I am an Ajebutter. Not by birth, or by formings, or by swag – I am simply an unapologetic Ajebutter by default. I didn’t choose to be born one. God, without seeking my opinion (because He’s God, I guess), gave me the genes of an Ajebutter and a funny Bri-Merican accent . By luck or some twisted work of fate, fortune, Karma (I might have killed ten defenseless puppies in my past life) or destiny, I have found myself in Lagos, crazy Lasgidi, and this is my story…
There’s a reason why Lagos is called the Center of Excellence. That’s because they’re about as excellent as it gets in everything. Lagosians are excellent in enterprise, revenue generation and investment, streetfights and Agberos, Owambe parties and 419’s, and most impressive of all, they like gambling like die!
Lagos gambling has evolved from the small-time criminally inclined dice-throwing, and card-flipping. No, that’s for Ajegunle criminals who throw the dice all day, fight all evening, and smoke weed all night, before retiring with a bottle of Alomo and 5 minutes in some crude gym.
Lagos gambling is way more advanced from such displays of petty hooliganism, into more organized forms such as Baba Ijebu and SportsBet. I, Joey Akan, bored on a Sunday, and feeling brave, took to one of such gambling centres to see firsthand what the big deal is, and maybe try my hand at some good ol’ gambling.
Maybe I might hammer enough to make Forbes notice my tush ass.
And of course I went to SportsBet. Baba Ijebu looks too local. An Ajebutter cannot be drawn to such ‘bush’ places. No way! What will my fans say? So I took to the place where I know fellow Ajebutters will be.
Walking into the venue, I saw a crowd that will make TB Joshua green with envy. These boys no dey go church again. Even their girlfriends too accompanied them to the center, to give their darling boyfriends emotional support and advice.
“Don’t sweat it honey, choose Manchester Utd. I like Van Persie, and their jersey looks as fine as my pink panties. They will win small Chelsea’.
Such priceless advice. Trust the bobo to say N.O!
At the SportsBet office, I saw grown men cry because a team on their betting ticket was dumb enough not to win a game, or were just rubbish enough to get beaten well. I even saw one man had a heart attack, and had to be rushed to the Hospital.
(Uncle Joey, You can sabi lie o!). Okay I made the heart-attack bit up.
After all the drama from that office, only about 20 people were able to win their money back. And they didn’t bother to buy a round of drinks for tush Journalists like me. Stingy men.
I didn’t bother to bet my money. No be my small salary wey Sportsbet go chop. And then, my father told me not to gamble. He said, instead of gambling, I should pursue women. And I’m meant to go after the superhot ones.
I went back home a changed man. Maybe someday I might try gambling, but not in Lagos. Christmas is here already, and this centre of excellence will not make me excellently broke for Christmas.
Amen. See you next Tuesday.