Ashy@ econometrics

private investor, investment commentator and writer

[Ashy@ econometrics @Ashyfad1]

@enevene2003 Simple answer. After destroying Nigeria by their past actions under their different patties, they mistook Nigerians for a fool by ganging up under a new nomenclature claiming they want to rescue nigeria.l and they're getting punish for it.

[Ashy@ econometrics @Ashyfad1]

THIS RUN IS CUSTOMIZED TO END IN THE LAGOON AGAIN !

Moments ago, he swapped his flowing babariga for his usual candidacy marathon outfit — a signal we’ve all come to recognize. His destination? His praise singers and supporters believed was the coveted seat of power.

But as he darted right and left in this latest political sprint, discerning political observers knew this run would surely end in the lagoon.

Of course, we cannot deny him his constitutionally guaranteed right to run. But what we can — and must — do is rally men and women of good conscience to guide our highly respected community leader away from this predictable path to political oblivion. Perhaps, with grace and dignity, we can steer him gently across the border to neighbouring Cameroon, where a truly befitting retirement awaits.

[Ashy@ econometrics @Ashyfad1]

Mother of All Protests: Guinness Jollof Cookathon Sparks National Uproar

A massive protest is brewing in Nigeria. Think it’s another Nepal-style uprising? Wrong. Even the Amala man—once a loud voice in the Armageddon chorus—has withdrawn, fearing his shop will be the first target of hungry rage.

Leading the charge is @OlayinkaLere , a human-rights/ journalist famed for muzzling the loud-mouthed bully-dog, that animal-science graduate who mistakenly wandered into journalism.

The cause? Lagos’ Guinness record-breaking jollof rice cookathon. Protesters demand a rerun, shouting “Failure to meet expectations.” Not because only 20 bags of rice were cooked instead of 25, nor because a hijab-wearing politician—still dodging questions about missing campaign funds—was sidelined from managing the purse. Insiders whisper the real outrage: the snub of His Highness, the Ebinpawa of Rivers, whose legendary appetite, they insist, could have been cured.

Critics wonder: how does a man with a belly like a nine-month pregnancy still cry of hunger?

Another spark: the exclusion of a chief notorious not for fake hunger but for disgraceful table manners—his presence, observers fear, might have caused national embarrassment.

Unless tempers cool, the Ekiti-born activist and his “Hungry Must Be Fed Movement” may unleash the mother of all protests Until the Ebinpami of Rivers is invited to the cookathon.

[Ashy@ econometrics @Ashyfad1]

Mother of All Protests: Guinness Jollof Cookathon Sparks National Uproar

A massive protest is brewing in Nigeria. Think it’s another Nepal-style uprising? Wrong. Even the Amala man—once a loud voice in the Armageddon chorus—has withdrawn, fearing his shop will be the first target of hungry rage.

Leading the charge is @OlayinkaLere , a human-rights/ journalist famed for muzzling the loud-mouthed bully-dog, that animal-science graduate who mistakenly wandered into journalism.

The cause? Lagos’ Guinness record-breaking jollof rice cookathon. Protesters demand a rerun, shouting “Failure to meet expectations.” Not because only 20 bags of rice were cooked instead of 25, nor because a hijab-wearing politician—still dodging questions about missing campaign funds—was sidelined from managing the purse. Insiders whisper the real outrage: the snub of His Highness, the Ebinpawa of Rivers, whose legendary appetite, they insist, could have been cured.

Critics wonder: how does a man with a belly like a nine-month pregnancy still cry of hunger?

Another spark: the exclusion of a chief notorious not for fake hunger but for disgraceful table manners—his presence, observers fear, might have caused national embarrassment.

Unless tempers cool, the Ekiti-born activist and his “Hungry Must Be Fed Movement” may unleash the mother of all protests Until the Ebinpami of Rivers is invited to the cookathon.

[Ashy@ econometrics @Ashyfad1]

Mother of All Protests: Guinness Jollof Cookathon Sparks National Uproar

A massive protest is brewing in Nigeria. Think it’s another Nepal-style uprising? Wrong. Even the Amala man—once a loud voice in the Armageddon chorus—has withdrawn, fearing his shop will be the first target of hungry rage.

Leading the charge is @OlayinkaLere , a human-rights/ journalist famed for muzzling the loud-mouthed bully-dog, that animal-science graduate who mistakenly wandered into journalism.

The cause? Lagos’ Guinness record-breaking jollof rice cookathon. Protesters demand a rerun, shouting “Failure to meet expectations.” Not because only 20 bags of rice were cooked instead of 25, nor because a hijab-wearing politician—still dodging questions about missing campaign funds—was sidelined from managing the purse. Insiders whisper the real outrage: the snub of His Highness, the Ebinpawa of Rivers, whose legendary appetite, they insist, could have been cured.

Critics wonder: how does a man with a belly like a nine-month pregnancy still cry of hunger?

Another spark: the exclusion of a chief notorious not for fake hunger but for disgraceful table manners—his presence, observers fear, might have caused national embarrassment.

Unless tempers cool, the Ekiti-born activist and his “Hungry Must Be Fed Movement” may unleash the mother of all protests Until the Ebinpami of Rivers is invited to the cookathon.

[Ashy@ econometrics @Ashyfad1]

The jester—a man with an inordinate love for anything with four wheels—harassed the warrior's wife in the hallowed chamber where laws are forged, while the guardians pretended not to notice his desecration, in what some called an act of hegemonic complicity.

Not satisfied, he went on to desecrate the warrior’s territory in a bid to provoke him into battle. Yet the warrior said nothing, for the sacred iroko tree doesn’t avenge disrespect from a wayward child by falling to kill him on the same day. Then the warrior sneezed, and the jester, along with his conspirators, was swept away in what history remembers as the greatest political tsunami of our time.

But fools forget quickly. The jester returned, dancing from village to village, begging for votes to be made the chief of his faraway state. Once again, the warrior roared, and like a frightened chicken, the jester tucked his tail between his legs, went underground, and could not even bring himself to vote for his own candidacy—an episode now recalled as one of the clearest cases of “labour in vain” in this century.

But like a man whose political journey to oblivion was mathematically certain, the jester resurfaced. This time, he sang and stumbled on the podium, attempting to body-shame the warrior as the latter marched toward the great seat of power in the land. Undeterred, the warrior crushed them once more with a decisive defeat.

Today, the jester is seen among the Galilee of the internally displaced politicians. Because people joke too much about nation-building in the land, a man once given to reckless extravagance now dares to pontificate about prudence on a national television. Is this not the height of irony in a land that jokes with its future?

[Ashy@ econometrics @Ashyfad1]

The jester—a man with an inordinate love for anything with four wheels—harassed the warrior's wife in the hallowed chamber where laws are forged, while the guardians pretended not to notice his desecration, in what some called an act of hegemonic complicity.

Not satisfied, he went on to desecrate the warrior’s territory in a bid to provoke him into battle. Yet the warrior said nothing, for the sacred iroko tree doesn’t avenge disrespect from a wayward child by falling to kill him on the same day. Then the warrior sneezed, and the jester, along with his conspirators, was swept away in what history remembers as the greatest political tsunami of our time.

But fools forget quickly. The jester returned, dancing from village to village, begging for votes to be made the chief of his faraway state. Once again, the warrior roared, and like a frightened chicken, the jester tucked his tail between his legs, went underground, and could not even bring himself to vote for his own candidacy—an episode now recalled as one of the clearest cases of “labour in vain” in this century.

But like a man whose political journey to oblivion was mathematically certain, the jester resurfaced. This time, he sang and stumbled on the podium, attempting to body-shame the warrior as the latter marched toward the great seat of power in the land. Undeterred, the warrior crushed them once more with a decisive defeat.

Today, the jester is seen among the Galilee of the internally displaced politicians. Because people joke too much about nation-building in the land, a man once given to reckless extravagance now dares to pontificate about prudence on a national television. Is this not the height of irony in a land that jokes with its future?

[Ashy@ econometrics @Ashyfad1]

The jester—a man with an inordinate love for anything with four wheels—harassed the warrior's wife in the hallowed chamber where laws are forged, while the guardians pretended not to notice his desecration, in what some called an act of hegemonic complicity.

Not satisfied, he went on to desecrate the warrior’s territory in a bid to provoke him into battle. Yet the warrior said nothing, for the sacred iroko tree doesn’t avenge disrespect from a wayward child by falling to kill him on the same day. Then the warrior sneezed, and the jester, along with his conspirators, was swept away in what history remembers as the greatest political tsunami of our time.

But fools forget quickly. The jester returned, dancing from village to village, begging for votes to be made the chief of his faraway state. Once again, the warrior roared, and like a frightened chicken, the jester tucked his tail between his legs, went underground, and could not even bring himself to vote for his own candidacy—an episode now recalled as one of the clearest cases of “labour in vain” in this century.

But like a man whose political journey to oblivion was mathematically certain, the jester resurfaced. This time, he sang and stumbled on the podium, attempting to body-shame the warrior as the latter marched toward the great seat of power in the land. Undeterred, the warrior crushed them once more with a decisive defeat.

Today, the jester is seen among the Galilee of the internally displaced politicians. Because people joke too much about nation-building in the land, a man once given to reckless extravagance now dares to pontificate about prudence on a national television. Is this not the height of irony in a land that jokes with its future?

[Ashy@ econometrics @Ashyfad1]

The jester—a man with an inordinate love for anything with four wheels—harassed the warrior's wife in the hallowed chamber where laws are forged, while the guardians pretended not to notice his desecration, in what some called an act of hegemonic complicity.

Not satisfied, he went on to desecrate the warrior’s territory in a bid to provoke him into battle. Yet the warrior said nothing, for the sacred iroko tree doesn’t avenge disrespect from a wayward child by falling to kill him on the same day. Then the warrior sneezed, and the jester, along with his conspirators, was swept away in what history remembers as the greatest political tsunami of our time.

But fools forget quickly. The jester returned, dancing from village to village, begging for votes to be made the chief of his faraway state. Once again, the warrior roared, and like a frightened chicken, the jester tucked his tail between his legs, went underground, and could not even bring himself to vote for his own candidacy—an episode now recalled as one of the clearest cases of “labour in vain” in this century.

But like a man whose political journey to oblivion was mathematically certain, the jester resurfaced. This time, he sang and stumbled on the podium, attempting to body-shame the warrior as the latter marched toward the great seat of power in the land. Undeterred, the warrior crushed them once more with a decisive defeat.

Today, the jester is seen among the Galilee of the internally displaced politicians. Because people joke too much about nation-building in the land, a man once given to reckless extravagance now dares to pontificate about prudence on a national television. Is this not the height of irony in a land that jokes with its future?

[Ashy@ econometrics @Ashyfad1]

@DeeOneAyekooto After suffering a crushing by-election defeat and explosion from SDP and ADC, the ex-Kaduna landlord has fled east. He was last seen mingling some Christian folks. We only hope won't sneak into a Cameroon IDP camp only to return in 2031.

[Ashy@ econometrics @Ashyfad1]

After suffering a crushing by-election defeat and explosion from SDP and ADC, the ex-Kaduna landlord has fled east. He was last seen mingling some Christian folks. We only hope won't sneak into a Cameroon IDP camp only to return in 2031.

[Ashy@ econometrics @Ashyfad1]

Read and learn. But the mobs and their chief priest won’t—desperation has blinded them to reason. All they crave is chaos to stall Nigeria’s progress. #Nigeria #Taxlaws

[Ashy@ econometrics @Ashyfad1]

@Marketwavespros Can we take some profits now?

[Ashy@ econometrics @Ashyfad1]

THE SERIAL CANDIDATE IS ON THE RUN AGAIN

Moments ago, he swapped his flowing babariga for his usual candidacy marathon outfit — a signal we’ve all come to recognize. His destination? His praise singers and supporters believed was the coveted seat of power.

But as he darted right and left in this latest political sprint, discerning political observers knew this run would surely end in the lagoon.

Of course, we cannot deny him his constitutionally guaranteed right to run. But what we can — and must — do is rally men and women of good conscience to guide our highly respected community leader away from this predictable path to political oblivion. Perhaps, with grace and dignity, we can steer him gently across the border to neighbouring Cameroon, where a truly befitting retirement awaits.

[Ashy@ econometrics @Ashyfad1]

@Marketwavespros What are the targets please?

[Ashy@ econometrics @Ashyfad1]

The ex-Kaduna landlord has turned mathematical again! Mathematical Odegbami, you think? You're damned wrong! Just last night on a political stage disguised as a talk show, the new mathematics sensation in town was unveiled by the show anchor. The self-acclaimed professor of mathematics was busy chalking invisible political formulas in the air. " By my political calculation, he will come third in 2027's polls". Yes third! Not first, not second-but third. That's mathematical genius, isn't it? You may call him a jester, but at least the program's anchor swallowed it whole, nodding and grinning like an overfed Agama lizard doing push-ups on a sun-baked hot rock. Don't be too swift to call him a professor of political failure if you're on the opposite side. Habba! That would be too merciless. But the fact speaks for itself. The new sensation of political mathematics looked fatigued and defeated, but you can't really blame his appearance. Recently, his mathematical calculations betrayed him. He was humiliated, out-punched, outrun, outclassed and decisively rejected in the by-election, but his tragedy doesn't end there. The SDP and ADC-once his political shelters-have expelled him, leaving him stranded like a tenant with no forwarding address. He now roams the streets of power without a roof. Anyways, his descent into political oblivion is no longer a forecast. It is now a mathematical certainty!

[Ashy@ econometrics @Ashyfad1]

What caption will you give this video?

[Ashy@ econometrics @Ashyfad1]

The ex- Kaduna landlord has turned mathematical again! Mathematical Odegbami, you think? You're damned wrong! Just last night on a political stage disguised as a talk show, the new mathematics sensation in town was unveiled by the show anchor. The self-acclaimed professor of mathematics was busy chalking invisible political formulas in the air. " By my political calculation, he will come third in 2027's polls". Yes third! Not first, not second-but third. That's mathematical genius, isn't it? You may call him a jester, but at least the program's anchor swallowed it whole, nodding and grinning like an overfed Agama lizard doing push-ups on a sun-baked hot rock. Don't be too swift to call him a professor of political failure if you're on the opposite side. Habba! That would be too merciless. But the fact speaks for itself. The new sensation of political mathematics looked fatigued and defeated, but you can't really blame his appearance. Recently, his mathematical calculations betrayed him. He was humiliated, out-punched, outrun, outclassed and decisively rejected in the by-election, but his tragedy doesn't end there. The SDP and ADC-once his political shelters-have expelled him, leaving him stranded like a tenant with no forwarding address. He now roams the streets of power without a roof. Anyways, his descent into political oblivion is no longer a forecast. It is now a mathematical certainty!