Upcoming Gospel Rapper, Protek Drops New Single

Five years after Nigerian gospel rapper, Protek released his first mixtape, 'Zion Republican', he is again set to up the tempo with 'some heavy' new materials that could change the face of gospel music in Nigeria.
According to Protek, "the new single, 'Ayaya', is a song of appreciation to God and my fans for being there for me through the years."
Protek recently toured Europe to present his craft to the world and also to preach the gospel of Christ.

TALES FROM THE GHETTO: “IF YOU MOVE, I’LL SHOOT”!

My dad was watching the late night news on NTA when I walked in. “Good evening daddy”, I greeted him, but he didn’t answer me. Like a magic trick, one of his eyes remained on the TV, while the other followed me, as I walked slowly into the room. My mom was sleeping already, and my brother, Ochuko was doing his usual ugly sketches of super heroes. I tried to whisper some questions but the fool kept talking loud, like he wanted my dad to hear our conversation. So I flashed five fingers at him and faced the cupboard, to see if they kept food for me. They did. After dinner, I stayed in the room, hoping that my dad would come inside, so I could take my mat out to sleep. I was also worried, because my father’s silence could mean ‘danger’.

I was kissing and smooching Margaret, one of the bustiest girls in my class, when our teacher walked in on us, with a very thin cane. He landed a perfect stroke on my head, and another on my shoulder. The strokes were so painful and there was no space to escape… only for me to wake up to the reality that my dad was dealing with me. Apparently, I had slept off sitting on the floor with the mat in my hands.

I got a few hot strokes before I could escape to the sitting room. If my dad had ran after me, I was sure to break through the front door, which was not even strong at the time. The hinges were bad, but we managed it, because our compound had two strong doors (back and front), with iron bars behind them. That night, I slept with one eye open.

I couldn’t wait to share the story with my friends the next day. I laugh at myself a lot, so it was no big deal to have my friends laugh at me. After our first night at the motel, we couldn’t wait to do it again. We started sampling various motels within and outside the neighborhood. The crazy thing is that, I stopped caring about the girls I used to crush on in school. After all, I was getting it from older ‘aunties’ at the motels. “All these school girls be small peer for me”, I would brag to my boys in class. They would listen to my motel stories with ‘envy’.

On one of the evenings, Michael, Nuru and I decided to visit one of the motels we’ve never been to - Ahmed Hotel; beside Orege Cinema. Ebi, our friend from the other street begged to follow us, so he can also join the ‘Men’s Club’. He also offered to sponsor the evening’s escapade.

As usual, we started with drinks from one of the roadside sellers. The woman didn’t have ‘jedi’, so we all had a mix of monkeytail and dongoyaro. The interesting thing about these drinks, is that they’re cheap and the highness is guaranteed. After three shots each, we were good to go. Ebi was already in high spirit and would not stop asking what to do when he gets inside with the girl, something that Michael had explained repeatedly to him. Before we went in, I said to him, “Just tell the aunty say you wan piss, she go understand”.

When we entered the gate of the hotel, we could just tell that this place was not for ‘kids’. Weed was so legal here, and the girls were half naked and good-to-go. There were clusters of tables and chairs outside the hotel, with loud music playing from giant speakers, positioned everywhere. There were no empty seats outside, so we went inside. The girls here looked younger and finer. We liked the place. We saw an empty couch at the reception, which also served as a bar, so we made ourselves comfortable and ready to do our thing.

Nuru was first to pick a girl; I had to go next, because Ebi was beginning to annoy me with his nervousness. On getting inside, I thought to show the babe, I was not new in the game, so I cleared my throat and asked her, “How are you?” she probably found my confidence amusing, but looked away as she demanded for her money. I stretched a folded fifty Naira note, but she raised her eyebrows and said, “Your money na one hundred Naira; I think say you be customer for this place, why you come dey give me fifty Naira?” I thought she was joking until she said, “abeg comot from my room, if you no get money”. I probably should have left, to avoid embarrassment, but I started begging her to manage the fifty Naira.

“You funny oh; abeg come dey go, I no get time”, she replied.

“Ok, just let me do small”, I pleaded.

“This one no be tomato wey dem dey price for market; comot from here, now!” She wasn’t going to give me nothing.

When I walked back to the reception, I saw Michael and Nuru waiting already. Apparently, they had the same problem. “Omo, see fuck up!” said Michael, as we all roared with laughter. Ebi, obviously, had more money, because he gave us the little money we had. Not long after I joined my friends at the reception, the lady that kicked me out, strolled out to meet the barman. She had changed into a long t-shirt that suggested little underneath. I had just labelled her, “wicked” to my friends, when we heard something that sounded like gunshots, outside the hotel. If we still had doubts, people running back into the building confirmed that those were gunshots for real. I jumped out of the couch in confusion, asking one of the guy in room, “bros wetin dey happen”? And he replied, “ol boy na AK oh. Dem don surround the whole place”. I felt warm pee in my pants. Nuru was already crying, while Michael was looking for where to hide.

The loud music outside had suddenly gone mute. All we could hear, was policemen shouting, “If you move, I’ll shoot!” I knew this was the end of my stupidity. It was a Police raid.



To be continued…

TALES FROM THE GHETTO: FROM BOYS TO MEN (LNS, +18)

As we shared a jumbo sized weed and shots of local gin, excitement ran through my veins. I felt really good with myself. The thought of ‘becoming a Man’ on that fateful evening was overwhelming. The cool evening breeze smelt like it was going to rain.

Uchenna had been told about our car tragedy and had suggested to initiate us from ‘Boys to Men’. According to him, our action was laudable and deserved to be celebrated. Michael, Nuru and I were 15, 16 and 15 years respectively. Uchenna was far older than us, but his shameless attitude did not qualify him for the title, ‘Bros’ or ‘Brother Uchenna’, as we addressed others who were even less his age. It was so normal to call the 35-year old, by his name.

The whole car drama faded too soon, especially because my father did not punish me for my role in the accident. The issue was literally swept under the carpet, because Michael’s dad had told Nuru’s and my parents that they should not worry, as regards contributing to fix the damaged car. As I listened to my dad and Michael’s dad from the room, I heard Michael’s dad say, “We should be thankful that they did not kill themselves. What would we have been discussing today?” I nodded in agreement and hoped my dad would not kill me later, himself.

On our way to Sabrina Motel, Uchenna had warned us to be watchful, “Make sure your neighbor or anybody you know, don’t see you going in” he said. He walked into the motel’s narrow gate, looking back at us to follow his lead. We all walked to the bar, and occupied a table for four. Michael, Nuru and I had to share a bottle of big stout, because we had to ensure that we reserved enough money to pay for the service we came for. “Can you see these girls strolling around?” Uchenna asked. “If you see anyone you like, just walk up to her and say, how far?” He went over all the things he had told us while we were at the local joint… “Don’t forget to ask for condoms. They always have”, he chipped in.

I was the last to get a girl. Choosing was difficult; all the ladies were 'matured'. I wanted a girl with big butts and big boobs, but the one I saw looked older than my mom. I eventually saw one coming out with a client. She wasn’t as old as the first one I saw. She had huge boobs, but her behind was not as big as I wished. I just had to go after her, before someone else picked her.

“Good evening aunty”, I said.

“Evening, how you dey?” she replied.

My words were scripted according to what Uchenna told us. The only part that did not align with the script was where I said ‘Good evening aunty’.

As I stepped into a fairly lit room with the lady, I felt sweat roll down my forehead. A rough looking bed covered a major space in the room. Obviously, she had not arranged it after her last client. There’s a cloth hanger on the wall, and a rack behind the door, where she displayed cans of beverages. The ceiling fan blew hot air, and the only window on the right side of the room was covered with a double layered curtain.

“Ca can I ha have a co-co-condom, please?” I stuttered.

“Shwwoo! You be JJC for here?” she replied.

Confused, I lied “No! Why?”

“Because you never pay me; you come dey ask for condom” she said. The sneer on her face was visible in the almost dark room.

Uchenna had told us earlier that they ask for money before anything but we should be careful so they don’t take advantage of the fact that we were young. I thought of insisting to ‘do’ first, before paying, but something just asked me to flow with the tide. Especially when she sat on the bed, and asked me to come closer. “Oya pull”, she said, “and where my money?” as she reached for my ‘thing’.

I handed her three new twenty Naira notes and demanded for a balance of ten Naira immediately. She inspected the notes with her bedside lamp, and drew out an old ten Naira note underneath the lamp and handed it to me. I had to squeeze it in my palm to focus on the goal.

As a growing kid, I was not very curious about sex. I was probably preoccupied with so many other mischiefs. Hence, the short time I spent in this hotel room, opened my eyes to a different part of life. I wasn’t feeling anything as I pumped in and out of her. I remember pausing to press her boobs and how she had shouted at me to stop. “I resemble ya babe? Na breast you come press here, abi na fuck? Abeg do quick, make you stand up from my body jor”. I didn’t like her attitude, but I didn’t care; I continued. Uchenna had instructed not to stand up, until we ‘released’.

Orgasm didn’t feel strange, as sometimes, I had wet dreams, but the lady pushed me off immediately I came. I even tried to hold a simple conversation as I was dressing up, “you are such a fine girl, so why are you doing this?” A line that was Uchenna’s idea, when he was tutoring us. “Leave my room before I shout ‘Ole for ya head”, she replied. I couldn’t understand her frustration, but I left anyway.

Nuru and Uchenna have been back at the bar already, waiting for the rest of us. “Where is Michael?” I asked.

“He is not out, yet”, Uchenna replied.

“But he went inside before Nuru and me,” I said.

“Yes na! E dey happen”, Uchenna replied, as he nodded to 2Pac and Dr. Dre’s “California Love” playing from the bad speakers of the motel.

Michael eventually came out, looking harassed. It was so funny. I wanted to ask him why he was there for so long, but I thought to leave it for later. We all sneaked out of the motel behind Uchenna.


I was supposed to be afraid and running home from the motel, because it was a few minutes to 9pm, and my parents would have been looking for me, but I didn't. We all walked silently back to our hood, with each person signing out at the front of his house.


To be continued…

TALES FROM THE GHETTO: “YOU CAN PUT THE BLAME ON ME”

We thought it was best to get home as soon as we could, and park the car before Michael’s father returns. I could have sworn there was a Police checkpoint at the exit side of Liverpool Bridge, but for some weird reasons, the Policemen were not there when we were leaving Apapa. If we would have gotten home before Michael’s dad, the several stops to refill the car’s radiator obstructed our plans. At a point, we used a 25litre rubber, meant for fuel, to fetch water along the road. This has got to be my most dramatic day ever.

TALES FROM THE GHETTO: FROM FRYING PAN TO FIRE

Three days after, my back was still aching from my dad’s whiplashes; whose bright idea was koboko anyway? I probably wouldn’t have been flogged if my eyes weren’t bloodshot and my speech impeded at the same time. My dad only pointed at his almighty koboko (horsewhip) on the wall for Michael to crack; giving the most detailed confession of all time. I couldn’t blame him, though. Everybody in the neighborhood knew my dad was a no-nonsense disciplinarian. The thought that he was going to flog the three of us if we didn’t confess, was enough to make Michael talk. I knew I was doomed when my dad signaled to the door and asked my friends to go home. “Tell your parents what you did before I get to your houses”, my dad said and then locked the door after them.

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TALES FROM THE GHETTO: THE BLUNT TRUTH

My name is Innocent Oghenekome. I’m from Delta State but was born and raised in Lagos. I come from a very good home. My parents are Christians. My dad was the best at ‘spoiling the cane and sparing the child’. The black marks on my buttocks are credited to him. Even at that, children will grow up and the environment will always play its role. Every Tuesday, I’ll be sharing stories of my growing up in the ghetto with you. Enjoy the read.