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Written by Innocent Nwankwo.

I find the current debate and imbroglio of the MD of the FCMB with his female staff and lover very interesting and educative. I think the name is office romance but moreso within the premises of Extramarital Affairs.

The p***s has been a prominent instrument in bringing down kingdoms, empires and nations. Not armies. David and his son Koheleth (Solomon) had very weak resistances to women of beauty. And they fell so easily. Just like Samson. The Bible says that "anything that happeneth to a man is for his instruction." Are there lessons or instructions in the Tunde-Moyo-Adam saga? Yes, so many. Are we learning lessons? I doubt really if we are.

Office Romance and infidelity have existed for ages and still flourishing. It is the more driven by the quest for money, position and influence. Women driven by these genetic impulses often endeavour to exploit, drive and harness any sliver of opportunity that comes along. I was sufficiently convinced that women crave for protection hence they radiate and orbit around men of influence and wealth. A given woman loves to be associated with a man of means or a man in power.
Great pleasure and fulfilment are derived from these 2 phenomena. She becomes protected, privileged and equally begins to radiate power, authority and exude influences and airs of arrival. The dog in the king's palace also trails royalty. Moreso, beautiful mistresses. I remember Angela Onyeador at this point. At a point she almost nudged out the real madam barefacedly in Abuja.

I have seen office romance and infidelity at their peaks. It involved the Capo and one of the married principal female officers. At a point a child was born to climax and crown the affair. A male child. The boy was a carbon copy of the Capo. Black, slim and well built. The madam was also a creamy black beauty, curvy, tall and with British accents and steps. She attended a certain Polytechnic in the UK. Sure, her beauty turns necks anywhere anytime. I was her office boy. I was really not assigned to her but she preferred my hanging around her to run messages. Discreet messages. She was a Yoruba, I was Igbo. I never really speak Yoruba but I do hear. She said that she loved the way I handle English language those days.
I stayed in the outer office while she was in the bigger, inner and elaborate recesses tastefully furnished. I had a phone separate from hers. She can interconnect with me from her end but I cannot do so in reverse. We huddled on the 6th floor. The Capo stayed on the 5th.

The Capo has a very large office space with a nap room plus conveniences. I understood that Julius Berger supplied the exquisite bed in the nap room. Whenever the Capo needs my madam, he sends his elderly Igbo messenger who comes up to our office. He knocks, opens the door and greets. Knocks again to greet my madam and goes back without saying anything.

After awhile, my madam steps out, adjusts herself, spray some perfume on and boldly tells me "let me see my darling downstairs. If anybody asks, tell him I have gone to the Apapa quays for outside assignment." It began to dawn on me why she preferred me to the other boys who were of her tribal extraction. I got much favours - I keep all change from purchases. Whenever I buy Kingsway meatpies for her, surely one was for me, plus a bottle of Coke. She entrusts me with her gold watch for repairs then at the UTC opposite Bhojsons, Broad Street.

But I had pains. The husband of my madam was a principal partner in an Audit firm - Kuipers&Liarbrint. A top notch firm. The man was well to do. He sends His chauffeur often to pick madam at 5 pm but I have been schooled to declare madam at either in Apapa or Tincan ports for assignments and that she would close from there. Meanwhile, madam was having an ecstatic trysts just a floor below. I was to vastly understand that my job was to keep the chauffeur or any Tom at bay from rocking the boat.

Both madam and her hubby were natives of Ibadan. And I kept musing as to why madam was so entangled in a hot love session with the Fulani Prince such that the affair was a common knowledge throughout Marina. Even with a son in the Kitty.

When the Capo retired to contest for gubernatorial post somewhere in the Northeast Nigeria, madam also withdrew her services. But she had taken 2 humongous loans to build 2 4-storied houses, a little before Alaba International. The Audit had written asking her to pay in money before she left as her entitlements were far below the loans. Letters up and down and the Capo intervened to order a Writeoff of those loans. And so my madam left very free plus two multi million houses in her bag. Plus other benefices. Women love money and influence. That propels infidelity in the offices and elsewhere. Not really love.

Sadly, madam's hubby died in the aircrash at Epe involving an aircraft that was coming in first flight from Port Harcourt those days. He never knew about Madam's meritorious services at Marina. The Capo himself left for the North. And I left for the UNN.

Sometime ago, I ran into the Capo at the MM2 Ikeja. I greeted him. He has shrunk in height and flesh due to old age. Now slightly hu**ed. I told him that I worked at Marina and ran errands for my madam. He exclaimed. And said "reach her for me and tell her to get in touch." I accepted to do that. But madam had relocated to London after the husband's death with her 3 boys.

2 years ago, I read about madam's demise on a full page Obituary in the Guardian. The children had taken out a page to1 thank all those who stood by them, offered assistances at the death of their mother. Madam was buried in London.

The 3 sons posted their photographs on the publication. I saw the 3rd and the youngest. Still a carbon copy of the Capo - height, complexion and all. Oga never knew, never dreamt nor conjectured that a Romeo shared from his apple.

I shook my head. Women, intrigues, office romance and Infidelity. Was that part of the package that Lucifer delivered to Eve in the Garden?

I know a retired police man, a devot Christian,

While in service, they nicknamed him "Pastor" , he suffered bad posting for about 34yrs...

He rose from constable to DSP,

His popular name den was "HE NO DEY GIVE, HE NO DEY TAKE" ..

Meaning he doesn't give bribe to get good posting neither does he takes bribe from civilians...

Most people he worked with never liked him because they saw him as a spoiler...

He was posted from one bad posting to another, he was never posted anywhere there was any reasonable allowance,

Anywhere genuine money dey, he will not be posted there because they disliked him generally for his stand ...

He stood for righteousness and never liked cheating innocent people..

So some big men didn't like him

If anyone did anything evil in his presence he would expose them and make them face the wrath of the law.

From one State to another, he was transferred and he kept moving.

This was how he moved about for 34yrs and 5months...

For all of the years he worked, he had no land talk more of a house, but he managed to train his four children in school with his meagre salary and petty trading his wife was doing to support the family.

He had about 7months to retire from service when he was posted to the Police Force Headquarters Abuja on standby duty.

He was in charge of standby men at the Force Headquarters.

So one day, under the administration of President Olusegun Obasanjo and Mallam Nasir Elrufai was Minister of the FCT, things turned around for the better in his life.

During the enforcement of the Abuja master plan of 2006, the government needed to do some demolition within the Abuja metropolis.

So the Minister drove to police headquarters and requested for some policemen to be attached to the Task Force incharge of demolition.

So this DSP in charge of Standby Duties, an old man, was asked to lead the men on the special duty.

They went to carry out the duty assigned to them by the honorable minister without any hasles.

After about two days of working, the minister picked interest in the DSP because of his commitment to duty..

And asked him, "Officer how are u?". " Fine sir he replied the minister...

Elrufai then asked him, "do you have a car?"

The man responded, "I have one push and start Volvo", of cause he had a volvo of 1992 model which he stopped using anything there was nobody to help him to push it because there was no money to buy a battery.

And that was all he had as property in his over thirty-four years of serving his country.

The Minister asked one of his aids to bring a key to a brand new prado jeep parked at the secretariat and handed over the key of the car to the dutiful DSP.

The old man was surprised.

The Minister said, "this is now your new car, I just like you."

Wow...

The man couldn't believe his ears and what just happened.

Was he dreaming?

They went out that day on their routine duty of providing security for the Task Force.

When they returned same day, the minister called the DSP, now his friend, and asked if he has a land.

The man said, "sir apart from this jeep you gave me and my push and start Volvo, I have nothing else on earth", he said and stood at attention.

"How long have you been in service?" The Minister asked .

He said, " I have 7 months to retire sir!" He responded and gave a salute.

The Minister was moved with compassion and handed over documents of a plot of land to him located at Asokoro in Abuja.

The man was dazzled with what was happening, and while still looking with bewilderment, the Minister asked his aid to take him to one of the duplexes at wuse phase 2 and handed over the house to him as his new property.

The man collapsed....out of joy...

The news went viral to force headquarters...

The man who posted him there just to punish him didn't know he was pushing him to his recovery of many years.

It pays to serve God brothers and sisters.

Not too long from then, the Minister traveled abroad and the DCP in charge of operation at the Force Headquarters who posted the DSP for the assignment was very bitter upon hearing what happened.

He quickly used signal to remove him from there to report back on standby at the Force Headquarters.

The man returned and the DCP posted his own brother to go and take over the special duty.

When the DSP got to office, the DCP told him that whatever he was given was a proceed of the special duty and he needs to sell those things so that they can share the money for everyone who took part in the duty.

The DSP told the DCP that he was given those things and they were for him because they were given to him and not the team.

But the DCP threatened him and insisted that the last orders should be obeyed!

So the DSP said, "no wahala sir if u want to take everything take it sir".

While they were still on the matter, the Minister returned from his trip abroad and asked, "where is my friend, the DSP"?

They told him he has been changed and the ASP here is the new officer in charge.

Furious, the minister called the IGP and asked him to return his friend to him.

The IGP called the DIG Operations and ordered him to post the man back, that he was not aware of any change!

The DIG asked the DCP who removed the man out of envy to use his own official hilux to return the man to the Honorable Minister and should personally hand him over to the Minister and give report back to him with immediate effect!

Vooom, this is a case of Haman and Mordecai...

The DCP out of shame but must obey the last order, took the DSP in his hilux, with escorts and drove straight to the secretariat, handed over the DSP to the Minister.

The DSP while narrating the story later said the Minister gave the DCP 100dolars and asked him never to remove his friend untill the special duty was over!

Elrufai a Muslim, the DSP a Christian, but God can use anyone to bless you.

This was how the DCP left in shame.

The DSP remained there till he retired.

Elrufai personally called his friends and hosted a banquet to celebrate the DSP on his retirement.

On that day of his retirement, the Minister gave him a check of 10 million naira.

His friends donated several millions and handed it over to the man.

One of the friends of the Minister at the event gave him a plot of land inside Abuja Central Business District that was worth 200million naira if sold!

This was how God blessed him in less than 7months to his retirement.

Everything he lost ,he gained in many folds and he had well brought up children to conrinue where he stopped his service without a blemish.

He retired as a millionaire, two plots of lands valued about N400m if sold ,a duplex well furnished and one other car aside the prado jeep.

Indeed righteousness exalts a people, but sin is a reproach.

In all you are doing, remember that heaven is taking records, he knows how to reward his faithful servants..

His poverty ended just like that.

But he did not compromise his stand for truth and righteousness..for those 35 years in a police job that was labelled the most corrupt profession in the country.

A good story to tell to encourage anyone who might want to give up his commitment to duty because of the frustrations he is facing on the job. Look into the new year with some bright hope. Your reward might actually not be in terms of property or cash that you cam count but in greater intangible things that we all take for granted.

Copied ..

Daughter of popular pastor, Miss Renua Giwa-Amu allegedly commits su***de

Miss Renua Giwa-Amu, daughter of Pastor Femi Giwa-Amu, a popular clergyman has allegedly taken her life on Sunday, 27th December 2020.

According to Street Journal, the lady reportedly took her life after taking to her Instagram story to reveal that she was going to commit su***de while warning members of her family not to mourn her as they obviously do not care about her.

The young lady earlier this year called out her famous father on social media accusing him of ra**ng her as child on various occasions.
Renua alleged that her father molested and s*xually abused many young girls that were put under his care.

Detailing her harrowing experience in the hands of her father, Renua took to her Facebook with the write up below which she captioned ‘A short open letter to a certain Mr OBAFEMI EHIMIGBAI GIWA-AMU’

BELOW IS WHAT SHE POSTED MONTHS AGO AND WAS SHARED HERE 👇

******ia

A "short" open letter to a certain

Mr OBAFEMI EHIMIGBAI GIWA-AMU:

I know that you are a child molester, your numerous victims outnumber you and I remember everything now. All I have to say to you is this:

You, your rings of pe*****les, bullies, thieves, hired cronies and family gang can do whatever you like in eternum. You already do so, and my belief in karma is strong enough to know that you have already begun the processes that will eventually be your own downfall. But lately, I got triggered again into remembering details about certain threats against my and my siblings you often made against our lives if I was ever to become successful and return to Nigeria after daring to come forward with my truth. I already did that. I had the nervous breakdown in 2018 when the truth about your various exploits and smuggling schemes finally came back to me in a big, horrible way.

So, take note; if really you want to live long enough to indeed be the old dog turning tired tricks that you already are, you would be advised to start covering your pe*****le tracks more efficiently. We both know you won’t; that is how your specific and vile pathology works. I only feel sorry for the countless women and men who consciously or unconsciously allowed you access into their lives, homes, children and businesses over the decades of your horrific schemes. I wished that I could make you a better man when I was little and had no choice engaging in the things I eventually believed normal because of you. Not because you even deserve the simple joy of being a good person, but because this already wicked world never needed the vile stench of a soul like yours to walk it and the day you breathe last on it, will be a purer tomorrow.

All of that is fact, already known widely and in private, but after having to watch helplessly before while you took various jobs, titles and high positions that allowed you, smuggle and steal, trick innocent parents into sending their children places with you when really you know anything you did for money was always a reluctant business front you used to scout more victims, sophisticated scams and channels to perpetuate more crimes across international borders.... after watching you do all that and still manage to get away, living scot free off whatever femme du jour, I must admit it’s too hard to stay quiet again as an adult. Most people already know the thieving facts about you, but many more fools searching for quick easy money will always be happy to associate with a crook like you. So at this point, I just have to make a necessary, painful but awkward and public announcement for people in respectable society to understand that you should perhaps be discouraged from being such a homicidal thieving pervert, or maybe at least not be able to ask their kids to sit in your lap casually anymore.

People make strange choices indeed; I have never understood the adults in my life who had power to create positive change over certain situations and just simply never did. Some lack courage, some lack intuition, maybe others simply believe this is how the world works and don’t bother trying to fight anymore. Thankfully, the world has beaten, pi**ed on and shot me down enough (starting with a father like you) it has become a source of pride, joy, excitement, happiness and even vindictive pleasure for me to help make it a safer place, even just a little, by putting my feminist money where my mouth is and outing your miserable depraved self to the world and whomever might be concerned with this message.

To people associated with us both who try and guilt me into forgiving you, I sincerely hope they find either the healing or direction to understand why it is they feel personally incensed to police the tone and actions of a former child s*x slave, or why they are willing to stick their necks out for a continuously harmful s*xually offensive perpetrator who is wanted in several states across the world.

His current piggybank/wife has vulnerable & unwell children, and built him a makeshift church with a budding congregation over which he presided as pastor and held sermons. My pedophilic father renamed his third wife after me, and she bears the name Ohirenua willingly. An uncle of mine dismissed my feelings about it saying it was intended perhaps as a "compliment".....meanwhile it makes my skin crawl. Some others have whispered of his political aspirations of seeking glory in the footsteps of his father who was once an attorney-general of the old mid-west states of Nigeria. So, sentiments and forgiveness aside, the man is still doing the things that nearly ruined my life, to others. And that alone makes me sick to my stomach. Someone needs to stop this madness before it affects a child you know, you knew or once trusted him with. Several of my nursery, primary school, and secondary school friends in Nigeria at some point or the other always had to eventually tell me they couldn’t come to my house anymore because my dad was "becoming a problem."

It has to stop. I did my part in stopping this man from continuing to thrive amongst the chaos and disorderly nature of Nigerian living, both as a child and now as an adult. I have spent enough years cracking my brain over this and wondering what to do ever since I first noticed and wondered why my father always seemed to lick his lips while hungrily staring at any light-skinned children he spotted in Nigeria, as though he was about to eat a sandwich. I went through hell telling several adults who ignored, punished and dismissed me about this, to the point that I finally just dissociated and forgot a lot of this even happened until fairly recently. Whenever I remembered what he did to me as a child and attempted to tell anyone, and whenever he put me through his molestations, what followed was always an intense beating that always caused me to pass out and wake up feeling incredibly confused. It was a horrible, long process.

I do not ever seek out or ask for any informational updates about this man & his whereabouts as I do not associate with pe******ia in any format, and simply do not care to endanger my newly reclaimed safety by knowing him. Occasionally someone unwitting might think to use the concept of my child predator father to mock, insult or shame me. Source of shame that he is, I have no more guilt or anger towards myself and others who knew better, about this. Going through it all was the hardest part, but it took me many fractured years to piece myself together bit by bit, one PTSD flashback at a time, and it was a lifetime before I could look myself in the mirror and feel like I fully saw my own face. Entire chunks of my memory were once lost and taken from me, entire friendships and interests and hobbies and goals I had just vanished and might still not fully ever come back. Instead I carried around such intense feelings of shame, regret and self-loathing disgust that it consumed me most times. Good or bad, traumatic or not, those memories of mine that hurt me and triggered me for so long have finally woken me up and reminded me that I promised myself if I survived you, escaped, and somehow found enough sanity to be willing to return home that I would never set foot in Nigeria unless I had publicly acknowledged the fact that you continually r***d me as a seven year old child until I had a possible prepubescent miscarry and almost died of sepsis. I wasn’t even in Primary 4 yet.

I want you to know that my new, fulfilled and much happier family is made up of the abandoned projects you neither truly cared for as a husband nor father, and we were the only ones who loved you so blindly enough that while you destroyed us everyday on the inside, your kids only ever wanted to make you proud. The awful, scary truth is that we would have stuck by you through anything till the end of whatever this "family experiment" was for you, and could have helped you learn a better conscience and ways to take care of yourself. Instead, you freed us with your selfish departure and really, that is the one thing I can honestly say I will never stop thanking you for. You being a selfish piece of s**t is eventually always going to be the best thing that happens to the people around you, because you will always plan to leave them when it suits you to change "sleeves", as you once called me.

One day though, you will run out of the means and channels to find new victims, and I want to hope that you remember not to be audacious enough to attempt manipulating any of your old discarded hostages into taking care of you. Most certainly not me. If you don’t want to suffer, my advice to you is that you either start saving some scammy bucks for old age, or you just find a private place where nobody else will be bothered & kill yourself. I can’t speak for my siblings, but me sha, I know old age is creeping on you around the corner and even if you mistakenly happened to tap any more he**in from your mother’s ass to call me one day and ask for help? I will personally ensure you kick the very first bucket that comes your way.

Let me be clear, for summary and support: you do not exist. We do not speak of you. Your name has been changed mentally so that even in casual conversation we reference you as Jack or John or something, I forget. You need to know that what you did to me, your family, siblings, and all the poor people you took advantage of literally broke your father’s heart when he found out. What you were doing to me and the poor people of apapa & ebute metta he trusted you to care for, not to smuggle, r**e and pillage, devastated my poor Gramps. It deeply disappointed him; he fell so sick that he never recovered and I finally remember why you never wanted me to tell anybody how & when you found out that my grandfather was sick. You killed him, plundered his estates to sell my birthrights away and ensure your siblings would have to suffer.

But as we very well have seen, the truth endures. And now the truth about you has been shared freely, the entire world now is free and able to make educated decisions about associating with you. I know I wouldn’t, because I don’t. And no matter how many times you call me to threaten me, or beg through fake tears that you are sorry for everything you and your brother did to me, I am going to spend the rest of my life sticking to my truth and spreading the gospel of your horrible lifelong misdeeds. You can kill me tomorrow, the way you hired killers to track down & kill my mother for surviving the years of mental warfare and trauma you put her through including your messy stint in America (when you fled from Atlanta to Nigeria hiding from the FBI who are still hoping to catch you for the crimes of your drugs smuggling and child s*x trafficking ring all over the entire state).

You could even succeed in ending me and it still wouldn’t matter because now, it’s actually worth it for me to die knowing I did for myself as an adult what I needed someone to do for me as a child, and to have survived here now. Nigerians might be an ignorant, unhelpful and irritatingly enabling lot when it comes to listening to children over the messy adults in their lives, but we are also a very very VERY nosy lot. Even if it’s just for the gist, people will certainly have lots of inconvenient, nasty lingering questions about my disappearance if it occurs too swiftly after sharing this truth, especially in a country like ours where everybody knows you have henchmen & cronies on speed dial. By all means please, make me a martyr, I’ve enjoyed my time here and will go in peace. Just in case your sorry, loathsome, dimwitted, tiny egg balloon dick having self still is unfortunately dumb enough to spite your own soul and seek me out, pray you don’t find me. If you do? Better turn heel and flee like it’s the FBI approaching. Because it just might be.

You fu***ng failure of a son & fraudster.

The man who handles some souvenir branding for me called yesterday morning and wanted to know how I was doing. He wanted a Christmas job but I told him everything will be left for next year.

I asked if he would travel to meet his wife and kids since they live apart from him and he said it won't be possible. He had sent them some money for foodstuff and other things in the house, so he can't afford to travel.

He is a nice man, so I offered to foot the transport cost for him but he declined. "Barr it's not about that. I can't see my family this period with my money state now. Men are coming back to the village. Big people both young and old who have made it in life. You want my wife and kids to look at me as a failure when they see other men?"

After talking to him and encouraging him to see the need to travel, I ended the call with our usual, "E go better."

But my heart was heavy that a man will stay away from his family, not because he was not providing for them. But because in his own assessment, he has not made money to measure up to his mates. Thus a man is being denied the chance to share the love, care and emotional connection with his family because he feels they will judge him by his mates and not by his commitment to them.

Young men grow up and learn they are not supposed to show emotions. They are not supposed to be vulnerable, cry or express how they feel. They are supposed to be rough, tough and strong. Because...they are men.

Same society still makes it impossible for a man to be heard unless he has money. Your entire self worth, value and voice is tied to what you can bring financially to the table and if you don't have, then you're worthless.

This mindset is quickly destroying so many beautiful souls and dreams that would've blossomed over time, if only they were patient enough to put in good work and endure through time.

Like this man who brands for me, many people actually meet up with their financial obligations for their family. Things are tough but they always try and meet up. But nobody will shower them with love because the money isn't flying around. They even get insulted by people who beg them for help sometimes and they can't come through.

"A whole you don't have ordinary ₦10k to give me? Nawaooo. Better return to this village let all of us know we will not make it."

I feel heartbroken when I see some of these realities in our society today and I am writing this to reach out to my fellow young men who are under different types of pressure from their family, friends, partners or loved ones.

As the son of Nebu, I don't know what it feels like to be under such pressure but I've seen, dealt with and listened to people going through such situations in life. It is never an easy ride. To breath is even a problem; how dare you breath when you're poor?!

Please be strong in your commitment and conviction in upholding what is good for your own life. I have seen family and loved ones rise from the slums to bigger places by their own hard work and dedication to duty. It will only take time, but if you're on the right track, it'll surely happen for you.

Next year, I plan doing series of daily short videos to address different life questions, issues and opportunities we can all explore as young people in this nation and beyond.

I need you to always remember that you don't need money to validate your worth as a human. By the very essence of your being, you deserve love and respect. And if people around you pressure you to do untoward things to prove yourself, please walk away. They won't be there when you'll be paying the price.

I know things and times are rough dear young person, but be strong and believe in your journey.

Reach out and stay with your loved ones if need be, we need love and some certain level of support on this life's journey. You cannot do it alone. You hear?

I'm almost feeling emotional as I write this and I guess I need to stop now before I start crying...

Just don't give up on yourself. Please!

Till we get to the Promised Land, I shall be waiting for when you will pass me a glass of water and thank God for the gift of grace for the race.



- Martin Beck Nworah