“Bros nor dey point me anyhow o. As I dey here ehn, head boil o, I nor get joy o” That scrupling niggle was the scion of the pressure laden on his lukewarm stoicism. Those phrases ambled out his glottis naked: the intonation and stress placements were sagged beneath the consciousness of eloquencemy. None couldContinueContinue reading “Warri Boiz?”