Confession: 50 Different Ladies’ Pants But All Have Been Used For Money Rituals [My Bluez]

“…this one—no…this one—no…even this one has been used…Kola, don’t let me lie to you, destinies of ladies who own all these pants in front of me have all been stolen and used for money—every single one of them!”

Baba’s words keep reiterating in my head as I consider how unlucky I have been on my plight to make “ritual money”… but most importantly the shock of my life that I received as he told me that every one of those pants’ owners have been “used” already. Wait! The last batch of pants I took to this man was fifty oh, meaning fifty girls’ destinies have been confirmed “stolen”… and that is just the little I know!

I know you will be wondering if I am mentally stable to be sharing my “ritual money” race on this blog… well, do you know who the fuck I am and all the fucking bullshits I have been through? Do you know how much oppressions and intimidations I have survived? Do you know what it means to be hungry but have no money in your pocket? I am not blaming anyone for my woes, and won’t have you stay there judging my life, like you have acted kindly recently to feed someone hungry! Pffftttt!

Well, money must be made, and when I wasn’t successful with the common electronic fraud that is the order of the day. The alternative presented is surely “ritual money”, which I considered to “a way” as well—as long as I get to my money destination. Very well, this isn’t “blood money”, so I am not putting myself at the risk of a ghost chasing my ass up and down, like so many of my mates, who had to kill fellow humans to make money, had done.

"Money Must Be made..."

I was taken to a “Baba” and he gave me some options of making deal with the dark world for cool cash… and the easiest to me was “bring a girl’s pant.” I hurriedly went back the next day—like I just hit the jackpot—with the pant of one stupid hungry “bitch” I called my girlfriend… don’t be quick to judge me though; I called her a “bitch” because I found out that she was sleeping with some yahoo boys for dishes of Tantalizers fried rice! I wasn’t so surprised when Baba told me that her destiny has been “fapped”; it was what she loved that “killed” her!

I returned to my hostel and swiftly raked like ten to fifteen different pants off the lines—I had to make room for substitutes since it was likely that they entered the game as dead players—and took them to the money making baba… only to be told that all the girls were dead players! “Like seriously?” I thought to myself, “Is this man catching fun at my expense? I didn’t bring fifteen pants belonging to one girl naw… fifteen girls and they’ve all been used?! No, I meant

“Winners never quit, quitters never win!” I was back on campus and I started scouting and combing for pants left on lines to dry. I took my time to make sure I didn’t pick from the same hostel, so as not to risk picking pants belonging to the same girl. I picked well over fifty this time and hoped that—at least—one of them would click… but here I am, just getting back from the Baba, who told me that pants of over fifty random girls in my school are not usable for my “ritual money”, as the girls’ destinies have all been stolen by guys “like me”.

"Dear Money Chaser...what about the future of our daughters?"

So, here I am now… wondering what future holds for these many girls whose destinies had been snatched away, and how they walk around with all the make-ups and big bums without the knowledge that they are so synonymous to “empty barrels”. And if you analyse this situation properly, you will see that the rate at which we—guys—pursue money is way overboard that it now mars our future wives as every girl out there is not safe… even my sisters!

Kola

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