ACETYLATED WRITINGS

No one speaks my mind. I'm just going to pour it out in words, a means to relieve me of worries over the past few days. A thursday evening like every other at the college, I received calls of the death of my uncle turned father. A man with integrity, honesty, hardworking and gentle, someone I always wanted to emulate. What a sore it caused to my heart, I've never felt this bad before in my entire life as it still sounded as a dream within the first few minutes. I rushed home to meet our house full of masses, those who came to mourn his death - truly and falsely. Some even cried out their eyeballs pitying the family he left behind - a wife and four children all still in school. I was at a corner trying to sober but my lacrimals refuse me of tears. I have become wicked according to friends ever since I started dissecting cadaver at the anatomy lab. I have seen many patients died at the hospital emergencies with their relatives crying and mourning. Something I blame medic...

With  mike-tysoned  stance and several  may-weathered  heavy blows thrusted into the empty air, he stood in the middle of the busy road with passersby amused and amazed as commuters slowed down to watch a few  minutes  of the  epistle , something they never paid for. The destiny of a  young brilliant chap  was deterred by his  greedy barren  step mother who wanted to inherit his father's properties after the  wealthy  man's demise; what his deceased mother could have waved with prayers and fervent fasting. He grew up in the households with no one to look after. His  ragged  clothes tattered, his unkempt hair full to the brim like a university professor. His mouth odour stinking laced with set of  scattered dentition  of varying colors; some brown some black. He was probably struggling with what we didn't see..  a McGregor  in disguise. He might have won many of the un staged fights as he ended...

They beef while I smile When I laugh, they bleed At the end of it Nothing spoil My presence, an headache  My movement, a migraine  When I joke,  they cry  Nothing spoil In a corner, they meet To gist and backbite About why I progress  But nothing spoil  When you hate, I know Even if it doesn't show Pls don't stop hating  Cos I get motivated  I may not be handsome But I'm cool I may not be gentle  But I'm caring I may not be stuffy  But very well loaded I mean very well Cos nothing spoil I'm not bothered but bored That's why I put down some words In case it may serve as record                            After all nothing spoil

Episode One - By Acetyl APONBEPORE is a yoruba pynegyry which literally means a lady whose complexion looks like the colour of palm oil; mostly used for a beauty. Left to me and some other active guys, our sense of visions are used in stylishly assessing the beauty of anything that passes satisfying our limbic system of emotions. It was on a very busy Monday morning when the school just began a new academic session. As freshers, we were seated calmly at the 200- seater geology lecture theatre (GLT) awaiting the arrival of Mrs Okorie - an old, persuasive, English lecturer in her late 50s who always used half of the time to call attendance and the other half to make us read from the GNS textbook. After few minutes before the arrival of the lecturer, a young lady in her 20s walked in through the main door which was just at my 10 o' clock. What a beauty to be amazed, it left me looking skeptical wondering if such being had ever been created. She represented a perfect icon ...

Alayinde, “If there is no price to be paid, it is also not of value.”—Albert Einstein --- Aphorism, June 27,1920. AEA 36–582. When everything seems blurry, my inner muscles couldn't just let me rest, people would then think I just gulped three bottles of liqour. I'm one of those few that always want to feel dazed. What am I even thinking? Suicide ? No!  I said to myself in a loud voice as I lean my chest against the brick-made wall, sitting on my student-type unifoam made bed around the corner of the dark room...a well suiting environment to think aloud second to a restroom. Dear selfless self,  Ayinde omo oloke ide...when life gives you mould,  why not make penicillin. The former being a result of spoilt food while the latter is an antibiotic. I said to myself after the brief self eulogy. Would eventually make it,  just put more and more efforts. Never mind people of less importance...those who never add value but worsen your lifestyles. Some will even pr...

EPISODE five - By Acetyl Physiology practical came...the most deterring exams where we had to answer an SAQ question under 40seconds...who does that? It was more or less like racing for the Olympics in the so called stupid-chase ( stipple chase). At the bch practical exams, I couldn't find the indicator used in the titration and was made to fabricate one from my thinking centre. After all these, I nearly gave up on the exams after reviewing the flaws committed - some questions were left un- answered, many were wrongly answerd. That on the day of the viva exams....I was ready for dazing from the external examiner who  asked me to move stuff on gross of skull and embryology of the stomach...I was flatly dazed in physiology but not in IP...some mates started crying cos their emotion centres couldn't bear the "you don't know anything" slogan from the examiners. We finished the exams...we finished the race but we haven't yet received medal as our fate s...

EPISODE four - By Acetyl We all went away with the feelings that real exam starts tomorrow - the next day. After the normal trend of read, sleep, read, eat, and read, we settled for anatomy exam the next day where Akinola did it again. To some, it has always been a surprise while to many it's nothing as we were dazed with some questions we never treated in any anatomy class. He had always been telling us to know all even with its inarguably scrupulous USMLE standard questions. We did this for about 3 hours after which we dispersed to get ready for the multiple choice questions aspects which held about few hours after the theory. The christians among us went to their prayer ground as the normal routine after every exams while some of the muslims went to the mosque. After getting to the hostel, I observed 2 rakats prayer, called on my God to get favour from Akinola's red pen. The exams kept going on and on with the normal trend - physiology then biochemis...