Prologue



"Dammit!" He cursed as he drove carelessly through the ever busy road. The driver was obviously late for something or trying to get away from something. He looks haunted, chased, pissed I must add.

His phones has been peeping for the last one hour, calls from his mum, sister, frank his best friend but never a call from her, ANNA. Her silence haunts him because she hasn't been the quiet type. Never has, never will, so why start now?

He tried calling her but something keeps stopping him, if she hasn't reached out, then she really doesn't care. He just reacted to the situation at the time, but now he wish He can take it all back.

Let me call her, he thought to himself as he reached out to his phone and punched in the digits he knew so well, "its ringing". He smiled hopeful that she will answer, he doesn't know what to say to her if she picks but he wants to hear her voice.


Let me try again, he thought to himself as he took his eyes off the road and when he looked up, he had crashed into another car, as he slipped into unconsciousness, he could remember himself saying, "she doesn't deserve what I did"

Com and kwontinu

I hope that's not all?

What happened..

wose cum and kountinue dis Tory oh....

U don't want to kwontinu ba

Hey guys. Update will be every sunday. Can't do it within the week because of work commitments.


Kind regards

Harmonyemerald:
Hey guys. Update will be every sunday. Can't do it within the week because of work commitments.


Kind regards

OK o..waiting patiently

Episode 1



Anna was a third year student of University of Nigeria, Nsukka, the prestigious nigeria university her father had gone to. Even though she grew up in canada, her dad had insisted all his kids did their tertiary schooling in nigeria, that way they can mingle with their fellow nigerians, get a taste of the Nigerian society, meet a Nigerian guy that understands his background and culture. He doesn't want any of his kids getting married to a white.


Hello, guys am ANNA, this is my story, my diary, my life, my world. I wanted the narrator to tell my story but noone can tell my story better than me. I will tell my own part of the story, while the narrator or any other person can tell the story of others in my world.


Now a little history about me, shall we?

While I was still a child, my mama used to say I was a tomboy, I will ride my brother's bicycle, play soccer with the guys, I never went for any sleep overs, or maybe I wasn't invited for any, who cares, I was busy living in my perfect little world.


My parents came to canada when I was 5 and my brother was 13, I was their baby girl, though rebellious at a tender age, they still loved me nonetheless.


I don't really remember much about growing up, but I know I was very happy. And when it was time for me to be shipped to nigeria to study Medicine, I was glad. Gosh I missed Nigeria.


My first two years in nigeria was crazy fun, I met some great friends lisa and Hauwa. Lisa was a yoruba girl from Osun state, Hauwa was a Moslem girl from Kaduna, and am from imo state, owerri babe and together, we were called the tripod. I was still the tomboy, crazy wild child with jeans and sneakers always, my hair always in a ponytail. I loved my life. I was doing great academically. Everything was perfect, until the day I met him


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It was my roommate's 21st birthday and her on and off boyfriend who happened to be on at that moment flew in from calabar to surprise her with a birthday.

I was dominating an argument about who our next president should be, whether it should be Buhari or GEJ, I am never really a fan of either of them but out of the two, I rather just have Buhari lead us for a change. During my introduction, I forgot to add that I have been obsessed with nigerian government system since I could remember. Mom always said I was supposed to be a boy but God changed his mind the last minute and decided to make me a girl.


Back to the present, it was a pool party with yellow and white color them but trust me not to comply, I was with some group of people trying to convince them why they should vote for buhari, I hadn't seen him walk in, I was busy talking, arguing, trying to keep my voice from being drown by the loud music from the speakers.

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Ever since Austin has been a kid, it was as if his life has been planned for him, he was supposed to grow up, join the navy, then go abroad for his masters, come back and take over his fathers business. He has fulfilled all those, he just got back from UK two weeks ago and his friend Dave has invited him to calabar for the weekend, but instead of relaxing at a cool bar in calabar and catching up on good old days, his buddy has dragged him to Nsukka, Enugu state to throw a birthday party for his girlfriend.


He is actually surprised at his friend because Dave is a chronic player who doesn't believe in spending on a woman. What was that he always say? "throw in a handsome man with a little bit of charm, ladies will go crazy", and that has always worked for him. So why was he spending for much on this particular girl when he has women at his beck and call back in calabar? He wondered.


He was so over this party, he would have stayed back in Lagos, instead of coming down here to watch a bunch of under-graduates dance and drink and puke. Why do people do that anyways? Drink so much that they puke.

"This party looks kind of lame" He thought to himself before he saw her.

"She is on jeans with sneakers" was his first thought. Who wears those to a pool party and her outfit was definitely not yellow or anyway close to white. Most ladies were on bikini and shorts and were busy drinking and dancing but she was just there standing opposite him, having arguments about politics. Now that was something he didn't expect.


As he walked closer, he noticed her hair, long, black, shiny, he could bet that it was natural, he could imagine running his fingers all over her hair, scattering the ponytail, breathing in the scent of her hair, it must be lavender with mints, he thought to himself.

"Wake up mehn", he muttered as he approached her group, her back still turned against him.


"So my dear, GEJ has had 6 solid years and what has he done for the masses? Nothing. He is a good man, no doubt but he is just not man enough to be the president". He heard her saying as he finally reached the group, nice accent she got, probably not a nigeria, he concluded as he took the last step closing the distance between them.


At that moment she turned to look at the intrusion to her own private party, but he didn't even give her a chance before he attacked her.


"I can't help but hear you judge a man who has stepped up when nigeria was lost to guide us through a dark path, GEJ is man enough to lead, maybe you are just not woman enough to see it, no offence.", he added with a chuckle.


She raised her brow to absorb the shock but attacking back.


"I beg your pardon? A man who can't sustain the economy, exchange rate is high, oil price is dropping and yet he can't re-diversify the economy yet". She fought back. She isn't one to back down from fight especially not when it involved a stranger who wants to insult her brains and embarrass her in public. Where has he come from anyways and who the hell is he? And why does he keep looking at me like that when he is talking? He looks at me with this intensity I couldn't explain.


Well, we argued for about 45mins non stop before we realized that we were alone. Every other person must have left during our back and forth and we were too busy to notice.


"Well, am Austin", he said ten minutes later after we stopped argument.


I nodded and continued nodding my head to the song that was playing.


He tilted his ears as a clue for my name and almost immediately justin Beiber's "SORRY" came on.


"That's my song". I shouted.

"Come on let's dance". I said as I dragged him off to the dance floor.


#don't be surprised, told you guys I was a wild child, a tomboy with no absolute care#

NYC update dear

Harmonyemerald:
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Happy birthday my birthmate




THE CHURCH ACCOUNTANT PART 1 TO 3