I’d seen many beautiful girls before but I’d never seen any as beautiful and as ukwulicious as this girl. She was a yellow pawpaw. The type of yellow that no bleaching cream could give. She was so graceful in her movement. Her ukwu moving up and down, left and right like the hips of a pussycat. Her hair was made with owu isi. Her eyes, shining from the tiro on her lashes. She had a beauty spot at the top left corner between her nose and lips. The only minus-one I noticed was the mary-amaka, akwa 1960 she was wearing. But when someone scores 100%. Minus one still means 99%. A1. Excellent.

Maka Chukwu! If I hadn’t seen this girl with my two naked eyes, I’d have sworn I was dreaming. When I saw her walking towards me, I started sweating like a Christmas goat. I was staring at her like a zombie.
“Good morning sir!” she greeted me shyly.
On hearing her angelic voice, every hair on my body stood up. I wanted to respond to her greeting but I couldn’t find my voice. I was just staring at her beauty spot , admiring her open teeth and inhaling her body scent. She smelled like, like…
“Biko, okwa ginwa bu onye ikpeazu?” she asked. That angelic voice serenading my ears again.
Yes! She smelled like ncha-nkota and ude-aki. Chai! This kind of smell was like raw female pheromone to my male senses. If she were to be an nne-ewu, I’d be following her sniffing her like an mkpi.
“Oga! Oga!” she tapped my arm as she tried to awaken me from the spell she’d unknowingly cast on me.
“Eh! Eh!” I jolted to consciousness as if her hand was a naked wire.
She looked worried and confused at my reaction.
“O mu bu onye ikpeazu,” I finally managed to answer the question she’d asked me before.
“Ok!” she muttered, then stood quietly behind me on the queue.

I really felt like an imbecilic okpo. What a first impression! I had to do something.
“Nne! Bia kwuru n’iru m,” I shifted to one side, gesturing for her to move forward and take my place.
“Thank you,” she smiled and stepped forward while I took her place.
“Onukwu!” I heard a rough agboro voice curse at me from one corner.
“Woman-lapa!” I heard an Igbotic voice coming from the same corner as the rough agboro voice.
“Unu rapu ya! O bu gentleman.” I heard a short, dark woman behind me say in my defence.
If she was praising me so that I could tell her ‘Nne! Bia kwuru n’iru m’ and allow her move to my front like the beautiful, ukwulicious, yellow pawpaw girl. No way! Fa fa fa fowl! I stood my ground.
“Kam nukwa na o bu gentuluman!” the Igbotic voice shouted, dismissing her.
“Oga, gbachiha nkiti. O jealousy n’enye ha nsogbu. Thank you.” the beautiful, ukwulicious, yellow pawpaw girl turned smiling at me, and brushed her hand on my forearm.
Hahahaha… People burst out laughing. Including me.

I was relieved that the laughter ended the debate about me being a fool and a woman-wrapper for allowing the beautiful, ukwulicious, yellow pawpaw latecomer to overtake me after I’d been on this queue for almost an hour. I brought out my phone and checked the time.
“Nawa o! Okwa fifteen to eleven,” an old man at the front of our queue complained loudly on checking his wristwatch.
“Shuo! You even dey front still dey make noise,” the young man standing on the other queue muttered to himself. From his pidgin and accent I could guess he was from Delta.
“I wonder!” the short, dark woman behind me said, angrily eyeing the old man.
They both knew that the old man didn’t and couldn’t hear them from where he was standing.
I smiled. Partly in response to their comments and partly mirroring the everlasting smile on the face of one of the White men seated facing us. Since I came here, I’d wondered how someone could smile like that for so so long.
“Next person please.” I heard the ever-smiling White man call out.
“Next person please,” he repeated, louder than before.
“Paaapa!” we all shouted in unison at the old man in front. If not that he was an old man, I was sure some people would’ve slapped him.
“Oh oh oh! Sorry, a nam abia!” the old man stepped towards the White man.
“This papa sef. Na sleep him dey sleep?” the Delta guy said, shaking his head.
Some of us laughed. This was the same old man who’d complained only few minutes ago. How could he doze off so fast while standing?

The old man wasn’t finding it funny at all. His thumbprint wasn’t reflecting on the verification machine.
“Yuneki, o ginikwa?” the old man asked the ever-smiling White man as if it was his fault.
The White man held the old man’s hand and pressed his thumb again on the machine.
The machine rejected it the second time.
“Chelu! Chelu!” the old man motioned with his left hand for the White man to wait. Then he lifted his right hand to his tongue, licked his thumb, raised it to his head and rubbed it on his grey hairs.
“Paaapa!” some people hailed him, laughing at his attempt.
The machine recognised his thumb this time. I even pitied the poor machine somehow.
“Wow!” the White man exclaimed, showing his surprise with a bigger toothy smile.
“Yuneki!!!” the old man smiled, offering the White man a handshake.
The White man looked on, confused. His smile fading for the first time that day. This was the same hand the old man had just licked and rubbed.

One second.
The hand was still hanging.
Two seconds.
The hand waited.
The hand was becoming tired.
The hand began to return back to the sender.
Four and half.
The White man looked down at his own hand.
The White man’s hand quickly grabbed the old man’s hand in a warm handshake.
Hahahahaha…. We all burst out in laughter with the old man. We were so relieved that the White man hadn’t fallen his hand and broken the poor man’s heart. As for me, I was laughing at the way the old man kept saying “Yuneki! Yuneki! Yuneki!” as he shook the White man’s so happily and victoriously.

Yuneki was the old man’s way of saying UNEC which was what MASSOB, BZM, IPOB and other pro-Biafrans preferred to call these United Nations referendum officials. It meant United Nations Electoral Commission. Clearly an allusion to Nigeria’s INEC.

When the old man finally let go of the White man’s hand, I noticed the white gloves on the White man’s hands. Ah! No wonder! That was why he’d accepted the handshake. He’d remembered that he was putting on gloves.
“Machine Yunek achoro iwu m aka n’ala?” the old man asked no one in particular as he walked away from the table. “Mbanu!” he answered his own question smiling. “A ga m atunyeriri Biafra taata!” he declared with stubborn determination.
“Paaapa the paaapa!” I heard the rough agboro voice hail him loudly from the corner.
Kpa kpa kpa kpa… The old men and women seated under the canopy clapped for him as he came to join them. The canopy had been provided for them by one rich Onitsha man who everybody suspected to be interested in becoming the governor of Onitsha State if Biafra wins this referendum. They’d done their verification and were patiently waiting for 12 o’clock when…

Vraaaaaaaaam… Vraaaaaaaam…. We heard some okadas revving outside.
Piii piii piii…. They horned repeatedly as they parked outside, near the gate of the post office.
Somebody quickly bolted away from the second queue. He was wearing a white shirt with green trousers. At the back of his shirt, I could see ‘ONE NIGERIA ONE DESTINY’. It looked like all those Christ Embassy Reach Out Nigeria shirts. He was hiding because he knew his destiny would’ve changed for the worst had these men seen his anti-Biafra shirt.
We all did about-turn to see what was happening at the gate. They were about nine or ten okadas facing us. Each okada had two men on top; its rider and another person either waving the Biafran flag or holding up a cardboard. Cardboards with words handwritten with markers. I read some of them.




Nigeria for sale? I laughed in my mind. Then as if he was reading my mind, the rough agboro voice asked aloud, “Nwanne, ego ole ka i na-ele Nigeria?” Everybody turned their heads towards the voice and back to face the man carrying the Nigeria-for-sale cardboard.
The Nigeria-for-sale guy smiled and replied, “20 naira!!!”
Another of his companions standing beside him, bent his head, cupped his ear with his hand as if he was trying to hear better and asked, “Isi na o 20 taaazan?”
“Mba! Mba! Mba! Asim sooso 20 NAIRA!!!” he shouted in response, emphasizing the naira.
An akpu-obi guy with sunshades covering his eyes, ran to the Nigeria-for-sale guy, brought out 20 naira from his pocket and stretched out his arm to hand it him. Then suddenly, changed his mind and withdrew the money.
“Chelu! A na-ekwekwa ya onu?” he asked with a mischievous grin on his face.
It was when I heard the now familiar voice that I knew that this was the owner of the rough agboro voice.
“Way, ngwa wotezia 20 kobo,” the Nigeria-for sale guy said. His colleagues were all smiling, obviously enjoying the bargaining.
“Nwa nnaaa! Nwa nnaaa!” an old woman called out from the canopy. She reached into her handbag, brought out a tied handkerchief, untied it and held up a 1 naira coin. “Bia! Bia nye ya ego!” she called out again.
Hahahaha… I couldn’t hold my laughter this time. This whole drama was so funny. Even the old woman had joined the comedy.
The akpu-obi sunshade guy ran to her, took the coin respectfully with his two hands and ran back to the Nigeria-for-sale guy outside.
“Unu nyekwa m change o!” the old woman called out smiling.
Everybody burst out laughing.
“Maaama the maaama!” the akpu-obi sunshade guy hailed her in his rough agboro voice.
“Maaama, sorry. Change adirokwa o!” the Nigeria-for-sale guy announced to the old woman as he passed the coin to his colleagues who looked at it as if they’d never seen a 1 naira coin before.

That was how the old woman bought Nigeria for sooso 1 NAIRA that day. I promised myself that I’d mark that day in my calendar. She had definitely made it into the Guinness Book of Records. The first person to buy a country for as low as 1 naira.

“Umu Biafra kwenu!!!” one pot-bellied man amongst the men outside shouted. He had an air of authority. He looked like their leader.
“Heeeeiii!” they all shouted in response.
He began to sing aloud, “Oga eme ha vam n’anya. Oga eme ha vam n’anya. Mgbe Biafra ga-enwelu onwe ha, oga eme ha vam n’anyaaa…”
They all responded by singing the same song over and over again. Until all their phones began ringing simultaneously. It must’ve been an alarm. The pot-bellied man looked at his phone and motioned to them. They all mounted their okadas and rode off still singing.

“Oga eme ha vam n’anya. Oga eme ha vam n’anya. Mgbe Biafra ga-enwelu onwe ha, oga eme ha vam n’anyaaa…”

I looked at my own phone. 12 o’clock sharp! The time had finally come for us to vote.

The ever-smiling White man stood up to address all of us with a megaphone. From the way he spoke English, he sounded like a French man. As he spoke, his colleague, the other not-so-White man, held up the voting ipad. They called it the v-pad. They held it horizontally. As I looked up at it, I could see two flags on the screen; the Nigerian flag on the left and the Biafran flag on the right.

We all listened just to fulfil all righteousness. We didn’t need this demonstration of how to vote. We were already tired of the endless adverts on NTA where some Igbo musicians, business men and actresses raised their v-pads and pressed their right thumbs on the Nigerian flag. Many pro-Biafran bloggers lambasted the adverts, calling it a ‘stupid Nigerian propaganda’. On the other hand, Biafra TV made a video in which Buhari, Obasanjo and Babangida were video-shopped voting for Biafra. The video went viral and was shared on the social media many times. All my friends had it on their phones. Even those who were very passionate about One Nigeria. Imagine!

As for me, myself and I eh, I came to vote for my stomach. I didn’t care about the Federal Republic of Nigeria or the future Republic of Biafra. My number one priority was my stomach. I came to vote for the Republic of Money. I heard that instead of the five-five thousand naira Buhari had promised all unemployed youths in 2015, the federal government would pay each Igbo youth, employed or unemployed, eight-eight thousand naira if we vote for One Nigeria today.

I was still on the queue behind the beautiful, ukwulicious yellow pawpaw girl wondering where I could get my own share of the promised 8,000 naira, when the Delta guy came back to the other queue sweating and said, “One mumu politician dey share 8k outside o!”
“Useless people!” I hissed as if I wasn’t happy that I finally had hopes of collecting my own 8k.
Another guy behind him brought out his phone and pressed something, then showed the Delta guy. The Delta passed the phone to me. When I looked at the screen, I saw:

8,000 / 400

I passed the phone to the short, dark woman behind me shaking my head in disgust as if I understood what the calculations meant.
“20 pounds ka ha na-eke! Ndi ara!” she scoffed.
That was when I understood it. 1 pound is 400 naira. Therefore, 8,000 naira divided by 400 naira is 20 pounds. But why did they make it sound as if 20 pounds was nothing? At least 20 pounds could buy me about thirty DeRicas of rice na. I waited for like five minutes then told the short, dark woman behind me that I wanted to go and piss. She nodded.

I went outside the post office shinning my eyes left and right as if I was looking for a corner to unload the piss. Almost immediately I spotted like five or six people standing beside a wicked black Ferrari with tinted glasses. When I got closer, I saw the side window slide down, one woman handed the driver a small piece of paper, the window slid back up, the woman’s phone beeped, she smiled at the screen and walked away from the Ferrari. She’d received her alert.

Confam! I took one step in the direction of my own alert.

I felt a hand grab my wrist as I was about to take the second step. I turned my head wondering who this enemy-of-progress was. I was surprised to see the beautiful, ukwulicious, yellow pawpaw girl. My anger was slowly changing into a smile. But I noticed the look in her eyes as she shook her head at me. I was so sure this was the same way Jesus looked at Judas when he decided to collect 30 pieces of silver and vote for One Nigeria.
“Oga, why? Why?” she asked me with tears glistening in her eyes.
I wanted to ask her why she wanted to cry. I just stood there speechless.
“I choro ire Biafra maka 20 pounds! 20 pounds!! Why?” she rebuked me, the tears flowing down her face.
How could I explain to her that I wasn’t trying to betray Biafra? How could I explain to her that I was only trying to betray the hunger in my stomach?

She suddenly left my wrist as if it was a hot kettle, wiped the tears off her face and walked back into the post office. I followed her as if she’d used touch-and-follow on me. When she tapped the short, dark woman’s shoulder, I was scared. Was she going to expose me to these people? The short, dark woman shifted back. The beautiful, ukwulicious, yellow pawpaw girl stood in front of her, rejoining the queue. I quickly stood behind her. Then I touched her arm guiltily. She looked down at my hand, refusing to look at my Judas-face. My touch was a wordless apology and she knew it. She simply squeezed my hand tenderly. I was happy she’d forgiven me. She had to. After all, did I not forsake my 8,000 because of her and her tears?

Soon she casted her vote. I stepped into the booth immediately after her to cast my own vote.

I saw the transparent smear of thumbs on the Biafran side of the v-pad. The Nigerian side was still clean. I wondered about those five or six people I’d seen collecting eight-eight thousand from the tinted Ferrari. Didn’t they vote for Nigeria as agreed? Or maybe they’d voted in the other booth. Well shaa, it was none of my business. I placed my thumb on the Biafran flag and rushed out of the booth.

I saw my beautiful, ukwulicious, yellow pawpaw girl walking graciously towards the gate on her way out of the post office. Lai! Lai! A gaghi m agba loss. How can I lose the 8,000 and lose the beauty that made me lose the 8,000? Mbanu!

I brought my phone from my pocket and pressed “0” to make it easier for her to type in her phone number when I ask her for it. I held the phone in my left hand and ran to her. I stretched my right arm and opened my hand to grab her wrist.

As my hand closed, it grabbed nothing.
I mean. I didn’t see her again.
She’d vanished.
As in, o missiri emissi.
Into thin air.

Akpata oyi wuru m. All the hairs on my body stood up. I ran home without turning back. Without waiting to join in the oriri and onwunwu with the winners as I’d originally planned.

On the 30th of December, the final result were announced. Biafra won in Anambra. Abia. Enugu. Imo. Ebonyi. And Asaba. Biafra won by a landslide. There was continuous jollification in Biafra from that day till the next week. I ate and drank and ate and drank into 2020 till I was even tired of oriri and onwunwu.

Later later, I began hearing rumours that the millions of Biafrans killed during Nigeria-Biafra war of 1967-70 had come on that day Saturday 28th December 2019 to vote for Biafra. Some believed the rumours and thanked the dead, praying for their souls to finally find peace. Others laughed, calling the rumours ‘akuko post office’.

I wished I could tell them my own experience. How I’d fallen in love with a beautiful, ukwulicious, yellow pawpaw Biafran ghost that day. How I’d seen her, smelled her, touched her. How I’d seen her smiling, seen her crying and seen her voting for Biafra.

I wished I could tell them how she’d vanished right in front of my eyes. And how I’d almost grabbed her a second before she vanished.

Categories: King kObOkO's book, Politics, Story | Tags: , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment


Everybody knows dat King kObOkO is a Biafran

Its in my works, my posts & my blog. I’v neva hidden d fact dat I luv Biafra.

There4, I propose a referendum 4 us ndi Igbo 2 decide on our future. Let all Igbos vote & make a choice.

Nigeria or BIAFRA?

D Niger Deltans shud hold a referendum on their future too. I support total freedom & self-determination 4every single nation imprisoned inside dis brutish British prison called Nigeria since 1914.

So let dere b referendum 4 d Republics of BIAFRA, IZON, NIGER-DELTA, KANURIA, AREWA, MIDDLE-BELT, ODUDUWA etc

*wavin Biafran flag*

Categories: Politics | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

my PENis -King kObOkO (video)

Dis my video already has more dan 8,000 views on youtube o! EIGHT THOUSAND!!!

U think King kObOkO’s lying? Check it on youtube:

But if u want 2download it, go here:

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ill and gifted -Xris Fity (video)

Xris Fity is 1 ill & gifted artiste & producer. Yes o! King kObOkO, his No.1 fan, says so. Dis na him 1st music video so make una no yab am about d quality abeg. Rememba sey soup wey sweet na money kill am o! Hehehe…

Seriously sha, all Xris Fity needs right now is a solid sponsor & massive promotion 2blow.

Watch it video here:

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I want Biafra
I want a country to call nke m
I want a mother to call nne m
I want nna nna m to be a slave
I want nna m to be a rebel
A choro m ibu a freedom fighter
I want umu m to be free
I want umu umu m to be Biafrans

Categories: Biafra, Poem, Politics | Tags: , | Leave a comment

D Cock of BIAFRA

King kObOkO watched dis video jst 2day where an okuko igbo (igbo cock) was pursuin a dog. Can u imagine dat? It looks so unbelievable wallahi. Hehehe…

Biafran cock

While watchin d video, I wondered “Wat kind of cock is dis?”

D answa dat came 2my mind is dis:


Abeg watch d video make u undastand wetin I dey talk:

Chelu! Chelu! Chelu nu ooo! Taata bu ubochi ndi Igbo! 2day, Sept 29th na World Igbo Day! Make una no fear 2kill chicken afta watchin dis video o! Hehehe…

HAPPY WORLD IGBO DAY!!! *wavin Biafran flag*

Categories: Biafra, Observation | Tags: , , , | Leave a comment

Pussy Tastes Like Mayonnaise

I no know about u o! But King kObOkO don notice sey pussy dey taste like mayonnaise & d body odour of d woman. *winks*


D tin b sey I too like mayonnaise. I dey use am chop salad. I dey use am chop bread. I dey use am chop rice. So I know wat I’m sayin wen I tell u dat pussy tastes like mayonnaise & I luv it.

Hmmmm… Delicious. *lickin my lips*

Or wait o! Is it only my queen’s swt hole dat tastes like dat?

Categories: Observation, sexy | Tags: , , , | Leave a comment

Who wan marry Linda Ikeji?

1st of all, King kObOkO dey wish Linda Ikeji happy bday o! She’s now 34yrs old. Dat na if dat no b her football age shaa. *winks*

Ok, so I observed dat Linda’s still single & I decided 2do some investigation about why she’s single. Dis na wetin I discova

linda ikeji new suv lindaikejiblog

Linda Ikeji flaunts her riches
No! I know she can do wateva she likes wit her money. She’s hardworkin. She deserves all d wealth she has. But trust me, postin pics of ur new car, new house, American holiday etc wont help a Naija woman dat wants 2settle down wit a Naija man o!

Good men fear Linda Ikeji’s money

Its true. Most Naija men are afraid of marryin a woman far far richer & far far more powerful dan dem like Linda Ikeji.

Bad boys want Linda Ikeji’s money
U sef reason am. No b true? If u were a lazy Naija guy, wudn’t u b happy if u can marry a woman as bastardly rich as Linda? But sorry men, u cant decieve Linda easily o! Let me tell u why nxt.

Linda Ikeji is a VIRGO
Dat is her zodiac sign. Jst google “Virgo Woman” & u’ll undastand bro. Virgos no dey fall in luv anyhow & always seek perfection in people. Ntooor…*stickin out my tongue* Hahahaha…

Linda Ikeji’s age
Most Naija men dey find fresh 18-25yr old ladies 2marry. Na only very few dey consider d 25-35yr olds.

Linda Ikeji isnt ready 2marry a younger man
Aunty Linda, u wan deny? Can u marry a younger man, who u know & d world knows is younger dan u? No worry, I alredy know ur answa *winks*

Linda Ikeji is from Imo state
Every Igbo man & even non-Igbos know dat marryin an Imo woman no b small tin at all. U go spend moneeeeeeeeeey. Hahaha… But my man, dont b discouraged. Win Linda’s luv 1st. I’m sure she wont mind supportin u wit part of her millions 2settle her kingsmen. *winks*

Finally, *going down on 1 knee & holdin a ring*
“Linda, will u…?”

Categories: Observation | Tags: , , , , | 5 Comments

Naija Women Luv Cunnilingus

Sometimes when I tell some guys that they should try licking and sucking their woman’s sweet hole, them go dey say “God forbid!”, “Tufiakwa!”, “Olorun maje”. Olamide has even worsened the issue by adding “Iranu abasha” to their vocabulary. Hehehe…

But forget Olamide and his nonsense rap about refusing to suck or lick a woman’s sweet hole jor. He just wants to make hits and collect your money. After all, we can never know what Olamide does with his woman in the bedroom. He might even be licking their sweet hole plus poopoo hole join sef. Hehehe…

The truth is that Nigerian women absolutely, totally, completely love it when their man sucks and licks their sweet hole. Most of them will never experience orgasm in their life until they experience cunnilingus. Especially since most men don’t last more than 15mins. The sensation of their man’s tongue gently playing with their clitoris blows their minds away.

I’m even suspecting that more and more Nigerian women are becoming lesbians or experimenting with lesbianism because lesbians always suck and lick each others sweet holes.

If you’re a man that really wants to satisfy your woman in bed, if you’re a man that doesn’t want to lose your woman to a lesbian or man who can suck her sweet hole, then take my advice now before its too late o!

1) Make sure she takes her bath & washes her sweet hole well before the kwokirikwo

2) Make sure she shaves her pubic hair first if you’re the type that doesn’t like Sambisa forest

3) Pour ice-cream or honey or any creamy liquid you prefer on her sweet hole to make it taste better

4a) Suck & lick her sweet hole before inserting your sim card into her phone *winks*
4b) USE ONLY YOUR LIPS & TONGUE while sucking & licking her sweet hole
4c) DO NOT BITE OR USE YOUR TEETH ABEG O! Cos her clitoris is extremely sensitive.
4d) OBSERVE HER REACTIONS & BODY MOVEMENTS. If she dey lift her waist into your mouth, dey use her hands push your head down into her sweet hole or dey use her laps squeeze your head, na good sign. Well done! Keep up the good work my broda.

5) Suck & lick her sweet hole after releasing your yoghurt. That’s if she hasn’t come like you.

6) Try not to squeeze your face even if her sweet hole tastes like yoyo bitters. Hehehehe….

7) Thank me later

8) Do more research via google or click on d image below *winks*

pussy-eating technique

You’re welcome. Don’t mention. Hehehehe…

I no go tell Olamide & your friends sey you don follow King kObOkO advice, you hear?

King kObOkO advices u not 2suck or lick her in d followin cases:

1) If ur woman has a strange boil near her sweet hole or pubic area, pls be careful o! It might be a sign of a sexually transmitted disease.
2) If u have a sore in ur mouth, tongue or throat.

Categories: sexy | Tags: , , , , , | 3 Comments

Nigerians Don’t Buy Ebooks Because…

Believe it or not, Nigerians are not buying ebooks…
Because I’m not William Shakespeare?
Because I’m not Chimamanda Adichie or Nnedi Okoroafor or Onyeka Nwelue or Kiru Taye or Helon Habila or Myne Whitman?
No, no, no, no, no and no!
Let me tell you the reason:
Nigerians are not buying ebooks because of the oshofree mentality.

Because of the OSHOFREE mentality
Oshofree na chop-no-pay.
Oshofree is when you eat without paying.
Oshofree is when you download almost all the songs on Psquare’s, M.I’s, Olamide’s, Wizkid’s, Chidinma’s, Iceprince’ or Flavour’s album for free instead of buying the album on the streets. Chai! No wonder Naija artistes don’t depend on album sales like their American counterparts.
Oshofree is when you want to read an ebook for free instead of buying it for as low as $1. That’s TWO HUNDRED AND SOMETHING NAIRA!
Haba! Nigerians too like free things. Hehehe… Forget that I’m laughing o! It’s not funny. It’s affecting me personally. How? You may ask.

How it’s affecting King kObOkO
Ok, let me use my book “The Legend of INDIA VS NIGERIA” for example. The book is on Amazon Kindle, Lulu, Okadabooks, Smashwords and I’m even selling it independently via Gumroad. The problem’s not that its not selling o! My sales statistics show that Americans, Britons, Indians, Ghanaians and South Africans are buying it. I thank God for that. Or are the buyers actually Nigerians living in those countries? I still thank God. The problem is that only very few Nigerians living inside Nigeria are buying it. Many of them are begging me on Facebook to offer it for free so they can download and read it. Imagine!!! Nigerians eh!!!

If you doubt me, go to Okadabooks and observe the oshofree mentality of Nigerians there. Check the number of downloads for free books versus the number of downloads for books for sale. That’s when you’ll clearly see what I’m talking about.

Nigerians abroad versus Nigerians in Nigeria
You may want to be a Thomas-ekwekwe and counter my argument by saying that Chimamanda Adichie, Nnedi Okoroafor, Onyeka Nwelue, Kiru Taye, Helon Habila and Myne Whitman are all selling. Yes! I gree. Them dey sell. But I have some questions for you:
Question 1: Where are these successful Nigerian authors living? Are they based in USA, UK and India? Or are they based in Nigeria?
Question 2: Who is buying their ebooks? Is it foreigners and Nigerians in the diaspora? Or is it Nigerians in Nigeria?

What Nigerians in Nigeria prefer
The bitter truth is that Nigerians in Nigeria would rather download an ebook for free than pay as little as N100 (hundred naira is not even up to half a dollar). Don’t even argue that Nigerians are poor o! The same poor Nigerians spend money to subscribe for the data that they use for browsing and downloading. Don’t also argue that Nigerians don’t read. The same Nigerians buy and read pirated copies of Things Fall Apart, Half of a Yellow Sun, Bottled Leopard every day. They buy and read second-hand Harlequin, John Grisham, James Hadley Chase, Sidney Sheldon books every day.

Is it that Nigerians in Naija are too scared to use their ATM cards to pay for ebooks because of the fear of yahoo boys? I don’t know. However, I’ve come to the conclusion that Nigerians prefer paying for hard copies and paper books to paying for soft copies and ebooks.

It’s hard to sell the preferred hard copies and paper books through Lulu or CreateSpace because of the expensive cost of shipping it to the buyer in Nigeria. Worst of all, it’s harder to publish it locally as Nigerian-based publishing houses are quarter-to-dead, dead o’clock or half-past-dead. Hehehe…

E no easy to be a Naija-based author, wallahi. God help…

“Wait! So what’s the solution King Koboko? What do you advise us to do? What do you advise aspiring Nigerian authors to do?” I hear you interrupting me now. Relax! I’m coming. As I was saying, God help us. Say amen.

Self-publish ONLINE and OFFLINE
It’s simple.
Stage 1: Self-publish your work online so that foreigners and Nigerians abroad can buy it.
Stage 2: Self-publish it offline too so that Nigerians in Nigeria can buy it. Self-publishing offline means that you’ll spend at least N180,000 to locally print at least 1,000 copies of your book and market it vigorously by yourself.

My brothers and sisters in the writing world, I hope I’ve been able to convince you and not to confuse you that self-publishing both online and offline is the way forward. But no vex o! Your boy King Koboko’s still saving money to carry out stage 2 of his own advice. Hehehe…

Shhh… Don’t tell anybody: I still secretly wish that an international publisher will come and offer me a publishing contract. *winks*

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Read my new short story

Read my new short story “Baby, I Can Die For You by King kObOkO”

It’s free o! So enjoy. *winks*

Categories: King kObOkO's book | Tags: , | Leave a comment


I was jst lik a clay wit no porter
Standin lonely unda d rain
D challenges of life made me wonda
Cryin lik a child everday
But I heard His voice from behind saying
O bu onye tiri nwa na-ebe akwa?

I was crushed (words unclear) in d race
My (words unclear) singing
Lezienu na kpakpando m achago o
Shine dey go
I go dey shine dey go

My life was lik a fairytale
Neva thought dere’ll b a happy endin
D storms of life pushin me all around
U cud see dere’s fire on d mountain
But lik gold it refines me
Buildin my beauty
So hold on obele oga ka oge li


He’s d light of men. I’m gonna let it shine
Cos I know my body’s lik a shinin light
To shine up brighter & brighter unto d perfect day
(words unclear)
My blessins are lik d sands of d seashore
B4 me wat I see is open doors
I’ve conquered my failure
Haaaai haaaai. Oooooo yeah

(Chorus) + Bridge:
And can’t u see dat I’m a shinin star
Shine so bright. Shinin so bright
From story to glory. From zero to hero
Kpakpando m achago
Obudu Erika kataririka wuuuuu
No borrowin, no sorrowin again ooo

Twinkle twinkle little star
How I wonda wat u are
Up above d world so high
Lik a diamond in d sky

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Artiste: J’Dess
Song title: Kpakpando
Download link:

1st impression:
D chorus is d bomb. I can neva get tired of listenin 2it & singin it

Vocal power:
J’Dess’ voice is as swt as honey & as refreshin as cold water in a desert

Production quality:
D production is superb & well-mixed too. U need 2hear d instrumental

Lyrical content:
D song is well-written from start 2 finish. J’Dess has clearly mastered d art of turnin even rhymeless lines in2 a song full of harmonious rhythm. D way she combines English & Igbo so easily is truely mind-blowin

Dis is a highly original song. D way J’Dess sings “Twinkle twinkle little star” towards d end of d song makes u wonda.

Genre & Local appeal:
Dis is inspirational R&B or gospel R&B.

2nd impression:
a) Wat do I luv best about it?
I overlove d chorus. Its so easy 2sing-along 2ova & ova & ova again.
b) Wat do I hate most about it?
D question shud b ‘wat did I like least?’ bcos it’s hard 2find anythin 2hate in dis song. Ok, I didnt like d ‘twinkle twinkle little star’ endin but d way J’Dess sang it was great!

9/10 (or 90%)

My prophecy:
Dis song is a mega-hit alredy. It jst need massive promotion & a video

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I read dis post recently where sum1 was arguing dat Blogspot/Blogger is better dan WordPress 4 bloggin & I disagree.

Why I think WordPress is better than Blogspot/Blogger

1. WordPress has a wonderful mobile view. But wit most Blogspot blogs, even if u set ur phone’s operamini browser on mobile view, e go still open wit desktop size & very slowly too.

2. Its easier & faster 2post comments on a WordPress blog. Try 2comment on any Blogspot/Blogger blog & u go dey frustrated wit all d unnecessary verification.

3. WordPress has a cool mobile app 4 Blackberry & Android phones. I no know if Blogspot get their own app yet sha.

4. On WordPress, I can blog from my java phone. Yes o! I fit blog sharp sharp 4rm my Nokia, Tecno or Itel java phone thru

5. WordPress’ dashboard is very easy 2 operate

6. WordPress feels more mature. D truth b sey too many Nigerians dey use Blogspot/Blogger bcos of

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Homosexual Obama weds Polygamous Mugabe

America don legalise gay marriage all ova America. Congrats 2 dem. E no consign King kObOkO. It’s their business not mine.

D only problem na wen 1 homo go catwalk com meet me talk sey him wan marry me. Hehehe…

Seriously sha, I like how Robert Mugabe responded 2d gay development by proposin marriage 2 Barack Obama. So Obama, will u take Mugabe 2b ur lawfully wedded 2ND WIFE? Obama, u must accept o! Hehehe…

Obama’s refusal 2marry Mugabe is anoda problem. Cos America doesnt believe in polygamy yet America wants Africa 2believe in gay marriage. IS IT FAIR?

Make una use una church-mind answa my question abeg. Make we reason America-matter 2geda.

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My India Vs Nigeria Websites

Good day my people,

King kObOkO don do am o! Hehehe…

I now have 3 new websites dedicated 2d legendary INDIA VERSUS NIGERIA match o! They are:

Abeg make una check dem out. Thanks.

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Women, ur VIRGINITY is not enough o!

King kObOkO don com again wit him observation o!

Ok. I noticed dat most Nigerian virgins believe dat their virginity entitles dem 2 marriage. Dem they tink sey virginity na d main thing wey go make their marriage last. They think dat their virginity is d ultimate gift 2 their husband. But I disagree o!

Jst imagine dat u marry a virgin, do jigijigi wit her on d 1st night. She bleeds. She cries. U’r her 1st man. U dey feel like James Bond. Den she enters d kitchen & cooks poty 4 u. As in, she cant cook. She’s lazy. As in, she no fit do house chores. She quarrelsome, troublesome, a nag, a dullard. Hehehehe…

My broda, tell me, will her virginity (which u’v alredy taken sef) b enough? If u were 2 choose btwn a non-virgin who is lovin, cooks excellently, keeps d house clean etc & d kind of virgin I described b4, na who u go choose. Talk true o!

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Make Govt Giv NIGERIA ARMY ENGINEERS More Contracts

Una know sey King kObOkO dey talk wetin him don observe. *winks*

Ok, so I observed d seriousness wit which d Nigeria Army engineers were executin a drainage & road construction project near my area. They were even workin at night while we slept.

I also heard dat wen they’r thru wit d project, they’l call a meetin of landlords in d area & warn them 2make sure d drainage is not blocked & dat d road mst not b damaged. I dare anybody in my area 2disobey d army. Dem dey mad? Hehehe…

So I was thinkin it’l b a good idea 4d Nigerian govt 2giv d Nigeria Army Engineers more road contracts since Nigerians ar more likely 2help in d maintenance of such projects due to their fear/respect 4d army. E go make sense abi?

D only problem go b dis: If d Nigeria Army Engineers com do d contract anyhow, na who go probe dem?

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