Here’s another post for installment in the popular #roadkill series in travel. We might not be able to
It’s another story time guys. I’m basically a walking, breathing, cautionary tale. Disclaimer; this is not a fun
I was chatting with my friend on WhatsApp and we were reminiscing about our escapades in secondary school.
Have you ever been in a terrible situation but because of the people around with you in that time and how you handled it that it becomes one of your fondest memories? Well you’re about to hear one of mine.
I can say with all certainty that that had to have been “THE” worst trip of my life, no cap. I don’t imagine anything can top it and this is by no means a dare to the devil.
Oh Lord, where to begin the inaugural post for my #RoadKill series. So this is a story of my first time travelling at night (not internationally), how I managed to get away with paying #4,500 transport from Lagos to Abuja and how I almost died of a heart attack.
Over the weekend, my friend UD invited me to a Baby shower. We hadn’t seen each other in a while and it was great catching up with her. So the Mum to be was a classmate of hers from secondary school, a bunch of acquaintances were going to be there and she was gracious enough to invite me.
This story takes us way back to 2015, get comfy guys. I’m cringing just thinking of the details.
So basically after your higher education, you are posted to one of the 36 states and FCT (Lagos, Abuja, Portharcourt and Calabar are the Hollywood Chris’s of states). There are a ton of batches every year due to the numbers that finish from higher institutions (cries in lack of jobs).