fikfaknuel:
I want to give a heartfelt thank you, and shout out to ruggedadventure and yorhmienerd.

These guys have really been great

You're welcome

fikfaknuel:
I want to give a heartfelt thank you, and shout out to ruggedadventure and yorhmienerd.

These guys have really been great

U're welcome bro... more grease to ur elbow... more ink to ur pen. Keep it up bro

fikfaknuel:


Lolzzz, my guy...Dis week has been really stressful, you know sey Nigeria wahala fit make person kill himself. Not me, sha.

Updates above

lolz.....abeg no die ooo...not yet.

bibijay123:
Weldone boss! More ink to ur pen

Me no be boss oo...Bibi. Email me your facebook user, make we chat.

fikfaknuel:
Me no be boss oo...Bibi. Email me your facebook user, make we chat.

Bibi Jasmine

fikfaknuel:
Me no be boss oo...Bibi. Email me your facebook user, make we chat.

Mail me urs 2

lol. Okay carry go

fikfaknuel:

Sleemon d mentioner, SlimHan the mentionee. You both are welcome. Feel free to call others here.

Suliyat rushed to where the woman was in frantic steps, fighting her way through the others who stood, looking at the accused with awe, making faces synonymous with Nigeria, clapping their hands in disbelief, others covering their mouths, exhibiting almost the same reaction. The young journalist wasn't your 'typical journalist'. She didn't see every thing as a potential screamer headline for the papers. She didn't force news through people's mouth. Inspite of her proffesion, she still remained a human being so it was quite disgusting to see that these people had already proclaimed someone guilty, when a court of law hadn't. It was gross incompetence at the highest order.

John rounded the fat woman who made the claim, and together with the little boy, the journalist, the very thin lady, they exited the scene, and made for somewhere more secluded. Whilst they walked together, eyes escorted their steps.

They stopped when they got to Swamp street, it was just as the name implies, and unlike many parts of Ajegunle, it was quiet.

"Do you know who I am?" Suliyat asked the thin lady, reaching for something in her purse, all four of them present couldn't tell what.

The lady whom the question was directed to shook her head, implying 'no'.

John gaped wide, it was simply unbelieveable and outright ridiculous to think that this woman had probably put herself in a compromising position, and she didn't even know who the person who boxed her in was. He wondered if he was ever going to witness an end to ignorance in Ajegunle. He looked down intuitively, as he met the rosy cheeks of the little boy fold slightly, as he grinned. He must be having a very good time. John wanted to send him away but, for some reason, he didn't. His presence had an effect on the lady being questioned. Her fat counterpart didn't seem like she cared, grinding her teeth hard on a gum with recless abandon, making annoying sounds associated to the modus operandi of a call girl seeking male attention.

Bringing out slowly from her little black purse which fitted seamlessly on her left hand was an ID card, on it, was the word emblazioned Suliyat Mohammed, reporter. Alongside it was The Sun's logo, and down below on the far right were the names of the Chief Editor and his signature.

"Ehm, ehm, abeg no report me" the woman begged, after a long stare into the Identification card. John struggled hard to contain the laughter that threatened to erupt from his belly.

"I go talk, I go talk wetin I sabi" the thin woman pleaded

"You better start doing so" John said, preying further on her outrageous ignorance.

"I get shop, wey I dey sell ogogoro. Day before yesterday, some awala boys come buy meshango. I hear one of dem talk say dem wan kill pesin. I no murmur. I just sell my market, close shop. Wetin make dat woman dey coba me na because..."

John's face tightened, Suliyat prepared for the worst, the little boy face was still aglow with a hearty grin.

"She no know say I see when the boys enter her shop"

John rubbed his chin gently, pinching his beards, hoping for a sprout of wisdom. Truth was, he sucked at being a detective. He stumbled on Sherlock Holmes through Emeka Agu, his roomate at the university, who was so into the fictional character that John thought he was a real person.

Suliyat turned to face the fat woman "Maam, with all due respect, we don't want to hear anything less than the truth. What were the suspected killers doing in your shop and what do you sell?"

The initially-tough woman cracked, as she broke down in tears.

Now following

Still here

fikfaknuel:
sleemoon ebukav jumizie13 dominicnuel ashatoda kingdave30 joanee20 spikedawson slimhan daeveed Rex1 prettydock22 favou iamlukas sharonnnn donpoker9 mattkent fiyah ddonoflife herzern rosalieene datjohn starrylady young03 angelsss laddybay TheSociopath gattus amyvals

wat did i miss here guys
tanks 4 the mentions

Nice work you gat here op.you are a very good imaginative and creative writer.although i am in owerri your story took me to the street of ajegunle once again as if am there right now.
I used to hear danfo drivers shout,alaba-boundary agausa...lol.

John assumed his usual demeanour, Suliyat placed a hand over her shoulders, urging her to get a hold of her emotions, the little boy, well, was enjoying the most striking nollywood film of his life. The second suspect in the case, the thin lady, folded her arms into her almost milkless breaast, looking down.
The fat lady, spoke, after wiping the tears off her eye "My name is Ebeyo. The boys-the boys, wh-who" she stuttered, as a tear flowed freely down her eye, John could wrap his brain around the reason why.

"I know one of the boys. I-I-saliu"

"Saliu? That's his name?" John asked, paying much attention to the tone of his voice, to make sure his questions came straight.

"Yes, yes, I sabi hin mama, na wh-na-why"

John was frustrated with this persistent stutters. He wanted to use his 'position' to threaten the woman into speaking more fluently, but Suliyat touched him lightly on the arm, motioning him to exercise patience.

"Continue, madam. How do you know this Saliu?"

"Ehm, ehm, him mama na mericine pesin. I-I-last year, I collect mericine for the woman hand, I gi-give my husband, so he go love me, come dey give me all him money"

Suliyat shifted uncomfortably where they stood due to the prospect of what might be the catalyst here. Some inhabitants of the street were beginning to leave their compounds, looking at the unofficial meeting and eventually minding their businesses. Some stood like programmed owls, waiting patiently to see what unfolds for they knew, this wasn't no jolly gathering.

"You used charms on your husband?"

"Yes" the woman broke into tears again "I just want make him love me"

"How do you know that he didn't love you with his clear eyes?" John asked

"He been dey fvck that bastard winch!" Ebeyo raged, pointing at the thin woman whose head sunk deeper down in shame, as if affirming the accusation. She didn't protest, and silence actually, screamed "I did it!"

"Oh, I see, a bermuda triangle of love" John remarked cheekily, walking in clock-wise steps round them.

Suliyat sighed. This was too much. Too deep rooted.

"I would have liked to meet this very, 'charming' man" John played a pun, as he ceaselessly scrathed his chin lightly "But, time is not our best friend, or is he?" He looked at Suliyat, who was taken aback by his sudden intense stare, she wondered why John had a very ravaging interest in this.

She turned to the fat woman, Ebeyo, and said "Madam, you'll take us to Saliu's house, and you" she turned over to the slimmer woman, who had the distinct features of a starved lizard. Suliyat told her likewise "you are coming with us".

John looked down to the little boy, who was proudly showcasing the five and a half-teeth which stood apart inside his mouth.

"Oya dey go. Take this money, buy biscuit" John dipped his hand into his pocket and brought out a naira note which belonged to the lower denominations, stretching his hand forth, as the boy received the note.

"Ese oo, bros!" the boy hailed, running away, as his big head led him, his leg followed, disturbing the peace of sand lying on the ground, as dust, escorted his trail.

"Good riddance" Suilyat remarked, after a relieved sigh.

Nawa ooo, some women are shame less adultery has no second name anyway. John should just take it easy before he sees the bitter side of AJ city keep it coming... Thumbs up.

Kwontinue

Come and update oooo

Ur story is da bomb bro ....... u gat d pic scenario of AJ so well ..... Buh I believe AJ has changed a lot ,....... besides I stay in AJ ....... MBA street to b precise

jeff1993:
Ur story is da bomb bro ....... u gat d pic scenario of AJ so well ..... Buh I believe AJ has changed a lot ,....... besides I stay in AJ ....... MBA street to b precise

Wow. Mba street near that police station? Wey dey around Boundary side. I de pass there well well if I wan go buy fish.

Yea. AJ has truly changed, this story is set in the early 2000s, aftermath the infamous Ilaje-Ijaw crises.

fikfaknuel:


Wow. Mba street near that police station? Wey dey around Boundary side. I de pass there well well if I wan go buy fish.

Yea. AJ has truly changed, this story is set in the early 2000s, aftermath the infamous Ilaje-Ijaw crises.

...... Hahaha ...... yea u are right .... long live A.J

FxHouse:
In my opinion, your story is cool, but in the name of comments and recognition, you delay updates, and even when you choose to update, your updates are so little and ends up like a waste of time. Serve the story hot, do not kill the vibe, give them stuffs to comment about...I have been following, but severally I have been tempted to hit the unfollow button. A matured writer would not write for comments and likes, but would write professionally, ignoring the urge and desperation for comments and likes, these (comments and likes) would come with your quality and professional writing. Its like counting stars while losing focus on the moon. Its like seeking all other things and waiting for the kingdom of God to be added unto you, its like being pennywise and pound foolish. Make your updates frequent, consistent and lengthy, make it worth the short wait and make it worth being read.

Cheers!

Why u no write ur own

John scurried over to the back of the three women, not that he wanted to get a glimpse of their back sides. The fat one, Ebeyo, was simply, too fat, the thin one, John didn't know her name, was too feeble, that even looking at her buttocks with perverse thoughts might crush the bones. Suliyat wore a skirt which totally hid all the features that John would have licked his lips at.

However, he didn't walk from the back because of that. He did so because he wanted to observe the reaction and actions of both women who certainly had bad blood between them.

They all approached Suliyat's car, parked opposite the one storey building. The sun was beginning to portray its characteristic wickedness, as it hit its hot rays on the skins of everyone who dared walk under it. Suliyat couldn't wait to get into her car, as she walked hurriedly.

She got into the driver's seat, and beckoned all of them to enter. The two women at first, standing by the car, displayed a reluctance to enter. They thought that this reporter was taking them to somewhere else, a place that they would be punished.

"Enter the car!" Suliyat ordered from inside, putting her head out from the window, looking at the faces of the women. Worry and fear. The fear of the unknown, was clearly written on their faces. John stood patiently behind them, not uttering any thing that resembled a valid word. He was working his head through this, the charmed love triangle. He looked at his watch, it was 2.09pm. Time wasn't any responsible person's friend.

He hissed, irritated at the drastic action he knew these women had forced him to take. He shoved the women, their mouths almost hit the car, for they were totally unprepared for that. Suliyat's jaw dropped in surprise. What kind of a man would lay hands on a woman in such manner?. John saw the dissapointment on her face. He was ashamed, but he didn't show it.

Surprsingly, both the women put on humbled looks, and entered the car slowly, no one wanting to touch the other. Suliyat sighed, this just made her remember a project she embarked on while in the higher institution. She gathered that African women were indirectly the cause for marital abuse as their actions and inactions force men into laying hands on them, and when that happens, a calming effect, and they behave normal. This theory was rejected by one of her lecturers, who insisted, that rather, it must be told, that the mentality of women, who perceived men as 'superior', willingly submit their bodies to kicks and blows. They had been taught that your husband paid your brideprice and therefore, you are to serve him before even tasting the food for excess salt. But when the food eventually is salty, you will eat it alone, after being served the usual beating, of course.

Inside the car, the sitting formation was pre-planned in John's mind. He allowed Ebeyo sit beside Suliyat, whilst the thin lady sat at the back, with him.

"Which street does the Saliu stay?" Suliyat asked in an 'officely' tone, a question directed to no one in particular, it was one of those questions tagged 'to whom it may concern'.

"Rorobi" someone inside the car replied.

The road was bumpy, as all inside the car bounced awkwardly, the thin lady's body hit John's arm, and she looked at him.

"Direct me oo" Suliyat requested of the women, who were more acquainted with their destination.

For about twenty minutes, of intelligent driving, lanky conductors hurling curses towards Suliyat, being stuck in a light hold-up caused by an accident involving a hawker who refused to stand up, conditioning that all his goods must be bought. John coming out of the car to control traffic, and following confusing directions from the physically polarizing women, Suliyat was relieved when she heard

"We dun reach"

Alaye..... kontinu

ruggedadventure:
Alaye..... kontinu

RgdBroda I see u

Present

Ohibenemma go sleep. Na we dey hia, na we get am

Good werk fikfaknuel.......
But abeg come put garri to my beans oooo

CHAPTER NINE
The car screeched, coming to an halt, as everybody inside came out. Both suspect women, shielded their faces with their hands, as if protecting their eyes from the sun. They knew however, that they did so because of their collective shame, not wanting to be recognized by people in the street. It would be so much of a matter-for them to be seen with such people of affluence. Ajegunlites were wary of such inquiring personalities ever since their hub was infiltrated with corporate compainies, media houses, and private investigators aftermath the Ilaje/Ijaw crises.

Suliyat inquired from the fat woman where the house was, and she pointed a blue painted house just opposite where they stood. It was built shabilly and it shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone who heard that it fell like the walls of Jericho when a strong wind blew.

It took quite some time to cross over, as motorcycles flew past the shallow street recklessly.

They got to the gate of the house, whose color was gradually pulling off. John knocked twice, keeping an eye of the women still. If they were to become innovative and take to their heels, it would be an almost impossible task to catch them.

Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.

There was no answer, as John kept up hitting the hard gate with his knuckles. He peeped inside, and the limited place he could see, no one was in sight, except for a bucket. The house seemed to be empty. John hit the gate in obvious frustration, still hoping that this last time, some kind of human being would approach and listen to what they have to say.
No one did.

They all turned back, defeated. John could see relief on the face of the fat woman, Ebeyo. Just as their necks were turning, seeking to cross back to where Suliyat's car was, they heard a voice from behind.

"Na who una dey find?" they all turned, and upon turning, met a pair of inquisitive eyes. A middle-aged woman. No one knew where she crept from.

"Sorry maam, who are you?" Suliyat asked the person, who wore a long, native dress, that would have swept the ground when she walked.

The woman hissed, and turn back, and was walking away, in steady steps.

"Wait!" John called. She stopped, as although John's tongue was an in-built remote. She however, didn't turn to face them. Both Suliyat and John wondered what was the reason for this strangeness.

"We are looking for Saliu" Suliyat said, hoping that the woman would respond with some enormous information. She acted earlier like an all-knowing person.

"Hmmm" turning slowly, she shook her head pitifully, as she sighed, saying "I don't know where he is. But, another might do". Putting her hands into her breast region, she brought out a tiny key, and stretched her hand forward, gesticulating someone to take it.

John went forward and opened his hands, as the woman dropped the key into his.

"Use it" she commanded, pointing feebly at the gate. John looked at the key, and wondered what he was to do with it afterwards. As if she read her mind, she said
"Drop the key by the gate if you come out. I'll pick it later"

She flagged down a keke napep, and entered it. Four pair of eyes watched as the tricycle zoomed off.

Standing before the gate with the key, John carefully inserted it into the hole it was supposed to enter. Tightening his hold on it, he turned and turned, until a creaky sound emerged and the gate opened.

"This is the house?" Suliyat asked Ebeyo, who replied in the affirmative.

The thin lady, who came across as a reserved person, and had been quiet all the while, took a very bold step, and walked into the bungalow, which possesed all the characteristics of a haunted house. Add that to the threat of a collapse, and one gets the reason why even the adventurous John, the inquisitive Suliyat, and the dare devil, Ebeyo, didn't enter at first.

Irrespective of their fears, the thin woman was inside, and was yet to die. John suspected either her weight was the cause, or she simply didn't mind her already-degenerated bones being crushed to death.

Lemme start reading

Tgold1:

RgdBroda I see u

Bossman.... I hail thee

John entered the house stealthily, then Ebeyo, as she entered, John's face shifted rather uncomfortably, fearing if her body mass wouldn't bring the building crashing down. Suliyat entered lastly, looking around as she entered. There was nothing that suggested that the house belonged to a 'mericine woman', in the words of Ebeyo. Not yet.

The bucket was the first thing John sought out. He approached it, the ladies behind him. He stretched his neck, and inside the bucket, was blood. John shook, fearing the worst. Could it possibly be, human blood? He turned back, and his reaction was rubbing off on the women.

"What is it?" Suliyat asked, fear evident in her face.

John took some steps backward, coming closer to her "Blood" he said.

"Allahu Akbar" Suliyat exclaimed, John was terribly afraid of the prospect of what they might find inside the house. Suliyat too was, as that was the first time he had ever spoken in Hausa. Looking briefly at Ebeyo and the other lady, he didn't needed to be psychic to tell that a huge cloud of fear was hovering over all of them.

But, they couldn't go back. They were too in it now. The mystery must be unravelled. Ebeyo seeked to take to her heels, but John immediately warned her against so.

"This is Saliu's mother house, you are sure" John asked the question for the second time.

"I be like blind pesin?! Na the house!" Ebeyo raged, seeting in anger.

Suliyat asked "What do you sell sef? We forgot to ask you that"

"Yes" John corroborated

"Ehmmm, I dey sell spoons, plate, knife"

"Utensils, you mean" John suggested

"Anyone" she replied, with a hiss.

"The boys were killed by knife stabs" Suliyat remarked, recalling the details her editor-in-chief filled her in before she set out.

"She probably might have given them to the killers" John accused.

"No ooo" Ebeyo flung her arms to the sky in disagreeance "my armpit clean for dat matter"

The talks suspended for a while, and they went closer to the house, knocking on the front door twice. No reply. John forced it open, and what they saw shocked them to the marrow.

An old-age stricken woman, lying feebly on the ground, her skin had been over-run
by her bones, that they wondered if this wasn't a skeleton. They thought so, until the person coughed dryly. Skeletons didn't cough.

Pity drove into their hearts, and they let their guard down, moving slowly, slowly, getting closer to the woman. Upon closer observation, Ebeyo realized that this was no other than her former employee, Mama Saliu.

"Mama, good evening" she greeted

The aged woman coughed again. Suliyat was worried about this and looked around for anything that seemed like water so she could give some to the woman. Not only were the walls unplastered, thick cobwebs hung eerily on its corners "Wh-wh-who be that?" Mama Saliu asked

"Na Ebeyo" the fat woman responded, knowing that the 'skeleton' would recognize the name.

Mama Saliu inhaled deeply "ok" she said weakly

"We dey find Saliu"

"W-we?" the old woman asked, her surprise showed in her tone. It was then that they realized she was blind. Why shouldn't she be? Living here alone, totally secluded from the outside world, Suliyat thought. She was even a special kind of survivor not to be dead.

"I no know where that bastard dey" she finally responded, with powerful hate towards the person she was asked about his whereabouts.

John felt the hate in her crooked voice. He knew it was only natural that she wouldn't want to talk about such a person. He pleaded "Mama, abeg", interlocking his hands into each other as though she could see him.

Mama Saliu shook uncomfortably upon hearing John's voice, her almost-inexistent eyebrow raising higher in surprise "Na man be dat?" she asked, as all present looked at themselves, wondering why the over-reacting over John's plea.

"Him no suppose come here" she finally said, the words coated in doom.