I shall cure you of your ignorance. A famzer is anyone who reads the blog. There, I said it. If you would like to know more about this, then click on the link below.
http://www.theramblingsofamadman-afam.com/2013/01/notes-on-metal-garrurumon-famz-and.html 

In the blogging world, infinitely tiny blogs such as mine must contend with the blogging juggernauts of the world for views. Because the super massive blogs have first dibs on news, we infinitesimally tiny blogs can only adapt what those stupendously large blogs have written about this and that or such and such or provide commentary on what other more famous writers have written.

Let it be known that on Friday the 22nd of March, precisely one month before my 23rd birthday, I Afam beat out Bella Naija, Ynaija, Linda Ikeji and every other blog run by a Nigerian.

We all know that the very good Nigerian rapper M.I debuted the first track of his new album three days ago on the Beat 99.9 Fm. The Beat 99.9 Fm is quite possibly the only radio station in Nigeria worth listening to. Most of the others are very likely to give you an aneurism. Some of you might have heard him introduce the track but none of you have seen him introduce it. Yes, I Afam have obtained the footage from a certain Rainbow Joe on youtube. Why any grown man would name himself after a rainbow is beyond me, I imagine that he must have a rather colourful personality. The video also features radio stars, Maria and Olisa. Enjoy!!




And below lies the song that was introduced, Chairman. In all honesty I'll probably never listen to the entire song when I'm in control of the music. Perhaps you'll have better luck with it.




Happy Days,
Afam

@afam20 is it d original clip u dnt like, or d fact dt its been branded on so many tees, or there re lots of not so hilarious pics of it?
— Bobby Ezidi (@datsbobby) March 20, 2013

 It just occurred to me that many of you might wonder why I, Afam did not categorically comment on the video below.
Yes, it seems like the sort of thing I'd do doesn't it? Contribute my ascerbic wit and lofty manner to the very public skewering of Mr. Obafaiye Shem the Lagos State Commandant of the Nigerian Security and Civil Defence Corp (NSCDC). If you thought I would then you don't know me very well. There's no fun to be had kicking a dog while its down. Furthermore, being the last straw that breaks the donkeys back is never in anyone's best interests, because all you're left with is a broken donkey. And you know what happens to broken donkeys don't you? We put them out of their misery. A single shot to the head. It's as good a way for any to go.

I was not at all surprised by Mr Shem's performance. You see, after spending the vast majority of my life in Nigeria, I am no longer surprised when I come across a Nigerian that isn't well spoken. It no longer tickles my nethers. It doesn't excite my innards and inspire eruptions of laughter. There was a time in the past when I would have thought it incredibly hilarious but I, Afam am physically incapable of laughing at the same joke for a decade. And when he speaks marginally less well than the president and infinitely better than the first lady, he is to be praised, not scolded or mocked.

Him not knowing what the NSCDC website is doesn't make him any better or worse at his job. The only thing that can be gleaned from this is that he was ill prepared. Lastly we must thank the Channels team for being the height of propriety and paragons of professionalism. No, the last bit was sarcastic. Do you mean to tell me that three people from the Channels television show, Sunrise Daily interviewed the good sir and we still don't know who the Oga (Master) at the top is? How spectacular!

Happy Days,
Afam.

Note:
 Here's what one incredibly well spoken Anonymous commenter had to say about it:

"I disagree with this post. Its not the fact that his vocabulary was poor that's the problem and its not even so much the fact that he knew nothing about websites, talk more of that of the nscdc. The problem is the lying and attempted deceit. He could easily have said he wasn't in the position to answer but because he'd already told so many lies in the earlier parts of the interview about "gadgets" and plans the nscdc has to change this and that, he couldn't possibly confess that he didn't even know the website. It shows the height of corruption, the fact that he kept blatantly trying to lie about it and it gives insight to how he carries out his job. When in a tight spot, lie and deceive your way out. Its not a problem we should "get used to" its a problem we should try to weed out of our economy even if it means using him as a scape goat to scare a bit of honesty into others like him. If for nothing else, at least that they may stop disgracing the nation."

I agree wholeheartedly with our nameless friend but I wouldn't say that she has disagreed with me, I think she's just added greater scope to the argument. So should Mr Shem be skewered because he doesn't speak well and because he doesn't know what the website of the NSCDC is? No. But, if he is a lying and deceitful charlatan currently employed by the tax payer then he should not only be skewered but deep fried like a kebab. Whichever way you look at it, I feel that people should come to see that there is nothing about it that is funny.

It is March. I'm sorry for stating the obvious but I feel that it's important to mention that even though I'm an April chap, March is just as important. March is so important, that I appear partially naked on the University of Manchester Society Calendar. I give you permission to admire my exceptionally formidable form. Yes, they call me handsome... at least Captain Reginald (my rottweiler) does.

Mr March

For those of you who are new, you must be aware that I Afam, am not real. I am only the brain child of one extraordinarily ordinary University student. As such I am destined to remain as he imagined me for all eternity. I was quite happy with this state of affairs until fairly recently. It was in sometime in September when I met her, my muse, my mind companion, my foreskin. She was so delightfully weird that I couldn't possibly confine her to the back of my mind. The part of my mind where I send things to die or be permanently erased. You see, I Afam have a monumental problem, it is so transcendental that I feel that it might be the death of me. I am terrible with names and faces but it's no fault of mine. It is the fault of those who say "hello", "how's it going" "I am so and so, or such and such" without considering that it might be vital to say something memorable to be remembered. I perform that routine so often that I can reenact it perfectly in my sleep. If that is all you say to me how can I possibly be expected to recall? Furthermore I have an unfortunate tendency to be quite significantly under the influence at the vast majority of these gatherings. Is the task you place in front of me not insurmountable? I am fairly certain that in the days to come I may be assaulted by those I do not remember, not for the fact that I do not remember them but for the nonchalance I display when I falter.

As you might imagine, the chappette that I speak of is not one to confine herself to the dredges of such normalcy. The impression she made one me was so great that even if I desired it I could not exorcise her; I could not lobotomize her from my head. That is not to say that she is my life and my world and my hopes and my dreams, it is to say that the part of my mind where she resides is undoubtedly the Elysium. I cannot say that her absence from it would turn it into the fields of Asphodel, but I would rather she remained there (in Elysium) indefinitely.

It is for this reason that I made the trip to London for her 21st. Hopping down to London may seem like no significant feat but let me assure you, it is. I am Afam not a nabob. Me going down to London is vaguely similar to Lawrence of Arabia's capture of Aqaba in the Arab Revolution during the first world war. Such is the financial burden. I don't mean to trivialize the efforts of Lawrence but you mustn't forget that I am permanently and incurably addled. It isn't my fault.

Upon my arrival in London I was met by my entourage, BFG, Dada, Jafaar and Akaba. Every young man must have an entourage. An entourage is a fundamental component of the bachelor experience. To be without one is to be a wolf without a pack. While it is possible for a lone wolf to succeed in bringing down its prey, it is infinitely more efficient when he is surrounded by his pack. We were sorely aware of the absence of one of our members, Ser Mbakwe first of his name Heartsbane who has gone ahead of us to lands both untested and untried and we dealt with this the only way we knew how. We pulled all our memories together and acted like he was there somewhere, just out of sight.

Even though we were all incredibly well dressed, I have to admit that Akaba outdid us all. His tuxedo was a thing of beauty and because I do not wish to ever be outdone on all matters of dress I have already made calls to the company that tailored the suit, East & Lester.  I will likely have to obtain parental assistance to procure the suit but a good suit is not only an investment but an incentive to maintain your form. If you have spent a greater sum than £300 on a suit or blazer you're unlikely to allow yourself any form of horizontal expansion.

We waited for a little while as is customary at these things. If she had walked out looking any less than she was it is likely that I would have written that the principles of Nigerian time cannot be restrained by geographical boundaries (and they can't!! In Nigeria it isn't better late than never it is better late than ever. The worst sin you could possibly commit is punctuality.) but when I saw her I forgot about the wait. I forgot the fear and trepidation I felt when I discovered that I'd been put on the same table as Marty for there isn't a bottle of wine safe when Marty is around. Whenever he is about there is bound to be a scarcity; so great is his need. She had appeared, like Narcissus' reflection staring back at him. And if she appeared in my bathroom mirror or some private pool that I frequented I would stare at her eternally. But because we were in public I averted my gaze and hoped that the memory of her would be forever imprinted there, free from the hands of time and disease.

Happy Days,
Afam

Friends, frenemies, enemies, frefoes, foes, comrades and famzers, we have come so monumentally far in such an unbelievably short period of time. You will no doubt be infinitely surprised that my ramblings have to date earned me thirty-two pounds and 43 pence. I'm sure that some of you will read this figure and giggle for it is so tiny that it is hardly worth boasting about. In fact you could go as far as to infer that he would boast of earning a mere £32 from 8 months of work must be mad. You would be right. I am mad.

I know that Toyin lived in Gbagada, and that was all very well and good but Toyin was no show stopper of a tune. Toyin was the filler material in between the two songs that you loved. It was the song that stopped you from changing the radio channel not the song that forced you to tune into one. This isn't a bad thing at all, not every song can be the single. Some are destined to be filler material for the album.

When they released Selecta some time in December, Onos O the music guy for Bella Naija said,

"DRB Lasgidi take an experimental stab at Dubstep on their official second single, “Selecta”. Fresh L, TeeZee and Boj are also assisted by the “Ghetto” crooner, Shank on this one."

Bull shit! It may be experimental but it isn't dub step. It is a rager, a banger, a CHUNE!!! When the beat drops and the creepy voice in the background instructs you to give them, you're not chilling in your mates apartment partaking of hashish as you are wont to do when you listen to dubstep; you are giving them!! Yes!! Your body is doing things that you neither understand nor care about because the need to move is so pressing that you cannot control yourself.


When I say I'm going home for the holidays, you mustn't look at me with pity because you imagine that I'm going to some third world country where the poverty is so apparent that it puts a depressing light on everything. You must look at me with envy because I'm going to a place where the summer never ends; where the party quite literally never ends.

It was at this juncture that I thought it would be best if I conferred with the queen of all Lagosian paroles (Paroles are the movements we make on a night out. Any Lagosian twenty something knows that a night with only one parole is hardly a night at all. There must be paroles!! From Churascos, we must go to Sip, and from Sip we must go to Likwid where we will be pushed around, may enter gutters and may be shot at but it's still all good; from Likwid we must go to Radisson Blue and from there we must go back to Likwid.)

Enter Afam and Fiki

Afam: Fiki, can I ask you a couple of questions about the selecta video?

Fiki: Pants! You just distracted me from my Ruzzle game against Goriola.

Afam: But we all know that it isn't necessary to complete all three rounds to beat Goriola.

Fiki: Point well made.

Afam: So what did you think about the video?

Fiki: It was beyond sick. It captured the best of the Lagos cruise.

Afam: You would know wouldn't you.

Fiki: That's all I have time for today I'm afraid. Goodbye.

The dismissal was the verbal equivalent of a spear through my heart.

Because some of you haven't got the benefit of decent enough internets that you can watch the video without smashing your device, I, Afam, the benevolent, will describe to you the events that took place in the video.

One day, while driving on a road that wasn't or isn't quite a road, the boys of DRB Teezee, Fresh L and Boj spotted a group of hot Mamas who had broken their classic Benz. It is likely that driving on such an uncivilized road is the very thing that broke the Benz but they are women, so we'll forgive them.


 As they are not lacking in chivalry, the lads decided to pull over and discover what tragedy could possibly have befallen the poor damsels.

Teezee: Why are you standing outside your car like that? Are you trying to pull a Megan Fox on us?

Boj: Yes, they were standing outside so provocatively to seduce us.

Girls: No, the bucket of bolts has broken down. :-(

FreshL: It's okay. I know a thing or two about the fixing of cars. Let me take a look at it.
Fresh L: You car appears to need a few taps. I'll just prod around, without doing much at all and it'll be as good as new in no time.

Girl: I cannot thank you enough. If you do what you've promised, I'll see that you're well rewarded. ;-)

Teezee: You better hurry up and fix this thing buddy. I need that reward. It's been too long since my last reward.

Fresh L: Wasn't that two days ago?

Teezee: Two days too long.





 Boj: Boys!!!! to the banter wagon!!!

Teezee: My jeans are falling down.

Fresh L: Why you no wear belt

Teezee: Shut up there. Even with me beltless you have carried last.




Fresh L: But I am trying!!

 Fresh L: Right Ho!! Pedal to the metal Boj!!



 Girl 1: We've finally made it to the dock.

Girl 2: But why did you promise them anything?

Girl 1: I didn't think they would chase us for this long.

Girl 3: I kind of like being chased. It makes my inner goddess say Oh my!!

Girl 2: Inner goddess? Has someone been reading a little too much 50 shades?

Girl 3: I think Boj might be my Christian.

Girl 1: Run faster!! They would have caught us by now if they hadn't stopped for a change of clothes.

 Teezee: Damn they're getting into a boat.

Fresh L: It's cool, Mr Alex is just round the corner. He's pulling up now.

Boj: How did Mr Alex know where we were?

Fresh L: Oh that... He shadows me on water. You never know when a high speed water get away might be needed.

 Boj: Enough chat! put your backs into it.
Fresh L: Good job guys we made it. After them Boj!! In the mean time, my legs are cramping. I think I'll spread them out.

Teezee: I think I'll join you. I'm much too old for this.

This is a brilliant t-shirt. I want! I want! There's a Walk the Moon reference somewhere there.

 Dekunle Abudu: Teezee you bad guy. I know what you are doing. I see you.

Teezee: The eye sees not itself.
 Boj: So you've finally come to daddy and stopped running.

Girl: I'm a little bit of a runs girl. I had to make sure that you were in it for the long haul.

Boj: FreshL and Teezee you guys are lagging behind.

Teezee: I know. But my baby has disappeared yet again.

Fresh L: She seems to have escaped to the beach.

 Teezee: I see. I will catch you by force. Today na today. You no go escape.

 Fresh L: Story Man. Can't you see that they've stopped running.



And so it was that all the boys of DRB walked off into the Lagosian sunset with the girls of their dreams.


Happy Days,
Afam

 Let us imagine for a second (or even a fraction of a second) that I did not change the colour of my hair for the good of those less fortunate than I. For those of you who wonder about the nature of a man who would alter the good work done by the proclivities of genetic exchange and God (or whoever you believe might have put us here, The Big Bang, L. Ron Hubbard, Thetans etc.) let it be known that the hair has helped raise £886 for the benefit of the Ellen MacArthur Trust who do such great work that the very thought of them fills my heart with equal parts of cheer and sorrow.

Now where was I? The problem with digressing is that I often forget where it is that I was. Yes, I remember now. For the sake of entertainment, let us assume (like so many have already assumed) that I, Afam being a man-child didst most solemnly conclude that my so brown it looked black mop of hair was dull, drab and so wholly uninteresting that it was tragically unworthy of a head as spectacular as mine.

My head is truly a thing of wonder. The circumference of my forehead is so large that I often think of selling it to Vodafone or British Airways that I might pay the debts I have accrued over the course of my life. It is not an easy thing for Champagne to live off Cider income.

If this explanation doesn't suit you then you can imagine that I, Afam recently became a SUPER SAIYAN.

The Dragon Ball Z Character, Goten as a Super Saiyan

Me (Afam). One thing you must learn about the nature of Super Saiyans is that they are incapable of doing anything without screaming. In any given 20 minute episode of Dragon Ball Z where these Super Saiyans appear, you are guaranteed at least 15 minutes of screaming.

 Skip ahead to 3:54. I have no words.

At first I was rather ashamed of my head. I'm sure that the bulk of you are surprised that I who drink too much, talk too loud and am undoubtedly and incurably addled can feel shame but Super Saiyans are people too. We cry sometimes when we lose our voices. In those early days I covered my golden tresses and considered shaving my beard.



Even though I was fairly critical of it I didn't quite like it when other people were

Enter Afam and G-Sama

G-Sama: Fam, what have you done to your head?

Afam: (Cringing internally) How good of you to notice old chap. I bleached it.

G-Sama: Good Heavens! I almost mistook you for Djibril Cisse, Dennis Rodman, Chris Brown, Donald Ofik or some other such character.

Afam: Did you now? You compliment me so.

G-Sama: Did I strike a nerve?

Afam: Who knows? I do not believe that I have any nerves that can be struck by you.

G-Sama: Guffaw! Is this a temporary thing or is it the new you?

Afam: It is temporary but I have heard a lot of good things about it from my friends so I might keep it.

G-Sama: The devil is a liar! You mustn't listen to them.


You see, the people that go out of their way to tell me that they don't think it's me, or it doesn't suit me or that they don't like it, inspire a mini revolution inside me. I desire nothing save the power to break all chains that bind me. Furthermore the colour of my hair has got everything to do with me and nought to do with anyone else so as long as my head doesn't grow Medusa like snake heads and bite anyone in the buttocks reserve all comment lest I give you a strict lesson in the good of charity. I am in the spring time of my youth and as such, dyeing my hair is the least permanent, least damaging thing I can do. You must remember that I, Afam am only two scores and two and I have no tattoos or piercings, so cut me some slack.

Being blonde has filled me with such flights of foppishness and dandyism that I am incapable of stepping into the great outdoors without looking like anything but a spectacle. One of my famzers, Chiz saw me on campus and exclaimed while gasping for breath, "OOOOOOOH that boy is so scandalous"



I agree. #AfamForTheLadies

Happy Days,
Afam

150 Posts Famzers!!! Can you believe it? I certainly can't! To say that you my dear readers (my friends, frenemies and enemies) are amazing would be the understatement of the year. You have been phenomenal. You are legendary! Because you have been so good to me, reading, retweeting and liking and sharing every thing that I put up. And those of you that haven't read and retweeted and liked and shared perhaps because you don't quite like the blog have never complained to me about my unbelievable social media presence. For this, you have my undying, unwavering love and gratitude. We've come so far in such a short period of time that I am moved to tears and emotional upheaval as I write this.

To reward you for your remarkable behaviour I am going to give away 2 Bengo belts. I initially blogged about the Bengo belt here:Introducing Bengo Belts

Bengo belts are meticulously woven by women in the Guatemalan mountains. They are the best way I know of to spice up a dull pair of chinos or a plain pair of jeans. They are indispensable. You might not know this yet, but the moment you own one you will wonder how it is that you didn't get one sooner. I, Afam, am giving you the chance to win not one, but two, if you are especially lucky.

Behold the aptly named bright belt

And this one is the just as aptly named suede belt

If you do not fancy your odds, then you may skip the competition and purchase a belt here: http://bengobelts.com/product-category/belts/

To qualify you must do the following things

1. Like the facebook page: http://www.facebook.com/theramblingsofamadmanafam
2. Share the facebook page on facebook
3. Follow me on twitter: https://twitter.com/Afam20

The winner/winners will be announced on the 31st of March.

Happy Days,
Afam

It is reported that two students of UNILAG committed suicide in January. The first, Damilola Durojaiye, a computer science student hanged himself while his parents were away at the cross over service praying in the New Year. I cannot imagine what they must have thought when they arrived home to see their son stiffening from rigour mortis hanging from wherever it was that he hanged himself. I think everyone will agree with me when I say that that is not the ideal way to begin your year. The second, Seun committed suicide by ingesting an undisclosed substance. The rhetoric in Nigeria is that suicide is an uncommon cause of death in Nigeria. However this seems an inaccurate assumption to make because our statistical measures being what they are make it nearly impossible to determine who has died from what.