U try.....
But this one neva do at all o, u nid make up 4d period of silence nd waiting (he say he go vacation). Bring more jare!

Anugod: U try.....
But this one neva do at all o, u nid make up 4d period of silence nd waiting (he say he go vacation). Bring more jare!

Lol....that will be tomorrow dear.

Boss.kudos 2 u 4 this interesting write-up.more power 2 ur elbow. Pls can u hasten up d story.

kojusoluwa: Boss.kudos 2 u 4 this interesting write-up.more power 2 ur elbow. Pls can u hasten up d story.

Thanks Koju, I will try my best to keep it as interesting as possible.
As for the speed of the story...you do not rush a hot soup, or you get your tongue burnt.

Something is amiss here, and it has burrowed into Nkpume Iko's excitement.

When I started this write up, this was what I said: "Considering that am new on Nairaland and that this is my first topic, i would love the comments, they would go a long way. THANKS!" You can go view the very first update to confirm.

Now, let me make it explicit. "Comments" in the above was not in any way streamlined to 'nice' 'cool' 'interesting' and all sorts of encouraging adjectives.

Interestingly, when i requested for comments in the aforementioned, I was referring largely to criticisms, not trying to downplay the importance of encouragements though.

My point is, I want you guys to criticize my work. Same thing I do when i read the works of others and find gray areas. It helps us all get better.
For goodness sakes, there are a lot of seasoned writers reading this, I wouldn't like to mention names, both those that have dropped a message before and those on 'ghost mode'.

Nkpume Iko wants to get better. Do help him out by chipping in constructive criticisms here and there.

Thanks!!!

The write ups aint coming on time and though is a very nice story but you know that Nigerians don't have patience. if your updates comes at least once a day then the comments and criticism will never seize to flow. Check the threads that the owners updates daily and you will see what am telling you about.

* * * * * * * *
Elliot came out of his room finely dressed. He was sporting his new departmental light blue T-shirt with patches of gold, which sat on a black Vickers pant trousers. He rocked a deep brown Gucci footwear. His right hand was handcuffed with an assortment of bracelets. He had no flair for watches.

Elliot was a fine young man with perfectly chiseled features. His sharp hairline culminated in a well carved side burns. He had what the ladies referred to as ‘sexy eyes’. Some called him Elvis Presley. To others, he was simply David Beckham. He didn’t care which gained prominence, so long as the pants kept getting down for him to ride on.

Elliot was a con man.

He had missed his first two classes because he had woke up late as usual. He was always guilty of watching movies late into the night. As he stepped out of his hostel gate, his phone started agitating in his left front pocket. He brought the phone out its misery and saw the call was from a strange number. He thought for a moment, then
“Hello”, he said uncertainly.
“Hello Sir, Is this Elliot?”, a feminine voice inquired.
“Yes…I am Elliot. Who are you and how may I help you?”
“This is UBTH emergency unit. A young man was involved in ghastly accident. You seem to be the last person he called. His ID card identifies him as Ugonna Okorie”
“OH my God!”…

* * * * * * * * * *

Anger is a deadly phenomenon; and when it’s cold pangs strikes the soul, reason becomes an illusion. James was engulfed with anger. His mind was cocooned, with knitted threads of rage forming a web around it, temporarily protecting it from sanity. He had almost died trying to retrieve all sorts of indictments from Ugonna. Naturally, Michael was to be the scapegoat.

As Razz B drove into the carport and pulled up, James came out with a life threatening scowl etched on his strong features. He held the right door and thought for a moment, slammed it close and lumbered up the flight of stairs at the entrance of his apartment. He got to the front door and turned the knob slowly, he was being overly calculative. Every stride afforded him the opportunity to clear his head. Every slow movement, a chance to ponder on what to do with Michael. He had just cleared the Ugonna mess, he wasn’t ready for another.

Razz B and Sleek followed closely behind. They didn’t need to be told of the fuzzy and dicey situation. James countenance was pristine enough for them to read. They whispered and motioned their hands to each other, trying to beat out a solution as they walked towards the entrance door.

James had not intended for it to turn out this way. Matter of fact, the predicament had escalated, more than he bargained for.

The operation was supposed to be an easy one. Kill the girl, steal her ATM card, get the money, no one gets hurt. No link was supposed to be established between Razz B, Sleek and him. How would he have known Jennifer had talked to Michael about Razz and Sleek? How would he have known Michael would halt his closing speech and jet out that night? If Michael hadn’t come outside, he probably won’t have known the culprits. And he had squared off to him that fateful day and that marked the beginning of doomsday for them all.

The sound of the door being opened arrested James back to reality, as Razz and Sleek came inside. They walked over to sit on the couch, adjacent to the one James spread on. No one was talking; everyone was having a mental journey. Their minds journeyed to the nook and crannies of wherever they’ve lived in, searching for answers.

Sleek’s travelled to Ubiaja, a relatively springing town in Eshan South East LGA of Edo state. Razz’s was about to travel when he saw James eyes give way and tears started rolling down. He was shocked. He had never seen James show the slightest tinge of emotion. Seeing tears trickling down his eyes was like seeing Idi Amin, the butcher of Uganda, crying before a white man. He couldn’t believe his eyes.

“Boss”, he called out to James.
No response.

He called again.
No response.

James’ mind had travelled back to a gruesome night in Okene, 15years back…

gboss4sure: The write ups aint coming on time and though is a very nice story but you know that Nigerians don't have patience. if your updates comes at least once a day then the comments and criticizen will never seize to flow. Check the threads that the owners updates daily and you will see what am telling you about.

Okay Boss. I will try to do just that.

Though i have read alot of novels and reading yours so far, i have not been able to see any flaw(s). But, i love errors. I will surely let you know when i find one. Just keeping writing n updating. Your work is my evening tonic, i love it. Kudoos to you bro.

hmmm... keep dem coming bro

Slipknot: Though i have read alot of novels and reading yours so far, i have not been able to see any flaw(s). But, i love errors. I will surely let you know when i find one. Just keeping writing n updating. Your work is my evening tonic, i love it. Kudoos to you bro.

Evening tonic? Wao! Thanks Man.
As for pointing out the errors, do ensure to do that when you spot one.

adegwurulez: hmmm... keep dem coming bro

Adegwurulez boss. I sure will keep them coming. I loyal die!

Nic1 bro...pls can I get a copy of the book in my email nd any other interesting book?olanike.oladipupo@yahoo.com.Thank U̶̲̥̅̊ nd God bless

Nyc 1. U really nid 2 update fast.

Tee-y rose:
Nic1 bro...pls can I get a copy of the book in my email nd any other interesting book?olanike.oladipupo@yahoo.com.Thank U̶̲̥̅̊ nd God bless

guy cool down, wait for the update tillthe end

Slipknot:


guy cool down, wait for the update tillthe end

wetin im wan use am do...make e go do any cynical or dubious thing with am o#shine ur eyes Nkpume!

Slipknot U̶̲̥̅̊ are very funny...na today people don dey send books to dia readers?do something dubious for wat?pls watch ur comment nxt time.Thank u

Tee-y rose:
Nic1 bro...pls can I get a copy of the book in my email nd any other interesting book?olanike.oladipupo@yahoo.com.Thank U̶̲̥̅̊ nd God bless

TY dear. I wish I knew exactly what to say, but me i no no. Would get back to you when I do eventually. Btw, thanks, you just made my day.

Hardeluv: Nyc 1. U really nid 2 update fast.

Harde ooo. I yope you yaff not vex. Na PHCN dey dull me ni o. They seem to be holidaying in my area. Today is most likely to see an update sha. Make we dey watch.

Ur story is a unique one.i fnd it hard to bliv ds is ur 1st tym of writing.Keep it up bro.

Keep it coming Op..
Save for ur inconsistent update, i tink u r flawless..

Work on d bolded dear..

Nice one nkpume try and make subsiquent post longer biko

Para mood activated...will unleash my anger on dis guy ooo.....dnt beg me....dnt hold me jooor let me fight him han han ave bin waiting 4 an update since...oya no vex com update

MeBoo: Keep it coming Op..
Save for ur inconsistent update, i tink u r flawless..

Work on d bolded dear..

Flawless? Wao. Am touched *raises chair up in excitement* .
[qu

christe james: Nice one nkpume try and make subsiquent post longer biko

Oga James, no worry man. Your wish is my command.

Xclusvibebay: Para mood activated...will unleash my anger on dis guy ooo.....dnt beg me....dnt hold me jooor let me fight him han han ave bin waiting 4 an update since...oya no vex com update[/qu
Abeg, neva para now. E cams down joor. Update in a jiffy.

Slipknot:



guy cool down, wait for the update tillthe end

ote]
Slip me man. I appreciate man.

felipemadero: wetin im wan use am do...make e go do any cynical or dubious thing with am o#shine ur eyes Nkpume!

Lol Felipe. Na hawk eyes i get o
ote author=omotayo9177]Ur story is a unique one.i fnd it hard to bliv ds is ur 1st tym of writing.Keep it up bro.

Thanks man. Cool you find the story unique and i sure will keep it up.

* * * * * * * * * *

MARCH, 1997.

Okene is a city in Kogi State, South Central Nigeria, predominantly dominated by the Egbiras. It is bordered by Lokoja to the North East and to the West by Adabi. It’s largely a Muslim city with a fast growing Christian population. The inhabitants can be best described as almost hospitable. In fact, at the twilight of the 20th century, Okene became the permanent home of untold riot. It was the era of religious intolerance and ethnic animosity. James Abdullahi was just 9 then.

His father Stephen Abdullahi had gone out make ends meet. He was a struggling man who had seen his fortunes taken a nose dive of late. Quite frankly, his family was subjected to acute impoverishment. He worked at a low income paying shoe firm while his wife ran a Bus Park restaurant at night.

Umaru Abdullahi, the son of a marquee Muslim Alhaji, had been disowned by his father, because he had switched faith from Islam to Christianity.

“Infidel”, his father had spat out that day in complete rage, when his son had told him of his new religion. Umaru Abdullahi thought he saw a tear escape Alhaji’s right eye that afternoon. The tear spoke volume of disappointment. Days after, Umaru Abdullahi became Stephen Abdullahi.

Stephen had not switched loyalties because of a perceived Islamic inadequacy. His conversion had been purely engineered by love.

He had fallen madly in love with Peace, an orphaned Christian Okene girl, but there was a prerequisite for her to marry him. He was to bring his sojourn in Islam to an abrupt end.
“Islam is a religion of violence,” Peace had agitated once. “And it contradicts my name and what I believe in by every standard. I know you are a peaceful and loving man Umaru,” She had said, enclosing his cheeks in her soft palms reassuringly, “But convert for my sake darling”.

In all, love won.

Freedom have always threaded on arduous paths, so was it with Umaru’s. He tussled it out with Alhaji, his father, but Alhaji had a rock for a heart, once he made a resolution, he stood by it no matter whose ox is gored. Amidst the motherly pleas from Stephen’s Mother, Alhaja Miriam, on that not-to-be-forgotten day, Alhaji vented out,” Once you turn your back at Islam, you cease to be my son”. There was a tone of finality in that.

Stephen wasn’t surprised, he knew his father too well to expect a kid gloves treatment. He took his fate in good faith. A fate worse than death.

That had marked the beginning of hell in a cell for him. Alhaji had frozen him out of his firm, ejected him from his house and made life miserable for his biological son.

Stephen had gotten a job at a local shoe manufacturing firm, if he were a graduate, things would have been better, he knew. Alhaji never allowed his son consume precious time going to a tertiary institution, he had a business, what was the need for education? Stephen’s take home pay in his new job could hardly transport him to some miles away from the firm. His meagre income collided with the little Peace got from the Bus Park restaurant she ran, and they coped quite well, until the arrival of their son, James.

James and his mama were at the Bus Park that night, running her petty restaurant. James was barely nine; so naturally, he helped out with the dishes. The time was 10pm and his papa was not back from work then, quite unusual, for 6pm was his regular arrival time. His mama had had that scowl of anxiety etched on her face over the last two hours. She would look to the street immediately she heard a horn. She was incredibly worried, for her husband hadn’t given the slightest hint he was going to be arriving late.

The Bus Park had begun to empty itself of human disturbance. It had thrown quite a handful to their houses. The residue humans were getting ready to leave, still no trace of James’ papa. The worry had developed talons and they were clawing at James’ mama. She was nervous, jittery and uncomfortable as she packed up.

Little James was at the back of the shop, doing the dishes and humming to a song when he heard the clattering of cutlasses and the chattering of a hysteric crowd from afar. As he ran outside to verify just what was causing such rancour, he collided with his mum at the middle of the shop, who was running towards his direction.
“Mama…”, he let out unconsciously.
“Shhh”, she shushed him. “Listen carefully James”, she began with a terrified husky voice, almost a whisper “Those Adavi people attacked your papa’s company today,” She paused a little “… and killed him”
“Papa!” he gasped in pain.
“Shhh James…They want to alienate your grandfather’s lineage, they are coming after you son. RUN!”
The information was too much for little James to process. “What are you saying?, you are scaring me mama.” She wished she wasn’t
“Listen son, there is no time. Be brave...Just run…I will try and by you some time”
“No mama” he was weeping uncontrollably, “lets run together…lets run mama”
“We can’t make it together, they are closer now. Please run son” She was crying, holding the head of her little boy and pressing her forehead to his. “Run as far as you can, and promise mama you would not come back”
He was crying.
“Promise me son, pleaseeeee. Promise me you would never come back.” She was shaking him to elicit a reply”
“I promise Mama” he cried out.
“Now go!...God is with you!” She assured him, as she watched his little receding figure fade out in the dark.

* * * * * * *

James came back at the dead of the night and found his mother butchered, a smile contorted on her face.

That was when evil rose…

There is a flicker of evil in everyone, just one horrible experience and the fire gets ignited.

Wot a bad experience.

N thus, He turned a beast....

Hmmmm...pitiable

Sad

Dis is a nice and well written story.following thread

Dis is a nice and well written story.following thread.

Jumizie13: Wot a bad experience.

Yeah, very pathetic.