I feel lonely here. Is anybody there?

yeap o...snc u no fid us 4 lyk 2dais dts y we dai luk lyk pikin way en mama no dai ous...*kiddin ooo*

Ur not alone o. But come o, I think say Hope get sense b4? Wetin come dey happen nah? Honestly, I dey provoke.

You not alone. We are why, to read ur story

CHAPTER FOUR
Mr. Direction would come for Hope. He would take him to whatever school he wished to attend. Hope sat up on his sofa and pondered on his success so far, despite having suffered in the hands of many, back in his town. He had not even opened the tagged bag he had with him since reaching the complex. When he opened it, he found some documents in them and a little powder wrapped in a small paper.
What is this? He thought. It’s definitely a face powder—must be very costly, so I won’t use it anyhow, he thought further. He zipped the bag again, having not taken his time to open the documents.
Hope heard a knock on the locked door in tandem with the alarm of the wall clock; therefore he fastened his socks to his feet hurriedly and hastened to the door to open it for the guest he guessed would be Mr. Direction. He was shocked when he saw two men of superior complexion in police uniform, accompanied by Mr. Accomplice.
“Here he is,” said Mr. Accomplice, pointing hostilely at Hope. Hope was shocked beyond measure as the policemen said, “Mr. Man, you are under arrest!”
“For what?” he asked.
“You’ll know your offence when you get behind bars,” they said. The superior of the two SCs asked his junior officer to search the rooms for the apparel and he began the search immediately.
“Here, I’ve found it!” the latter found it out at last.
“I told you,” said Mr. Accomplice. “He has the forbidden Apparel of Apparition with him.”
“Have his bag too,” said the superior SC police. “We’ll go give it a thorough examination.”
Hope found himself behind bars. He wondered what had taken over him overnight to destroy his age-long dream overnight. He felt like committing suicide immediately and damn the consequence of ending his everlasting soul in the hot Dam of Damnation. He wept.
The three sons of Mr. Liar managed to squeeze themselves between the bars and get into the prison to communicate with Hope. They advised him that the only solution to his predicament was to commit suicide as he had thought earlier.
“But how am I going to do that?” he asked them.
“Simple!” they said. Not far from these bars lay a firelighter that fell off the grip of a smoking guard earlier. You’ll take it and burn up yourself alive.”
“Good suggestion,” said Hope. ‘But how do I reach it? Will you bring it for me?”
“Not at all, Hope. We call it suicide and not murder. Everything that should lead to your death should be done by your hands and your hands alone. So…just put out your hand from this gate and it’ll reach it.”
Hope put out his hand to get the firelighter but the tip of his longest finger could only barely touch it. Just then, two souls squeezed themselves in. They were Commonsense and Discretion.
“Hope, are you as senseless as this?” said Commonsense.
“Leave him, let him do it,” the sons of Mr. Liar uttered.
“Hope, don’t mind these new guests,” said Wishy-Washy. “How I wish the cops had found them and arrested them before they got in here, then what we’d have of them would be their corpses. Hope, don’t mind them. Just have the firelighter and light a fire on yourself.”
“You won’t try such, I’m sure,” Discretion said with a very unusually calm voice.
“Of course I won’t!” Hope spoke up at last. “But why did all these things befall me overnight?”
“Because you refused to watch and pray as your Sage warned you to do,” he replied.
“So…now what’s the solution?” Hope said.
“There can never be a solution,” said Evil Thought. “Death is the only solution.”
Daydream stepped to Hope’s side and creamed his body with the Cream of Dreams, then Hope began to see himself hanged down from a noose. He was wriggling in death when Discretion pulled at his arms and shook him out of his unpleasant daydream.
“Wake up! It’s just a dream!” Commonsense said.
“It’s not just a dream!” the sons of Mr. Liar screamed.
“Get out of here, sons of Mr. Liar!” Hope resisted them and they fled, all of them. Then Commonsense and Discretion took their seats beside him.
“What is really my offence now?” he asked them.
“You probably offended the SCs before you entered the embassy yesterday,” said Commonsense.
“No!” Discretion disagreed. “You allowed Mr. Deceptionist calling himself Receptionist and his accomplice calling himself Accomplish to deceive you and accomplish their goal by making you trade your precious bag with another—and your coats of many colours with the forbidden Apparel of Apparition too.”
“Is there still hope for me to live in this Island and achieve my aim of making the bridge of influence?”
“I’ve not seen the possibility of that now, but—maybe anything can happen,” said Commonsense.
“Not maybe anything can happen,” said Discretion. “Something will definitely happen.”
“Who should I now believe of the two of you? You always contradict each other like some debate addicts.”
The two men looked at each other and smiled. Then Mr. Commonsense said, “Believe me, because without me there cannot be Discretion.”
“It’s the truth, but when you fail I can never fail,” Discretion responded.
“Arguing again?”
“No,” said Commonsense. The two men looked at each other again and smiled. Then they put their hands on Hope’s head and whispered something into his ears. Hope smiled.
“Now I think I get you two: Commonsense would always be the first to make a suggestion at any time. If the situation on ground is a little one, Commonsense solves it easily, but if it is a hard one, Commonsense may fail, but if he fails, Discretion would develop his suggestion and bring the solution. So…without Commonsense’s idea, Discretion is mute. Am I right?”
“Exactly,” they both agreed.
Before they departed, they assured Hope of helping him get a solution to get him out of the prison legally.

Grace Ezeh: Ur not alone o. But come o, I think say Hope get sense b4? Wetin come dey happen nah? Honestly, I dey provoke.

Thank God say hin nor yield to temptation last last.

oga sammy i'm right here with you.u must make up for all those days dat u starved us...
Drop d updates lyk fire during harmattan season.

Michaellegend: oga sammy i'm right here with you.u must make up for all those days dat u starved us...
Drop d updates lyk fire during harmattan season.

I hear u o. Oya make i kon start nah...

CHAPTER FIVE Hope was brought before the court of law for his flaws to be judged. Mr. Justice of the island would sit on the matter, being seated already. Mr. Just had called on Mr. Advocate to solicit Hope’s release. But, as it seemed, Hope would have to be deported to the Commoner Province where he came from. Mr. Just had overheard the conversation of Hope and Deceptionist earlier and had become more attracted to Hope. He had suddenly picked up the conviction that Hopefulness had arrived to bring to pass the fullness of bringing the issue of facial complexions and racial competitions to an end. “Young man, after going through your credentials it was gathered that you have no potential to be the Hopefulness you said you bear. Badmanner was your name at birth. Are you guilty of this accusation or not?” “I am not guilty sir,” Hope spoke up. “It was also said of you that you arrived this island through the forbidden River of Haste, which the Islanders call Hell-Gutter, being filled with skulls of dead people, and not through the River of Achievement according to your claims; guilty or not guilty?” “Not guilty sir,” Hope responded again. “But many people, including your cook, testified to seeing you in the forbidden Apparel of Apparition which Commonsense and Discretion would only put on anyone who comes into this sandy land through the River of Haste. Explain that Mr. Hope as you call yourself.” “As I said before, my Discretion and Commonsense put the Coat of many colours on me, as well as the Medal of the Achievers, but when I got into the embassy yesterday, Mr. Receptionist made Mr. Accomplish to strip it off me and gave me this golden apparel of apparition in replacement, deceiving me that it was the right one for me.” “What about your Medal of the Achievers? Did they also take that from you?” “Before I got into the building, a man of the SCs I never knew took it away from me.” “Hmm…” Mr. Justice breathed deeply. Mr. Antagonist, who had been paid by Mr. Deceptionist and Accomplice to intensify the case upon Hope, stood before the court to speak. He was working for the Isle Court, being a high court of law in the Island of Greatness. “My Lord, what more case do we need to do? It’s bright and clear—this boy, Badmanner, came through the forbidden River of Haste. All evidences are here—Miss Haughty his cook has also testified to the fact that he came home in the Apparel of Apparition two nights back. My Lord, I’d suggest that you use your power to make sure this boy is sent back to his province as soon as possible. He’s not fit for this Great island.” “Objection my Lord,” Mr. Advocate thumped up. He was given the nod. “I’d rather suggest you probe into the robes and wardrobes of Mr. Receptionist and his accomplice to discover the skeletons in there. They are not innocent at all. There is a witness over here who could speak to that end.” “Who? Let such person come out now to speak,” said Mr. Justice. Mr. Just rose to his feet and came forward. Accomplice and Deceptionist squeezed their faces when they saw him. They were not at ease at all. “I, Mr. Just, vowed that all I shall say before this court will be true to the best of my ability,” said Just.

Oga sammy!!!
What is happening nah?

Michaellegend: Oga sammy!!!
What is happening nah?

nothing o. if I wan upload d network no go just wan gree ni o. make I try upload again first.

He was asked to speak on. “I saw this young man yesterday. He came into the embassy with the Coat of many colours on him as he has said…but left with the Apparel of Apparition. I’m very sure that Mr. Receptionist my superior was responsible for this, as well as Accomplish his accomplice.”
“What is the proof?” asked Mr. Justice.
“They were the ones who attended to him. I’m sure they exchanged his bag and gave him the wrong one, thus the name we have on the credentials. This boy is indeed Hope and not Badmanner, because I overheard him say this in the presence of Mr. Receptionist and he didn’t object to it then.”
“There’s not a proof yet,” said Mr. Justice. “Give this court a concrete proof.”
“I have a proof,” said Mr. Just. “Badmanner was the name of a bad fellow who entered this island five years back. I’m sure it was his bag that was replaced with Hope’s bag, thus the name we found in the credential.”
Mr. Justice laughed.
“Mr. Just, you’re out of point. That Badmanner you spoke of has been deported since then and his bag reported publicly burnt. Was it not shown in the news? And you know this, so why raising this kind of issue?” said Mr. Justice. “I believe they are merely namesakes.”
When Just wanted to say something, Mr. Justice asked him to be still.
Mr. Antagonist rose to speak.
“My Lord, I’ll be glad if you could just let this court case end here by sending this Badmanner back to his province with immediate effect.”

After everything had been said, Mr. Justice said, “Here is my judgment…” He paused as he felt he heard the voice of Commonsense, saying, “Keep your judgment and do justice.”
He spoke again:
“Due to the thorough scrutiny still taking place on the bag found in the possession of this young man, his case shall be adjourned till the nineteenth day of this month. Arise!”
Hope had to be led back to the prison. He wept.

CHAPTER SIX
Hope sat on the cold floor of the prison. Tears rolled down his face. He sprawled on the floor and wept on. He felt a hand on his nape.
“Hope, why are you weeping?” a voice came up, Evil Thought’s.
“I should weep,” said Hope. “In fact, I should curse the day I was born.”
“Hmm…” the three sons of Mr. Liar breathed heavily. “What is the rationality in cursing the day you were born?” said Evil Thought. “The implication is that by causing that day, everyone born that date would fall victim, and by so doing you’ll be causing the misfortune, or possibly the death of the innocent ones who were not responsible for your misfortune while leaving the guilty one to go scot free.”
“It’s the truth,” said Hope. “Maybe I should curse Mr. Deceptionist and his Accomplice then.”
“They are not responsible for your misfortune, Hope,” he replied.
“Then who?”
Wishy-Washy stepped to Hope’s side and put his mouth next to his right ear and said, “How I wish you knew the nationality of the irrational being responsible for your plight now, then you will not take it lightly with that irresponsible personality later. How I wish you could ponder deeply now to predict who dipped you in this predicament, then you will wonder later that such person could do such a thing to you. How I wish this creature could realize the man behind his predicament now, then he would actualize the dream of cursing his Creator later…”
“Enough!” Hope yelled. “Tell me who’s responsible for this woe.”
“It’s your foe,” said Evil Thought. “Curse him and die.”
“Who?”
“Father Creator,” said Evil Thought.
Hope didn’t hesitate to yell at him.
“You speak like one of the students of Mr. Nonsense in the Fools’ School of Thought in Happy-Go-Lucky town! Get away from me all of you!”
They all fled at once.
Hope was left alone now. He bowed his head and put it between his jerky knees, gnashing his teeth. The case would be heard in court again soon. Hope prayed…
Mr. Just had no rest of mind. He wanted Hope out by all means. Discretion and Commonsense had paid him a visit to bring the issue of Hope’s freedom before him.
“Mr. Just,” said Commonsense. “Isn’t it high time you declared publicly what you know about this matter?”
“You know it’s my desire to have Mr. Backhander arrested,” said Mr. Just.
“So, why hesitate reporting his bad deeds to the Court of Justice?”
“I fear for my life,” said Just in fright. “This Mr. Receptionist has wasted many lives in the past. And…shall my life now be wasted as well?”
“If you let Discretion guide you in this, you shall not be killed,” said Commonsense.
Discretion cleared his throat.
“You know vividly that anyone who was to be deported was kept back by Mr. Backhander after receiving backhanders from them. Such persons he would keep away from being seen and would get them forged Bags of Credentials having entirely different names. Such thing is what he did to Badmanner five years back. And now, it’s his bag Mr. Receptionist used in exchange for Hope’s bag in connivance with Mr. Backhander. He’s going to hand over Hope’s bag to Badmanner presently.”
“So—what should I do now?”
“Go quickly to the Embassy of Embarrassment as soon as possible and get Hope’s bag.”
“What about his Coat of many colours as well as his medal? Mr. Justice would also ask for that as evidence alongside the Bag of Credentials.”
Commonsense spoke this time: “You’re funny Mr. Just. Is there any difference between one Coat of many colours and another? Don’t you have yours hung for years in your apartment?”
“So, Mr. Just, just be fast about it before Hope is deported.”
“I’ll try my best. Thanks.” Mr. Just began to rise.
Hope raised his head from his knees. He had been praying all the while. He wiped the tears on his face and suddenly felt a level of confidence in his Creator.
Mr. Deceptionist surprisingly paid him a visit in his cell.
“Hope,” the man spoke with a very low tone. “If you can dance to the tune of our trombone, you shall leave this cell very soon, and…you shall not be deported.”
“What tune?” Hope wanted to know.
“If you could obey what we want you to do for us, then you’ll be free.”
“What’s it?” he asked once again.
The man looked round to be sure no one was listening.
“Hope, we have it in our power to release you presently…only if you’ll help us in this…”
“What?” Hope was impatient.
“You’ll work with us in our power tower.”
“Power Tower?” Hope was confused.
“Exactly.”
“What do you mean? Do you work in the power tower?”
“Yes.”
“Are you the king of this province or a prince or their kin, or what? As far as I know, it’s only the rulers of this country that performs their duty in the power tower. How come you’re now…?”
“Don’t talk too much, Hope,” said the man. “I’m not talking about that power tower here: but our own Power Tower—where we manufacture the Powder of Power.”
“Powder of Power!”
“Keep your voice low,” the man cautioned him.
The Powder of Power the man had just mentioned was known to Hope back in Happy-Go-Lucky as bad goods which was highly prohibited in almost all, if not all, the provinces on earth. The powder had been notorious for its intoxicating effects on the users—being capable of incapacitating their sense organs and making them momentarily senseless, creating some sorts of illusions that they were on a higher platform than they really were.
The Powder of Power was the same that turned Mr. Gentle to Mr. Wild few years back. Mr. Popular became infamous under the influence of the same powder and died prematurely, just the same way Madam Onward turned wayward and mysteriously ran mad when she ran out of the powder. When Mr. Illustrious became disillusioned under the influence of the powder, he hanged himself and lost his life. Mr. Addict, after being made to stop inhaling it, became abnormal and would do anything to get the powder, even if it would cost him parting with any of his organs. All these things Hope had read in Mr. Knowledge’s library back in his own province.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Hope made known.
“You can’t?” the man said.
“Yes, I can’t.”
“You’re not as clever as Badmanner whose name we’ve now made you to bear. Badmanner would soon be walking about in this province, bearing your name, while you’ll be sent back to your town. Yes! You’ll then deliver my message to Sage. You’ll tell him you met me over here and I was the one behind your deportation. Tell him I said as far as I, Deceptionist, am still alive in this province, no one from your town will be accepted here. Also tell him that the religion he practices is inferior here and anyone practicing such is inferior here as well.”
Hope was greatly angered.
“I practise christIANITY, therefore I Am Not Inferior To You!” he screamed.
“You’re but a dead man!” he said. “I wanted you deported alive before, but now your rudeness has called for you being deported dead. Have my words.”
“I am not disposed to answer you in this matter. But I know that Father Creator whom I serve shall deliver me from your hands; and if he wouldn’t, let it be known to you that I shan’t bow to your wish that I should help to smuggle the Powder of Power!”
“We shall see!” the man set his fierce countenance before his face and turned to leave.
Evil Thought and his brothers began to squeeze themselves through the bars of the prison, but Hope got them away by shouting, “Get away!”

CHAPTER SEVEN
“The case before this court today is the one between Badmanner and the Island of Greatness,” Mr. Justice announced.
The court proceedings began. Hope was in the dock.
Mr. Advocate rose to defend Hope as he had ever been doing.

“Hope my client can never do these things alleged against him.”
“Proof!” said Mr. Justice.
“We all know that here in the Island of Greatness we don’t give lodges to anyone not putting on his Coat of many colours. How come Mr. Accomplice allowed Hope pen down his name in his book when he was not in there with his Coat? I would like the court to reason this matter out.”
The court went silent. Mr. Accomplice was called upon to speak for himself.
“Sir…Mr. Justice…of a truth I did not want him to pen down his name in there, but he threatened to tear the book to pieces and no one was in there then. I was struggling the book with him when my Commonsense and Discretion asked me to let him have his way. They only advised me to seek the police and get him arrested thereafter.”

“Hmm…” Mr. Justice was nodding.
“Ah…” Hope shed tears. Mr. Deceptionist was grinning at one corner. Mr. Just covered his head, weeping for Hope.
“Objection my Lord!” Mr. Advocate spoke up, arousing Hope’s hope. He was granted the access to speech. “The cylindrical glass door wouldn’t have opened for this boy if he was entering in with a bad Bag of Credentials. How come he could enter in with such bag? Definitely, his good bag was exchanged in there.”

Mr. Accomplice laughed briskly and said, “Your words have contradicted each other. If indeed we replaced his bag inside the embassy, how was that possible? How did we get a bad bag of credentials through the doors as well?”
“That is the easiest thing with you, since you could operate the doors so well. So...what are you saying here?” Mr. Advocate was angry.
Mr. Justice intervened: “Mr. Accomplish, you haven’t answered his question. He said how come this boy could get into the embassy with the bad bag of credentials as you claimed he did?”
“He didn’t come in with it: he dumped it outside the door. That was why he was hurrying me up to have his name penned down into the book. He picked it up there immediately after.”
“Hmm…” Mr. Justice digested.
Mr. Antagonist indicated that he had something to say. The court went dead in silence to pay attention. Mr. Antagonist said, “Mrs. Expert has made an end to her findings concerning the powdery substance the police said they found in Mr. Badmanner’s bag. I suggest that my Lord calls her up here to speak.”
Mrs. Expert came up as instructed by the judge.
“My Lord, my crew has made an end to the scrutiny of this powder alleged to have been found in the bag of the accused and it is my pleasure to announce to this court that it is the Powder of Power.”
Hope’s head parted way for a strong wave to pass through. He felt the wave run down his spine. He had read it—how Mr. Innocent died many years back. He feared it was now his turn to share in the bitterness of tragedy. For an offence such as this, it had always been death by hanging.

Mr. Deceptionist spanked his shoes and cleared his throat lightly like a delighted goat. Mr. Just collapsed on his chair, having elapsed his energy. Mr. Accomplice revealed the gums of his teeth in smiles. Everyone in there was of the inferior complexion, including Mr. Justice.
The court was in disarray. Some wanted Hope’s freedom, especially those who had been hurt in times past by Mr. Deceptionist and Accomplice his accomplice. All they cared for was to see the man lose a case, irrespective of whether the accused was guilty or not. As a matter of fact, if Mr. Deceptionist had been in support of Hope’s release, then the people in question would have wanted him (Hope) jailed or hanged—but now the reverse was the case.

To bring back silence and harmony, Mr. Justice banged his Hammer of Harmony on the Table of Accountability in front of him, calling for order.
“This is my judgment…” he said.
Hope whispered, “Judge not, so that you will not be judged yourself.” Nobody heard Hope.
“This case has been adjourned!”
They were shocked.
Some cops led Hope back into the Cart of Incarceration which would take him back to the cell.

CHAPTER EIGHT
Mr. Justice was restive. The image of Hope had set before his face.
“The boy’s face looks more than innocent for me to judge him,” said Mr. Justice. “I would have pronounced him dead if not for the voice of my Discretion I heard warning me not to judge him so that I won’t be judged myself. Even Commonsense told me that Mr. Accomplice was telling a lie. How would he have easily succumbed to the threats of this young boy when he hadn’t come armed? It’s not possible.”
Mr. Commonsense and Mr. Discretion pushed the door inside.
“That boy’s name is indeed Hope,” said Commonsense.
“Why did you say so?”
“Can’t you see his character? Can manner be covered? If he was indeed Badmanner, wouldn’t he have shown the whole court some of his bad manners?” Discretion said. “Throughout the proceedings, he was just remaining gentle like a dove and like a lamb being led to the slaughter but wouldn’t speak, just like the son of the Creator you worship yourself.”
“But what shall I do now?” Mr. Justice was confused.
“Pronounce him not guilty,” said Commonsense at once.
“I disagree with you now, Commonsense,” said Discretion.
“Why?” asked Commonsense.
“This offence is a matter of the states and the king is aware of it as well, especially now when the issue of the Powder of Power is involved. Do you know how many provinces on earth would make fun of the Island of Greatness if you pronounced him not guilty and acquit him just like that?”
“So…what should I now do?”
“Go down on your knees,” said Discretion.
“For what?”
“Just do it first,” they both said now.
Mr. Justice obeyed.
“So…what next?” he asked them.
“Close your eyes,” they commanded. It was strange to him. However he obeyed.
“What next?” he asked but had no response, for the two men had fled.
“What next? What should I…?” he opened his eyes and to his shock, he was alone. Then he thought he heard their voices again.
Mr. Justice remained in the kneeling posture and prayed: “Father Creator, lead me; let me not judge the innocent guilty so that I shall not be judged and let me not judge the guilty innocent…”

Mr. Just was in the embassy, dozing. He had a tap on his legs and woke up.
“Go on, do it now,” said Commonsense and Discretion.
Mr. Just did not hesitate. He began to rush away. Mr. Just was heading for Mr. Backhander’s house in the Superiority street, farther away from Inferiority street where Hope stayed just for a night. As he walked amidst the crowd of the SCs he began to feel inferior. They pushed him sideways and tried all their best to avoid him like plague. Mr. Backhander set a dark goggle upon his face so he could look a bit disguised.
“Who’s this disgusting guy disguising for?” said one of them as he snatched his goggle and trampled upon it. They laughed him to scorn.
“Don’t you dare touch me!” Mr. Just cried out. “Look at this!” he showed them his identity card.
They embarrassed him the more when they discovered he was from the Embassy of Embarrassment.
Mr. Just managed to free himself. He skulked and got to Mr. Backhander’s residence at last. He had to jump over the fence so he would not be noticed. He had once been present in the residence—when Mr. Deceptionist brought him there to work for Mr. Backhander: but when he discovered the dishonesty of the SC in question, just after two days, he left the place.
Mr. Just had a big bag with him. The bag contained his own Coat of many colours and Medal of the Achiever. Mr. Just got to a door and peeped through the keyhole. The room was dark. He advanced to another and did the same. Then he saw a bag on the table in there.
Someone tapped him…
Humility sat on Hope’s bed after spreading a blanket on it. She was sobbing in a pillow.
“O Father Creator, bring home my boss. Let him not die this death, for I saw him not guilty in my dream last night: yet the noose was on his neck and he was to be hanged. Just then I woke up. O master Hope, the hope of the ICs in this Island: rise to your feet again, for you are fit for this task of bridging the gap between the ICs and the SCs. I perceived you are here to destroy the ratio believed by those attending Mr. Racism School of Thought, where the ratio one-race-is-a–million-time-superior-to-the-other is extensively used. Let him come back home safe and sound, not bound…”
Miss Haughty barged in.
“What are you humming, Humility?”
“Er, uh…nothing,” said Humility, smiling.
“That young man is guilty, therefore let him be hanged.”
“So…you heard my prayers!” Humility was feeling shy.
“Yes, I heard it all!” said Haughty. “It cannot be answered.”
“Haughty, I heard you testified against him in court. That’s not for your credit, Haughty. Why should you do that?”
“But it wasn’t a false witness. I saw him come home that day in the Apparel of Apparition and I was scared. I had to climb down the kitchen window to avoid him.”
“But I didn’t see him in such garment at all,” Humility confessed.
“Forget about him Hummy and let’s say some other things,” Haughty said. “Do you know we’d be having a new boss today; the real Hope, older than that one? So…I won’t have to suffer the difficulty of stooping low for my age mate, because this one is far older than me.”
“What are you saying?” said Humility. “Does it mean you find it difficult to respect people who are only a little older than you are?”
“Exactly!” said Haughty. “As I feel, the accused cannot be older than me, but was made my master. It’s not fair! Even if he’s older, he cannot be more than a year older. So, why should he be made a boss over me? I’m glad he has fallen already.”
“Haughty, you ought not wish for people’s hurt,” said Humility.
“I wish to see anyone fall whenever I have him over me,” said Haughty.
“Then you’d be the one to fall yourself. Haughty, pride and destruction goes hand in hand and haughtiness brings a fall. Haughty, if you don’t stop being naughty you’ll fall.”
“Shut up and mind your own business Hummy! And never in your life interfere in the affair of my family!” Haughty got angry and walked away.
Humility was shocked, for she knew nothing about the family Haughty was accusing her about.

Haughty was just fifteen, two years younger than Humility. Though not delectable or of fair countenance, yet she anticipated that she would be selected and counted worthy to participate in the yearly Islander’s fashion fair. Haughty had thin legs that seemed incapable of effectively carrying the rest of her body. Her eyes were bulgy and her stomach protruded like a pregnant woman’s. Haughty was of those who believed in the ratio ‘kill-foetuses-as-much-time-as-you-wish’. She had done that countless times before. Haughty was the daughter of a rich IC who pampered her overly. She became rude to everyone while her father was alive. Haughty had five elder brothers: she was the last child and only daughter. Her father, Pride, had sent his wife packing long ago because she was not learned. How would he handle the reality of having an illiterate wife? he thought.
Haughty made sure that her father remanded her elder brothers for reprimanding her. Pride even went as far as disowning them when they wouldn’t stop reprimanding her for her excessive ego.
When Haughty was ripe for school, she refused to go. After much persuasion and plea from relatives she agreed to attend, asking to be enrolled in the Ego School of Thought attended by the SCs alone. However, she stopped attending, first day at school, after spitting into the eye of a teacher, an SC: the teacher was annoyed for her ego being stripped off her by a kid of eight she hated, who was even an IC. Therefore she beat her so much that she fainted and had to be rushed to the hospital.
Mr. Pride, her father, was very displeased at the news. He hired many ICs and they stormed the school unawares and killed and injured many of the SCs there. It was a great shock for the entire Island when the news was aired. Pride’s life was destroyed by the dart of death while he was attempting to escape from the retaliating SCs on a horseback with her daughter, but Haughty fell down to the earth. Hopelessly, Haughty groped for death on the earth as the killers advanced towards her to have her. Just then, a soul jumped out of the woods and shot them all dead with the metallic Tube of Turbulence which had spontaneously emitted many small fast-moving pointed cylindrical Metals of Mortality into their bodies.
Mr. Seek-Money, the killer, came close to Haughty on the ground she had fallen and pointed the hollow end of the tube at her. She had to plead for her life.
Mr. Seek-Money took Haughty to a remote area and added her to his bevy of young girls which he would use to get gain by making them perform in weird public shows and prostitution. Haughty worked like a slave in the enclaves of Mr. Seek-Money in his cave called the Cave of Slaves for five years before she could escape. And then she swallowed her pride momentarily and condescended to the level of becoming a house maid.
…Just thumped up. His heart missed a beat at the cold touch he’d just had on his back.
He sighed when he discovered it was Evil Thought and his brothers.
“Mr. Just, do you want to carry that bag in there?” they whispered.
“Get away from me,” he whispered at the sons of Mr. Liar, since he would not want to arouse the suspicion of Mr. Backhander and his people with a shout.
“We won’t get away from you,” said Evil Thought. “You know a whisper can’t chase us away.” They were laughing. Mr. Just was speechless. Just then, he thought he had the voices of Commonsense and Discretion asking him to quote something.
“I am the temple of Father Creator…I am the temple of Father Creator…” Mr. Just began to hum silently, casting his attention away from the sons of Mr. Liar. When he looked around him later, he could not find them anymore.
Mr. Just put a key into the keyhole and entered the empty room. Quickly, he unzipped the bag on the table and emptied its content into the one he had with him after checking to be sure that the credentials in there were Hope’s legal own. As he was about to take his leave, he began to hear the sounds of footsteps approaching. He was cold. Somebody opened the door. Mr. Just was lucky that he hadn’t been seen, because he had swiftly hid behind the opened door.
The man at the door came inside further and stared at the bag. Just then, Mr. Just jumped out of his corner and fled, banging the door after him. The man was surprised. He had been sent by Mr. Backhander to fetch the bag on the table. Now without opening it he knew already that it would be empty. His name was Accessory, the personal assistant of Mr. Backhander.
“I see him! He’s Mr. Just!” he screamed.
Mr. Just was unsure of where to go with the bag. He didn’t know the residence of Mr. Justice, else he would take it there and have Hope’s case settled out of court. Discretion directed him to get it to the Inferiority Complex where Hope lived. He hurried down there immediately. Mr. Just had barely got into the corridor of the complex when he saw Villain intending to waylay him; a hefty Inferior Complexioned man leering at him. Mr. Just knew he had something up his sleeves, so he changed direction swiftly. Villain turned towards him. Mr. Just joined himself to the crowd and Villain lost sight of him.
Mr. Just was just at the base of a long stairway in the inferiority complex when he saw Villain again. Villain gave him a hot chase. Mr. Just ran like a donkey but Villain was more agile, jumping on the banisters like a monkey. Mr. Just petered out of his sight suddenly when they got to the first floor.
“Where’s this man?” Villain whispered to himself.
Villain began to open the doors one after the other. He saw Humility passing by. At last he opened one and found Just shivering at a corner.
“Ha! Ha! Ha!” Villain laughed. “I found you at last!”
Mr. Just could not do anything. He just stared at Villain, who had pointed the Dagger of Danger at him.
“Give me the bag!” Villain screamed at him.
Mr. Just did not argue. He just handed it over to him. When Villain had collected it, he thrust the knife into Mr. Just’s belly and blood poured.
“Good for you…for making me run so much before getting this.” Villain was laughing.

Happy Sunday Friends!!!

Pls when is ur next update sir!!

Sammy Hoe: Happy Sunday Friends!!!

xame here man

teetee92: Pls when is ur next update sir!!

My next update is...
now ma!!!

Dedicated to teetee92...


CHAPTER NINE
Hope had just finished praying when Humility paid him a visit.
“What are you here for?” Hope asked.
“It’s so…ur-gent s-sire,” she said.
“What’s it?”
“S-sire...this bag—your credentials are in it.”
Hope was shocked.
“What do you mean?” he whispered. “I—I mean how d’you get this?”
“Mr. Just gave it to me: he asked me to give you...sire.”
“What about him?” Hope was scared something bad had befallen him.
Humility was weeping.
“What’s it? Tell me…”
“Villain was chasing him hotly. I’m scared he’s caught up with him now. Please have the bag sire and let me get back to the complex to see what has befallen him.”
“But where did he get the bag from?” Hope asked.
“I don’t know sire,” said Humility. “All I know was that he came into your apartment with a bag and quickly turned its content into another bag, which is this. Then he asked me to get it across to you as fast as possible. I met Villain close to your apartment and passed by him. He set his eyes steadfastly on the bag and then let me have my way without searching its content.”
“But…I can’t have the bag over here. I shan’t be allowed to have it.”
Humility pondered for a minute and sighed at last after perceiving that she had heard the voices of Commonsense and Discretion.
“Alright sire, I’ll get it across to Mrs. Confidant my mentor who worships in the Edifice of Edification. She’s an IC too. I’ll tell her everything about the bag.”
“Will it be safe with her? I’d have suggested getting it to Mr. Advocate.”
“But I don’t know his home address. Do you sire?”
“No,” said Hope. He let her have her way eventually…

“What’s all these rubbish!” Mr. Backhander yelled when he saw the content of the bag Villain had just brought to him. Mr. Deceptionist, Accessory and Accomplice also looked into the bag and were greatly displeased when they saw the irrelevant papers in it.
“This Just is very desperate,” said Accomplice. “It was because of him we decided to keep the bag away from this embassy where he could reach it, yet he had the gut to get to Mr. Backhander’s home to have it, but I’m glad he’s now without a gut, according to what Villain here testified.”
“Keep quiet Mr. Accomplice,” said Backhander. “We need him alive now! He mustn’t die, else we’d all be dead men soon. Hope must not have those things shown to Mr. Justice tomorrow. Villain, go get him here alive—alive!” Mr. Backhander shouted.
“But…but he’s d-dead!” Villain protested.
“Get him here alive! Accomplice, please accompany him and bring that thief here in a jiff!” Mr. Backhander screamed.

Just had shut his eyes, having lost much blood to the pierce of the dagger. However, Humility would not give up on him, having taken care of the wound. Her songs called the hums of humility as well as her father’s songs called the hums of humbleness had kept Mr. Just alive so far, relieving his pains.
“Mr. Just, you can’t just die on us like that,” Humility said, shaking him and weeping.
“G—go…help H—Hope…” the man could not complete his speech.
The door gave way and two men stepped in. They took him away.

good day every one. how was ur night?

CHAPTER TEN
Mr. Just was dumped in the Dungeon of Dungs and severely tortured with punches from Villain and truncheons belonging to Mr. Backhander and his crew. Mr. Backhander singlehandedly tied him upside down lopsidedly and fiercely pierced his skin with many pointed objects, including the Pins of Pains which had the potency of rendering a victim impotent thereafter. Villain had hit him hard several times with his fists.
“Now tell us where you took the bag to,” Villain asked him, but he didn’t speak. Mr. Backhander held his neck and shook it vigorously but Just kept quiet.
Mr. Accessory joined them.
“How did it go?” Mr. Backhander asked him. He was under the influence of the Weed of Weirdness, having just puffed its smoke into his lungs.
Accessory answered, “I’m sorry; access wasn’t granted me to reach Hope in the cell. In fact, I was told that he doesn’t want to see me because he doesn’t know me.”
“What shall we do now?” asked Accomplice, having a bottle of the Wine of Swine with him, his eyes being made red under its influence. Mr. Deceptionist poised his wrinkled pinkie on his wrinkled forehead and gnashed his teeth in annoyance.
“Mr. Backhander sir…this is a serious issue. If Hopefulness gets to the Isle Court with the bag tomorrow, it’s going to be a complicated issue because we shall all be implicated and incarcerated,” Mr. Deceptionist made his mind known.
“Sir…I have a suggestion,” said Accessory.
“What’s it?” Mr. Backhander asked.
“Let’s set Villain as vigilante to watch him closely tomorrow before he gets to the court. If Hope has the bag in his possession, Villain will snatch it away.”
“That’s no wise suggestion at all,” Mr. Backhander disproved. “I’m sure the bag isn’t with Hope because bags don’t have wings to fly: Mr. Just must have kept it somewhere inside the complex.”
“Yes!” Villain suddenly thumped up. “I’ll get back to the complex right now. There was an old-fashioned lady I saw with him earlier, treating him. She must have taken the bag away.”
“You should have brought them both here!” Mr. Backhander screamed at him.
“Sir…I’ll go and do that right away…”
Humility wept. She feared for Mr. Just’s life, who was now halfway between life and death.
“O Father Creator, spare the life of Mr. Just. Let my hums ring still in his strained brain to suppress his oppressive pains and drain every little grain of pains in his blood. How art the mighty falling? O Mr. Just! the son of Righteousness, filled with sound doctrines: you shall not die but live to declare the works of Father Creator continuously in the Edifice of Edification. O Father Creator, seek after the lives of those who spend their whole lives just to unjustly seek after the life of Just and let them be covered with the Silk of Sickness. Let them fall and rise no more…”
Humility was jolted out by the creak of the door she just heard. Two men came in.
“You scared me,” she said when she saw that they were her Commonsense and Discretion.
“What are you still doing here?” said Commonsense.
“I’ll stay here and pray until Just returns to me,” she replied.
“Are you serious at all?” said Commonsense. “Don’t you think Mr. Backhander’s people would return to seek you? Remember, their aim is to get the bag which you now have.”
“They won’t return here,” said Humility. “I’ve prayed that they shouldn’t come back here. And you know there’s nothing prayer cannot do.”
“It’s the truth,” Commonsense accepted but Discretion raised his voice and said, “What a foolish risk you want to take my dear Humility! Isn’t it safe for you to stay away from here, at least till tomorrow? Will you risk your life for nothing?”
Humility reasoned the words of Discretion and said, “You’re right Discretion. I’ll take my leave now.” In ten seconds Humility had begun to have her limbs in action as she climbed down the stairs of the complex perplexed.

Sammy Hoe:
My next update is...
now ma!!!

I'm a sir.... Sir

Today is. P STING DAY...I keep posting as long as you comment on a previous post. Let's start>>>

teetee92:

I'm a sir.... Sir

What!!! Sir, when did male start bearing titilayo or Titilope as the case may be?

Haughty barged in. Her lips were red as well as her long nails.
She sighed and said, “I don’t just know how I slept off amidst Hummy’s humorous hums. Aren’t there many things to pray for than those things she was demanding? Mr. Wealth is there, she wouldn’t ask for him—Fame and Prosperity live everywhere in this Island but she was blind to them. She didn’t ask for the recovery of Mr. Illustrious those days when he was critically ill and disillusioned before he died. How come she’s now pleading earnestly for the life of Mr. Just whom nobody cares about? The edifice of edification where he works is nothing to be reckoned with before the temple of temptation where I worship.”
Three men came in.
“Mr. Liar’s sons, you’re welcome,” she said when she saw them.
“Look at you, Haughty,” they said.
“How am I looking?” she asked them with an aura of pride.
“Just turn around…turn around…turn around,” said Evil-Thought. She was turning around, her jumpy skirt of dirt jumping up and down her dirty hips. “Am I not very beautiful?” she asked.
“Indeed you are,” said Evil Thought. “This year’s Islander’s fashion fair is yours for the taking, Haughty. Just get your pretty pre-teen-like face prettified-ready for the contest and you shall win it.”

good morning sammy.
I dey follow u bumper to bumper, ride on but diss ur last update is too short nah

Michaellegend: good morning sammy.
I dey follow u bumper to bumper, ride on but diss ur last update is too short nah

but u nor talk about d one wey long nah!!!

How u dey?

Story Continuation...


“Hmm…I’m glad you came,” she said with smiles. “Please, Wishy-Washy, Daydream, come over and speak to me so you could take me to the beach in the dreamland of adventure when the speeches from your beaks reach the peak in my brain.” She shut her eyes. Wishy-Washy stepped to her side and began to say, “How I wish you could make your jumpy skirt of dirt more jumpy for Mr. Backhander to notice your lumpy laps and cast his lusty eyes at you, then he would not stop at anything to jump at you in his clumpy shoes and choose you amidst many and cast his love on you, never to dump you later. How I wish you could be the only IC in this land fit to marry an SC today, then you would have many SCs at hand to tarry at your feet and serve you tomorrow. How I wish you could slyly charm Mr. Backhander to love you and fly you in his fast Helicopter plying the air, then it would imply that he wouldn’t harm you and cast you into hell’s gutter tomorrow…”
Mr. Backhander tangoed with Haughty in a ball close to a waterfall. Everyone halted to stare at them, for they had not seen an IC in a fanciful dance with an SC before. It was totally strange to them. They watched on until Mr. Backhander had asked, “My dear Haughty, will you marry me?”
“Impossible,” said Haughty. “Can you pay my priceless bride price called the Price of Pride and ride me into the moon for Honeymoon to lick honey thereafter?”
“Mention the price and I’ll pay, my dear,” said Backhander. “In fact, I can buy the whole Island for you.”
“You will marry me as a husband while you rigmarole to perform the rigorous role of a wife. I shall be Mr. Haughty while you shall be Mrs. Backhander. Do you agree?”
“Yes my love,” said Mr. Backhander. “My dear Haughty, you are like the peacocks on land whose bright feathers beamed light in darkness. You are like the herringbones in the seas we see over here and the seas overseas, which see all things and oversee the affairs of all fishes: You are like the eagle in the air, the king of all birds, having the swiftest motion and sharpest sight: your eyes, lashes, nose, nostrils, face, forehead, lips, teeth, cheeks, dimples, hair, ears, neck, traceries, having the lead, nose rings, whiteface, perfume, paints, gold, rogue, wig, earrings, red powder, all on your head, are enough to qualify you as the head of this family. In fact I can die for you.”
“Don’t die for me. If you die shall I now marry a dead body? Stay alive and fly me round the world.” They both mounted the Helicopter of Hell passing through the Helliway…
She was eerily jolted out of her reverie by a force that had just pulled her. She opened her eyes and found Villain and Accessory standing there.

Sammy Hoe:

but u nor talk about d one wey long nah!!!

How u dey?

I'm good just lyk always

“What are you looking for?” she shouted at them fearlessly.
“Where is the old-fashioned young lady here?” they asked her.
“How dare you ask me such silly question?” she screamed at them. “Don’t you know my name? I’m Haughty and I can hurt anyone standing on my way.”
Villain was angered. He stepped forward and slapped Haughty on the face. She fell.
“Where is the bag?” Villain screamed.
Suddenly, Haughty sprang up and returned the slap. It landed on Villain’s face with a heavy thud. Villain was extremely annoyed. He hit Haughty hard and kicked her severely until she could no more lift a finger. Then he produced the Dagger of Anger with the aim of striking her dead at once, but Accessory pleaded on her behalf.
“Villain, let’s take her away instead, perhaps she will speak to us in the Helicopter of Hell of Mr. Backhander.”
“Take me there,” she spoke suddenly.

CHAPTER ELEVEN
When Haughty saw Mr. Backhander, she was overjoyed. She smacked her painted lips before the angry man and painted her long nails, digging her fingers into her big wig like a celebrated bigwig every now and then to get it into shape, yet she looked just like an ape before the man.
“Won’t you consider me, Backhander? Haughty the son of Pride is my name,” she voiced out at last.
“Who are you to worth my consideration? An ugly IC like you!” Mr. Backhander shouted at her. “Tell me where that old-fashioned lady is hiding before something worse happens to you.”
“I won’t tell you until you marry me and carry me into the moon for honeymoon and tarry with me to lick honey with me there, splashing all your money on me, or else I will lash out at you because of our clash of interests and make you gnash your teeth and dash away in the end.”
“Abomination!” Mr. Backhander screamed. “Accessory, take this mad dadless girl into the Helicopter of Hell for me. She’ll confess when she sees hell there.” Mr. Backhander spoke as if he knew that Haughty’s father was no more.
“Take me there,” she said. “I have dreamt about it before.” She was glad.
Mr. Just had lost consciousness. He had lost much blood and the chance of survival was now negligible. Mr. Backhander honoured his words by flying his preys in the Helicopter of Hell. Mr. Just and Haughty were left at the back of the Helicopter without having any belt to fasten to their bodies, but the rest of them had fastened their seat belts. Mr. Deceptionist was in the Helicopter, as well as Accomplice and Accessory. Villain had been instructed to remain in the Island of Greatness and monitor Hope, just as Accessory had suggested earlier. Villain had vowed to do anything to get the bag from Hope or from anybody else who would help him bear the bag. He had a cuboid of conversation with him, through which he would communicate either his success or his failure to them. The Helicopter would swirl dangerously in the air throughout the night to worsen the plights of the preys who were having no belts around their bodies. If Villain would communicate good news, then they would return to the Island, but if otherwise, they would all fly away after casting Mr. Just down from the Helicopter.
The case was to be heard. Mr. Justice had taken his seat on his chair. Villain was hanging around to watch how Hope would come around. Mr. Advocate was also seated, as well as Mr. Antagonist. Mr. Justice noticed that the accusers of Hope were not around, therefore he asked, “Mr. Antagonist, where are your witnesses?”
“Mr. Backhander took them out on an official assignment in a Helicopter,” said Mr. Antagonist.
“Alright,” said Mr. Justice.
“Mr. Advocate, do you have anything to say before his judgment?”
“Well…I just want to call out these two people, Mrs. Confidant and Miss Humility. They have something crucial to present.”
As Villain heard that, he was at alert. He quickly whispered into his cuboid of conversation, “Mr. Backhander sir, I’ve seen the bag and I’m getting prepared to snatch it now. If you don’t hear from me in five minutes, then I didn’t succeed. As the two female witnesses rose to their feet, Villain spotted the bag with them. Without hesitating, he sprang to action and rushed at them. In a jiff, he had escaped with the bag.
“What is happening?” Mr. Justice was confounded.
“That’s the bag of credentials owned by Hope,” said Mr. Advocate. That anonymous man now has it!” Mr. Advocate lamented. Hope bowed his head and felt that all hope had been lost.
“What is the proof!” Mr. Justice asked and the court was still…