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BEST DRESSED GUYS

ON CAMPUS

THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO

ROACH-ASS SPEED DARLINGTHON: THE KING OF

HIP-FLOP PERFECT

PLACES IS HOSTEL SPELLED AS

H.U.S.T.L.E?

Melanin February, 2018

NNAMANI CHIEMERIE | FOUNDER

NNAMANI HENRY UCHENNA PRINCIPAL PARTNER

IKWUKA OBINNA VAL ASSOCIATE

CHINEDU CHUKWU ASSOCIATE

Editor’s Note

W

LIONSPOT EDITOR IN CHIEF

HANDS OVER

Amarachi Nickabugu

Dike Jubal Okoye

Josh Emeka Chizoma

T

he editor in chief of LIONSPOT MAGAZINE formally hands over the editorial mantle to Ms. Rosemary Meziem who shall from the next issue of the magazine serve as the editor in chief for a one-year term. Ms. Rosemary Meziem is a 4th year Business Management student of the University of Nigeria.

Chinaza Ngoddy

Kelechi Chinwendu Kelechi

Maryann Okogwu

EDITORS

e the people of Lionspot have always overdone ourselves in unlatching ways to improve our craft so as to serve you better since the first edition of this magazine hit the newsstands six years ago. We have always seen this school as a two-way traffic of our lives, uniting our previous experiences with the expectations that lie ahead, and giving us the lantern that enable us pick the right path from the tunnel of ignorance to knowledge. We give you Melanin in this season of love. Love is most evident in the small things: The bright blackness of skins united in passion, the memories of laughter shared with friends, our successes and experiences here on campus. Today's reality has evolved many forms of relationships: Friends with Benefits, Friends with Occasional Benefits, Carnal Ambition, etc. But the reality remains that true love has become illusory. We urge you to take this with clarity and in draws, as we enter the month of love. Let these words find refuge in the repositories of your hearts, for the days ahead. This issue is my last as the editor in chief. This magazine will have a new editor in chief effective from the next edition. I sense a surge of emotion as I write this, a trickling of nostalgic tears. I appreciate the support of the entire student community and the efforts of all my supporters, with particularity, my editors at Lionspot Magazine. I wish the entire student body I served in the last one year a great experience in this edition. “If the end product of our creativity is not extra-ordinary and does not push the frontiers of our foreseeable limits, then it is not ENOUGH!” We have ever believed in this dogma, and so have some of the most successful Lionspot models such as Stephanie Agbasi, Chikaodili Enobong Nna-Udosen, Clara Chukwu, etc. Steph's career started in her second year when she was selected as one of the ten most stunning freshers by Lionspot in 2014. Then she appeared on the cover of 'Back to December' issue later that year. That foundation, in the same light with our dogma, has driven her to grounds yet to be trodden by other men. Last year, she was crowned Miss Universe Nigeria and went on to represent Nigeria at the Miss Universe pageant in Las Vegas, USA. That is the spirit of the Lionspot creed. Get up now and say it. Be bold. Be unstoppable. FOR SPONSPRSHIP, ADVERTS, ENQUIRIES, MODELING, SUGGESTIONS AND COMPLAINTS, PLEASE CALL: 08171069962.

OUR COVER MODELS. MS. DEBBIE NWOSU, 200 LEVEL, PURE & INDUSTRIAL CHEMISTRY, UZOCHUKWU MICHAEL OKEKE( LASBORNE), 400 LEVEL, GEOINFORMATICS & SURVEYING.

OUR ABC

SEX TIMETABLE By Elektra

I

have this twentieth century arrangement with my partner, and it seems plausible since we stay apart only to meet on special occasions, when our job allows. So we came up with a timetable which we termed ABC Sex Timetable, where ABC stands for anniversary, birthday, and Christmas. We have sex only on our anniversary day, on our birthdays, and on Christmas. Our friends think we are stupid though, stupid people form stupid relationships they say. But the truth is that the thrill lies in the waiting and then eventual meeting. Talk about fallowing. You wouldn't understand until you get a first

class voyeur ticket to watch us spend the passion accumulated from months of waiting and lusting. And our work doesn't really give us much time, and then there is the distance. She stays in Abuja while i stay in Lagos. It's not really about love, not even chemistry, but more like compatibility. Like pieces of a puzzle that always fit together even after being apart for so long. She understood I wanted her the moment I walked over to her table to say hi, and I understood she was not one to shy away from what she wanted too when she invited me in after the second date. Yeah, it was that easy.

The relationship isn't really open either, like we don't take pleasure from the sides. We perfectly understood we were self-sufficient for each other. So for the anniversary sex, we always meet at her apartment in Abuja on the weekend of that week. We first go on a date at our favourite restaurant, stroll back half of the way holding hands and fondling, then come back home to drink and fuck. Then continue the next morning, so when I finally leave her on Sunday afternoon to go back to Lagos, I make sure I have no drop of passion remaining. Sometimes it's so bad that I can't even stare at erring backsides. And for the birthday sex, we meet at a hotel, still on the weekend. We throw a

party; buy gifts that we sometimes don't get to open, make love, and sleep naked. And I always wake her up with breakfast in bed (room service of course). Then we spend the rest of the weekend cuddling, and hiding away from our mutual friends. Then we check out together on Sunday. Christmas is our favourite time together, like there is no rush or struggle to meet deadlines. So we lounge in bed, and explore the Christmas spirit. Then we go shopping afterwards; to buy more supplies, Christmas décor, and gifts for friends. Then we take turns holding the mistletoe, and I don't think you want to know what happens afterwards.

THAT THING

YOU

DID

By Obianuju Chisom Bartholomew

Y

our hands shiver as you watch the brownish wooden box being put into the hole. Your best friend, Kachi is by your side, holding your hand. He is now in some place that you do not know — Chikwe, the medical student who knew how to make you laugh without trying too much. Chikwe grew up in Lagos like you did. And while his reason for choosing to study at the University of Nigeria was because he was from Enugu State, yours was that your parents felt that you had spent too many years with Yoruba people. Chikwe was the type of boy that cooked delicious ogbono soup and made sure that all his things remained as neat as possible despite his stay in IJ hostel. He was the type of student that did not allow his health issues prevent him from frowning at a B grade. He was a loner. He was a lot different from your ex-boyfriend Dozie. 'I know that he is fine but he is not your class Ihuoma,' Kachi said, one night when you returned late to your lodge. 'I rather not discuss it,' your tone was flat. 'See Ihuoma, if this is about showing Dozie that your world does not revolve around him, then you need to date a happening guy on campus and not a lower middle-class b... ''Stop! How dare you? Do not say such thing again." You noticed the surprise that appeared on Kachi's face. 'Is this love, Ihuoma? This fury that I'm seeing in your eyes? When did you become this cheap?' You made no reply and walked away from her. Chikwe visited you on the Saturday of that weekend. He prepared a delicious Onugbu soup for you and after eating without remains, you moved towards the couch and sat on his laps. You tried to kiss him but he declined. Then he looked at you. 'Ihuoma, I have told you this before. Sexual intercourse before marriage is strongly against my beliefs or do you want me to stop visiting you here?' You smiled and said nothing. You always found his shyness sexy. The following night, when you returned late from a seminar inside school, you saw a tall and dark masculine figure standing before your door. You looked closely. It was Dozie. He was wearing a native attire top with jeans trousers. He walked towards you. 'Always beautiful! Asam!' He gave you that smile of his that made you fall for him three years ago— when you were just a new admit into the University of Nigeria. 'What are you doing here?' You looked away. 'Oh, c'mon Ihuoma! I miss you! What else?' He came closer to you and gently pulled you to him. 'I was not thinking straight. You know me now. I miss you'. You questioned him with your eyes, pushed him aside

and walked into your lodge. When you saw him two day later at Kirsh & Grills, having a conversation with one of his friends, Raymond, you pretended not to notice them. You walked away. You knew he would come after you and he did, right outside Kirsh. 'Ihuoma, wait now.' You turned to stare at him. 'I don't think that it is fitting for the president of the Students Union Government to be chasing girls in public," You uttered and he gave you a disdainful look. 'Is it because of that nonentity that you are talking like that to me or do you think that I do not know that you are dating that squirrel, Chikwe Obi, that nobody. See, he does not have enough stamina for you. He's sickly.' You said nothing and walked out on him. And you thought that you had things working your way until that Friday evening when Chikwe came to your lodge and you were certain that he would never visit you again. The sun came out harsh on the morning of that friday and would later melt like dissolving sugar into a gray atmosphere. Chikwe's death was something that came late in the evening, after the both of you had finished eating the palm oil rice he cooked with stockfish. It was something that came after Dozie had walked in on you laughing hard at something that Chikwe was saying. What you told his parents and later, the dean of the student affairs, was that the both of you had just finished eating when Dozie walked in and that immediately, Chikwe began to have a seizure. That your three neighbours had all gone out for Friday night clubbing, which was the truth, although not all of it. That you searched for his inhaler but neither found it in his clothes nor his wallet. That Dozie had rushed to call the security guard which yielded nothing really, because Chikwe died before he could be reached to a hospital. You expected the irrational belligerence that parents usually displayed, screaming words like 'You killed my son'. But his parents were calmer than you. It was like they had foreseen the event. You skipped lectures for a whole week, grieving. When your parents came, they were not even angry that you had had a You walk towards Chikwe's mother now and stand beside her. She cries so hopelessly as the final sand is poured on the casket. You are forced to join her. You are not crying because it represents a finality. Your heart is aching because you know that Chikwe died thinking wrongly about your feelings for him. Kachi had been right, you had always wanted Dozie back. Chikwe was only what you used to distract yourself from the heart break that Dozie caused you. And the night that Dozie came to your lodge begging, you couldn't sleep because your stomach was filled with so much excitement. But you didn't want to forgive him so quickly. It had tortured you to see him

with other girls. You wanted him to suffer a little for dumping you one week after he won the election of the S.U.G. president. You wanted to see his jealousy burn hot enough seeing you and Chikwe together. But you just really wanted him back. Dozie is also here at the burial. He is standing at the back with some of your friends who are here to support you. And beneath the dullness in his eyes, you see his utter gratitude, because he had not told you to skip the parts of the incident that you did not tell Chikwe's parents and the dean— the parts where when he walked in on you and Chikwe, you saw the fury lit up his eyes. 'So, it is because of this sick thing that you refused to come back to me?' You stood up and so did Chikwe. 'Mr man watch your tongue. Do not refer to me as a sick thing again.' Chikwe replied. 'Or what? Look Ihuoma, he is not finer than me and he is a nobody on campus.' ‘He means a lot to me,' You blurted out. A wicked enthusiasm was secretly rising in you. "Wow, this ugly sicklier here,' Dozie chuckled and before you could utter another word, Chikwe had made his way to fight Dozie when his inhaler fell down from his breast pocket and found its way to Dozie's left leg. 'Give it back,' You could hear the panic in Chikwe's voice. 'Oh, so now you want it back. Ihuoma this is the thing you choose to date right?, one whose life depends on this plastic.' 'I said give it back.' Chikwe's face was turning gray. Dozie smiled and before you could utter a word, he crushed the inhaler with his foot. Chikwe rushed him to the ground and with little effort, punched him. He was able to push Chikwe aside and was about to retaliate when Chikwe began gasping for air. 'Coward! You would rather fake a seizure than receive a punch.' You rushed to Chikwe and saw in his eyes that it was an actual seizure. 'He is just pretending. That's the wuss you call a boyfriend.'' Dozie said. 'He's dying,' you shouted at Dozie. ‘You destroyed his inhaler and now he is dying,' You repeated. Panic was the mask on your face and you could also see it rising in Dozie's eyes. 'Call the security guard.' Dozie rushed out of the room and your first impulse was to pick up the pieces of the inhaler and hide it in your bra. Chikwe's mother hugs you now. She whispers, 'Thank you my daughter'. You nod as she walks away. You are afraid that if you say a word, everyone will recognize you for what you really are.

happy and made merry. And the word of the Lord came unto Eliphat, the prophet of the Lord at Okigwe saying, 11 “Go ye into Owerri, even into the presence of the governor. And so shall ye speak unto him: 'The heart of the Lord has departed from thee for thou removest the choicest sheep from the temple of the Most High, even the fattened cow reserved for atonement and maketh feast with a pagan. Harken to my words, son of Okorocha, the face of The Most High has departed from thee. Thou shall fall into such folly that shall make the world wonder. Any man who heareth of thy folly shall tremble and say: Is there such folly in a man?'” 12 And he went, and came into the house of Ehitophel, the seller of wine, and lodged there. 13 And Eliphat came to the presence of the governor and spoke the word of the Lord. But the heart of the governor was unchanged, because the Lord hath hardened his heart. 14 So Eliphat returned unto Okigwe with his manservant, and the people did fear saying, “What hath become of us, the face of Most High is turned from us.” Chapter 2 1 Now Roach-Ass, the son of Okorocha honoured the king of Zulu. And unto him did he give five hundred chariots of gold, two-hundred chariots of silver, five thousand hand-maidens and ten thousand man-servants. 2 And this abomination by Roach-Ass angered the Lord, and He made his heart harder, such that his cruelty on the children of Imo increased. 3 Now, the governor hath also hired men of craft that they made a giant graven image of Jacob, the son of Zuma, who was king over the sons of Zulu. 4 And the height of the image thereof was ten cubit and two span, and the weight thereof was equals two thousand measure of brass. 5 And the garment thereof was that of the noble men of the East, even in the hinterland of China. 6 And he placed the graven image at the Centre of the city of Owerri. And unto Zuma, the king of Zulu, was a title given which was higher above any other in the province of Imo. 7 Also, the Governor nameth a street of the city after him. These were the manner with which king Zuma was honoured. 8 And Roach-Ass the son of Okoracha built an altar in Mbaise, in the holy place of the Lord, and worshipped the image. So did he make the children of Imo do too. 9 And the land was filled with suffering and death, for the Lord turned their enemies against them, and raised a famine which killeth them, and pestilence which troubleth them. 10 All these things happened on the tenth month of the sixth year that Roach-Ass the son of Okorocha reigned as Governor over the province of Imo. 11 But it came to pass that when it was told the 10

THE GOSPEL ACCORDING

TO THE BOOK OF

ROACH-ASS Chapter 1 And it came to pass that a certain man from the tribe of Orlu by the name Roach-Ass whose father was Okorocha was appointed governor over the province of Imo. 2 In the sixth year of his reign, in the second year of the reign of Buharia, who reigned over the Kingdom of Nigeria, from the high mountains of Aso, even unto the plains of Mbaise, the Lord prospered his reign and his Kingdom waxed stronger. 3 And it happened that Roach-Ass the son of Okorocha sent out of Owerri two messengers to the Lands of Zulu, even far into the plains of the South. 4 And he said to them, “In this manner shall ye speak to the king, 'Thou are highly favored in the eyes of my Lord, even among the people of the province of Imo, therefore biddest my Lord that thou cometh this day to meat in my kingdom that thou mayest be honoured'”. 5 And they went, and did according to the words

of the governor. And it came to pass that on the twenty-fifth day on the month of November, the king of Zulu, Jacob the son of Zuma, entered into the province of Imo, even into the city of Owerri, the dwelling place of the Governor. 7 And it was told unto Roach-Ass saying, “Behold! The King of Zulu cometh unto our province, even unto the dwelling place of the governor and abideth.” 8 And Roach-Ass ordered “Bring forth the choicest lamb, and the choicest sheep, and the fattened cow from Daura preserved for atonement, even the cow gotten from the highlands of Katsina, make feast and merry. For unto us cometh the King of Zulu, and he be come unto us to make merry.” 9 And so the servants of the house of Roach-Ass harkened unto his words and brought forth the choicest lamb from the temple, and the choicest sheep, and fine silk and colorful linen. And they laid it down before the King of Zulu, and he was

1

6

people that the Governor hath spent five hundred and thirty million shekels of gold and silver for the graven image of Jacob, the son of Zuma that they were wroth with anger. 11 And it grieved the laborers of the province and they took counsel among one another and saith, “But how shall this thing be? Is Jacob the son of Zuma also among the righteous men? 12 Howbeit that the son of Zuma was honoured in this manner in the province of Imo? Is not he the same king that dealeth dishonorably in the manner that he spent the gold and silver from the treasury of his country? Is not he that the magistrate put a charge against for taking bribed? 13 Is not it under the reigns of this king that his people persecute our brethren who dwelleth in their country and even put many to death and rendered their businesses desolate? 14 Howbeit the Governor treat us with great disdain? For we laboureth for over ninety days without wages and he said unto us “Be thou of long suffering for there is no gold and silver in the treasury that I may pay thee thy wages”. And yet he spent millions of shekels to honour the son of Zuma.” 15 And the head of the laborers declared according to this words unto the people saying, “Arise this day and gird thy loins for we shall march across the city of Owerri, even unto the gate of the Governor. 16 And they marched across the city and declared according to this words unto the Governor, “Thou dealeth treacherously with us in the manner thou sayeth 'there is no gold and silver in the treasury that I may pay thee thy wages'. Wherefore thou honoureth the son of Zuma with so much riches from the treasury? 17 This thing shall ye do, Oh Governor. Remove the graven image of Jacob the son of Zuma from the city that there might be peace in the land. 18 Thou hast made us turn away from the God of our fathers, that his heavy hand be fall upon us. Remove the image, that the wroth of the Lord shall be turned away.” 19 And so they spake to the governor, and he replied them in this manner: 20 “Harken unto my voice oh ye inhabitants of the land. I shall not be careful in the manner with which I answereth thee on this matter.” 21 And the people lamented and said “Woe unto us! Behold, the evil spirit from the Lord hath entered into the Governor. And yet many saith, verily verily, the Governor is afflicted with insanity.” 22 But the Governor doeth not according to the words of the labourers, for unto this day, the statue of Jacob the son of Zuma remaineth in city of Owerri. 23 And so the word of the Lord through Eliphat his servant was fulfilled. And when word came to people of such folly, they sayest “Is there such folly in a man?”

SPEED DARLINGTON:

THE KING OF

HIP-FLOP By Elektra

T

he first time a friend asked if i knew Speed Darlington, i was not prepared for the eccentricity that was Speed Darlington. I finally decided to spare a few MB and see what the fuss was about, and boy was i shook. In the light of Nigerians not recognizing what they have, they had to see Diddy's post of how Speedy inspires him to fully convince them. Mind you, this guy has been doing music since 2011 releasing ridiculous songs like “Greatest Tank Battle”, “My Party” “Hustle Hard”, and even had an epic twitter battle with Vic-o over who was the better singer. He won but still did not “blow”, so Diddy had to 'intervene' and help his blowing. And don't forget the video from Kraks TV suggesting that we 'dash' Speedy to the Ghanaians and get our Mr Eazi back. Who said it didn't help his blowing? Speed Darlington alludes to his sexual prowess with nicknames like Scorpion king, Energy God Himself and Energy Master, and his love for the obscene with song titles like Money and Pussy, 50 inches or better. But one thing

admirable about Speed Darlington is his passion, i mean the guy keeps dropping songs and does not give a hoot about people criticizing his strange music. And you can say he started a new genre of music, hip-flop, with the likes of his bangdadadang and the more recent one from Big Shaq, titled Man's not Hot. I pray more artistes embrace this genre though, i mean who serious music epp? Leave serious music for the Grammy awards. Also, it's no news that Speedy has a huge crush on Tonto Dike and even dedicated a freestyle he dropped recently, the effortless handwork was appreciated by the ever popular coquette, Tonto, with an awwww speedy baby reply. And the bangdadadang master has also invited rivals Wizkid Dayo and Davido, to feature in the remix of his hit single, bangdadadang Speed Darlington is enough reason that Nigerians, not minding their pretense and pitiable show of piety for the likes of Bobrisky . Their followers and subscribers on Instagram, Facebook and YouTube are enough proof. In one word, Nigerians love reality TV, and Reality TV stars. And Nigerians love him so much that some stars had to do a cover of his hit single, bangdadadang. Nigerians and their love for professional mad people though.

MAN OF CHARISMA

H

e speaks the language of peace and freedom. Meet our very own, Umeano Okechukwu Lotanna, 500L Medicine and Surgery. Born and bred in Anambra State, to a family of seasoned Doctors, his parents' meeting was a loved-up affair in University of Nigeria, Enugu Campus (UNEC), and Lottie's (as he is fondly called) dream is to match up to their beautiful affair. Indeed a Majority Leader, Lottie has

served twice in UNMSA House of Representatives. Our man prides himself on being a good judge of character - you can't be shady next to him, because he will find you out. Our Lottie is a pacifist and an outspoken Libertarian. He loves the arts, music, poetry, the lot! And he is not left out in the athletic arena as he bagged UNMSA Sportsman of the Year in 2016. Talks about multi-tasking. Give it up for our very own!

SURVIVOR By Paul Ezeodili

"

Amaka, just this once. Okay? Just this once," He said as he approached me in a most inauspicious manner. I looked into his bloodshot eyes and all I could see was the devil's intent. Gradually, he came closer to me, taking measured steps like a tiger stalking its prey. My body, cringing with each step he took, responded by taking steps backward. I could see that he had made up his mind: He was going to make a Heavenly passage into me, whether my Angels liked it or not. And if the Heavenly red gate was locked, He was prepared to break in. "No! Please," I managed to say between whimpers, but the sound of my voice only seemed to excite him. He reminded me of Batman's Joker, as the sinister grin he wore grew wider. I tried begging but this time, all it did was infuriate him. He was unstable. "Shut up! Shut up!" He shouted with much fury, the Devil must have flinched. "Commot your cloth," he ordered through gritted teeth, when he was standing only a few inches away from me. I couldn't move back anymore as I was already backed up against the wall. Escaping seemed like an impossible feat. The door to my room, which we were, had been locked and it was behind him. After I refused to take my clothes off, he grabbed the collar of my pink night gown. The only night gown I had and cherished, he was going to rip it of me to get me naked. I couldn't allow that so I resisted by slapping his

arm as hard as my feeble hand allowed. And that was when he hit me. He slapped me on my left cheek, his 5 fingers covering half of my face. That was the first time I actually saw stars, red and blue stars. It was the kind of slap that can make your eyes bounce around like ping pong balls. My vision became blurred. I staggered. He suceeded in yanking my night gown off of my body, leaving me with this white pant I had been wearing for 5 days. Well, at least, it was white. Now, the pant was something between grey and brown. As if me being naked was worse than being defiled, instincts took over and I proceeded to cover my breasts with my hands. I guarded it from his sight, like it was the last treasure I owned, those plumpy breasts of mine. The sight of me being miserable like that, only seemed to amuse him. He chuckled. "Amaka, won't you let me just do and go?" He said. "No," I replied "Stupid girl," He said. Suddenly he kicked my thin legs so hard, I landed on my large butt. My cries of, please, please and don't, seemed like music to his ears as he made his way to descend upon me. I knew taking off my pants would be his next move, so I left my breasts and gripped my pants as firmly as I could. He tried to pull it off but I didn't let go until he grabbed my neck, chocking. I was forced to let go as I feared if he held my neck any longer, he would kill me. With a smile, he took my pants off, leaving me utterlly naked.

Franctically, my hands began to search around, looking for something hard, something large. My fingers touched something and I grabbed it. I didn't know what it was until I swung it at his head. It was not until he stood up from me shouting, "Jesus Christ", that I realised I was holding a pressing Iron. I hurriedly got up and put my pants back on. My breasts were still bare but I didn't care anymore. I started to feel like Samson, like the holy spirit had just descended upon me and given me strenght to defend myself. He charged at me, like a raging bull, with blood dripping from his head. I halted him by kicking him where the Sun doesn't shine. He groaned sorrowfully and placed his hands where he hurt the most. I began to feel powerful, enraged. I didn't stop there, I hit his head again. It was when he fell down and lay

motionless on the floor that I realised I might have killed him. A pool of blood began to spread, soaking his hair. Suddenly, I felt crippled with fear. was he dead? I wondered. I called the police and before long, there were two Police officers and an ambulance in our yard. "What's your name?" One of the officers asked me. "My name na Amaka," I told him. "How old are you, Amaka?" "I go enter 16 years old for September," I informed him. "Tell me, Amaka, who is that Man to you?" "Na my Papa oo," I said "Your daddy," the Officer said. He brought out a note pad and jotted some things down, then he said, "Now, tell me what exactly happened." I sniffed "Officer, it is starting like this..."

PERFECT PLACES... SPECIAL MENTION

Humanity was to me, one of these many Races For blood could be shed for money and shiny Necklaces Some grow to be 'black and white' racists Others seem not to know for what's sake this race is Demons and their beautiful Faces; Was all I saw in hearts of men and these pretty Ladies Paradise;

We recognize a very special lady, Miss Onyinyeoma Onyemaobi Uzoma of Caritas University, Enugu. A perfect mix of beauty and brains.

Where red remain red when call'd Where stones become feathers when hurl'd Where glass remain glass when shattered. If it does exist, Then I'll tie my worn out Shoelaces Onward, in search of such Perfect Places... -Dike

Her kind nature and ambience has not gone unnoticed to us at Lionspot. We see you, and we hope that you continue to be a shining light on campus and the entire country at large.

TO THE

STARS

WITH NO NAME These spectresShadows of the night weaving darkness into dreams Leak into the synapses of soul- a void and pain Snapping at the tatters of my smile like a dying child's plaything DarknessDarkness is not the fall of the day in fading ribbons of gold Not the sunset's laughter playing across the sky

Darkness is the overcast of broken things Waltzing through the mindin dull colours Opposites- woven into grim things broken dreams, shots, a razor blade Plastic smiles, well worn and faded scars from your bleeding game It is the pauseas the blade taunts the skin, another scar to fade as the earth is washed in red, your red

BIGGEST SONGS RIGHT NOW ON LIONSPOT.COM Davido, Wizkid and Tubaba are top 3 this week on Biggest Songs Right Now on www.lionspot.com. (19th January – 24th February, 2018) B.S.R.N are updated weekly on www.lionspot.com DAVIDO

FIA

It is your heart, worn from countless dying seasons Your love, bled of the subtleties of feeling It is your eyes And through your eyes, I see the void , calling from the other side of this playground Creeping, like a leech, to bleed again You are hesitant. Linger Linger longer here Ihechi, 2017

1. FIA by Davido

7. Melanin by Sauti Sol x

2. Malo by Tiwa Savage x Wizkid

Patoranking

3. Gaaga Shuffle by 2baba

8. Isi Ego by Phyno

4. Science Student by Olamide

9. No Do by Kiss Daniel

5. Sugarcane by Tiwa Savage

10. Wo by Olamide

6. Ada by Dj Ecool x Davido

BEST DRESSED

GUYS IN UNN Looking good is good business. It is extremely costly too. As students, it can be really be tasking on our allowee-dominated bank accounts. However, some guys in UNN tower heads and heels above others. Although an inconclusive list, Lionspot still went to town to select our best dressed guys on campus. In no particular order, we present:

CHUKWUEMEKA KENE

TEN REASONS WHY WE MISS MO'HITS RECORDS At the height of Nigerian music's golden age, in 2004, Don Jazzy launched the record label Mo'Hits with D'Banj as his main act and coowner. This duo turned out to be a dynamic and explosive one, especially after they signed on artistes like Wande Coal, Dr. Sid and D'Prince. They churned out hit after hit song, bangers that Nigerians couldn't get enough of. It was a crying shame when D'Banj left Mo'Hits in March 2012, precipitating the disbanding of the group and the end of an era. Fingers have been pointed at different people, but that is not the purpose of this post. It was a beautiful 8 years though, and the music they produced will remain evergreen in the minds of Nigerians. I'm feeling nostalgic, so I will make a list of ten of my favourite reasons why Mo'Hits was the best that ever happened to us. 1. TONGOLO (D'BANJ 2005) The first hit by D'Banj that put him on our radios and in our hearts, who didn't twerk to the sleepy heavy beat of this song? 2. WHY ME (D'BANJ, 2006) “She said she wanted to be mine, said my koko drives her wiiiiild, so tell me why me oh!!!” If you know, you know! 3. PERE (D'BANJ AND WANDE COAL, 2007) This is from the album Curriculum Vitae by Mo'Hits All Stars. Honestly, it is difficult to choose a song from this album, it was, in my opinion, Mo'Hits best record. Here they brought Wande Coal's excellent voice with D'Banj's charisma and blended it into a banger that many of us could quote verbatim by the end of the year. 4. BOOTY CALL ( MO'HITS ALL STARS 2007)

“I love that booty, I love that booty…”

CHIEMERIE OKORO

By Margaret Awgu

Niceeeeee jam! Party jam for the ages! Every verse by each of the Mo'Hits stars was a hit back to back! 5. OLOLUFE (WANDE COAL, 2007) This was the song that showed the full range of Wande Coal's vocal prowess, a ballad if ever there was one. Ah, the girls that were wooed by this song! 6. TEN TEN (WANDE COAL, DR SID KSWITCH AND D'PRINCE, 2007) I absolutely love this song! The fact that D'Banj wasn't in it, and yet it was an absolute hit, made me love it even more. 7. GBONO FELI FELI (D'BANJ, 2008) With the release of D'Banj's The Entertainer album, there was a galore of banging songs, and this was one of them. 8. FALL IN LOVE (D'BANJ, 2008) This was the one that raised so many rumours about the relationship between D'Banj and Genevieve Nnaji after she featured in the video. It also showed us a hitherto unknown romantic side of the Koko Master 9. WHO BORN THE MAGA (WANDE COAL, 2008) You remember the tinny crooning of Wande Coal in the beginning of this song, almost reminiscent of a Bollywood song. And then the vocals come in, and all you can do is dance! 10. POP SOMETHING (DR SID, 2010) Played at every graduation, celebration and party with the accompanying “popping chanpagne” act, Dr. Sid's album headliner was also not a disappointment. D'Banj's appearance on this song was a success. All this talk of Mo'Hits is making me terribly nostalgic, let me visit my playlist for some tunes from way back when.

AUSTIN TOCHUKWU

KINGSLEY ONU

PRECIOUS OSUAGWU

CLINTON EKWE

HAVING TO SLEEP UNDER THE BED YOU MADE

FICTION

By Kelechi Chinwedu Kelechi

It was as clear as yesterday. The room smelt damp. Acrid damp. The gold brown roaches pattered about, and the stale air hung hard and heavy, tinged with mothballs and the odour of rotting wood. A large black rat, its nose a dusky silver, scurried hurriedly across the dark expanse of floor underneath the narrow bed, then stopped to sniff at my legs curled up against the far wall. The rats never bite her. I'm yet to know the reason up to this day. The girl who owned them lay in a fetal position, her diminutive knees drawn up to her chin. She shivered. Her cheek was smeared with dust and an intricately woven cobweb draped itself daintily across her nose. The sprightly rat nibbled at a toe, then brushed off in an ungainly sweep when its owner jerked it out of the way. Her name was Ulonna, and she was not quite fourteen years old. She was used to this; the persistent rat, the dust fumes she repeatedly inhaled from under the bed which caused her eyes to smart and her nostrils leak sticky fluid, the spiky haired spider which unperturbedly weaved its web cunningly

across her nose. By now she had been underneath often enough to know just how to move her head right without banging it against the rotting wood frame of the bed canopied above her. Sometimes, he would come, even in her dreams of a white bed he would find her there, exposed and unprotected. And she would snap back to reality, very glad, very relieved indeed that she was still safe underneath her poor, narrow bed. There was something wrong with the bed, something crawling and evil. Every night, dutifully, she made the bed. Time had been when she slept in it, snuggling tightly against the faded pink bedclothes. Then he came. Always he was drunk, his eyes a clear cold red, bloodshot and puffy from the ticketcollecting job he does at Upper Iweka Motor Park in Onitsha, Anambra state. His shadow loomed dark and monstrous over them both as he did what he did, sometimes rolling her over along with all the bedclothes. He humped hard and long, his sweat soaking into her skin, his spittle drooling onto her chin.

So every night she made the bed, and crept underneath to sleep in peace with the regal roaches and the silver-nosed, friendly rat and the fuzzy spider which wove its cunning web across her nose. She was safe here, there was no fear. In the damp darkness she was one with them. He would come still, always. Even now she could hear him stumble in through the door in a drunken haze. He would climb heavily onto the bed to hump unsuspectingly the life-sized Barbie she draped tangled in the bedclothes. And she would sleep soundly beneath it all, dreaming of the big white bed and its downy, billowy sheets, as she lay underneath the narrow creaking bed and the dust fumes stung beneath her shuttered eyes. But tonight, like some other nights he was not drunk, indeed he was clear eyed this time. He called her name sharply and with a murderous edge to it. Cold fear gripped the child underneath the bed. She did not move, could not move. “Ulonna!” The harsh barking grated across the room. He hissed, stomped about.

When her mother died, she'd left a note. “Be good to our daughter,” the note said to the step dad. “Ulonna!” The pair of puffy eyes raked underneath the bed, reddened now with rage. Her step father's rough, calloused hands dragged the wide-eyed, bed-ragged girl up and out from the dark, damp safety of her hideout. He slapped a hard palm brutally across her now tear streaked face, bruising her lower lip. “I got into a fight today trying to make some money to pay for your schoolbooks. You never reciprocate. Anuofia, animal!” his spittle flew free. He hit her again, and again, till the blood and snot rushed from her nostrils and her screams became only a trembling whimper. With an arm like an iron gauntlet he pinioned her onto the bed. “You listen; you are going to do what your mother would do if she was here, and you're going to do it right!” He tore off her bedclothes, gripping her naked flesh hard, slapping apart her quivering legs. He ground hard against her tiny, malnourished frame. He was rough, he

was brief. The white lights flashed in and out of the child's eyes as the pain haze intensified. Dissociating, she could hear nothing, see nothing. The sweat poured from him. He pushed and grunted and groaned deep and primal. The Barbie fell off the bed; a rotting wood frame gave underneath their combined weight. The bed rattled and creaked and fell apart at the seams. An oblivious mosquito whined its music about her ears, fluttering its wings as it moved along. Her blood trickled slowly like a secret, a silent witness, between her stiff thighs. When he finished she lay there unmoving. Today she lies on her college bed, short of tuition and on the verge of dropping out, still the lean skeletal frame she was when she left him. She wipes off the tear on her face, remembering her escape, remembering the insistence of Nigerian justice system to turn deaf ears to people like her. People who have no money, people with no voice. That girl's name is not Ulonna. That girl was me, eleven years ago.

ALEX FOR THE WIN UNN representative to this year's BBnaija, Miss Asogwa Alexandra Amuche Sandra (Alex) has come a long way. The 300-level student of Agric. Extention department is a blend of beauty and melanin, and perseverance; qualities we admire at Lionspot. We now have Most Beautiful Girl in Nigeria, Miss Steph. Agbasi (Yes. She is our MBGN), and now Alex the winner of the BBnaija Double Wahala.

MODEL OF THE MONTH

Alex winning the prize is a dream, one you could make happen. Click on www.africamagic.tv/bbvote and get registered so we can all give her the support she needs.

Clara Chukwu, 3oo Level, Banking and Finance, UNN.

SIX MOST ROMANTIC MOVIES TO SEE THIS VALENTINE SEASON Ah love! Whether basking in it or just taking time for self-love, 'tis the season. Film critic Peter Travers has put together a list of seven of the most romantic flicks to get into the spirit of the day. So grab the remote, a cozy blanket and settle in. By Emmanuel Chukwu

Richard Jenkins and Sally Hawkins in "The Shape of Water."

PERSONALITY OF THE MONTH

1. “The Shape of Water” In director Guillermo del Toro's “The Shape of Water,” a mute cleaning woman falls in love with a creature she discovers in a secret government laboratory. “If you want to see something romantic try The Shape of Water, which is the favorite movie to win the Oscar this year,” said Travers. “It's very romantic, even though it's a woman falling in love with a monster. But it's a monster with a good heart.”

Hugh Grant and Martine McCutcheon in a scene from "Love Actually."

2. “Love Actually” This Christmas-themed romantic comedy from director Richard Curtis has already become a classic. It boasts a great lineup of stars including Hugh Grant, Kiera Knightley, Liam Neeson, Laura Linney and Colin Firth. “There's something about that movie, which tells about six or seven different stories of couples coming together, parting and then feeling a little bittersweet about it," Travers said. "There's not a happy ending for everybody, but there's enough."

Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Zooey Deschanel in a scene from "500 Days of Summer."

Social outlaws are such sexy beasts! If you don't agree, here's proof: bathed in shinning light is our loverboy Gboka – short for Aniegboka Chukwudalu John, 300L Banking and Finance. He's got 200 funny bones, yet remains so outstanding with his academics (I told you I was right that 60% fun plus 40% academics makes a perfect score!). He models his life after our popular comic actor Mr. Ibu. However, this here is a much smarter (and much cuter) version. Our Gboka sees beauty in everything, and this shows in his love for photography, building the bricks of his happiness one picture of life's best memories after another. This talent has led him to be the CEO of Gbokaphotography and a principal partner of the much celebrated Explore Unec. Our man here is also a comedian who has performed several skits guaranteed to make ladies laugh so hard they forget their hostel hustles. Gboka lives by these words – “If you make you passion a profession, work becomes play for you”, and indeed this shows in his daily affairs. Here's to the guy who's charming personality we celebrate this month.

LIONSPOT MOST-INSPIRING STUDENT OF THE MONTH The meaning of life is to find your gift; the purpose of life is to give it away. One can say that he has found the purpose of his life as he is no stranger to giving away. Founding the Mezie-Collins Foundation in his first year in the university, now as a 300L student of the department of Management, it is no longer news that UNEC means a lot to MezieCollins. A lover of personal education and loyalty, WE give you Chukwumezie Collins Chukwudebelu as our mostinspiring student of the month.

4. “Begin Again”

3. “500 Days of Summer” In this film, starring Zoey Deschanel and Joseph Gordon-Levitt, a woman dumps her boyfriend and it catches him off-guard. He looks back on their time together trying to find out what went wrong. This is one of Travers' favorite romantic films. He said it isn't necessarily about being happy. “It's about feeling something for somebody when it doesn't work out," he said, "and yet it makes you get a little teary about it."

Robert Redford and Barbra Streisand in a scene from "The Way We Were."

5. “The Way We Were” “The Way We Were” has solidified its place among the romantic classics about two people who find romance, but their political views drive them apart. Barbra Streisand and Robert Redford star in the film. “Maybe it's just me who likes the idea of a love story where sometimes the road is bumpy," Travers said, "because I can believe in it, more than I can believe in the Hollywood version of just tears and nothing."

Mark Ruffalo and Keira Knightley in a scene from "Begin Again."

“Begin Again” is musical comedy-drama from director John Carney about a singer-songwriter who collaborates with a struggling record label executive to produce an album. “It stars Kiera Knightley and Mark Ruffalo. She's a singer, he's a music producer and it breaks your heart," Travers said. "You can thank me later because it always gets me."

Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams in a scene from "The Notebook."

6. "The Notebook” A mill worker and a rich girl fall in love in 1940s South Carolina in this romantic drama. But her family prevents them from being together. “If you want to really weep, 'The Notebook' is always the movie that gets people," Travers said. "I usually wouldn't like that, but in this case Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams, who were together at the time they made it, broke my heart in all the best ways."

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His Perfidy

By Obianuju Chisom Bartholomew

A

fter paying off the detective, she had thought of something dramatic. She would put the pictures in a dinner plate and serve it to him. Or she would stab him in his sleep. Or she would pour acid on his face. Or she would buy a gun and shoot what stood between his legs. But she had decided to go with the rat poison. Now, she is staring at his dark and brawny body that lays stiff on the couch. The glass of orange juice which she had served him is sitting on the center table. She downs her glass of red wine and walks to where her wedding pictures are hung on the wall. The photos do not lie. Five months ago, she was a happy woman marrying a man she thought was near perfect. Her dreams of practicing law had shrunk into a world she thought would be perfect — the world of being Mrs Ikenna Obi and thereafter, the mother of his children. But how

could she have known better. Ike was good looking, caring and a top oil company worker. She takes a deep breath and recalls when she found out about it. It was on a cold Monday evening, two days ago precisely, that the private detective brought the pictures to her at a restaurant. At first, she had not wanted to spy on Ike , to unravel the mystery behind the G-string in the inner pocket of his blazer, the story behind the condoms in his brief case. But when she saw the images. She felt justified. She could have easily forgiven the adultery because these days, it was common knowledge that men in Ikoyi cheated on their wives. Just three days ago, she had caught the husband of one of her best friends cheating. But the image of the tall and fair skinned lady in the photos would not let her. Ike knew the whole story. Had known even before

they got married. The person whom she once called her best friend had destroyed her parents marriage of thirty five years — the same person who now assumes the place of her step mother. Ike knew how shamelessly her father paraded Tana as his wife. Ike knew how she blamed herself for letting Tana in. The thought of how her mother languished in despondency had stuck to her mind as she neatly poured the poisonous powder into the glass of orange juice. The thought of losing her father to Tana, the thoughts of imagining Ike on top of Tana—Tana mocking her as she shared what was sacred to her, suppressed the thoughts of consequences. "Baby, today was very hectic at the office, " Ike said when he returned from work an hour earlier. He had sat down to watch the local news and as always, asked for a glass of orange juice. She

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By Small.and.Slightly.Strange

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've lost sleep. I've lost weight. There are dark shadows around my eyes a vampire would envy. I can't eat; I'm too uptight to eat. Food cannot digest with worry. My skin tone grows ashy. There is a sour taste in my mouth when I think of school. Worst of all, I cannot tell my parents what is going on. It's not rape if it's consensual; isn't that what they say? And emotional rape, what of it? I cannot complain of the physical torture and violence and degradation, since I willfully submitted myself to it, yet what about my scrambled mind? My fingers are desperately clicking on every hostel in tandem. The makeshift ashtray next to the laptop is overflowing with smoked out rolled up butts of weed. I need to steady my nerves. I need to still my trembling body. I need to generate this invoice for hostel accommodation. I cannot imagine what would happen if I fail at it, or, as a matter of fact, I can: of course, my mother would hand me the 20,000naira cash which would cover my hostel fees and hall dues. My father would lean by the bedroom doorway of our one room shack, a doorway so narrow it can barely contain his hulking, wizened frame, and fold his hands across his chest. His face would be blank, his eyes stark and devoid of feeling– the look of a man skulking and defeated. He cannot afford more than what my mother has given me I'd been an inmate in the hostel during my first year at school. After that, no matter how hard I tried, the invoice would not generate. It was as if they'd stamped it next to my name that I was not to be allowed to. In second year I holed up with a girlfriend, but not for long. Things got nasty, and Emeka came to my rescue. Hostel rooms sold then for 70,000naira. My mother's 20,000 could not cover this. Lodges off-campus rented then for 100,000naira. My family did not have that. I did not call home to complain. I moved in with Emeka. For the first week, things were ecstatic. I was infested with the new-found elation off-campus life affords. There was freedom, there was privacy, and there was a loud speaker so we could drown ourselves in trap music. Ultimately, however, these three things effected my undoing with a vicious enablement. Freedom meant Emeka could do to me as he pleased. Privacy afforded him the luxury. And the loud music? It very capably drowned out my screams. Every night. Every day. I bled constantly.

brought it accordingly and offered him. In three minutes, he lay still on the sofa while she stood over him, drinking her least favourite wine. She lowers her long eyelashes now and thinks of how this scenario could have ended differently. By now, she would have been thinking of how to hide the body, where to hide it. But carefully, she is watching and waiting for Ike to open his eyes . He does. " Was I asleep for long, " his voice is hoarse and slowly, he sits up. " I'm so tired. " She smiles at him. She had thrown the poisoned juice away, poured another one into a glass and awaited his return. It was better to realize her dreams of practicing law, better to sleep with all his friends and tell it as a casual tale to him during dinner. It was better to let her father emaciate in Tana's deceit. She sits closely by his side and says , "You should go to the bedroom and get some sleep dear. "

FACE OF LIONSPOT MAGAZINE CONTEST

We had to change the sheets every week and after I replaced them he used me up so roughly I bled again. He was so sweet afterwards. He wanted to stay up and cuddle while he nibbled my earlobe. When he smoked at first I watched him tentatively, then decisively. I asked him how it made him feel. He said, “The world is all yours if you stone,” so stone I did. Of course my grades slipped. How do you even summon the stamina to study after being fucked by a toxic, drug crazed, testosterone truck in every possible orifice till you bled? Some holidays I wouldn't go home. He persuaded me. I made some torrid excuse home, and I stayed back, doped up and crazed, living through hours and hours of hate fuck. Bello. Okpara. AjaNwachukwu. Akintola. Akpabio. Isa-kaita. Nkrumah. Mary Slessor… No available room. No available room. No available room. Roll up more weed. Stone. Stone. Stone. I get up. My parents are trudging wearily through the overgrown hedge. I pack up the ash tray and slide it into the dark abyss underneath my bed. I spritz the room with the can of Airwick. I pop mint flavored chewing gum into my mouth, and wipe the tears from my face. Mentally, I prepare myself for another year at Emeka's place, or I can end it, I think, eying the can of Sniper, liquid insecticide. Maybe, just maybe, things are better in an after-life I guess.

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UNN NEXT-RATED STUDENT

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ll the world's a stage! Meet our lady of the arts – Kanu Ozichukwu Jennifer, 400L Theater Arts, from Uli in Ihiala LGA, Anambra State. Our multi-talented girl has featured in so many plays like Dance of the Dead where she played the part of Ngozi and Sikira in the Wizard of Law. She also took part in the very exotic play Ajarinwanyi where she took the lead role of the mazing Ajari. Our heroine has worked with notable directors such as Obi Emelonye in his forth-coming TV series Crazy, Lovely, and Cool as Amara, alongside A-list actors and actresses such

as our very own Mrs. W – Adesua Etomi and Enyinna Nwigwe. This pleasant, charming beauty also has other talents such as her love of travel and intellectual talks, an award winning bathroom singer and fire dancer to boot (it is indeed said that her feet never tire on the dance floor). Her gratitude goes to her sweet mum of blessed memory, for believing in her dreams and standing strong behind her in her pursuit of them. Her motivation comes from this wise saying coined by her – “ My art is my religion”. This here is a lady who will not be silent here. Ride on, Jennifer!

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