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Mr lecturer episode 33

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Episode 33 ‘’come on man you can’t leave me hanging without at least telling me the reason you said Jessica is much safer in Abuja than in my home?’’ I tried one more time to persuade Henry to open up to me, as I got up to leave after spending hours with him in the hospital. He smiled and shook his head. ‘’there isn’t any need telling you what I’m not yet sure of. You know I still feel guilty for making you go through the dilemma of a second DNA test’’ he murmured carefully. ‘’but do you think it was Comfort who actually shot you?’’ I asked. He breathed deeply and smiled again. ‘’she’s your woman. I think you are in a better position to know what she can do’’ he answered while I shrugged and shook my head. ‘’well I know she can’t afford a gun or even afford hiring anyone to shoot you. Comfort doesn’t have a penny’’ I said softly, very unsure of my words. ‘’so you see, relax. I believe with time, many things will come around’’ he said seriously, leaving me with no choice th...
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Mr lecturer

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**********MR LECTURER********** Episode1 Hi guys, my name is Caleb Ezubuike. A young Nigerian and a university lecturer. I have a story to tell and i really would want you guys to learn something from it. Life is all about lessons and i wish to use my life story to send some messages across. This is my story >> Most African university graduates do dream of becoming a lecturer. We all know about the bright future of lecturers, the respect they controlled and the wealth that followed them. Yea being a lecturer gives one the opportunity to get to the very top if he’s serious about it. As a lecturer you have a clear path towards becoming a professor and it’s now left for you to work towards making it happen. I was opportune to travel to Canada for my masters degree, immediately after my Nysc in 2006. I returned to Nigeria two years later and quickly married a family friend’s daughter whose father was equally the Dean of Education facu...
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Lounging in my office

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Lounging in my office All alone am here; Lounging half awake. Idly listening to the wind Blow through my window. One tired feet on my laden desk; A picture perfect symbol of tired. Me and the wind had a talk; He was howling all his woes At globetrotting a thousand times. I was silently bewailing my fatigued self. We both have been overworked for the day. Mine has come to a pause, His is still in play. I envied him his freedom at first But then I wondered aloud, What he saw in my state to feel bitter about. He told me in his whooshing speech, How he has no pause from work; Can’t even grow tired without dying. Work is his life and recurring hell, And there’s no end to his walks. Although we had a grumbling talk; A ghostly, refreshing opening of the mind, And we envied each other our states. We both knew, deep down we can’t  Switch places or swap fates. I know I’d rather work hard half the day  And have the time to rest like now, Than trot the globe like the wind Lounging apace i...
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