“……you have been accused of getting into students’ lockers at night, eating their provisions and wreaking havoc on their other properties in addition to the constant noise you make that regularly prevents students from sleeping properly. How do you plead, guilty or guilty?”

Of course, the rat didn’t respond, so the boy holding it up by the tail poked it in the belly. It squeaked.

“Guilty it is,” pronounced the “judge”, an ssII boy, the expression on his face grim and grave, like he was about to convict a hardened criminal who had been on the lam from the law for a long time. “As the student hostel law stipulates, any rodent guilty of the above mentioned crimes against the student body is to die by the stone. Therefore, having been found guilty by your own admission, I hereby sentence you to death by the stone.”

“Court!” yelled the “orderly”, another ssII boy. “Let the execution commence forthwith.”

The boys proceeded in a single, silent file, grave and dignified in their execution of justice, to the back of the hostel where the stone lay, death bringer for many a rat before, waiting to perform its usual duty. On getting to the stone, the boys formed a circle around it with the stone at the center.

“Executioner!” the “orderly” yelled.

A rather short but quite muscular boy stepped forward and lifted the heavy stone.

“Jailer, put the convict in position for its punishment.”

The boy holding the rat up by its tail dropped it at the center of the circle, its feet having been previously tied to prevent it from attempting an escape. The rat seemed to know its oncoming fate as a small squeak escaped it. The “judge” stepped forward from the circle.

“You receive just punishment for your crimes.” He said. “May god have mercy on your soul.”

He gave a short nod, and the “executioner” dropped the stone on the condemned rat, killing it outright. The boys surrounding shook their heads mournfully, like they had just witnessed the execution of a close relation they felt was most likely innocent.

“Justice has been served.” The judge said; and having thus dispensed justice, he returned to the hostel to prepare a bowl of garri with sugar and the little milk left after a rat had torn several holes in the sachet and much of the milk had leaked out into his Ghana-must-go bag and mingled with detergent that had leaked out when another errant rodent had chewed holes into the sachet of detergent, rendering the leaked powdered milk irretrievable.

I had witnessed this “execution” several times yet each time, it never failed to amuse me. The boys took it quite seriously as most times they went after a rat, they would end up killing it before they could “try” it. Once in a while, they would strike lucky and capture a rat alive. A court session would be quickly called at which the rat would be accused and, without being able to defend itself of course, get sentenced to death by the stone. What kind of trial was that where the defendant couldn’t defend himself?

“Just imagine if one day, the” judge” asks “guilty or guilty”,” my friend, Jide had once joked, “and the rat replies in a deep, bass voice; “innocent”.

I laughed till I wept.

But these rats were bold o. I remember once rushing into my room one evening to grab a book before rushing off to evening prep class. Right there at the center of the room was a rat, grooming itself (a rat grooming itself?!). It had obviously not seen me come in or heard me so it didn’t even bat a whisker. What? I thought. This can’t be happening. I stamped my foot on the ground to inform the erring rodent that a human was in the room and that it had better scurried away. The thing turned around slowly, almost languidly to regard me. Then raised its nose and began to squeak. After a few seconds of squeaking, it turned around and stalked off, still squeaking, leaving me very amazed indeed. Of course, Jide made light of it.

“Didn’t you understand what it was saying?” he asked. “It was saying; “what arrant nonsense! See this JssI boy o! Una no get old man picture for una house? See lack of home training o. You enter room see elder, come stamp ground. Na so dem dey take greet elder for una side? Try dat rubbish again if I no go lie you down, flog you thirty. You get luck say I dey good mood…….””

I laughed till I nearly peed my pants.

For the record, I’m in ssII.

Last week, the “execution” had been for the most popular rat we knew, a rat we had nicknamed “Bruce”. Earlier in the term, it had gone rampaging in a boy’s locker. Unfortunately, the boy had opened the locker before it could finish its plundering and had cast an impressively heavy shoe at it. The shoe did strike Bruce but did not succeed in killing it so it escaped with a limp. Since then, it had been sighted several times limping around the hostel. Each time, the sighter would try to kill it and each time, it would escape unscathed, leading to the nickname “Die Hard”. Of course, Bruce Willis was the lead character in the movie, Die Hard, so the name soon metamorphosed to “Bruce Willis” before being shortened to just “Bruce”.

Catching Bruce soon became an obsession with the ssII and ssIII students. And pretty much every other student. But for the ssII and III students, catching Bruce was akin to finding the Holy Grail. Of course, there was no reward for catching the famous rat; just the eternal honor of being the guy that finally “nailed” Bruce.

Till one fine Wednesday afternoon, after lunch and just as the afternoon siesta was about to begin, I arrived the hostel to hear cries of;

“I’ve caught Bruce, I’ve caught Bruce!”

Everyone rushed forth to find out if it was indeed true; if the legendary rat had indeed been caught. And yes, the rat with the limp of legend had indeed been caught and was now being brandished like the Champions League trophy by its proud captor. Now who was this hunter of renown that had finally managed to capture the ever elusive Bruce?

It was a JssI student!

The ssII and ssIII boys gnashed their teeth in shame as, for the first time, a JssI student was made “judge” to preside over Bruce’s trial. Of course, the boy made a botch of much of the proceedings, to the private (and public) glee of the senior students. Still he retained the honor of capturing Bruce and sentencing him to death.

Yesterday, the rat situation came to a head for me. I had been asleep on my bed, a “lower bunk” bed. As an ssII boy I was entitled to sleep on the top bunk bed but back in ss1, I had had the top bunk space. One day I slept and woke up at, say, 2:30 am with an intense ache on the entire left side of my body. The mattress had gone from soft and warm to cold and very hard. I had fallen from the top bunk and landed on my left side. Nobody told me to take the lower bunk space thereafter). Very suddenly, I woke up. Something was creeping along my leg. At first, I thought it was one of those my mischievous classmates, trying to steal the key to my locker so they could steal my provisions but this didn’t feel like a hand. It was way too furry to be hand. Then whatever it was crept onto my exposed belly. I flew from the bed like someone possessed and heard something drop heavily to the ground and scurry away.

“Rat!” I yelled. But then, everybody was asleep and nobody heard me and came brandishing sticks and brooms for the capture (and potential trial). I stood alone in the dark room wondering. How had the rat got on my bed? Since the rat menace started, the school authorities had got welders to weld a round, metal component to the foot of all the bunks to prevent rats from running up the bunk supports. So far it had been successful, and fewer students woke up at night because rats had decided to give them a free of charge massage. So how had this rat got on my bed?

Ah, I thought. Spotted it. Earlier in the day, while trying to clean up the room, I had pushed the bunk against the wall. There was a window right where I had pushed the bunk. The rat had probably got on the window sill, and then jumped to my bed. Smart rat.

I pulled the bunk back to the center of the room; not caring if the grating noise woke anyone then removed everything under the bunk and dumped them in a corner. Then I took down my mattress, flapped it and beat it to make sure that no other offending rodents were already positioned there, waiting to pounce once I lay down. Then I ran my hands over it while holding it upright, just in case any athletic rats were clinging onto the mattress with sharp claws; you never know with these things! Then I replaced the mattress, spread my blanket over it and lay down to sleep. Let’s see how the rats would get on my bed now.

I had barely lain on my bed for ten seconds when something furry landed squarely on my belly and started scurrying up to my chest. For the second time in two minutes, I flew from my bed like Jet Li, alarmed, amazed and a bit terrified. How did that rat fly? Did it pole-vault onto my chest? Or parachute down from the window? Had rats now got advanced flight technology or started attending classes in gymnastics. My goodness! Where was the silly thing, by the way?

A squeak came from my bed; the rat informing me it was still there and was feeling quite well and very at home.

I sat up in a chair till day break.

Then earlier today, the rats took it a notch higher. At the morning assembly, our Principal announced that the school’s board of governors would be visiting the school on a short inspection tour. Therefore, all students had to be on their best behavior and if he as much as heard anybody’s voice that day, that person would be getting thirty lashes.

After the assembly, he held a short meeting with the teachers. Now our school principal’s office is just across from my class so I saw him as he stalked into his office after the meeting with the teachers. Shortly after, I got a message summoning me to the principal’s office. Probably a message from my father. My father and our Principal were great friends (and that gave me great grief) so each time the Principal summoned me, I was almost sure it was a message from my father.

I had presented myself at the Principal’s secretary’s office and was about telling her that the Principal had sent for me when I heard a voice from his office bellow;

“MARY! MARY! COME HERE IMMEDIATELY!”

Mary, the principal’s secretary fled her seat like a scalded cat. When our Principal is angry, everybody (and I mean EVERYBODY) got out of his way and responded to his every command, double quick time. I mean, this man could bite! It didn’t help Mary that she was the Principal’s sister-in-law.

Still, Mary took the courtesy of knocking at the Principal’s door.

“Are you dense?” screamed the voice from within. “Will you come in here!”

Mary muttered something about not being dense before opening the door.

“Did you say anything there?” the Principal yelled.

“No sir,” Mary rep-lied, stepping into the room and forgetting to shut the door behind her, meaning I had quite clear view of the Principal’s office from where I stood.“You sent for me sir?”

“Yes, I yelled for you,” the Principal affirmed. “Can you explain this?”

He held up a piece of paper. It was rectangular and, from where I stood, looked like a certificate of some sort. It also looked like it had been visited with the wrath of Bruce’s extended family; there were holes everywhere and the edges bore the tell-tale marks of something that had been heartily chewed on by rats.

OK, nice short story albeit ended abruptly. Would you be kind enough to patiently review this piece and correct the grammatical errors. Punctuation is also very important if you would like to improve it. However, I like the story, the delivery can be much better though.

Er, it ended abruptly because it's not yet finished. I split it in two so it wouldn't seem so long. I'll post the rest shortly.

“Sir?” the bewildered Mary responded. Was this man in any way asking if she had dined on the certificate? If that was the case, then he was finally stark staring bonkers.

“Don’t sir me, you rodent!” Our Principal had a penchant for calling everyone rodent when he was annoyed. As it turned out, it was quite appropriate for the situation and Mary was more convinced than ever that the Principal suspected her of feasting on the certificate.

“But sir, I didn’t eat it.”

“That’s what I’m sa…..what?” The Principal stopped short. “Who said anything about you eating anything? I’m asking why rats had access to this certificate that I’m supposed to present to the board of governors when they arrive any time from now. Didn’t I tell you that this was the Certificate of Excellence presented to this school by the State Education Inspection Board? And that if anything happened to the certificate, it had better happened to you as well?”

Mary considered the prospect of being chewed on by a group of rats and did a mental god forbid.

“By the way, didn’t I ask you to get the exterminators to get rid of the rats in and around this office?”

“Yes sir, but..”

“And……” the Principal started, waiting for an answer.

“The exterminator saw the number of rat holes and said the job was too much for him alone.” Mary responded.

“Mary, what do I present to….” The Principal broke off, having seen something. Mary prayed in her mind that it wasn’t his birth certificate that had been chewed as well that he had spotted. “Is that….” started the Principal.

“RAT!” Mary finished, leaping onto the nearest chair as a long tailed rodent sprinted across the room in her direction.

“Will you get off that chair and kill it!” Our Principal yelled.

There was no way Mary was going to get off that chair to kill the rat. Even the chief priest in her village wasn’t going to make her do it. Principal spotted me standing in his secretary’s office.

“You, come in here and get that rat!”

I stepped into the office and got down to work. Having been part of some of the rat hunts in the hostel, I knew the first few steps to take in a rat hunt. First was to block all the rat’s available escape routes. Then make sure it had no access to its hole, if the hole was in that room. However, the Principal’s office was a jumble and there were a gazillion and one places the rat could hide. We had to do this the direct way.

I ran out to Mary’s office and grabbed a mop stashed away behind a drawer (yes, students know where everything is, you’d be surprised). As I stepped into the room, I didn’t even have to ask.

“It’s there,” squealed Mary from her fort of safety atop a chair in the Principal’s office.

I approached the corner she was pointing at and poked randomly. Immediately, something sprang out straight at me and for a moment, I wasn’t sure if it was a big rat or a small cat, till I spotted the tell-tale tail. This one had definitely fed fat on the Principal’s papers and the Principal began to wonder aloud which other important documents of his were now making their way down different rats’ digestive systems. As it approached me, I felt a small pang of fear. Wasn’t this thing afraid? Then I swung at it with the mop. It dodged the mop and changed direction, headed for The Shelf.

The Shelf was where the principal proudly displayed trophies and plaques won by the school at uncountable competitions. It was a multi tiered shelf and at the very top, all on its own, was a glass plaque, an award of excellence that our principal was presented with at some international event. Only the Principal and the Senior Prefect were allowed to touch it. Not even Mary was allowed near it, not even to clean it. At the start of every term, the Principal would sermonize about the rewards of hard work at the first assembly, the Senior Prefect standing beside him (at a good enough distance so the Principal wouldn’t knock it out of his hands by mistake while gesticulating), bearing the plaque in full view of the students as evidence that the rewards of hard work were beautiful, glass plaques.

The rat leapt onto the lowest level, bearing the shining trophies. I raised the mop, poised for a clear strike.

“Stop, stop you rodent!” Principal yelled. “Do you want to break everything?”

I stopped. The rat didn’t, however. It continued to the end of the lowest level where it could find leverage to climb to the next, higher level. Which it did. The second level also bore trophies and cups; no danger there. Then it mounted to the third level, bearing wooden plaques. We all waited with bated breath, watching the rat’s every move, Principal nearly blue with holding his breath.

Then it made it to the fourth level, bearing the more beautiful wooden and glass plaques. It didn’t even pay these any attention; just raced to where the top of a book shelf was within reach and with a small leap, made top of the shelf. Principal heaved a sigh of relief.

Then the malevolent rat turned around back to The Shelf. If it took a leap down, it would land on the fourth level. If it took a short leap up, it would make it to the top level where, at the center, the Principal’s most prized possession stood on a rather small base. The Vice Principal had once suggested that a small wooden base be constructed to make less susceptible to a fall (and of course shatter). Principal had nearly turned purple at the suggestion, debunking any chance of making the plaque any less beautiful by “tainting it with unnecessary additions”. He no doubt saw the wisdom of that move now.

“No, no, no, no, no,” Principal muttered under his breath and I must confess, I was amused. The only time we ever saw him like this was when the school football team was playing a match. It was usually followed by a slap to our closest player if we missed a great opportunity to score. And funnily enough, each time he slapped someone, we scored a goal. We soon took to shouting “slap him, slap him!” at any player close to the Principal if our team ever found itself a goal or two down. Players started avoiding playing the wing where our Principal usually stood except we were winning the game handily.

The rat took the leap……..and landed on the top level.

Principal nearly had a cardiac arrest.

“STOP THAT THING!” he yelled at me.

“But sir, I will break….” I started quite frankly.

“DON’T YOU DARE GO NEAR THAT PLAQUE!” the man yelled, both at me and the errant rat. Me, I stopped. The rat, it proceeded leisurely, like it was daring the Principal to do anything. The man was sweating like a Christmas goat. Each step the rat took closer to the plaque, our Principal’s color went closer to blue. Now it was half a metre away. Then a quarter metre. Then less than a quarter metre. Now within sniffing distance. And finally right next to the plaque. I though Principal would drop dead right about now.

“Don’t even think it,” Principal said, addressing the rat squarely. I wished the rest of the school could see this; it was priceless.

The rat turned to look at him as if to say, “ehhn, okay na. Let’s see if I can do it or not.”

It nudged the plaque with the tip of its nose once. The plaque shook on its tiny support base then stabilized. The rat poked again, this time a bit harder. The plaque wobbled a bit, then again stabilized. We all stood and watched this malicious rat try to knock the plaque off the shelf. It poked again and again and each time, the plaque would wobble then stabilize itself. Principal heaved a sigh of relief and actually laughed.

“The silly thing,” he said. “Thinks it can knock it off.”

The rat stopped and looked at him, as if to say, “Oh, so because I’ve been having mercy on you and this rubbish thing, you can now insult me abi? Okay.”

The rat turned around and ran a short distance then stopped and turned straight at the plaque.

“Oh, no, no no!” Principal yelled, realizing what the evil thing had in mind. The rat then ran full speed and bumped into the plaque, this time knocking it clean off the shelf.

“CATCH IT!” Principal yelled. I lunged but I was too late. The thing smashed against the hard ceramic tiled floor.

With a roar, the Principal lunged from behind his table at the shelf and, in one clean sweep, grabbed at the rat as it tried to make good its escape and crashed into the shelf, knocking down a few cups and plaques then falling to the ground. I immediately rushed over to help him but he pushed me away and stood up, a bit painfully. Then I heard a squeak as the Principal held something aloft, like a champion’s prize. In the Principal’s right palm, gripped tightly, was the rat’s tail and of course, attached to the tail was the rat.

“AHA!” cried Principal. “Let’s see if you don’t get a swift trial!”

What? Did this man know about our “trials”? What was he talking about “swift trials” at a rat?

“And what is going on here?” A smooth, cultured voice asked. Standing in the doorway, peering in at the drama going on inside through his half moon glasses, was the secretary to the board of governors of the school. Behind him was the rest of the board. It was traditional for the board to first arrive the Principal’s office before being led to the board meeting room by the Principal. Goodness alone knew how long they had been there watching the little home video going on within. Principal was still holding up the squeaking rat and Mary was still perched on a chair and I was still clutching an old mop. Goodness, we must have looked ridiculous.

“Any explanations?” the secretary prompted.

“Er, just cleaning out my office sir,” the Principal responded. The secretary ran his eyes over the scene again. Obviously, it did not look like an office cleaning to him. Behind him, the other dignified members of the board were trying to get a peek of the action.

“Let us proceed to the board meeting room,” the secretary said, ushering the rest out. The Principal was about to follow, then stopped, gripped me by the collar and whispered fiercely into my ear;

“If anybody and I mean anybody hears about what happened here, you will become an unofficial cleaner in this school, okay?”

“Yessir,” I replied and the man made off after the board.

Boy, was the school going to hear this one!

OMG i loooooooove this. Couldn't stop laughing from the point where u had the bed escapade lmfao.

Great job...i'm looking forward to reading more. Thumbs up

Not a bad effort. You are talented, sebonzakura, and you will get better as you write, that is a fact.

Paragraph your work,it will read better that way.

Even though I understand that this is a comic piece, I still find it hard to picture the rat deliberately knocking down things, in the prescence of witnesses. Sometimes us writers allow our imaginations to run away with us so we have to rein it in so that it dosent become downright unrealistic. Don't get me wrong though, unrealistic situations can be presented in perfectly realistic forms, but caution is always the watchword. I sometimes get the impression that you are trying TOO hard to funny. When you are writing,let your juices flow free but don't let it flow TOO freely.

Be that as it may, you are very talented and you have a huge sense of humour. I look forward to reading more from you .

Ishilove: Not a bad effort. You are talented, sebonzakura, and you will get better as you write, that is a fact.

Paragraph your work,it will read better that way.

Even though I understand that this is a comic piece, I still find it hard to picture the rat deliberately knocking down things, in the prescence of witnesses. Sometimes us writers allow our imaginations to run away with us so we have to rein it in so that it dosent become downright unrealistic. Don't get me wrong though, unrealistic situations can be presented in perfectly realistic forms, but caution is always the watchword. I sometimes get the impression that you are trying TOO hard to funny. When you are writing,let your juices flow free but don't let it flow TOO freely.

Be that as it may, you are very talented and you have a huge sense of humour. I look forward to reading more from you .

You're too serious joo Haven't read the work sha, but if you did cartoons when you were young you know that funny is usually absurd. Still, I'll read it and give my appraisal.

Ihedinobi:

You're too serious joo Haven't read the work sha, but if you did cartoons when you were young you know that funny is usually absurd. Still, I'll read it and give my appraisal.

You of all people should know that I am one of the least 'serious' people around. I was just giving my opinion na

Ishilove:
You of all people should know that I am one of the least 'serious' people around. I was just giving my opinion na

I know na......just teasing you. I even know you were something of a cartoon freak as a kid lol. Anyhow, sha, when I read the thing, I'll decide whether I support you or not.

I would say perfect OP, but I'm not so sure that's ever allowed. I'm sure you know you've got it. You did just great!

Ishilove: Not a bad effort. You are talented, sebonzakura, and you will get better as you write, that is a fact.

Paragraph your work,it will read better that way.

Even though I understand that this is a comic piece, I still find it hard to picture the rat deliberately knocking down things, in the prescence of witnesses. Sometimes us writers allow our imaginations to run away with us so we have to rein it in so that it dosent become downright unrealistic. Don't get me wrong though, unrealistic situations can be presented in perfectly realistic forms, but caution is always the watchword. I sometimes get the impression that you are trying TOO hard to funny. When you are writing,let your juices flow free but don't let it flow TOO freely.

Be that as it may, you are very talented and you have a huge sense of humour. I look forward to reading more from you .

I paragraphed it o! Don't mind my sister's blackberry phone! Due to MTN being MTN (meaning i had no network access despite subscribing), i had to post the story from her blackberry, the result being that it removed all paragraphing and proper spacing. will fix that presently.

As for the realism of the story, well, i understand its a bit far reaching for a rat to behave in so premeditated a manner but then i've had this particular idea in my mind for a long time and thought it kind of funny to make animals seem a bit more capable of thought and reaction than we normally credit them with. Sometimes you have to stretch reality to push that kind of point across. And believe me, in reality, sometimes lower animals do behave like they're capable of rational thought. the part i wrote about running into a rat when i went to get a book IS true, happened back in secondary school and to me, no less!

Fixed the paragraphing.

@all, thanks for the comments. Really grateful you guys took out time to read this long one! Seems like I can't cure myself of writing long short stories!

senbonzakura_kageyoshi: @all, thanks for the comments. Really grateful you guys took out time to read this long one! Seems like I can't cure myself of writing long short stories!

It's quite a funny piece. Review typos and some grammatical errors especially in the first part and you will have an excellent short story on your hands.

@senbonzakura

Dude, you're an excellent writer by my standards. You've got great imagination and you got delivery. I don't know how long you've been writing but keep at it. With increased experience, you'll learn to say more with less words.

Piece of advice: find a good writer and establish a relationship with them. Let them criticize your pieces for you. They'll do a more focused job of it than we can. And learn selective reading. Study writing styles especially those that are similar to yours.

Again, I think that you're really good, man. Cheers.

This is totally way out of this world.... I love it... Seems like I will run to this section o...

maclatunji:

It's quite a funny piece. Review typos and some grammatical errors especially in the first part and you will have an excellent short story on your hands.

Thanks. Will do.

Ihedinobi: @senbonzakura

Dude, you're an excellent writer by my standards. You've got great imagination and you got delivery. I don't know how long you've been writing but keep at it. With increased experience, you'll learn to say more with less words.

Piece of advice: find a good writer and establish a relationship with them. Let them criticize your pieces for you. They'll do a more focused job of it than we can. And learn selective reading. Study writing styles especially those that are similar to yours.

Again, I think that you're really good, man. Cheers.

Thanks, i'm really quite flattered! As for finding a good writer....phew...i might as well find the left eye of a thirteen tailed tiger or the right leg of a pregnant mosquito! Of course I get to meet a lot of good writers online like right here on this board but actually meeting one in real time? It's not easy. I'm a student about to graduate from uni (just waiting for my project defence, actually) so i've not been able to meet with established writers who could mentor me or help improve my work and style. I'm hoping that after i'm done with school and back in Lagos i might actually somehow get to meet one.

Foxybone: This is totally way out of this world.... I love it... Seems like I will run to this section o...

Lol, thanks. Really grateful you took time out to read it.

senbonzakura_kageyoshi:


Lol, thanks. Really grateful you took time out to read it.

Thank God you know the next thing on my mind.... Come and continue....

senbonzakura_kageyoshi: Thanks, i'm really quite flattered! As for finding a good writer....phew...i might as well find the left eye of a thirteen tailed tiger or the right leg of a pregnant mosquito! Of course I get to meet a lot of good writers online like right here on this board but actually meeting one in real time? It's not easy. I'm a student about to graduate from uni (just waiting for my project defence, actually) so i've not been able to meet with established writers who could mentor me or help improve my work and style. I'm hoping that after i'm done with school and back in Lagos i might actually somehow get to meet one.

It doesn't have to be in real time. If you've met good professional writers here on the web, cultivate their friendship online. Email communication still works. And with increasing depth of interaction, you may eventually meet them in realtime.

The important thing is that you communicate with them and pick their brains and allow them to challenge you. It works, I assure you. You just have to want to do it first.

senbonzakura_kageyoshi: Thanks, i'm really quite flattered! As for finding a good writer....phew...i might as well find the left eye of a thirteen tailed tiger or the right leg of a pregnant mosquito! Of course I get to meet a lot of good writers online like right here on this board but actually meeting one in real time? It's not easy. I'm a student about to graduate from uni (just waiting for my project defence, actually) so i've not been able to meet with established writers who could mentor me or help improve my work and style. I'm hoping that after i'm done with school and back in Lagos i might actually somehow get to meet one.

It doesn't have to be in real time. If you've met good professional writers here on the web, cultivate their friendship online. Email communication still works. And with increasing depth of interaction, you may eventually meet them in realtime.

The important thing is that you communicate with them and pick their brains and allow them to challenge you. It works, I assure you. You just have to want to do it first.

Ihedinobi:

It doesn't have to be in real time. If you've met good professional writers here on the web, cultivate their friendship online. Email communication still works. And with increasing depth of interaction, you may eventually meet them in realtime.

The important thing is that you communicate with them and pick their brains and allow them to challenge you. It works, I assure you. You just have to want to do it first.

That's where the difficulty lies. I find it very hard to cultivate online relationships. people only become very real to me AFTER i've met them. I'll try sha, it's fr the best but i'm not holding my breath on my ability to cultivate a succesful online relationship.

senbonzakura_kageyoshi:
That's where the difficulty lies. I find it very hard to cultivate online relationships. people only become very real to me AFTER i've met them. I'll try sha, it's fr the best but i'm not holding my breath on my ability to cultivate a succesful online relationship.

You berra start trying. My mentor is a lecturer of African literature in U.I and I have NEVER met him.

Ishilove:
You berra start trying. My mentor is a lecturer of African literature in U.I and I have NEVER met him.

Whoa. How does someone get THAT lucky? Do i need to find powdered unicorn horn or the holy grail?

senbonzakura_kageyoshi:
Whoa. How does someone get THAT lucky? Do i need to find powdered unicorn horn or the holy grail?

You'd be surprised what you find when you look.

Ihedinobi:

You'd be surprised what you find when you look.

i'd best start looking then.

senbonzakura_kageyoshi:
Whoa. How does someone get THAT lucky? Do i need to find powdered unicorn horn or the holy grail?

You need a holy unicorn and powdered grail horn

Ishilove:
You need a holy unicorn and powdered grail horn

lolz.

oh, and i think my extremely short stay at the religion board has come to an end. no way THAT place can change.

senbonzakura_kageyoshi:

lolz.

oh, and i think my extremely short stay at the religion board has come to an end. no way THAT place can change.

I used to frequent that section but when I realised what a total nut house that place was I started keeping off. Now I hardly visit that section. I stick to sections where there is some semlance of sanity

Ishilove:
I used to frequent that section but when I realised what a total nut house that place was I started keeping off. Now I hardly visit that section. I stick to sections where there is some semlance of sanity

your sig.......funny as hell and true as the gospel

Funny write-up u've dere.
We've had enough of d suspense & side talks frm Ishi & Ihedenobi, donc, il faut continuer monsieur.

avicky: Funny write-up u've dere.
We've had enough of d suspense & side talks frm Ishi & Ihedenobi, donc, il faut continuer monsieur.

Avicky ma loooove! Comment ca va?

senbonzakura kageyoshi dude trust me if i say i loooooooove your work its an understatement! U are gooood. but dont let it get to you view criticism with an open mind. Take the good and watch out for those that are just bad mouths. Thumbs up!