CHAPTER ONE


I
sit on the door step of my grandmother’s old house enveloped in gloom, glazing far into the distant foggy hills, but neither seeing them, nor other splendours of nature surrounding me. I sit in the same spot everyday, thinking about my life, crying and wiping away the ever flowing tears from my always red, sore eyes. I gnash my teeth, I sniffle, I whimper, I regret and I ask myself the same question all over. Why?

Though my environment is joyful, and the people around me are always happy and boisterous, I am still very sad. Since my first day in Owo, a small town in Ondo state, Nigeria, I have always been sad. From sunrise to sunset, I sit here wondering why my life could take such a sad sudden turn. I ask myself, I ask God, I ask anybody who cares to listen, why?

Often times, this period of the morning when the day is just breaking, I have only the chirping birds, the croaking frogs and the stillness of the quiet village to keep me company. I tremour with the spasm of emotions rocking my body, and the sadness eating away at my heart. I don’t sleep at all, my heart is filled with sadness. I sit in a secluded corner, my own world, where happiness is a mirage.

I am 16 years, pregnant, desolate and a drop-out from secondary school. My grandmother, with whom I am living, and my parents are ashamed of me, and that was the reason I was ‘shipped’ from Lagos to Owo. They want to safe themselves from the disgrace and the heart wrenching agonies, and allow me have my baby quietly without anybody knowing. I was told I would be allowed to go back to school, a new school, either in Owo or Lagos, once my baby is weaned. But this is not the reason for my deepening sorrow, nor is it the grave offence or ungratefulness of letting my parents and siblings down. My sorrow lies in the fact that I am HIV positive!

My name is Adetutu George. Allow me share my life with you, let me unburden my soul to you and please listen to me with rapt attention; let me tell you how it all started and probably how it will end. I am going to tell you about people, places, events, secrets, moments, decisions, mistakes, sadness, happiness and every other thing bottled up inside my 16 year old mind.

I know that teenagers and other people in their early twenties are peculiar and special people, especially because we are driven by a new force growing inside us, that no other person in the world understands but us. At least, that is what we think. The problem however is we need help, more help than any other group, and from my experience we often reject the helps. Our feelings are we are grown and all knowing, but unfortunately we are young adult who still need to be taught how to fly like the young birds. We need the experience of those older than us, they will hold our hands as we try to walk through our life, especially with our first unstable steps.

The most important aspect of any teenager’s life or anybody at all is to avoid making mistakes that will ruin the future, just as the most fulfilling part is to continue to triumph and achieve goals as the years roll by. Contacting HIV could be a deadly mistake, especially as it is incurable, but since it is avoidable, by all means we should avoid it. You can safe yourself a lot of pains, it all depends on you.

Now you will get to know about Emeka a.k.a. (James Bond), Vivian a.k.a. (Sweet pie), Dare a.k.a. (Dr. Dre), Jamil a.k.a. (G Money), Zainab (Zee baby), Ngozi (Miss World) and many of my friends both in school and at home. Again, I will tell you about Mr. Orji, the Physics teacher nick named ‘‘Keep Lagos Clean’’, the English teacher Mr. Akindele (Mr. Akins) an ever smiling young man and our Principal, a no-nonsense middle age woman we nicknamed ‘‘Extra Large’’ because she was big and fat. There is Miss Williams, the pretty Biology teacher, nicknamed ‘’Beyonce’’ the boys never stop talking about, Mrs. Okeowo, the agric science teacher (the one we nicknamed farm manageress) and many more teachers we never liked but are always trying to help us. We believe they love to prevent us from having fun.

In my young age I have been to many places, these are locations my parents would never imagine I could be in twenty years. There is the ‘Blue Club’, which is our party venue and the ‘Republic of Morocco’ a spot behind our school, slightly inside the bush where only the tough seniors can ‘hangout’. It is where all the smoking, the drinking and all the immoral acts are done. If you are not part of the crowd at Morocco, then you are not ‘hip’ or ‘cool’. It is the place for the popular boys and girls in school. I wanted to be popular, and I was part of the crowds at Morocco, where I also get to meet other students from neigbouring schools. It was there I met Emeka, the boy who eventually got me pregnant, and probably infected me with HIV.

The boys have their secrets – their escapades, conquest, smoking, gambling, drugs and the like, same as the girls who like sharing adventures. Needless to say our secrets would make our parents scream! But of course we enjoy relating them to our friends, episodes by episodes. The darker the secret, the naughtier your friends think you are and the more popular you think you have become. We also relish in these delinquent acts until somebody gets into trouble, then we’re shaken, but then we soon go back to it all. I must say that our only reward for all these things we do, is to be able to say something during our tête-à-tête , see our friends’ eyes dilate and hear them gasp, and probably say ‘You naughty girl!’. That’s when you are ‘happening’.

Are you there? Let me have you know that like some of my friends who have also got into trouble, the scale is off my eyes now, but unfortunately things can’t just go back to being the same. Like a tree cut down, which of course cannot be clasped together by cellophane paper or welded together to be able to grow along with other trees, our lives and progress are disturbed or stalled when we make mistakes, and sadly others must leave us behind.

Now, I realised other people have been teenagers before me and that I am not necessarily smarter than they are because I am one now. Being a teenager means being very responsible, and focused, at least I owe that to myself. I also must be responsible because of my family and society.

I am here in Owo, mesmerised by what is happening to me. It all seems so hazy, and I keep hoping I am in a bad dream, praying to wake up soon enough. My friends in school would be rounding up their final examinations and they would be free. Feeling regal and eligible to find a place in the many Nigerian higher institutions or abroad ready to pursue a career, they are truly the ‘happening guys’. I can’t say the same for myself. I am the proverbial tree cut down, who can no longer grow along with the other trees. As I sit here gazing into the far hills, I am afraid. I am afraid not only for my pregnancy or my HIV status, but also for the baby growing inside me. Doctors already told me that about one third of babies born to mothers infected with HIV may become HIV positive too, especially through the placenta, during birth or through breast milk, if they try to breast feed. Please, I need you to pray fervently for me and my baby! I would not be able to forgive myself, if my innocent baby is infected, it deserves better a life.

‘Adetutu!’

‘Tutu! What are you doing outside crying your eyes out? Do you want to kill yourself? Now you must stop all this crying and do something to keep yourself busy’

That is my grandmother calling out to me, She wakes up every morning, finding me on the same spot, crying myself to death. She will hug me and continue to recite my ‘praise names’ until I stop crying. She has been very supportive and loving. She is the only one that can put a smile on my face now and probably make me laugh occasionally. Poor woman, I have caused her so much pains.

‘Tutu! Tutu …. How many times will I tell you not to stay outside?’

That’s my grandmother again, excuse me. I need to go and hug her and cry on her sympathetic shoulders, I need her re-assurance that everything would still be okay. My poor grandmother, the best grandmother in the world, so kind and understanding.

I wish I could turn the hands of time, at least for the sake of my poor grand mother.
















CHAPTER TWO




I
was preparing for school when the telephone in the sitting room rang. I dashed out from my bedroom to pick it up.

‘Is this you Tutu?’ A voice said from the other end. It was a little hushed and unsure, the caller identification is showing private number.

‘Who are you?’ I inquired, I knew it was my close friend Vivian, but I always love to play pranks on her, she does same to me too. I also knew she must be on one of her delinquent spree to have hidden her number.

‘Naughty girl don’t you recognize my voice’ Vivian retorted crossly. I could hear the television sounds at the background, I think it was ’big brother Africa’ Watching television so early in the morning! That’s Vivian for you.
‘There are over 150 million people in Nigeria, how do you get to differentiate all their voice? Who are you?’
‘It’s Vivian, you silly girl!’ she was very angry now
‘Oh Vivian it’s you? I’m sorry dear’ I said pretending, almost laughing out loud and giving my pranks away.
‘Sorry for yourself, nonsence’ She replied very quickly.
‘You didn’t call me up early this morning to insult me’ I feigned being angry.
‘You are very annoying Tutu , imagine you not knowing my voice’
‘Bush girl! Ignoramus! The first thing you do on a telephone is to identify yourself. Is this you Tutu?’ I said mimicking her ‘Nonsense!’
‘Now I’m sure something is really wrong with you. Anyway are you going to school today?’ she finally mentioned her purpose of calling me. Her questions are always unbelievable. It was a Monday, and everybody is expected to be in school.
‘Why not, aren’t you coming?
‘I don’t know’.
‘Why?’
‘Stop quizzing me p-l-e-a-s-e, you are not my mother’
‘Sorry big girl, but remember ‘Keep Lagos Clean’ gave us an assignment’
‘I know and that’s why I’m calling you’ she hissed ‘Have you done yours?’
‘Why not?’ I’m actually surprised, Vivian is never interested in anything school. She hates school. I don’t think Vivian attends school half of the number of days she is supposed to in a year.
‘Look I won’t be coming to school, just copy your own assignment and submit for me’ She said in an instructive tone
‘But ‘Keep Lagos Clean’ might find out, he has a way of finding out’
‘ No … just use your left hand to write mine. The writing would be different, he won’t find out’
‘Vivian …’ I hesitated ‘You know ‘Keep Lagos Clean’ is so mean, if he ever finds out …’ My heart was already racing
‘It’s not that difficult common! He won’t find out … you know I’ll do the same thing for you, common be a spot’ Vivian reeled on.

I heaved a loud sigh. Twice last session, Vivian did put me into trouble then we were in Senior Secondary School One. She had copi.ed my English essay assignment ‘word for word’ which resulted to Mr. Akins punishing us. We wrote new essay topics everyday for one week. Again, she made me lie to her parents on the payment of Five Thousand Naira extra for Inter-House Sport, which the Principal punished us severely for too. I know Vivian is bad influence but I wanted to tag along with her. She is very lively, mischievous, and never seems to stop laughing in her high pitch squealing manner. She enjoys being naughty. All the girls wanted to be as ‘hip’ as Vivian, she is the authority on fashion, music, and parties.

I couldn’t have possibly been friendly with somebody like Bola – a quiet, and squeamish, but very brilliant classmate. She was easily the best student during our junior school days, and had won prizes for virtually all the subjects last session. She’s always squinting at her textbooks, though already she’s using recommended glasses, this was why she was nicknamed ‘windscreen’. She lives two houses away from me, but I didn’t want to be her friend. She’s not fun to be with, she’s very unlike Vivian at least that was my thinking. Being friends with Bola could have probably changed my life. Vivian actually called her a nerd, and said she would one day die of boredom.

‘Are you going to do it or not?’ Vivian asked impatiently, she must be very angry now.
‘Suppose mine is wrong, the calculation is so difficult’ It was actually on heat capacity, a dreaded topic.
‘Go over to windscreen’s house and copy from her’
‘You know she won’t allow me’ Bola is nobody’s fool in spite of her quietness.
‘Right or wrong, just copy for me. Bye’ Vivian cut the line before I could say anything further. Actually I was looking for a way to say no, without annoying her.

Once again she is placing her problems on my shoulders. She probably would stay home and watch home videos or cable television. Her parents like mine work on Lagos Island, and do not return until late in the night and they leave home so early. Even when they finally have their annual leave, they travel abroad, leaving Vivian and her equally mischievous brothers with the house maids, to do whatever is their whim. I can say Vivian is spoilt silly. Being the only girl in the family, she never does nothing at home except listen to music, read fashion and gossips magazines, watch television, take ice cream, sleep and attend parties, then laugh at her own mischief.

Like I predicted, we again got into trouble, and this time, ‘‘Keep Lagos Clean’’ really dealt with us.

He had stormed in during one of our HIV/AIDS lecture classes organised by a non-governmental organisation to help young students in our locality. Vivian, besides postponing ‘‘Keep Lagos Clean’’ wrath till the next day, also missed learning about some very important information about HIV/AIDS.

Dr. Aisha Abubakar the HIV/AIDS programme lecturer, who is also a medical doctor, taught us that HIV means Human Immune Virus, and that AIDS means Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome. She again explained that HIV is the virus that causes AIDS, and that AIDS means collection of diseases that a person has when HIV has destroyed the body’s protective system. For example, the white blood cell we were told in our biology class, protects our body from many diseases.

Dr. Aisha is ever so friendly, and she answers all our questions so nicely that we really want to understand everything she talks about on HIV/AIDS. When she said a person with HIV finally becomes very ill and bed ridden with such illness as fever, tuberculosis, pneumonia and severe diarrhea, we were all very afraid. The picture that came to our mind was that of a thin, fragile looking person, locked down on the bed with all sorts of diseases, coughing and groaning in pain. She however made us realise that HIV destroys the body defense system slowly, and that from the time of infection to full down AIDS may take 2 to 10 years.

When she told us that we should tell our parents to let us have HIV/AIDS test to know our status, we all argued that we do not need to do the test, especially as many of us are not sexually active, but Dr. Aisha only smiled and nodded her head disapprovingly. She told us promptly that anybody can get infected with HIV and not necessarily through sex and that we really need to be very careful. She explained that beside sex, in which the transmission is carried out through sexual fluids e.g. Semen, when people have unprotected sex (not using condoms), HIV can also be contacted through blood, or cutting ourselves with sharp objects like syringes or blades which contains infected bloods. She also informed us that HIV is also transmitted from mother to infant.

‘Since you all know how you can contact HIV, how do you guide yourself against getting infected?’ Dr. Aisha had asked the class that afternoon moving away from the board to sit amongst us.

I think one of the reasons everybody like her is because she treats all of us like adults, and she always takes her time to explain difficult parts of her lectures. We all wished our teachers could be like her. She once said the word ‘young adult’ gives us a whole lots of responsibiltity.

‘You are advised to use condoms when you are having sex, right?’ She asked smiling, and easily we all echoed ‘yes’ not realising where she was heading to. She nodded her head mockingly.

‘Please, raise up your hands if you are married in this class’ she asked again in her usual smiling, quiet attitude, but the question really shocked us. For a long time there was quiet and hands were raised. Nobody is married in my class. Then she delivered another question.

‘Which of you here can get his or her parents’ permission to have sex, or can tell the parents that he just had sex?’
Funny. Once again there was quiet, the question was strange, no hands were raised, and we were all wondering where she was heading. We were all probably trying to figure the relationship between sex and parents.
She sighed out loudly after sometime, and then walked back to the front of the class, studying all our faces closely. Her arms were akimbo.
‘Sex is for adult who are married, and who have their parents and God’s permission to have sex and that is because they are married. Condom is for married people when they do not want to have children. It is not for spoilt boys and girls who do not want to get pregnant or contact HIV. Don’t forget that there is a possibility that even with condoms you can still contact the virus or get pregnant’
We were all surprised, because we believe the ultimate solution is condom. And she must have seen it on our faces.

‘It is better not to start having sex until you’re married. If your boyfriend or girlfriend wants sex, it means he or she does not love you and only wants to sleep with you. Tell them to wait till the proper time. If they can’t wait, they can leave. Don’t allow anybody to pressure you, having sex when you are not married is not cool, rather it is stupid. Zip up’

I wish I had really listened to Dr. Aisha or practiced what she told us, but I had allowed an avoidable mistake to put me in the position that I am right now. Now I remember one of the things Dr. Aisha said, that no matter how many times you used condoms, there will come a day you will get careless by not using it, and that will really cost you a lot. ABSTENANCE is the safest.
Just before the bell rang, Dr. Aisha glanced at her wristwatch, and then she promised to finish off the topic the next class, as it was almost break time. That was exactly the time ‘Keep Lagos Clean’ furiously stormed inside the class. I wanted to faint when he called out Vivian’s name? He had discovered she was not in school and somebody had submitted for her. God help my soul!






































CHAPTER THREE


F
or two weeks, Vivian refused talking to me. She blatantly told me she doesn’t want to have anything to do with me again all her life. ‘‘Keep Lagos Clean’’ had punished us severely and Vivian had blamed everything on me and my ‘stupidity’!

That day, ‘Keep Lagos Clean’ had been in his meanest mood. He had collected the assignment according to the names on the register, having warned us seriously not to submit for anyone not present. The class had stood at attention while he was calling out the names, and dropping a pin would have produced loud noise. When he called my name my heart was jerking violently and was practically inside my mouth. My legs were wobbling and feeling like rubber, and it took all the strength in me to step forward and give him my paper. His bloodshot eyes and flaring nose could make anyone uncomfortable. Then I knew I wouldn’t have been able to summit two papers together, even if it were not on an individual bases. He had called out Vivian’s name, and without any response, he had proceeded to nodding his head meanly.

When he had stormed into class just before break, instantly I realised I had submitted Vivian’s paper instead of mine in panic. I wanted to die. For a moment, I stopped breathing, and my brain cells refused working. For what seems like forever, I was just staring at him. Just then, blood started flowing back into my brain and in panic I started checking inside my desk over and over but I could only find my own assignment sheet. I could see that ‘Keep Lagos Clean’ was so petrified and with his mirthless laughter, he had screamed. ‘Who submitted for Vivian Nwadike?’

‘Who submitted for Nwadike?’ he repeated, his smile was mirthless.

Without being conscious of it, I stood up, and looking at me with contempt he angrily commanded me to follow him down to the staff room. The rest was history. After our 2 weeks malice, somehow I mended fence with Vivian after which I went to visit at home on a Sunday. It was there I first learnt about STDs, that is, sexually transmitted diseases, of course I’ve heard information about HIV and we often joke with the messages: ‘if you no fit hold body use condom’ or ‘zip up’

It seems we only hear the messages but don’t really understand them and the implication of being infected. Yes, we hear it kills, but our comprehension did not go beyond the pain you suffer when you have headache or sprain your ankle. You need to see an AIDS patient that has really been knocked down to appreciate the messages.

Immediately I got into Vivian’s house, I could hear her ever composed mother screaming at the top of her voice. Collins, Vivian’s immediate elder brother has a sexually transmitted disease or what I just called an STD! Their uncle Uzor a medical doctor who came around for a visit had noticed him scratching around his crotch area. Quietly he had followed him down to the toilet where Collins hurriedly went to pass out some whitish substance mixed with blood. He was also having difficulty passing out the urine. Unfortunately, he had been keeping it away from everybody, until the uncle found out. What frightened me was that the uncle said prolonged result of STDs could range from becoming impotent, damage of the reproductive system or even death. He explained that it is not easily noticeable in females and that makes it more dangerous, because it would have done lots of damages before detection.

After everything, we had all followed Collins down to his room, amidst their mother screaming in anger. Inside his wardrobe were packets of unused condoms, packets of cigarette, pornographic films and magazines, bottles of alcoholic drinks and many other things that should not be found with a boy of his age. Their mother actually went wild and gibberish. I was sure the question uncle Uzor and the mother must be asking themselves is why teenagers never do anything good, except look for self destructive vices, the same question popped into my mind at that moment. Collins just looked on like he was a zombie.

The next day he was taken to the hospital where he was diagnosed to have contacted Syphilis, later I learnt about other sexually transmitted diseases such as gonorrhea, streptococcus, and harps. The next one month, Vivian’s parents were very strict, no friends coming to the house, no parties, light out at 9 O’clock, checking the rooms frequently and having the maids report all what they do, but soon they lapsed back to the old ways.

I think the problem with most parents is their substituting love, care and time with money. It is true they have to earn a living to keep the family together, but quality time with the children is also very essential. Parents need to talk with children and be their friends, so that whatever is going on inside the teenager’s whirlwind mind could be discussed. I think sometimes when you need help, you can’t even talk to your own parents either because they don’t have the time for you or you are not just close enough to ask certain questions or tell them personal things. They are like strangers you see everyday or some number of days in a week at home.

If our parents are this way, then we also need to offer some help. We can make request that we want to have discussions with them, definitely they will want to hear us out. We can also help to bring about the desired closeness by asking questions and actually reminding them to spend more time with us.

There are a lot of things bottled up inside a teenager- insecurity, self-consciousness and an unbelievable shyness which make you think you’re always the focus in everything, the fact is you need a listening ear and a chaperon. This is exactly the reason we all like Dr. Aisha, and seem to eat out of her hands, she listens and give us some very useful advice, but her thirty minutes talk every week was not enough to help us all . In spite of all of the challenges posed by parental lack of time and attention, teenagers needs to be responsible and restrain themselves. The aftermath of getting into trouble is suffered most by the teenager or young adult.

Three days after Collins’ incident, Vivian called me up.
‘Is your mother still angry with Collins?’ It was the question I wanted so much to ask, Vivian had not been in school for those 3 days though she leaves home, only God knows where she goes to.
‘Don’t mind the woman, she shouts too much!’ She replied sulking, not very pleased with her mother.
‘She’s just worried! What Collins did is very bad! I’m sure she was frightened out of her wits’ I was surprised she could say that about her mother.
‘Collins is a big boy’ She interrupted me. ‘He has six girl friends and none of them knew the other existed’ She was excited with her brother’s escapades.
‘That’s a record! He would win a Nobel prize for that’ I said sarcastically ‘Did you advise him at all’
‘Why? He said he’s a polygamous bachelor’ She replied, I think Vivian is so proud of her brother’s exploits. She likes to think he is Fela Anikulapo- Kuti.
‘So who is suffering the pains now? For God sake he is only 18 years, he could kill himself’
‘Your concern is choking me. Are you interested in Collins?’ Vivian asked mischievously, laughing in her usual high pitch squeal.
‘God forbid!’ I screamed into the phone.
‘I’m sure he would say same for you’ she hissed. ‘You don’t measure up’
‘So are you coming to school tomorrow?’ I changed the topic.
‘Anything important?’ She asked rather carelessly, her questions are always bugling.
‘Dr. Aisha is coming….’ I announced.
‘Oh, she’s so cool, I wish I were her…, so beautiful, so intelligent… I want to be a doctor!’
‘You wish’ Vivian actually wanted to be everything without working for it.
‘Don’t be silly, are you saying I can’t be a doctor?’ she was cross now, she hates it when any one infers she is not serious or academically sound to achieve a goal.
‘Maybe if you work harder’
‘Yes….work harder, get serious…, How does it become your business? Of course you pay my school fees and you give me allowances to school’ she was really annoyed now. ‘Maybe I will come’ she said after wards, but not before warning me to stop saying such ‘silly’ things again.

It’s so nice that Vivian came to school the next day because Dr. Aisha’s topic was very interesting. Vivian of course pretended to have been sick, feigning that she was weak and thus could neither talk much nor go for break. She acted like somebody who just came back from the hospital the whole time.

From Dr. Aisha’s class, we learnt that the signs and symptoms of AIDS come from the different diseases that penetrate the body of the individual living with HIV, which means they vary. These disease are called opportunistic infection (OIs) because they seize the opportunity to enter the body when it is weak. Dr. Aisha however said that skin and mouth infections are common and affect many people with AIDs. She also explained that sometimes the person feels sickly and at other times he or she simply feels fine.

‘How would you know you have HIV?’ Vivian who was not part of the last class asked, for once she was showing interest.
‘By going for HIV blood test’ Dr. Aisha answered. ‘Though one test is not enough, the most important things is to do away with risky behaviors that can make you contact HIV. The HIV test does not show HIV until 3 to 6 month after an individual has been infected. So if your test is negative, you may have the virus but it does not show in your blood, therefore have another test 3 to 6 months later but avoid risky behaviors like I said’
‘Suppose we go for test and it is positive, what happens?’ Dare asked, he looked very scared, many of the students in class are actually scared, the whole class was quiet.

‘The reason you should go for test is to be able to give yourself the special care you need when you know you are positive and also that you do not infect other people . If you are infected, then you need help from experts and support group, so that you can get more education about HIV. Let me quickly tell you that HIV and AIDs are not shameful diseases. It is a serious infection that can be prevented. When HIV occurs, families and communities need to come together to help each other’

Dr. Aisha as usual moved away from front of the class to sit amongst us, this way we feel she is also one of us. Just like Vivian wanted to be like her, I would have wanted her to be my elder sister or aunt. She seems to know everything and understands us so much- she is more of our friend than a teacher.
‘Who can tell me what an anti-retroviral drug is?’ she asked after sometimes.
There was silence and it was only ‘windscreen’ that shut her hands up.
‘It’s a drug to help maintain people with HIV so that they can be healthy’ she answered correctly as usual and we clapped for her.
‘Is it not possible that people who want to get married could infect themselves if one of them already has it? ‘Ngozi asked.
‘Its simple, people are advised to do test before they actually get married’ Dr Aisha answered ‘Why the focus is much on sex is because the infection of HIV is prevalent through unprotected sex’

Not long the bell rang signaling the end of the period, which means Dr. Aisha has to go. We were not happy about that, we were thinking of asking the school to increase Dr. Aisha’s period with us. Time seems to be faster when she is in the class room. She bade us goodbye with the promise of returning next week, with another topic on HIV/AIDS.

At least for another week, Vivian has something positive to think about and look forward to.

Is this published and in the stores? Where can we get it?

Its only available here in Nigeria for now, but Please mail: hafeeskeshinro@yahoo.com for shipping to you.

If you are in Lagos and you want bulk for distribution, it can be delivered to you.

Like we say, GIVE THIS BOOK AS A GIFT TO THE TEENAGER NEXT TO YOU

I hope you are conscious of the few responses your post has elicited, i think its an indication of our appreciation for written works and for reading. Your story starts on a hooking note and is worth reading (not only for teenagers).

If what you have posted here is really what is in print, may I suggest a few corrections? Or have you made these already?

I am a write myself and have a few works of mine seeking the publishers' blessings. I think we have a lot to share.

@Potut, thanks, i always welcome corrections and willing to work with writers too as i am a small publisher myself. please mail me @hafeeskeshinro@yahoo.com