These are short stories that portray everyday life.

.okay to spice this new month, let me tell you a story Before modernization, Three brothers left Lagos and entered Black Town. The whole place was full of bushes till they got to a path that divided into three other paths.They decided to take a path each. The first went to the place called the future, the second went to the place called the past. The last went to the present. When the first got to the past the townsmen loaded him with loads of lessons and sorrow. He couldn't stop being depressed even as he sought for a better land. He moved till he got to the present by the time it was too late to enjoy anything the people could offer because he was too sad and tired to enjoy the present. He promised to go there to cry with them again. While he was wallowing in the past, the second person who went to future returned, excited about what he saw though he was afraid of the trouble One would face before getting there. So he too embedded on his fear couldn't enjoy the present. However, the one who went to the present enjoyed the day and decided to do that the next day. With what had been described about the future one needed Orisha Nla to go smoothly so why the fear? Learn your lessons Akintayo Akinjide. www.nigerianwritershub.com

Knockout
Our first year in the Nigeria we rented a small apartment near a Government school nearby taught by many great teachers. My father wanted me to go the school. He believed real education can only be found in a government school.

The teachers were hefty, fat, slim, bald- everything made one teacher distinct from the other.

I liked them alot, especially my grandmotherly primary three teachers, Mrs. Folarin. I had a lovely name, she said, and she had me teach the whole class how to pronounce it. E-ven-lyn. As the only pupil who had ever travelled abroad, I was put in a special seat in the first row by the window, apart from the other children, so that Mrs. Folarin tutor me Yoruba without disturbing others. Slowly, I began to learn new word in Nigeria such as 'culture, traditional, black, Africans.
Soon, I picked up enough English to know that terrorism was thick in the air.

Mrs. Folarin explained to a wide-eyed classroom what was happening in Northern Nigeria. Boko Haram were blowing up places and people. She explained that if these people were not caught we would have what she called Insurgence.

At home, we were exposed to the sound of these bombs through media. I heard new vocabulary: Bomb, Explosion, Bokoharam.
Mrs. Folarin explained how it happened. She drew a house and later made white flurry of chalk marks to show it being on fire. She advised us not to allow religion lead us in killing human. She admonished us that fighting for religion was bad.

The months grew cold, November, December. It was dark when I got up in the morning, frosty when I followed my breath to school.

One morning, as I sat at my desk daydreaming out the window. Something loud exploded from outside the school just like the sound we heard on the media.
I shrieked, ' Bomb, Bomb!'
Mrs. Folarin jerked around, her big skirt ballooning as she hurried to my side. A few pupils began to cry.
But then Mrs. Folarin's shock look faded as another sound rocked the air.
' Why, Evelyn dear, that's banger. Celebration is in the air!' She laughed.' Knockout'.

' Knockout', I repeated. I looked out the window warily. All my life I had heard about the sound of Bomb.
After school I stalled at the stall of some women, admiring the knockouts as my friends showed them to me. Each one sparked desire to rejoice in me. And I looked at my one of my friends. I touched her arm when I saw the fearful look on her face. I told her my new vocabulary. ' It's only Knockout. It's not a bomb'.

Dedicated to everyone in the north, who live in fear.

Crayfish Jimi knocked Lola's door.And waited patiently. He blew air severally to strenghten his courage. They had been friends for three years now, and he hadn't tell his mind.
' Yes? Who's there?' ' Jimi..' ' Ah...Crayfish.' She said as she opened the door. And gave him a warm hug. He stood there, with his hands behind him. He had just read a story on Nigerian Writers' Hub. A guy delayed telling his friend how much he loved her, and when he did, he made it look like a surprise. But it failed. He brought out his hand from his back. And held her hands. ' I don't want another seconds to pass...before I tell you how much I love you'. ' You said...'
His eyes darted from her face to the other part of the room. She didn't hear him. That was good. He was making a fool of himself. Maybe, she wanted them to just be friends. Just friends. He would change the topic. Or he could say when they entered the house. ' I said I....' He shook his head. ' I said I love you. I love you with all my heart. I want to spend the rest of my life with you as my love...'
She stared at him. The wind blew past him, and the Harmattan cold tapped the back of his head but he stood still. He had released her hand. She gave him a resounding slap. The force pushed him back. The stories he had read on Nigerian Writers' Hub had always yielded good results. He never knew the result would fall like this. ' Never ever in your life...' She shouted and pointed at him. ' Never ever play such prank on me again.'
He wanted to tell her he was sorry for loving her, he was sorry for telling her his mind about how he felt towards. He knew he had done it foolishly maybe he should have waited more. ' I'm not playing prank on you', he said as he held his face. The pain of the slap, mixed with the dryness of the harmattan season made him stick his hand to that part of his face.
' I really love you...I'm not playing prank.' Nigerian Writer's Hub had pushed him to do what he didn't plan but he must now show her his confidence. Afterall, it was confidence that helped Ebuka pass his last question in the interview question by Akintayo Akinjide. ' Shut up! Shut up!! Why did you keep me waiting for so long? I had planned that anybody that tells me his mind will be my BF because it seemed you didn't love me'.
Just then, a whatsapp message entered her phone. She looked down at it, smiled, looked at Jimi and hugged him.' God saved you. I would have kill you for losing me to another man'. She passed the phone to him. It was a message from a guy, Kay. ' Lola, I love you as I have told you before. I really love you.'

Flowers


Paula smiled at the stupidity of her Aunt and moved to the other part of the parlour. She just wanted to escape before the fair, overripe, rich guy made another advance towards her. If he did any foolish thing again, she would spill her thoughts – which was terrible. She was glad Biyi was coming. Her Sunday would have been a hell. ‘ Paula’, her sister said, making her turn hurriedly.’ Bro. Biyi is outside’. ‘Oh.’ She said and a big smile laced her face. Her valentine would make sense. Biyi was full of surprises. The chance had come to escape the pompous fool, and her never-contented Aunt. ‘Paula, will you now leave him here’ ‘Aunty, please don’t let me-‘ she said, hissed and stormed out, banging the door behind her. Her long dark hair flowed behind her, as she ran down the stairs. Her body heaved with happiness. ‘ Biyi.Biyi.’ ‘Hmm’, Biyi said. He rested against his black Toyota Camry. ‘Whoa…’ She shouted as she got to the last step. Not minding the drainage in front of her, she jumped on him. ‘You look so happy to see me’, Biyi said. ‘Yes o. Aunty Kenny wants me to start a relationship with Daddy’s friend’s son. They were like, “you are growing old” that I’m a flower. What’s their concern?’ ‘Good’, Biyi said, sounding depressed. ‘Good?’ ‘I wasn’t talking- See-‘ Biyi said and stood straight. He held her cheeks. She looked up at him. He was taller than she was. His trimmed beard made her heart lurch for more of him. ‘I think we’ve got to break up’. Everything went silent. Paula stared at him, and widened her eyes. Her hearing and other senses focused on Biyi. ‘What? Why? What did I do wrong?’ ‘It’s not you. It’s not you. It’s just that’. He hissed, released her face, and turned. ‘I just can’t stand you being my girlfriend anymore’. Her eyes felt as though sands were in them. Her heartbeat suddenly began to increase tempo. And her body became hotter than before. ‘What did I do?’ She asked, tears flowing down her face. She moved toward him, held his cloth and her breath. ‘It’s not what you’ve done…’ He said, turning,’ It is what you’ve not done. I don’t want you to be my girlfriend anymore’. He went down on his knee. Her mouth remained opened. Her face was transfixed, not on his face, not on his kneeling position. Rather, her eyes were fixed on his hand. It contained a case and in it was a proposal ring. ‘Will you break up with me as a girlfriend and be my wife?’ The jewel on the ring shone. And she nodded. She nodded again. And she nodded severally. ‘Yes…Yes…You idiot…Yes…’ Tears flowed down her face as she went to hug him. She got the best Valentine gift ever.

Flowers


Paula smiled at the stupidity of her Aunt and moved to the other part of the parlour. She just wanted to escape before the fair, overripe, rich guy made another advance towards her. If he did any foolish thing again, she would spill her thoughts – which was terrible. She was glad Biyi was coming. Her Sunday would have been a hell.
‘ Paula’, her sister said, making her turn hurriedly.’ Bro. Biyi is outside’. ‘Oh.’ She said and a big smile laced her face. Her valentine would make sense. Biyi was full of surprises.
The chance had come to escape the pompous fool, and her never-contented Aunt. ‘Paula, will you now leave him here’ ‘Aunty, please don’t let me-‘ she said, hissed and stormed out, banging the door behind her. Her long dark hair flowed behind her, as she ran down the stairs. Her body heaved with happiness. ‘ Biyi.Biyi.’
‘Hmm’, Biyi said. He rested against his black Toyota Camry. ‘Whoa…’ She shouted as she got to the last step. Not minding the drainage in front of her, she jumped on him. ‘You look so happy to see me’, Biyi said. ‘Yes o. Aunty Kenny wants me to start a relationship with Daddy’s friend’s son. They were like, “you are growing old” that I’m a flower. What’s their concern?’
‘Good’, Biyi said, sounding depressed. ‘Good?’ ‘I wasn’t talking- See-‘ Biyi said and stood straight. He held her cheeks. She looked up at him. He was taller than she was. His trimmed beard made her heart lurch for more of him.
‘I think we’ve got to break up’. Everything went silent. Paula stared at him, and widened her eyes. Her hearing and other senses focused on Biyi.
‘What? Why? What did I do wrong?’ ‘It’s not you. It’s not you. It’s just that’. He hissed, released her face, and turned. ‘I just can’t stand you being my girlfriend anymore’.
Her eyes felt as though sands were in them. Her heartbeat suddenly began to increase tempo. And her body became hotter than before. ‘What did I do?’ She asked, tears flowing down her face. She moved toward him, held his cloth and her breath.
‘It’s not what you’ve done…’ He said, turning,’ It is what you’ve not done. I don’t want you to be my girlfriend anymore’. He went down on his knee. Her mouth remained opened. Her face was transfixed, not on his face, not on his kneeling position. Rather, her eyes were fixed on his hand. It contained a case and in it was a proposal ring.
‘Will you break up with me as a girlfriend and be my wife?’ The jewel on the ring shone. And she nodded. She nodded again. And she nodded severally. ‘Yes…Yes…You idiot…Yes…’
Tears flowed down her face as she went to hug him. She got the best Valentine gift ever.

FriendZoned
Serenity. Cool music. He was right.
There was no better place. John sat at the table and waited. He wanted it to be the best thing he would do. He had never being so agitated. He checked his wristwatch and shifted again. Cold air blasted into his pores from the rectangular Air conditioner at his right. A waiter came to him and desired to know if he would like to buy anything.

‘Give me Malta Guinness’. He said. Normally, he wouldn’t take Malta Guinness. But it was her favourite. He would do anything to see her happy. He would do anything to make her always be the love of his life.
After he and Shola became friends, he had been harbouring the thought of telling her how he felt about her. But, he decided to wait until the bond of their friendship was solid.

John hoped she would really be surprised, just as he had imagined all year. The plan had been simple and because of its simplicity, she fell for the first part.
He checked the time again. She was ten minute late. He shifted. The music in the background seemed to talk to him.

I dreamt of you and never wanted to stop.
I saw your face and wished it would remain the only image in my brain.
I am obsessed.
I am possessed.
No regrets.
Just be mine.

She entered. His heart flipped.

She wore a red flora gown. The edge of the cloth kissed her knee and the sight of this made his blood become warmer. He had been seeing her as a friend for years. But today, he couldn’t wish for any other woman. Her long dark hair outlined her fair complexion. He swallowed. His heart pound hard again his chest. Light glowed around her.
‘Am I late?’ Shola said as she sat opposite him. He smiled. The plan was working.
He shook his head, raised his eyebrow, and said.’ Of course, you are ten minutes late’.

‘I’m sorry joor… at least, I got here before her’, she said as she brought a small mirror from her bag and patted her hair into a shape she desired, the way he loved it.
‘How do I look?’
‘Perfect. Just as I like it . Just as she would like it’.
She blushed.’ Leave me joor…’

He told her he wanted her to witness when he would be proposing to his girlfriend since she was his best friend. Although, when he told her, he expected to see disappointment or jealousy in her eyes. He saw none of such. She was his best friend, and everyone knew that. In fact, they thought the two of them were dating.

And when he told anybody he was not dating her, they thought he was pretending. The only person aside her who knew John wasn’t dating her was his friend, Wale.
‘I hope she’s beautiful. This one that you did not tell me, your best friend, who you were dating until you wanted to propose marriage to her’. She said and glared at him. ‘If she’s not beautiful, I’ll send her back’.
‘She would be here soon’. He said, smiling. He had planned it well. Her seat was backing the door.
‘Oh! There she comes’, he said and she turned. He hurriedly removed the case from his pocket, went on his knee, and opened the case.

‘There is-‘, Shola said as she turned towards him. She stared at him. Her eyes dashed from his face to the case and back to the face again.
‘Will you marry me, Shola? I don’t want us to practice boyfriend/ girlfriend era anymore.’
She stared at him. her eyes became wider. She inhaled a long breathe and whimpered. He smiled. She loved him and was happy.

‘You shouldn’t have deceived me’, she said. Tears dropped from her eyes and her eyes were now fixed on the ground.’ I love you… But you told me you wanted to propose to someone else’.
He nodded. ‘Is that a yes?’
‘After you….’ She said and hissed. She closed her eyes. Something was wrong. He watched her closely as she opened and closed her mouth severally.

‘Wale had proposed to me and I told him to I’ll give him a reply later’.
‘Wale? Did he not know we were in a relationship? Why didn’t you tell him?’
‘Why didn’t you tell him, at least, that you love me…?’
‘He knew…’
‘He didn’t-‘
‘Did you give him a reply’?

Tears streamed down her face. She stared at him and held his hand. His heart was burning. He swallowed hard as his body became numb and he wished the news would change.

‘When you told me you’ve found a lady and that you were going to propose to her today. I felt there wasn’t any need to wait for you any longer. So-‘
Hot liquid substance flowed across his face but he was not concerned. He wanted to know what happened.

‘I told him, yes, yesterday. You should have told me plainly. You know I am not good with…’ She said and burst into tears. She carried her bag and rushed out of the restaurant, leaving him on his knee. He stared into space as the music in the background came in.

And I …will always love you...

A Minute Information
Rachael trudged on the street with the hope she would see a place to charge the battery of her phone. The darkness of the area mixed with the cold made everything look eerie.

Rachael kept trekking the dusty street, knowing that she would see a place to charge her phone despite being five streets away from home. The fuel scarcity has affected everyone; even service providers had gone off-line. Five days ago, T.V stations and Radio station went off-line, compelling people to opt for newspapers; however, Newspapers also stopped publication two days ago.

Just as she was about to give up, she saw it- a house, where generator was providing their electricity. Rachael was so happy that she raced to the place and did not stop until she ran into a hefty man.
‘Bros, no vex…’
He grunted.
‘Abeg I fit see place charge phone’.
‘Yes…yes…’

The guy led her to a place in the house, which, when Rachael got to, made her almost run back: many people were there, charging their gadgets; many of them were pressing them even while charging them.
Rachael rushed to plug her phone. She knew every minute count.

‘Sister, you don shake my phone’, someone called.
‘I’ll do it’, she replied.
Rachael was so hungry for information- she needed to know what was happening within the country. She needed entertainment also. Her body tingled when the phone came on, and licked her lower lips when she logged into her blog.

At first, she did not want to write anything but felt people needed information too, so she wrote ‘How’s is it going in your area?’

She felt the need not to write more, so she posted it and she surfed other sites for news. Religious people were already on their knee, especially the Christians who believed this was greatest sign of end time they’ve seen.

Great minds have been questioning the president, Jeremiah Pete, who had been trying to decipher the reason behind this problem.

Just then, she began to receive answers to her question. Rachael hurriedly read people’s answers, just to satisfy her deep hunger for information, and to read the way people would use languages to analyse this problem.

She was enjoying it until she saw one that made muffle a cry.
“I was robbed of my laptop in a house we went to charge. Some of the guys with whom we were charging phones together stuck guns into our back, and asked us to drop our things”.

She replied
‘Where is your place?
And waited agitatedly for his reply, with fear he would not reply that night again.

A big house at Ajede Street at Abesan in Lagos.
Oh God! That was where she was.

She stylishly picked her phone and knew that the best thing she could do was to run, and run she did, pushing past the hefty man, and didn’t stop until she got home.

‘Sister’, someone called from behind her as she stopped.
She turned to see a lanky man panting heavily.
‘I was there also…’

First Taste of Death


The sun peeked and she also peeked. Everywhere was beautiful. She got out- rather, she was pushed out.She didn't know where she was but it was beautiful.
She looked morosely.
' Ah.. Out of two hundred billion, I made it. I'm not a nonentity.'
But instead of her words to come vividly. It was a sweet ear-piercing noise that emanated from her mouth. She was infuriated. That was not her wish, and now she would make a fun of herself in front of this tall things that looked like her. They smiled. She spoke but only a cry came out of her mouth. The noise made the people smile at the woman whose hole was the portal of passage.
A long thing said,' Congratulations, it's a baby girl'.
Her mother said something. They took her nearer, she kissed her, closed her eyes and she never opened it again.
Dedicated to every person that lost their parent(s) at one time or the other, you are somebody.