Abolaji Oshun


My name is Abolaji Oshun. I am a 20 year old British-Nigerian from East London. I am a second year English Literature student at King’s College London. Don’t make the mistake of assuming I read a lot because of what I study as truth be told, I don’t do any of my reading. Like my peers, I’m just trying to make it out the hood. Since I don’t have the heart to sell drugs or do fraud, I have to resort to bo ring things like writing *eye roll*. InshAllah I can start making racks off of Prim so I can flex stacks of money on the Gram with meaningless captions. Blame Capitalism, not me!

Coronavirus is ruining my life fam

Lockdown has the golden boy writing again after a two-year hiatus. We’ll call it a hiatus because that sounds grown and mysterious. Honestly, I just never had anything to write about but now that quarantine rules are fisting us all up, I've decided to make a return. Furthermore, stop saying you’ve missed my writing because I am doing it for all the wrong reasons. Plus you man aren’t paying me yet. Also, stop requesting consistency from me. The only things I know in this life are natural talent and a lack of effort. How else am I going to avoid the disappointing feeling of failing at something I tried hard at?

That brother said that ‘tough times never last’ but man they’ve been lasting. Every time I think about how germs have brought the modern world to a standstill; I can’t help but think that everyone (including myself and all of you) is a fucking neek.

Truthfully, I never really took Coronavirus seriously until Boris started scaring the hoes. My favourite hobby has been brought to a staggering halt because niggas are dying over a lil’ Rona. Only 137,666 confirmed deaths and counting from this meady virus and all of a sudden babes are telling me “lol we’re on lockdown...” This pandemic is ruining my life. And I’m certainly always responding with “Loool I’m joking man ffs.” Ma’am, I need that! Oh yeah, and my favourite hobby is b*reback.

I promise I’m joking.

All bad things come with lessons though, I guess. Here is what I’ve learned from the lockdown:

I miss my dawgs. I’m homiesexual.

I still need a sugar mummy. Me too, I wanna sell front in these trying times. Depending on the race of said sponsor, we can call this one “reparations”.

I hate sexting. Stop sending me e-pussy man I hate it here! If you were a REAL badders you would pull up on me in the flesh. Stop sending me crotch with flower emoji covering it like a eediat. The real slags are here working daily to keep the economy afloat in such trying times. “If you ain’t nasty, don’t at me” word to my father Brent. (But if you are sending man nudes, at least let me save it to the camera roll, ma!)

Aunties need to be banned from Wozzup. This is one we have known for eternity, but it is even more evident now.

I need my fix of RECESS or am die. I’m on my knees, dawg. Each day I smile reminiscing back to all the black queens telling me “aw, you’re too young.” Sigh. “Don’t focus on my age, focus on how long I been in d game!” Besides, I might be immature, but I promise you that we will have fun, ma.

As much as I’m Kylian Mbappe in these streets, I’ve actually reached the conclusion that I no longer love the game and contrary to popular belief, hanky panky isn’t enough to fill the void in my soul. I don’t know when I came to this realisation, but I’m disgusted quite frankly. These days, a nigga like me be judging babes by the content of their character, or whatever MLK said. I miss the days when big bum had me warming up on the pitch, testing my first touch. Abeg someone break my heart so I can return to the skreets one last time with a vengeance on some “one last dance” type beat. I want my testimonial match.

I’ve seen people fantasising about post-lockdown activities and I believe people are doing too much. I’m a simple man. All I'm going to do after we’re allowed out is attend the gym regularly and consume hard dr*gs. A wise man once said “I’m with whatever. I’m with everything... I’m a slut.” Keep that weed away from me, baby. I’m only doing drugs with rich wh*te women. Probably with the sugar mum, actually. Knocking two birds with one stone is what I think they call it. The lockdown has unlocked: economical thinking.

Stay safe, everybody. And remember: these tough times are fucking lasting and you aren’t getting your refunds on any of your festival tickets <3.

PS: this aticle is staying up until one of my understandably mortified family members tells me to delete it so the streets have to keep the memory alive. You niggas better not repost this shit *winks with my whole pretty face*

Published on Abolaji’s Convo on 16/04/2020*

Little Black Boys and Big Metal Knives

"The Ends is are way too hot right now" was a statement I had heard frequently during the period of widespread knife violence throughout the capital. I had also heard people say that "these little black boys need to change." Both expressions are arguably true, but I can't help but feel uneasy at the declaration - and implied implication, that knife violence had only become prolific in a month's period and so had just then become a huge problem. It's as if people think that teenage black boys suddenly realised that they weren't killing enough people and had to get their quotas up. Fortunately, we don't function in that way. I am sure you could speak to the police about filling up quotas though. Apparently, "there's been reports about..." or my personal favourite: "iT's sTaNdaRd pRoCEduRe, mAtE".

Poverty is perhaps one of the most important reasons for violence and for systemic reasons, a lot of black people are poor. But hey, we won't dissect the socioeconomic legacy of slavery and racism prevalent in today's society in too much detail. Let's take the example of a black boy who lives in a dire council flat, who has been constantly discouraged and provoked at school all his life, who feels disillusioned with the world and his own future, it seems he has a lot less to aim for and a lot less to lose. Realistically, from the perspective of a lot of black boys: if we don't make it at football, rapping, or through the route of academia, the future seems quite bleak. The plot twist is that a lot of black boys should make it in football and academically, but behind closed doors are discouraged through provocative, bitter and ineffective coaches and teachers. "You'll never make it with that attitude" but said teacher or coach does all they can to bring out the attitude they seem to hate. It seems that nobody cares about the black boy who isn't 'naturally gifted', and even the gifted black boy gets the life sucked out of him from early. At this point, why would he waste his time in a seemingly pointless legitimate route of making a small amount of money when one can attain instant gratification through trapping and/or fraud?

"What solutions do you have?" I hear you ask behind your laptop. Fear not however, I've got a bunch of unattainable and ambitious ideas that will never come into fruition in the locker. For now though, take some more reasons black boys are little shit bags!

Another damaging reason that a lot of these black boys resort to illegitimate activities is that they have very little reference points and idols to look up to (that looks like us). A good first idol would be your father, but unfortunately, a disappointing number of black children are brought up in households with a absent father. All jokes and memes aside, the impact of not having a father in the household is immeasurable. (These jokes still have to fly though, gotta humble your boy if he's winning a verbal altercation.) Children who grow up without a father are five times more likely to live in poverty and commit crime; nine times more likely to drop out of schools and 20 times more likely to end up in prison. The impact can not be discounted, the pain it has brought to thousands of families can not be discounted. Nonetheless, the idea of that the 'absent father' and angry son/daughter is a rhetoric that has lazily been overused. Black children are stung by the feeling of abandonment and 'missing' what they wish they had. If children of households raised by single-mothers came from an environment where they were nurtured with love, the next meal wasn’t uncertain, they had teachers and counsellors who were understanding and provided solutions, maybe they wouldn’t hold onto this pain into their teens and adulthood.

Social media is one of the most direct causes of so many deaths and beef within young black men. Provocation and the search for clout is a huge reason that so much fuckery occurs– in simple terms. Young boys are now drawn to the thrill of making a name for themselves through Snapchat, music etc and are partaking in beef I personally feel they would be less involved in had it not been for social media. Not to mention that people getting drawn out on socials only leads to the need for a point to be proved in retaliation.

My only wish in this life of sin is that AM doesn't get stabbed above the waist, the cultural significance of AM x Skengdo's Mad About Bars is something that I will be delivering a think piece on in the years to come. Furthermore, if Loski or Headie ever get touched, I'll be one of them shook youngers riding out with their hands on the burner shaking. Not my idols. Not on my watch! Another sentiment that I've heard expressed is that social media leads to more evidence in court. Arguably it leads to more to be convicted, but if the truth is to be told, has the judicial system ever given a fuck about black boys? I won't start on the damaging effects of the Joint Enterprise law on innocent black boys but mandem have been slapped birds for accusations, let alone evidence. Social media or not, the Judge and witnesses are hardly ever helpful and niggers are going to jail regardless.

In the eyes of the law, in the eyes of media, black boys are aggressive criminals. And unfortunately, institutionalised oppression and the perpetuation of harmful stereotypes starts to have an effect on your own psyche. Internalised racism and self hate are real things, seeing a brudda that looks at you as a problem is a real thing. In the words of King Skepta on Castles:

"Too much TV, too many newspapers got a nigga thinking evil/
Got me thinking I'm looking at my enemy when I'm looking at my own people/
Notice when a white man looks at my watch I think he's trying to pay me a compliment/
When a black man looks at my watch I think he's trying to knock my confidence (mad)"

In response to the recent 'resurgence' in knife crime across the capital, many called for an increase in funding and more employment of policemen and called for an increase in Stop and Searches. This is very stupid and awon Oyinbo ti ya were. This does so little to actually solve the bigger problems at hand. As my Yoruba mum has told me countless times: 'Prevention is better than cure'. Providing young boys liable to fall to the life of the roads with opportunities might be a good place to start. An investment in youth clubs would be a massive help. More youth clubs and community figures are needed. But did you think the government are going to do anything other than provide cuts to youth services? Another is to provide another viable solution other than the roads. A push for different forms of education to be available and known to be available would help. Mandem could thrive in the arts realm also.

There needs to be more figures that black boys would like to listen to. There are honestly too many washed up olders and washed up uncles etc. trying to give advice. There's a huge problem with a lack of representation and positive role models. Nowadays, black excellence is rife and loud, but it could be more rife and louder. We need more black boys from ends to become idols in the fields of academia, entertainment etc. And not from selling bricks. A lot of guys from the roads are looking up to Nines, money-making Mitch from Paid In Full, Meek Mill etc. Fredo will have you wanting to consign stupid amounts of cocaine until you realise that a majority of those trapping don't even make Fredo and Nines money.

The black community is filled with ills that we need to work to fix, it's also plagued with more ills that we didn't ask for. Ills caused by awon colonisers. Ills that will not be remedied in our lifetime. Fortunately, survivors guilt has already caught me and I've been through my angry-at-the-world phase because I can't come and kill myself for things I can't change. If you don't become somewhat numb to the idea of black boys being murdered with little meaningful consequence in repetitive cycles then life gets long. but hey, in the meantime, we can pray all our evils away! Now excuse me while I go listen to some drill music like the hypocrite I am in peace. There is no real silver lining in this piece, the world is a truly wicked place. If you would like to see it improve, improve yourself first, and then the world around you, homie. Take it easy, always.


At this point you lot know the drill, and I hope my glossaries have been of use to my white brothers and sisters who wish to impress their contemporaries with urban lingo!

Ends are hot – areas with London where many black people living in poverty have become rife with violence and gang beef tensions are spilling.

Clout – I've already explained this one in a prior article, do ya homework.

Mandem – you should know this one by now.

Bird – a prison sentence or a stretch of time served in prison.

Awon Oyinbo ti ya were - The whites are mad.

Washed up olders – men who are literally just older than you in age. Many typically spend their time trying to provide younger kids and teens with life advice. They have achieved close to little with their lives and even on the roads scared absolutely nobody. Their favourite line is "you youngers are..." In which they proceed to make wildly basic and inaccurate generalisations based on insignificant observations in their 30 years of life.

Awon - the/those/the people that are.

Burner – a gun.

Published to Abolaji’s Convo on 01/06/2018