Afternoon, guys. Hope your Sunday is going great? It’s been quite the interesting one, with Wizkid giving us front row seats to another celeb drama. Who would have thought? 

Meanwhile, Modus was the only one who commented in the last post about the day y’all want Squadi posted. The day is Wednesday. So SDC would be Fridays and Squadi, Wednesdays. 


Update: Since Sally has caught me using her photo style (she commented in the last post), I might as well continue LOL.


“Once you ride with people with the same goals as you, your car would speedily arrive at its destination”


He balanced the straw on her flat stomach where he had previously spread out the powder. Then, lowering his head, he inhaled the substance sharply and raised his head so he could feel the impact.


She giggled, her nails digging into his flesh as he lowered his head to repeat the action.

“Ugh, I love you N” he said as he dusted off the remaining powder off her stomach.

“I love you too, Keem” she winked, bit her lower lip and then smiled. Her hair, bohemian she had called it, was spread out on the bed in all its blonde glory. Dressed in a black bikini, she looked like one of those models on Instagram that he liked to stalk. “Come” she beckoned with her index finger.

His eyes lingered on the lemon color she had chosen for the nails. He usually liked it when she dug them into him during sex and moaned his name.

Having sex with her was one of the things he liked to do the most. He smiled inwardly as he remembered telling his best friend that some months before.

“Guy, did you hear yourself?” Khamil his best friend had asked, a smile on his face.

“I swear” he’d responded, the pad of his Playstation tightly held in his hands. “When I hit it deep, I swear, she starts to speak Spanish” there was a twinkle in his eyes when he had revealed that to Khamil who at the time gave him his hundred percent attention.

“For real?”

He’d nodded, “For real, for real”

“She’d be my best thing to do to if it were me”

He moved closer to her now on the Kingsized bed. Inhaling her scent, he allowed himself the liberty to place kisses all over her boobs, slowly down to her navel.

“I want you to make love to me, Keem” she muttered and he knew she would not have to beg for that. He wanted her, probably more than she wanted him.

Since they made up two weeks before, they had not had sex and he’d been thinking about that for a while now, so this was a good time.

But first, he had to eat her out like a well prepared breakfast.

And since it was the morning after a wild night by his father’s pool with their selected friends, having her as appetizer was not a bad idea.

With one finger, he shifted the thong, which was the other half of the bikini she was wearing to a side and let his tongue begin its magic.

She moaned. He smiled. He could not wait for her to start speaking foreign languages.

They started throwing random parties in his father’s Ogun state mansion in his second year.

At the time, the photos of the magnificent mansion had found its way to a popular blogger’s site and then, one of the biggest media outlets in Africa had estimated it to be around N1billion.


He, Khamil, Nadia and some of their closest friends had been in a boring lecture when Khamil gasped, telling everyone to peep his father’s new mansion and, to ask him why they were always bored during weekends.

“You seem to forget that we have strict rules here. We cannot just get out whenever we are bored. So let Hakeem’s father’s house rest” Ifeanyi, one of his closest pals had replied. Ifeanyi was the one who played by the rules and tried not to get into trouble. They called him Ifeanyi the good boy. Khamil had even teased him once, saying he would write a book for kids and title it Ifeanyi the good boy.

And they had let the “House rest” like Ifeanyi had stated. However, a week later, someone had dared him during a silly game of ‘Truth and Dare’ over drinks in his room. Nadia had been perched on his legs, her best friend Sade, who was dating Khamil sitting next to them, and the other members of the crew all scattered around the room tipsy.

“I dare you to throw a party in your Dad’s new house this weekend” one of the guys had dared and because he was one not to be caught off guard, he had stolen the keys to the house, made a spare and, thrown a party that same week.

That had earned him the title of “Baddo” and had secured his place as the Leader of his crew.

The parties had continued since then, with only kids of the most powerful, invited to the event.

“Hakeem, there is a problem” He pulled out of Nadia, they had just finished having sex.

“What is it, Khamil?” he asked from inside. Khamil was talking to him from the other end.

“Your Dad is in the premises” he froze, WTF?



Lerato was right, generating a link and sending it to Hakeem’s father’s email address was the solution to their problem.

He still preferred his App though. The last time he had used it, he had designed it like a bank’s mobile App, convinced his ex it was her Bank’s App he was trying to download and had installed it on her phone so he could hack into her most private messages.

However, he was aware of the challenges they would face since the person they were trying to hack into his account was a man in his 50s who probably did not care for Apps.

Satisfied with his homework so far, he looked around him and grabbed his phone. He was about to call Hakeem for the third time in an hour and he hoped that he picked.

The last two times his calls had gone unanswered and he was already beginning to lose patience. They did not have time. Hakeem of all people knew that.

He called again, this time, Hakeem picked.

“AJ, wassup?”

Ajayi could swear that he sounded subdued but he ignored the idea and proceeded to discuss his reason for calling.

“Link is ready. What is your Dad’s email address?”

“What do we need his email address for?”

He was stunned; had he not spent a couple of minutes explaining their plan to him earlier?

“Hakeem, I told you about my plan. Did you forget or are you trying to be funny?”

“Oh, I did not know we needed his Email address”

“So how in God’s name are we supposed to send him a link if he does not have an Email? You thought we were going to deliver to him in an envelope? Jeez, Hakeem!”

He was silent for seconds before he said, “I am going to text you an address. Meet me there in ten minutes. Do not be late” then he hung up.

Ajayi fought the urge to toss his phone at the wall. He was nearing his wits end.

He was.

As an only child, he easily got bored.

When he clocked 5, he one day got so bored, he began to fiddle with an old extension box lying around in the house.

The box had been damaged for a while and had been abandoned somewhere in a corner.

His parents had been to engrossed in an old show on TV to care about him. So when he sat with the box, drove a screwdriver through the screws and scattered the entire thing, nobody had seen him.

Nobody had seen him fix it too. And no one had believed him even after he came clean. They had not believed he could fix anything until he was ten and he fixed his father’s old transistor radio.

Then, the man had stared at him with eyes full of wonder while he pulled him aside gently and said to him, “You would be great but this world is tough, so be prepared to fight”

Ajayi had nodded and forgotten the words minutes after. A plate of steamy noodles, two eggs and a bottle of Fanta was all he needed to let go of his father’s words.

But from time to time, the words came back to him. Sometimes he wondered if he was really going to be able to attain the greatness, other times, he just believed he had to fight tough in this very tough world.

But truth was, fighting to be successful in the world was not easy. Not when life kept tossing hurdles your way. Hurdles like Hakeem Rasaq.

He fished for his N500 Sunglasses from his jeans pocket and covered his eyes with it. Holding the straps of his black backpack, he sauntered to the front door of the Rasaq mansion.

It was hard not to be in awe of the edifice like he had been with the Lekki one. But he was here for a mission, a mission he had to be taken seriously for.

He knocked on the door and it opened for him in seconds. Red plastic cups, half eaten small chops and bottles of expensive alcohol littered the entrance.

Carefully, he found his way through the scattered floor and made for the sitting room.

Alhaji Rasaq was sitting on the couch, his face buried in the day’s newspaper, his phones lying by his side on the large couch.

Ajayi could not help but notice the brown handbag lying on the coffee table right in front of the man.

“Good afternoon Sir”

Alhaji Rasaq raised his head, his eyes scrutinizing Ajayi before he asked, “Who are you?”

“Hakeem’s Class Rep”

He frowned, “Is this your class? What are you repping here?”

Omo, the man was mad pissed.

He vaguely wondered how many people had been in the house when he arrived. Hakeem had said there were a few but the litter at the entrance made that quite hard to believe.


“Ehen?” the man abandoned the newspaper in his hands and Ajayi somehow felt that was trouble. It somehow looked like the man “had his time” and was willing to deal with him if he was lying.

Ajayi felt his pulse quicken. He had come there to save Hakeem’s stupid and juvenile ass. He however hoped he was not going to get in trouble himself.

“Are you going to talk?” Alhaji roared, glaring at him where he stood.

Ajayi suddenly felt his knees go weak. He was going to be in trouble, he could sense it.

“We have an Exam” he blurted and then wanted to shoot himself as soon as the words found their way out of his mouth.

He knew he was going to screw up and he just did.

Earlier, when Hakeem had sent him a message, he had told him he needed his help because he was in big trouble.

Hakeem had briefed Ajayi on how he had been caught by his father after throwing a “small” party in his mansion with his “few friends” and was now threatening hell.

Ajayi was then supposed to come to the house, tell his father they had an important Test so that one could let him go, at least for the time being.

“Exam” the man repeated and Ajayi nodded.

God, he was screwed.

“Which Exam?” Alhaji Rasaq asked, folding his arms across his chest. He had that “You have been nabbed” look on his face and Ajayi hated it.

“It is an international exam”

Go on Ajayi, don’t stop acting like an Idiot. Finish your Idiocy moment.

Alhaji Rasaq chuckled, “International Exam” he repeated, “So you have come to call him so you people can go and do this Exam where? Beijing?”

Ajayi nodded, “Yes Sir… No Sir”

“Humor me” the man said, he was laughing now

“It is a Beijing Exam but we can write it anywhere in the world”

Ajayi then watched as the man threw his head back and laughed hard.

Yeah, he was finished.



The sun that afternoon had been like a cruel mean goddess – Harpy. But she had endured the heat only because she got a call from Alhaji telling her to come meet him in his Mansion in Abeokuta.

“Be fast, I am not here for long” he had said right before he got off the Phone and she had raced out of her house immediately after.

It was the first time in days that he was calling her and she believed it was for a good purpose.

She needed to see him on time so that she could finally get some money off him for her mother’s ailing health and her brother’s bail.

Searching for funds to start her own Salon was also part of the problems she had, but right now, those two ranked high on the list.

She also needed to restock the house with foodstuff and pay her youngest brother’s school fees.

Enduring the hot sun, the uncomfortable journey in a bus which had its best days behind it, she had arrived Abeokuta two hours after his call.

It was becoming increasingly hard not to rob the man but she knew robbing him would not be easy as great as the idea felt.

He knew her house and would probably find her easily if she took money from him now, so she either had to steal a lot she could disappear or, she stole anonymously.

But how could she do that? It was impossible. At least, not from where she stood.

When she arrived at his house, he had been livid. Clearly, his son had thrown a party in his house, leaving the whole house in a mess.

Alhaji had come for a meeting in the House and had been appalled when he walked in through the front door and was greeted by a braless girl with huge tits.

Livid, he had ordered everyone out of his house and had gone in search of his son. After telling that one to return to the room and that he would be in serious trouble this time, he had dragged her to the dining table and had angry sex with her.

She winced now, as the image of him thrusting angrily into her on the messy dining table pushed through her mind.

Yet, he had told her to go and make something for them to eat without allowing her to discuss her money issues.

She was beginning to think he had no intentions to give her money. Maybe not even 50k.

Opening the Fridge, she grabbed a perspiring bottle of water and filled a clean glass with it. When she shut the door to the Fridge, she was startled by Hakeem’s presence at the door.

He looked calm, dressed in a sky blue shirt and a pair of brown shorts, he seemed nothing like the man she knew he could be.

His hands were stuck in his Shorts, his shirt unbuttoned, revealing a sparkling white T-shirt which he wore under.

He said nothing, his eyes on her. She hated to admit that he unnerved her, staring at her like that but he did.

“What’s your name?” he asked

“What’s your business?” she countered, drinking the water in one quick gulp. She felt refreshed as soon as the coldness of the liquid settled inside of her. She made a mental note to shower when she was done preparing the meal Alhaji had sent her.

“Okay, I would call you Sugar Baby”

She frowned, eyeing him at the door where he still stood, refusing to move an inch.

“I need your help, Sugar Baby” if he noticed the coldness in her eyes, he was not showing it.

She hated how cocky he was and how oblivious he was to the fact that she hated his arrogance.

“I need you to create an email address on my father’s phone and click a link on it the moment he gets a message that my friend would be sending him”

Her hand was on the frozen chicken in the sink which was thawing when she heard him tell her what he needed. She ignored him and pulled out a sharp knife that she dug into the Chicken. She began cutting it into small chunky pieces. She wanted to make stew with chicken and white rice for her and Alhaji.

“I would reward you handsomely. I have not decided how much you would get paid but it would be nothing less than N500,000”

She froze, whirled around and gasped, “What did you say?”

“I would pay you N500K” he repeated and she could see from where he stood that he was serious.

This was her opportunity.

“I don’t care what your plan is but I am down. And, I want more than N500K. it must be serious for you to need me. So I want 1M.”


Her jaw threatened to drop but the knife in her hand did. As it clattered to the floor and cut her skin slightly, she realized that he was for real and she was going to be rich for real.

Hakeem eyed the Knife on the floor and only then did he leave the doorpost and strolled into the Kitchen. He grabbed the Tissue on the Kitchen counter and handed it to her.

“You cut yourself”

She nodded, muttered a Thank You and grabbed the tissue.

“How soon do you think you can do what I asked?”

She was born ready, “Right now”

He smiled then, momentarily distracting her with the way the smile lit up his handsome face. He was cute no doubt.

“I think I would like you” he said.



Yellow had been waiting outside the Mansion for too long and he had finally decided after twenty minutes that he was going in.

His joints still ached from being thrown off the Bike and walking the distance back to the University where Hakeem schooled.

But he had no choice, he had to do what he had to do.

As he made for the front door after he had been let in by the Security Guard, he rehearsed what he planned to say when he saw Hakeem.

He had spotted Ajayi a little too late an hour before. That one had gotten on a bike before he could stop him and so he had trailed him, gotten in the bus with him without being noticed and followed him to the House.

It was his only way to see Hakeem because he knew that one was never going to pick if he called.

The door opened and he was led in to the sitting room where he found Ajayi and Alhaji Rasaq having a conversation.

He had not been expecting to see the older Rasaq and so he was thrown off for a bit.

“Yes?” the older man quizzed the moment he joined them in the sitting room.

“I want to see Hakeem sir. Good afternoon Sir”

“For what reason and how did you know he was here?”

“I brought this young man sir” he replied, pointing to Ajayi

“So why are you here to see Hakeem if you brought his friend?”

The old man was not playing.

“Hakeem do me good Sir. I had accident and he carried me to Hospital, I just said I should come and say Thank you before we go” He answered, that one had been a quick one.

And Alhaji Rasaq was buying it, obviously.  “Okay, wait for him”

“Thank you sir” Yellow muttered his gratitude and sat

“Ehen, you were telling me about this Exam in Beijing that I have never heard about and that you clearly have proof of but I cannot see” Alhaji said to Ajayi now.

Ajayi paused and Yellow sensed the tension in him even from where he sat. The guy was lying about something and he could see that he was neck deep.

“Ha Oga, shey na that Exam for Beijing? My Sister too dey talk am for phone now o…” he sat comfortably now and faced Alhaji squarely, “Sir, when she come tell me for house, I think say na lie she dey lie until my cousin tell me say him daughter pass am and don get certificate to work for anywhere in the world now. These children of nowadays get opportunity and I dey happy. At least, the world is getting better”

“Hmm” Alhaji nodded slowly.

They were suddenly interrupted by a light skin girl, one Yellow could swear he had seen before.

“Please borrow me your phone, Alhaji. I want to make a quick call”

Alhaji nodded towards the phone and she grabbed it.

“Thanks” then she headed back the same direction she came.

SQUADI: The Originals

– Tomilola Coco Adeyemo