[size=30pt]THE STORM FORETOLD (2,244 WORDS)

BY

MISS_FIBRE

FINAL ENTRY MADE INTO THE COMPETITION
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We expected it, waited and watched the horizon just to catch a glimpse of it. Prophets came out, prophesied and gave us dates. The dates came and went by with nothing, not even the slightest incident. The sky remained blue, with dust floating its surface instead of clouds. The cold of the harmattan had already begun to take its toll, making us stay inside more.

I remember that night vividly like it is still playing out in front of my eyes. I had sat in front of my TV, watching the proceedings of the National Conference to see the outcome. Lawmakers had debated back and forth, issues were raised, accusations made. You could feel the tense air emanating from the conference room through the TV. My heartbeat only came after every ten seconds, delaying my breaths. Since I was living alone, there was no one to share that tense moment with.

“The best thing to do is to divide the country. Let the north stay on its own and the south on their own”. Babafashun was saying.

Babafashun was one of the lawmakers to draft out the constitution for the republic of Songhai. His voice wavered from suppressed anger as he made his point as others murmured in the background. The whole setting looked disorganized.

I squeezed the handle of my leather chair tightly as the verdict of the conference was announced. Songhai would give a “try” being one for the next 100 years. I felt downcast, grieving from a sense of loss. I looked from my plasma TV hung on the wall to my grandfather clock striking away. I had always known this was coming, what would follow remained a mystery as the question bugged my mind.

“Fellow Songhainians, we just passed through a difficult period. One which had led to the decision which was taken yesterday at the Sovereign National Conference. As expected the state of Songhai pulled out as one. United more than ever before.” The President paused dramatically, taking a deep breath.

“Songhai had been unstable lately but I believe with the result of the National Conference, we would join hands together and chase the demon which is sucking us dry.”

He had stopped, brought out a sparkling white handkerchief, wiped his face and dabbed his eyes, after moving his gold-rimmed glasses to a side.

“Being the number one citizen of this country, and as a patriot, I hereby announce my resignation from being the president of this country. It is with deep regret but having thought of it, I believe it is the best decision in the right direction. My resignation begins with immediate effect.”

I was clothed already, my briefcase on the low table that adorned the middle of my room. As it is with my morning ritual, I make sure I watch the 7:00am broadcast of the National news. Today was no different but the sudden resignation of the president made a big difference.

“Joe, Joe! Jonathan the man”, the unmistaken voice of my best friend shouted from the other end of the phone.

“I am not in the mood of receiving early morning praises you this Igbo boy”. I said curtly, a smile playing on my lips but my voice sounding hard.

“Ah ah, why is your mood like this Jonathan? Are you the only person that had not heard the news?” Lloyd asked.

“Hmmm, you dey ask question wey the answer dey stare you for face. No make me reason say you don forget say news dey like cocaine for my side?” I dropped the Queen’s English and answered his question in the typical manner.

He laughed softly, hailed me once more and dropped the call. I looked at my phone shaking my head. Today was really going to be a long day. Lloyd calling for the first time without stating his reason for calling is bad enough. I knew my colleagues and friend would laugh so hard at me. I could not help it. I had bragged about the disintegration of Songhai republic after the National Conference. It did not happen as I had prophesied but the president resigning was the next big thing that overshadowed everything else.

I stepped out into the morning sun, walked to my car, got in and zoomed into the roads of Wupe. Okija had turned into a ghost of its former self.

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The President now turned Ex-president stepped down from the podium, his eyes heavy with tears. He looked at the surprised faces of his Ministers and proceeded to walk towards the door. His ADC was too shocked to come after him.

“Mr. President”, a voice called to him. He turned round to see Baranla Kuma staring at him.

“Yes, minister”, his voice sounded distant.

“That was not what I wrote on the relaying screen Sir.”

The minister of information was almost breaking down in tears.

“Some decisions come while one is asleep. You had a good speech but my heart is already set.” The president said as the door opened automatically allowing him to step outside into the spacious reception.

The wall still had the picture of his famous smile and eye glasses. The people who voted him would surely feel bad, but he felt the country was spiraling out of control. All the committees he had set up to look into matters had submitted invalid reports. From the fuel subsidy committee down to the aviation sector. The cabal was just too strong to handle. Civil war too seemed to be lurking at every corner of his action. Governors had rebelled against him and now, the Sovereign Conference had come to naught.

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His orders were simple. Take the president out and make sure you are not seen. All his life, he had trained for this, travelling and getting involved in assassinations of leaders of different nation who were meddling in matters. He had pulled the trigger in the Republic Libya and then handed the gun over to an Arab. Days later the Arab man was found murdered. Even as far as Afghanistan, his mission had taken him. Now it had brought him back to his home country, Songhai.

He had gone through the pictures sent to him, over and over again. Different poses of his target with different people, his smile distinctive. He had always had dislike for his target for he felt the man was a puppet. Now felt like the time to make things straight.

“Target approaching”. A mechanical voice spoke into his ear piece.

He was perched high up, awaiting the procession that was bring his target in. He adjusted the rear-sight eye piece of his weapon, the front element locking device coming into place. His fingers slide past the trigger guard, resting lightly on the trigger.

“Target in sight! Take target out!!” The voice spoke in sharp bursts.

He did not hesitate as he squeezed the trigger lightly, the explosion shattered the night but the President was already dead before his bodyguards could react. The agents quickly traced the sound to the top of the building where they met the assassin dead, a bullet wound on his forehead and one on the chest. A quick search of his person produced an ID card with the name “Lloyd Chinedu”.

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The death of the Vice-President shook the country for there was no premonition before the attack. The Ex-President, Dr. Ebere Stratham who resigned had gone back to his house in Otueke. The Vice President had become Acting President and had taken over running the government till the next general elections. The Senate was divided and the House of Representatives did not help matters. The nation was at a standstill.

When the military finally released the name of the killer of the Vice-President, fingers were pointed, tongue wagged, accusations and counter-accusations filled the air. Presence of policemen and heavily armed military men marked everywhere. Attacks on government buildings became incessant with the capital city being the most unsafe. Different armed groups sprung up, with the fighting being more intense in the oil region of the country. A civil war was playing out.

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“Silence… No one talk”

I said harshly as I strained my ears for any sound. We were packed together in the AC room of my office. There had been a vibration like an earthquake followed by a loud bang before there was a cut in power supply. I did what every normal Songhainian would do. I jumped from my seat and raced to the door. Since following the lift which had lost power would be the same as a suicide mission, I ran towards the emergency exit.

Many people had gotten to the exit before me and were all rushing down. I joined the crowd at the end of the line.

“Ta ta ta ta ta”, sound of a submachine scattered the procession of people rushing down the stair. Everybody turned round and started rushing back up. Screams followed more shots being fired. Being at the end of the line, I rushed back into the passage leading to my office. The office looked the most suitable place to hide, but the ever nearing sound of gunshots made me change my mind and jump into the room housing the Air Conditioner.

My colleagues were all there including my boss and some other people working in the adjoining office. There was no key in the lock of the door and the air conditioner was making lots of noise. Shutting it down could raise suspicion so I kept mute and waited. Praying that whoever was shooting would not find us hiding there.

The gunshots increased but this time, not directly in front of the room we were hiding in. It sounded a little bit distant. I scanned the face around me. The women were teary eyed, the men wore gloomy faces, and everyone was frightened. We had been hiding there for over an hour. I opened the door gently since I was the one closest to the door and peeked out. The passage was deserted except for a body lying down in front of my office. I looked ahead into the glass and saw bodies sprawled in the adjoining office. It seemed they were not fast enough to get away. I did the sign of the cross and stepped into the passage.

My leg felt rigid as it directed me towards the emergency exit. My sweat gland fully activated, ears strained for the slightest sound. I knew death could catch up with me any time since guns were still being fired but I still took my chances. I held the door knob, turned it slowly, pushed my head through the little opening. Bullets in the head kill more quickly than when fired on the chest on any other place where you bleed out slowly until you are dead, I reasoned. There was no one in sight. I quickly made a hand motion to those who I believed had stepped out after me.

I walked down the first flight of stairs, my eyes darting up frequently to prevent an attack from above. Getting to the last bend, I turned around and motioned those following me. They came down quickly, trying their best to make the least amount of noise. As soon as they got to me, I made my way down to the main door. The security men manning the door were all lying dead, their blood colouring the ground. Bulus, a very good friend of mine among the guards lay dead close to the fire alarm. Quickly I motioned to the rest who ran towards me at top speed. We were out, we were free.

We ran across the compound, aiming for the gate when there was a sudden burst of gunfire. Everywhere went silent, my heart stopped. I turned to see a man dressed in black, bullet chain draped around him and holding a machine gun go down. He had been shot dead by uniformed men who were waiting to receive us. I heaved a sigh of relief, turned to continue running but could not. Something warm was trickling down my trousers. I looked down and saw my stomach dripping with blood. The ground below my feet moved and I fell down and slept off.

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“You can all return to your business as everything is now alright. No one will intimidate you, this country has come to stay and stay it shall. We are one nation under God.”

The voice of Capt. Daniel Ark was strong as he gave a speech at his swearing in ceremony. The country had just recovered from a civil war with great losses on every side.

The fighting had been intense with high rise building hardly left standing, but work had begun in earnest to return the country back to its lost glory. Those who had flown out to avoid being killed had returned and life just started to return to normal. The military that had played a great role in making the country stable again had gone back to their barracks leaving the policemen to handle things.

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I smiled to myself as I looked to the big screen at the far end of the ward. Other patients were shouting and screaming at the end of the broadcast of the Swearing in Ceremony. Songhai had truly been shaken but it stood firm. The future appears bright I said to myself as I looked at my heavily bandaged stomach.





[size=30pt]THE END**[/size]

Night visitor

(2,050 words)

By ROYVER


It is a warm night. The air is hot and sticky, the kind that makes you want to pull your clothes off before going to bed. Everyone in the boarding house is asleep. Well, almost everyone. Sandra is still awake. She has sneaked out of the dormitory into the store room, just as she does every Friday night. It’s a small room and is supposed to be used in keeping provisions for the students’ use though for the past semester it has been abandoned. The ceiling is covered with cobwebs and the light bulb is ash colored having burnt out a long time ago. Beside one of the walls is a single chair and table. The only source of light comes through the single window on the opposite side of the room which is just large enough for someone to squeeze through. Sandra cleans the table and chair with a napkin that she brought from her dormitory. Not the cheeriest of environments but Sandra doesn’t mind. She’s expecting a visitor tonight.


Sandra looks at her watch. It’s almost midnight. She sighs and counts the tiles on the wall beneath the window sill. When she finishes she looks at her watch and sighs again. A mosquito passes by, courting the blood vessels beneath her skin with its high pitched song. She swats at the insect in irritation but even that does not spoil her mood. She wonders how he will look tonight. She smiles to herself as she remembers their last encounter, her lips making a petit curve, cute, kissable. She thinks he might let her kiss him tonight. She had tried once in the past but he had refused, saying it was not proper; he would be taking advantage of her; she was too young, if his people found out, and so on. She had wondered why he had been so nervous about the whole thing. It’s not like she wasn’t going to be sixteen in a few months, truthfully it wasn’t even her first kiss, and what did he mean ‘if his people found out’? Anyway the topic had so agitated him that she had dropped the subject. They had gotten a whole lot closer since then, her handsome night visitor.


She looks again at her watch. It is 11:36 p.m. She begins to worry about him. She wonders how he steals out of his abode every Friday night to come and see her. Does he have an accomplice? Has he ever been caught? She cannot say. She has never gathered up the courage to ask. Maybe tonight, she thinks. Tonight she’ll ask. A rattling noise outside makes her heart skip a beat. Is that him? Did he come early today? The idea that he might be as anxious to see her as she is to see him excites her. She moves to the window and stares outside. There’s a sickle shaped moon out tonight and the stars compete with it to light up the heavens. She hears the rattling sound again and looks in that direction only to see a huge rat scurrying around the garbage bin, looking for a morsel to eat. She watches it in fascination as it climbs nimbly up the side of the garbage bin and into the leftovers of the evening only for it to be chased out again by a previous occupant. The two rodents bare their teeth at each other for a while before the new arrival concedes and jumps down to seek dinner elsewhere.

12:03

Where, oh where is he? Why does he linger so? She watches the thin hand of the watch count away the seconds. It is past twelve and yet there is no sign of him. She begins to pace around the small room. After a while she starts fiddling with the doorknob. She is about to start counting the tiles again when she hears a faint knock at the window. She looks up and sure enough there he is. She lets out a little cry of delight and rushes to open the window. She pulls the window open and he comes in, smiling, taking her hand.

“Sandra,”

She stares at him in awe and wonder as she always does when she sees him. His upper body is completely naked revealing an ebony- brown lean and muscular frame. His lower half is covered by a skirt that seems to be made of jet black fur that extends just above his kneecaps. There are golden bands around each wrist and ankle. His generous crop of hair is darker than the night sky crowning an exceedingly handsome face.

But it is his wings that keep her attention the longest. A large outgrowth of feathers that seem to sprout out somewhere behind his shoulders. Each feather is velvety black with a golden tip at the end. He watches the look of amazement on her face as she studies them as she has done on each of his previous visits. Suddenly he stretches them out and laughs at the look of awe and delight on her face. Each wing glimmers, even in the poorly lit room. She grins and pulls him further into the room, motioning for him to sit on the chair. He settles for the table instead and she sits beside him.

They talk and laugh, sharing each other’s experience of the day. She tells him about her school mistress, how her teacher punished a girl for not paying attention in class by making her balance her notebook on her head, how she and her classmates were caught completely off guard by a surprise math test. She giggles and tells him she thinks the head boy might have a crush on her, if not why does he offer to help carry her books back to hostel in the full glare of his peers?

He tells her about the battles of Avalange and his encounter with the destroyer of lost souls. He tells how he narrowly escaped being caught by one of the ancient giants and how he helped rescue a little boy who had been abandoned by his peasant mother. He narrates his battle with grotesque creatures too terrible to define. He retells his first flying lesson, a story she never gets tired of hearing.

They laugh together, listen to, and advice one another. Soon the watch beeps one o’clock and he has to leave. He approaches the window, bids her farewell and is about to climb out when she suddenly runs to him and hugs him fiercely. Her vision blurs as tears fill her eyes and her voice is shaky as she pleads with him to stay a little longer tonight. He holds her close to himself, his wings wrapped around her. He sniffs the scent of her hair and she feels the slightest heave of his chest as he savors the fresh aroma. Then, gently, he pulls her away and holds her at arm’s length.
“A time must come when you will no longer get these visits from me. We are two different creations, you and I. Of the same God, yes but otherwise we were not meant to interact, not in this time anyway. I have taken a terrible risk revealing myself to you and you have been kind to a poor servant like me. Though I do love you, and I see clearly that you feel the same way for me, we were not meant to be together, and the union would be an abomination. Take heart in the truth that I will always watch over you and will guard you till the commencement of the new time. Then we will be together at last.”

She loves the way he talks, the way his words sound like he is from another age, which he is. She would do anything to listen to him talk all day. She would do anything to delay him, make him stay. She pulls herself back to him and holds on to him tightly once more.
“Stay…please,” she says. “I cannot bear to have you leave me again. I have been afraid that one day you would leave and never return, and now it seems that is what you want to do. Ever since when you revealed yourself to me a few months ago I have loved you. How will I live without you? Who will be my confidant, my adviser, my…my friend? Can’t you continue sneaking away like you have always done? They’ll never find out, I am sure of it!”
She hears him laugh quietly. His arms and wings encompass her again and for a brief, wild moment, she thinks he will indeed stay. But then he pulls her away from him again.
“You know you ask for that which is impossible, child of Eve. I cannot stay hence; I would not easily blend in. And even now Morgtomir my keeper grows suspicious of my weekly absences. It is only a matter of time before I get caught and punished.
“Then….then, I’ll go with you!” She whispers fiercely. “I won’t be a burden; I can take care of myself. My parents are both dead anyway and no one would really miss me. I could…”
“No!”
In the time she has known him, he has never raised his voice to her. The monosyllabled word echoes round the dusty room and as she watches his feathers glow a fiery red. Is this how he is when he is angry? She stands where she is and begins to weep. Immediately he kneels before her, imploring, trying to make her understand.
“I am but a low guardian angel, I couldn’t protect you from the horrors of our world, not all of them anyway. Please understand. I have to leave you be, at least for a time. I would never forgive myself if something were to happen to you…”
“Stand, please.” She pulls him up to his feet. He looks endearingly into her eyes and she can see the depth of love within them; an all consuming love that would engulf and devour her if it had the chance. And he smiles at her and calls her his secret princess.
She lets more tears fall from her eyes as she gazes down at his feet, unable to meet his stare. But finally she looks up and he smiles again and wipes the tears from her cheeks. Suddenly he pulls her to him and kisses her and a million stars explode in her stomach as she experiences lightness and bliss beyond what few of her kind will ever experience in their lifetimes. As he lets her go, she remains in a realm of extreme peace and calm and her eyes remain closed even as she hears his voice for the last time, far away, like a whisper:
“Goodbye, beloved one.”
“Goodbye,” she says , eyes still closed but now slowly opening, knowing that he is already gone, no evidence that he was ever here. She looks out the window but there is no sign of him. She feels a mild regret but also an inner peace, assured that even now, his loving eyes remain fixed on her.
“Goodbye, my Angel.” she says.

“The Lagos settlement, of all places, and in a girl’s dormitory?” Morgtomir wrinkles up his bushy eye brows in amazement. He is a much older angel and his silver streaked feathers glow magnificently in the moonlight. “Honestly boy, I thought you had more experience under your belt than this.”
“She is special,” Theron replies, “I have cared for her since I found her abandoned in the bushes. I admit I have let my boundaries slip somewhat, but-”
“You know how this ends, boy.” Morgtomir rumbles, shaking his head in exasperation. “You know how it always ends.”
“I do, wise one. I promise you it ended tonight. When next she sees me, it will be at her eternal calling".
Morgtomir grunts in satisfaction and flies off into the night. Theron takes one more look at his secret princess in the window and whispers:
“But as for my love and protection, it will forever be with you. Do not forget me, princess. Do not forget your night visitor.”

The end

TITLE: THE DEATH I FORGED AGAINST MYSELF

Hours had passed since I woke up in the entanglement web of darkness, struggling furiously against the ropes binding my hands to the wooden arm chair. My head felt like someone had beaten on it like a pestle pounded on mortar. I futility strived to squeeze out my arms out of the bindings that attached my forearms to the chair. Twisting my neck, I attempted to take off the soft piece of material that was fastened wraparound my eyes by rubbing my face against my shoulder. How long have I been tied up here? Different thoughts were racing through my mind while mischievous smile around alerted someone’s presence.

"Who are you? What have I done? Come and release me o" A high-pitched noise from me echoed the entire building.

"Will you keep shut?" A thickened dense voice yelled.

"Who...." I was about to scream again when an open-handed massive slap landed on my face. The round part of my eyes within the eyelids was hurt by the unkind spank. The person loosened the soft material on my face. My dimmed eyes were stripped to see a gun pointed at my forehead.

"Say your last prayer! One! Two!...." The stone-hearted man standing before me echoed, and before I could say a word, he had counted 'three'. The last thing I heard was my piercing voice 'ye!'

"Gaaann...ran! Gaaann..ran!" the alarm I had set on my Nokia phone awoke me from the dreadful nightmare. I was immersed in anxiety; my heart was beating fast like it never did. So it was a dream? I stretched my right hand across the bed to pick my bible, and recited Psalm ninety-one, "He who walks in the secret place of the most high...." I added Psalm four, ending it with my favourite verse;"....I will lie down and sleep in peace...” This particular verse had saved me from several nightmares especially when I used to have meaningless and traumatic dreams like falling from a high or into a pit. “Things that happen in the spiritual realm indeed control the physical." Since I had made it a night duty to recite Psalm four before going to bed, such dreams had ceased, and I’ve been experiencing elevation in every facet of my life.
Yesterday I was promoted to the post of a Senior Engineer in my company, Dangote Sugar Refinery Plc (DSR). The event was still as fresh in my mind as mayflowers. Thanks to my friend, Engineer Femi who paved my way into the company. I prayed him too will be elevated as I was. Because it saddened me whenever I remembered I met Femi at DSR as a Junior Engineer after he had worked for five years when I was still in the university, and I had been promoted three times, but Femi never was. I just wished he keeps hope alive, because good time comes only to those who still hope. He deserved something better. He squatted me after NYSC; he helped me get a good job till I had my own apartment - a big self-contain at Egbeda two months ago.
Some minutes later after the nightmare, I recalled that I had set the alarm on my phone to wake me up, so I could write or at least get ideas penned on my notes. I was in the final round in Mazi Short Story competition I was participating, and it was two days to submission deadline. I had to write something; I had always wished to know how to assemble words into literary jewels to express my thoughts. And participating in the competition was an opportunity to horn my writing skills. So I got off the bed to write the plot of a story I had cooked up in my brain. This story went this way: “I had a character that just moved into a new self-contain apartment. Two months after, another character, who I named 'Mr. Eric’, moved with his wife into the self-contain apartment beside the first character’s. Mr. Eric was a six-feet and half tall, black man. He had a jerry curly, blown up hair; a broad shoulder, and wide chest; and was as huge as hotel bouncers. He was also a stammerer. Mr. Eric travelled, and the first character slept with his wife. When he got to know, he killed the first character. The moral of the story: Do not lay with another's man wife." So my story line went. I would complete the story tomorrow before the deadline. Before I finished writing I was already dozing. I went back to bed and slept off.
I woke up the next morning. I checked the time on my phone; it was 6:30 a.m. I got up swiftly and dashed into the bathroom; brushed up my teeth; open the shower, and bathed myself clean. I rushed back directly to my wall hanger. I selected an orange with touches of white, slim fit shirt and a black pant trouser. I tucked in the shirt, knotted a tie, and picked my shoes on the slab of the wall hanger. It was 7:03 am, I was almost late. I made my way out. Outside my apartment was my new neighbour. The landlord had told me they would be packing in this week.

"Go...od mor...ning, sir" The man said, holding his wife on the left hand, and a brief case on the right.

"Good morning, sir and ma. You are my new neighbours, I guess?" I returned the greetings, smiling and staring at both couple. They were perfect. No doubt that they were made for each other.

"Yeah! We are." they both chorused, and the husband further inquired," i..t's g..ood to me..et you her..e. H..ow i..s th..is en..viro..men.t, and pre..cisely this house. You..." he cut himself as he thought they needed to introduce themselves first. It took him minutes to pronounce each word. It was obvious he was a conc. stammerer, "s..orry, I am Mr. Eric, and th..is is my wife, Mrs..."

"Mrs. Eric" I concluded it. He spoke better this time around. He seemed to hold his speech a whie and say it once as it hot.
But I was astounded, though I took it away off my face. The character's name in the story I wrote during my sleepless hours in the night was the same as my new neighbour, Mr. Eric. He was also same way I had describe the character. The most frightened trait was that Mr. Eric my new neighbour in real life also stammered as the one in the story. I responded after a second of silence, “good to know that. I am Mr. David." I extended my right hand out to him for a hand shake." Mr. And Mrs. Efe, as you can see, I am heading for work and time is flying. I will see you later. Welcome into this new house."

"Oka..y, Mr. D..avid. G..ood lu..ck as yo..u go." I hastily rushed out. I could not await him to finish his long speech.

Later that night when I came back from work. It was around 11:00 p.m. There was power failure, so I had pulled on a small blue tiger generator outside, while I was busy furnishing the story I wanted to submit. Not so long, thunder boomed, and the wind swirled; the curtains on the window were drifting right and left. I stood up to shut the window when I realized it has started raining. I did hurriedly leave my mini library to cover the generator. I met Mrs. Efe very close, trying to shift a drum under the rainy water that fell through the channeled part of the roof. I went close to join her hands and the empty drum began to fill with water.

"Thank you" she said as she was shivering like a chicken that just had its head cut off. She had been wet by the rain.
"You are honourably welcome. How is Mr. Efe?" I asked as I was making my way back into the room.

"He is not at home. He has travelled back to Abuja this morning. That's his ways of life. He never stayed at home for one good week. In fact I am not enjoying him and….."

I cut in. She was beginning to narrate stories I never asked or needed. But I pity her."Eeya! Sorry Mrs. Eric. You know, he is doing everything just to gather enough for the family. Don't worry. It's just for a while." I didn’t know how else to comfort her. "Good night." I was about opening the door when she talked again.

"Mr. David, can you help me with something in our room? I was trying to connect the television set plugs before there was power failure, so should the power backs. At least I would be watching T.V"

I thought for a while; well it is not bad helping her. "Okay, let me see." I followed her in.

"Here they are, I just want to connect these plugs." she said as she pointed finger at them one by one.

I bent down to connect the plugs. The grabbed that held me tight frightened me. I looked back in astonishment, it was Mrs. Eric. I quickly arose to my feet, trying to get myself out of her. But she took off the gown she was wearing. She teased me sexually, and my manhood began to lift a few notches as her unclothedness intrigued me. She went to her kneel, and held my leg so tight and began to plead, shedding hot tears. "Please I have not been feeling like a woman and it's telling on my body. I need you, please."

I was stunned. She needed me, for what? "See woman, I don't want trouble. Has your husband not been giving it to you as you want? Leave me, please!" I yelled at her and pushed her a few distance away.

She was staring at me with eyes of seduction, and my heart began to melt. "You see, my husband never satisfied me. He comes home once in two weeks and sometimes in a month. Even if he comes home, he would only do once and tell me he came home to rest, and not for sex." Tears were streaming down her eyes, "I am tired. Please listen to my cry for help."

I felt for her and found myself rolling towards her. She held my belt trying to loose it. "But you know this is temptation. And bible says thou shall not tempt thy Lord your God." I said in a cool voice. And in my mind I was reciting let me not fall into temptation; deliver me from evil...

"I am not tempting God neither you. All I crave for is intimacy." she whispered, still battling with my belt until I gave way.

She made hurried glue to my lips, and lured me down to the tiled floor. She couldn’t wait for bed, she preferred to have it right there. She hanged up her legs apart into the vacancy. I knew I had gotten into a tangled web of deception of a woman which I am unable to extract myself. My heart was beaten hard as I was being driven to ecstasy. I knew I had sinned, but when a man is in for intimacy, the blood pumping into the brain functions solely in one direction, until he had released the accumulated fluid in his organ. She felt me inside her, and began moaning. She closed her eyes to have a better taste of what she was feeling.

A smile lit up her face as she made her way to the bathroom. I remembered the story I was writing. My heart cut! Is this story coming alive or what? Wait oh! Hope I was not the character that slept with his neighbour's wife. If I was, what would happen next? Death! God forbid. I was scared like a baby would if he saw his shadow doing the same thing as he does. In a dreadful atmosphere and stab of conscience penetrating into me, I left for my room.

As I opened my door, what my sight caught was death. Yes! I was doomed. I was at the entrance when I noticed a footstep in the inner room. At first I thought it was a thief. I hid back in order not to be harmed. The person was coming out and muttering,"Ah! God saved you tonight, but not tomorrow. He looked at the picture he was holding, “David or whatever, you can’t escape this! I never failed a job!"

I was praying silently, and hidden in the bathroom. I knew he would have passed through there before. I hanged up at the wall to steal a glance at the person. It was Mr. Eric! He dipped the small short-barreled gun he was holding into his inner trouser. But the only difference this night was that he could speak without stuttering. He now had a smoothly crew hair cut. But his wife said he has travelled. Could this be a trap or what? Why didn’t he come and meet me in his room with his wife? I asked myself as it was becoming incomprehensible. My almost failed heart returned back to life as he left. I shut the door in trepidation.

A bad conscience creates malignant behaviour. Immediately I woke up the next morning, I couldn't wait till daylight when I left for work. Inside the car was I on the Ikeja express way, there was a little hold up as usual every morning. A black Rav 4 Toyota car sped up on the second lane to me. The driver gazed into my eyes. I couldn’t believe who it was. It was Mr. Eric again staring at me as a cat would stare at a rat it wanted to feed on. I followed his lips to read what he was saying. It was the last words he said last night. Another deadly looking man was on the passenger sit at the front. They both took a cruel giggle on their faces. I knew I had gone beyond the steps where the ground could collide against my feet. I was now falling. I could see the bad omen hanging up the sky. Oh! Why did I even write this story, this might not have happened if I had not written such a story. I created a death against a character in a story, but in real life it was against myself. If the story could surface, uhmm? I would be a goner. I quickly discarded the thoughts. I scrolled up the glass; I roughly drove away from the expressed road, and headed to an unknown street. I looked at the side mirror; they were chasing me. I made a u-turn into another street, but the crunch of gravels I collided with at the corner reduced the car speed. With an excellent steering curve, Mr. Eric crossed me with his car. And I was held at gun point. His partner came down with a machete shining like a laser surface. I had already raised my hands in the air; I knelt down in front of Mr. Eric I pled as fears were clinging my throat, "Mr. Eric, am sorry for sleeping with..."
"Who asked you question?" he yelled, and hit the butt of the gun on my head. I passed out!

Hours had passed since I woke up in the entanglement web of darkness, struggling furiously against the ropes binding my hands to the wooden arm chair. My head felt like someone had beaten on it like a pestle pounded on mortar. I futility strived to squeeze out my arms out of the bindings that attached my forearms to the chair. Twisting my neck, I attempted to take off the soft piece of material that was fastened wraparound my eyes by rubbing my face against my shoulder. It happened exactly the way it occurred in the dream. After a truncheon slap, the soft material covering my eyes was detached. It was same Mr. Eric pointing the gun at me. I looked around; it was the place I saw in the dream. My blood pressure augmented; a sudden urine gathered in my bladder as chicks would gather under hen if eagle comes around. What happened in the dream? I was shot! And also in the story, Mr. Eric killed his neighbour! The time I knew death could catch up with me anytime. But I was more immersed in nervousness when the greatest shock hit me like thunderbolt.

Femi was approaching and frowned with a gun pointing towards me: "good job!" he said as he shook Mr. Eric and his second in crime. "David, why are you so cruel?" the question confused me the more. Was Mr. Eric related to Femi or what? “You see, I thought you were a good friend. I sheltered you; I got you a good job. Despite all my efforts on you, you now when on to use something against me. You were being promoted every time while I was in one position. My boss no longer praised me, but you always. When you go now, you will be that senior engineer in heaven."

Every attempt I made to talk resulted in deadly slaps from Mr. Eric.

"No time, good bye." he came closer and placed the mouth of the gun on my forehead. I thought as my endowed brain would scatter on the ground in a cold murder. As he was about to pull the trigger, a voice echoed from outside,"You are under arrest, everybody! And if you move, you will be shot."

Rays of hope returned to my hopeless life as the police came around. Everyone was taken to the police custody. I was at the station for three days. Femi, Mr. Eric, and his partner were locked up, but I was left behind the counter. I was told that Mr. Eric and his partner had gone to carry out such a barbaric act they were about to do again when the police arrived. Investigations showed that they were the culprits, and the policemen had been trailing them around before they were now caught.

In Ikeja high court on Monday morning, what amazed me was when the judge referred to Mr. Eric as Mr. Kehinde Williams as the three were sentenced to life imprisonment.
A squeal of pins ran through my gloomy being as Femi was sentenced, but is Mr. Eric also Mr. Kehinde or what? Everything became more convoluted when Mr. Eric and his wife came into the court.

"M..r. Da..vid, I ju..st c..ame back f..rom A..buja when I h..eard w..hat ha..ppened. H..ope you were no..t injure..d?" Mr. Eric asked, inspecting all over my body if there were no scars.

So they were two different people, but I wondered why they looked so alike. "Not so injured, but I thank God and the police that intervened or else..." I replied. We were discussing this when Mr. Eric caught a glimpse of Mr. Kehinde, and he was exclaimed,"Ke..hinde!"

The crook looked sideway to see who called, "Eric", his mouth was wide open, "Eric, where have you been?" frustrated sobs set his whole body shackled.

"Kehinde, why! Why did you do this?"

"Do you know him? I have been wanting to talk ever since. He is your carbon copy." Mrs. Eric said as she was looking in amusement.

"Yes, He is my twin brother." Mr. Eric concluded the story," we departed fifteen years ago when our parents divorced. Mum brought me to Lagos while he stayed with Dad in Benin." Mr. Eric and Mr. Kehinde cuddled and were wailing endlessly, they never believed their meeting back could be in such condition.

So no one knew what had transpired between me and Mrs. Eric. Thank God, I will never do such again. I only forged a death against myself, but it never killed me.

LOVE LOST.
By Nuges.



I picked up my car keys from my mahogany office desk and hurriedly made for the door. I couldn't hold it any longer, I had to ask her. Thoughts of the events that happened the previous night had been reeling in my mind all morning so much that I couldn't even concentrate at work, I'd been holding it back for too long but I made up my mind that day wouldn't pass without me asking her.
As I opened the door I bumped into my secretary,

"Jeez! Mr. Segun, is your office on fire?" Vivian exclaimed, casting curious glances into the room as though she was actually looking for smoke.

"No no no," I spluttered. "Vivian listen, if anyone asks to see me, just tell the person I'm in a very important meeting, okay?"

She squeezed her face. "But you're not in any meeting now."

I was already getting very uneasy and it took much work to suppress the urge to slap some sense into her. "I need to see my girlfriend immediately. You know my girlfriend, Annie, right?"

She nodded.

"I need to leave now and nobody should know I'm not around, I'll be back before lunch, is that taken?"

"Yes sir." She nodded. "But sir, the..."

I sprinted out of the building before she could finish the sentence. Before long, I was driving out of the company's premises, heading to Annie's apartment.

It was a bright tuesday morning, with the sun scorching with all its intensity even though it was barely 10 a.m, although the air-conditioning system in my car made sure I had no share of the heat. On a normal tuesday I'd have been grossly engrossed with work, but right from the time I woke up that morning I knew the day was far from normal. I spent the better part of the morning thinking about Annie, not that I hadn't been thinking of her before, it just felt different. There was this urge, this appetency to finally ask her to marry me.

Annie had always been a part of my life. We attended the same primary and secondary schools, we even gained admission into the same university (Obafemi Awolowo University) the same year and we had always been good friends. I had absolutely no feelings for her all through secondary school even though everyone thought we were dating because we were always together. Her flat features then left little to be desired and she wielded no spark to ignite my young lustful mind. She was always the one doting on me.

Things however turned around in our first year in the university when some curves miraculously materialised on her slim figure, giving her a shape that could make a straight girl compromise her sexuality. Add a pretty face and fair skin to the mix and what you'd get would be Annie. It was then I started doing the doting, and as though to punish me, she made sure I spent all my university days chasing her. We didn't start dating until our final year on campus.

We'd been dating for three years, and it had been a rosy love affair between us, but I was yet to propose to her. I wanted to do it grand style. I had seen too many foreign movies where the man pulled stunts to propose to his girlfriend and I wanted to do the same for Annie, but my job as a project manager in a telecommunications company spared me little time. However, I watched a romantic indian movie the previous night and, more than ever, the urge to ask Annie to marry me overwhelmed me, in fact I had a sleepless night. So, that morning, I decided to grab the bull by the horn, although not without some finesse.

I parked my car in front of her apartment and raced in. She had told me earlier that she would be at home all day, and I found her in her bedroom sleeping peacefully.

"Annie wake up, wake up." I rocked her gently and planted a kiss on her left cheek.

She woke up yawning sleepily and turned sluggishly to face me. It was evident she had been sleeping for a while, her eyes were bulging. "Segun what are you doing here by this time of the day?" She mumbled. "Have you been sacked?"

I smiled. "No baby, I'm still very much employed. I just need us to go somewhere together." I replied, still rocking her body.

"Darling I'm not feeling too good. Can't we go another day?"

After much teasing and whining I was able to convince her to go with me. I waited while she had her bath and dressed up. She wore a red silk tight-fitting dress that did much to accentuate her curves. I always loved seeing her in that dress, it was one of the numerous gifts I gave her on her 25th birthday.

We were soon driving off to the destination alone I had in mind. I knew it wouldn't really come off as a surprise for her as it was long overdue, but I planned doing my best in making the proposal memorable for her. All the while I was driving I couldn't help but notice she looked so radiant. I started to wonder if she had her own share of surprises too. She complained of a splitting headache and I had made her rush through her make up, but she still looked so captivating. There was this aura around her, in my eyes she appeared to be glowing. The smile that perched playfully on her lips completed her angelic look. She was sitting in the passenger seat beside me, looking so relaxed and peaceful, seemingly lost in deep thought and a little too relaxed for my liking.

As we approached an intersection along the road the traffic light turned red and I brought the car to a halt. My gaze quickly fell back on Annie. She turned to face me for the first time.

"Baby you've been staring at me all day," she said, her voice only a decibel louder than a whisper.

"Annie, I don't know what it is but you look so...so angelic."

She blushed, her face almost turning to the colour of her dress. She unlatched her seat belt, leaned over and planted a passionate kiss on my lips. It wasn't the first time she would kiss me in traffic. In fact it had almost become a routine; anytime we were caught up in traffic we would steal a kiss, while I look around to catch a glimpse of the jealous look on the faces of the people that just saw us in the act. That morning however, her lips tasted different. My eyes remained fixed on her. Just then, the yellow traffic light came on and it was immediately followed by the green. Maybe if I had looked around this time, I would have seen the truck on the adjacent road that just jumped a red light.
***


As I advanced forward, the most unexpected thing happened. A truck crashed into us from the adjacent road at a great speed, sending our car into the air. The impact was so great all the windshields burst out with a loud shattering noise. The air-bag embedded in the steering wheel blew open and pinned my head sideways, facing Annie, as though fate wanted me to be an eye-witness of the ordeal she was about to go through. My seat belt secured me in my seat, but Annie wasn't so lucky. She got tossed really hard against the roof of the car as it landed up-side-down, tumbling several times sideways. Each tumble had Annie tossed harshly against the framework of the car, with sharp broken glasses lodging themselves deep into her flesh, and there I was, not able to lift a finger to help her, I couldn't even shout. As though that was not enough, she got thrown against a sharp metal that was protruding from the side of my now broken seat and it slit her throat clean through, splashing warm blood on my face.

The car came to rest on its left side. Annie's body sprawled lifeless right beside me as blood gushed out of her. Even with the broken glasses lodged here and there on her face she still looked pretty, her beautiful silk dress torn into shreds.

I felt much pain from the cuts I had sustained, but the feeling that engulfed me most was that of regret, and of guilt. I should have asked her to marry me a long time ago, why did I have to wait for the spectacular. I should have listened to her when she expressed her reluctance in going out with. I wished I could rewind time, but I couldn't. With the last energy I was able to muster, I parted my lips and whispered;

"Please marry me"

Then I passed out.


THE END.

The Wages of Sin
They say when a man is about to die, his entire life flashes before his eyes. Apparently it is true. My feet ached terribly but the pain was incomparable to the soreness in my chest. No, not from misery because I was about to die- but because my lunacy scowled at me whenever I attempted to give personal account of my vain life. As I slowly took my last steps toward the hang-mans noose, my mind strayed from the cold walls of the death room, the shackles on my feet, the handcuffs restraining my wrists, the odd-fitting prison clothes on my back and my unkempt countenance was drastically contrary to the graceful appearance I always imagine I once had. My inability to pray to the God I had fervently preached to millions in the past years. The ironic situation made me reminisce over how I got here in the first place.

******

My mysterious journey to damnation had been set in motion that fateful Thursday evening. I had just come back home from the church’s international headquarters where I had addressed hundreds of church workers in a seminar where I appeared once annually. As the General Overseer of Divine Favour Gospel Ministries (D.F.G.M) Worldwide, I was immensely ‘blessed’ and considerably influential in the most significant high-places in the country.

As I alighted from the Chauffer-driven Mercedes G-500 Jeep(one of many gifts from wealthy church members), I barely acknowledged the profuse greetings of the many servants I housed in my stately home situated around the more affluent part of Lekki. My presence caused a stir and honestly, I quietly derived pleasure from watching these ‘ordinary’ ones scuttle whenever I’m around. After all, I was the highly revered Bishop Samuel Atiba of world renown. I chuckled at how passionate I had been while delivering the sermon earlier that day. My charismatic aura always brought about the desired effect... always. But nothing prepared me for the horror waiting for me upstairs.
I swaggered into the luxuriously furnished room I shared with Mojisola, my wife. Something was amiss... the neat tiles on the floor were slippery and wet, the Persian rug damp, as if a flood had swept right through the room and I frowned in disapproval.

“Honey, what happened here? ... Moji... Mojisola... ” her name had barely escaped my lips the third time when I came in full view of her unmoving body at the far end of the room, lying in a pool of what I prayed wasn’t her blood. I rushed in panic to gather her up in my arms. She was very cold and stiff. Her bleeding lips were parted as if in protest to what mysterious brutality she must have been subjected to before she gave up the ghost. She was dead. Tears of anguish washed down my face and soaked my bearded face and dripped unto Moji’s lifeless body. I cried my heart out.

Who should I call...? The more I thought of calling for help, the more I felt less compelled to. I couldn’t explain the genuine guilt I was feeling for her murder. I felt fully aware of what had taken place in my absence. I could almost picture the gory incident unfurl like I was there. The sickly familiar feeling that haunted me all these years. A genuine illusion of remembering scenes and events like I witnessed them, like I actually did these things. But I didn’t kill Mojisola. No! I didn’t kill her. Realization struck out of the blue like lightening. I grabbed the keys to my dead wife’s Prado jeep and before anyone of my aides knew it, I zoomed out of the huge gates at break-neck speed. I found my way unto Badagry express road in no time and as I swerved impatiently between the night traffic, I kept muttering incomprehensible and gnashing my teeth in uncontrollable grief.

“Why should she take things so far?” I muttered, “Why has Cuda chosen to torment me this way?” I asked no one in particular.
I took a turn into a sandy road that led to the sea. As I drew nearer to the beach, I stepped on the gas some more. Despite the fact that it was getting dark, my destination was fully in sight now. I drove as close enough as the car could go upon the sandy beach and hastily jumped down from the car, leaving the engine running and door ajar. I trudged towards the sea. The strong winds raged around me in objection, and my blood-stained white agbada caught the wind but it wasn’t sufficient to dissuade me from seeking answers I needed. I buckled against the menacing wind. Had it been day time, my unmistakable presence would have aroused the attention of fun-seekers and tourists playing along the shore line. Except for the swelling waves and animated dark skies that streaked lightening every now and then, I was quite alone. I continued walking into the dangerous waves until I felt my feet give way and completely enveloped by the ocean.

I felt myself spin wildly in the sea for a quick moment and then all was very calm. My heart beat seemed to have stopped and the noise of the raging sea was a very far away sound of trickling water.

“Cuda!!” I screamed like a mad man. My voice resonating in watery echoes. “Show yourself you evil marine creature! Cuda!!”
The flush of bubbles around me made me aware of her presence. I couldn’t see her or rather she wouldn’t show herself but I felt her presence the way I had when I walked into my matrimonial room that evening. I was in no mood to accommodate her flair for theatrics today and so I gave vent to my aggression without waiting for her.
“Enough Yemoja! Enough of your wickedness and deceit. I can no longer stand your manipulations nor bask in your sinister dark powers anymore. I’ve been enslaved to a bloody covenant and deceitful marriage to you for twenty-eight years of my life. For what? So you could give me all the powers, glory and authority you claim to be sole custodian to, and yes, I got what I sought after. All the sweet vanities of life have been available to me at my convenience and in payment you engineered my damnation, and auctioned my soul to the grand master of hell and now you take the one woman I love dearly? So much for worldly convenience, so much for your professed love for me. I curse the day I set my eyes on you and allowed my useless desires swindle me into believing your beguiling tongue. You evil marine creature and your type are my worst nightmare!” I bawled bitterly to my lover of twenty-eight years Yemoja Cuda who was now fully in view, listening to me wail.
Looking upon Cuda somehow reminded me of the first time I was exposed to the supernatural marine realm. It was flabbergasted to discover that below the sea was an order of existence beyond the visible observable universe. Here exist fabled marine beings with the heads and upper body of women and tails of fish. Supernatural creatures of mesmerizing beauty and paranormal abilities such as transcend the laws of nature. My ability to live under the water as human being came with all the numerous metaphysical and demons that I possess. The blood covenant I had with Cuda made me naturally anaerobic in this habitat.

Yemoja Cuda was staring fiercely at me, her golden eyes no longer calm as the sea. They were dark with rage and her beautiful facial countenance was distorted in a way I had never seen before. Her tail flickered fitfully as she listened to me blurt my profanities. I was fully aware she was capable of killing me right there but I really didn’t care.

Although, she had been the fount of my wealth and influential status as one of the nation’s most prominent ministers. My congregation had continuously swollen every year. The vast majority were ignorant of the source of my controversial yet effective healing and prophetic abilities. They flocked in great numbers to the church’s camp ground situated in the out-skirts of the city. I developed the large expanse of land into a spiritual mini-city where multitudes came in search of miracles to their endless conceited wishes. Indeed a selective number got answers and by their testimonies, the not-so-lucky majority remained faithfully rooted, waiting for their turn. My charismatic grace and in-depth knowledge of the bible in relation to the human psyche was a sensational plus. But without the ultimate aid I got from the dark watery coven of Cuda, there was no way I could have been where I was.

“Ingrate!!” the sound of the furious mermaid hauled me back into consciousness of my aquatic surroundings. Her eyes were burning like the fires of hell. As she spoke, the gold scales of her lower body shimmered in the tremulous waves and she floated effortlessly around me.
“Listen to yourself Samuel. You weep for your earthly wife now do you? Or you weep knowing that your end is near? You should be more terrified of your imminent downfall and how you’d spend your time in your eternal abode with the devil. What trifle you have to pay for all these years you spent in grandeur, respected home and abroad. You are friends with the most prominent and influential people alive. They kneel before you while you shamelessly lay your hands upon them. You have whatever you want and secretly sleep with choicest female members of your church. For a ‘man of God’, you are so pathetic” she paused and came close me. For the first time since almost thirty years her closeness was frightening “Samuel Atiba, you lead millions to damnation every day. Your wife is dead and is probably damned forever because of your folly. Isn’t it fair that you partake of the eternal calamity in which you so deviously lead these foolish ones?” I shuddered inwardly.

Despite my resolve to maintain an unshaken countenance, her piercing glare seemed to pierce through me. I had a legitimate feeling she could see my soul and suddenly, I became terrified. I had to throw in a last attempt at justification.
“But why Cuda? I’ve made a monumental mistake by breaking the regulations of my covenant with you by desiring to have a child with my wife Mojisola. But is that enough reason to kill her, an innocent soul? How long did you think I would endure childlessness? A fruitless man of God attracts mockery of the public! My congregation had started to nestle suspicious ideas. My wife was always restless. So I did the forbidden. What else could I have done? I don’t deserve the castigation you dole me.” I cried indignantly.

Yemoja Cuda softened at my remarks “Hmmm... of a truth, I liked you the very first time I saw you crying like a little child upon the shores of these waters twenty-eight years ago. I was stirred to help you out of the misery your vain world had overwhelmed you with. Yours was easy. Poverty and the insatiable lust for riches and fame. You had a good knowledge of the bible and how to manipulate your kind according to what is therein. You had nothing else in the world, not even the wife you shamelessly weep for now. We helped you by means beyond your world’s comprehension and brought you into limelight. But you violated our precepts not to ever bear children of earthly women. Your attempted treachery cost you dearly”

I wasn’t very surprised she knew of my how I had secretly sought other mystical powers in order to activate my wife’s womb and bear a child secretly. It was open now and there was nothing to hide. I wasn’t so surprised. Her next statement was what held me aghast.

“However, I have a secret of my own. You have children of my kind, with me and the other mermaids you were having secret affairs with. Unlike you humans, we are not selfishly conceited as you are. We cheerfully share our loved ones freely. Yes... most of the pretty girls you slept with in your church are my maids. Your promiscuity is ridiculous Samuel. But we keep our own, unlike the angels of heaven who forcefully slept with earthly women and shamefully disappeared back into the clouds, we keep our own.” I was still in confusion at all this until the waters rippled around me and I knew we weren’t alone anymore.
“Look at your children Samuel” and as if by some magical theatrics, eight sea beings swam toward me, seven mermaids and one bare-chested merman who mirrored all my physical features. The resemblance was startling. He looked at me defiantly as he came toward me...closer... closer... he was so close that our noses almost touched. My high clean-shaven head, my high cheek bones, my neatly trimmed beard, it was like staring into a mirror. I looked away quickly. How could I ever explain this? That I had crossed the boundaries of humankind and had produced these... fishes! It was unbelievable. It was a taboo that carried extreme implications for a man of influence as me.

“You don’t seem very proud to be affiliated with our kind are you” he said to me. My voice! I was completely bowled over.
“Who are you?” I whispered almost inaudibly.
“I am you” he said and instantly transfigured completely into my very appearance. His lower fish-like body had become legs and he stood before me wearing the same agbada as I did.
He laughed in scorn “I have done so many things as you ‘father’. I carry your exact genes, thumbprint, gait, grace everything. I’ve done a whole lot in your name, as you that is why you have memories of places and doing things you have personally never done before. I am you, but so unlike you. My allegiance is with Yemoja Cuda. I carry out her instructions. All I have done for you-as you, has been of great benefit to you but like mother said, you are an ingrate. The Yemoja plotted your downfall and I perfected it. With your looks, I... or should I say, YOU stabbed your wife to death this evening after your seminar.”

Their horrific laughter rang in my ears so loud that it hurt; I wasn’t sure which hurt more, the reverberating sound of thunders, the raging waves or the piercing siren I heard in the distance. I opened my eyes to the rolling blue and red lights of police sirens and saw uniformed men run toward me. Others secured the car I parked in the distance. They must have traced Mojisola’s car all the way here. I felt a thick cloud shroud my thoughts. The handcuffs must have snapped tight around my wrists before I burst into insane laughter.

<<<<Submission Ends>>>>>>

Scores coming up shortly...

The storm foretold - Ms_fibre
Content:- 8.5
Organization:- 7
Illustration:- 9
Total=» 24.5

Night Visitor - Royver
Content:- 6.5
Organization:- 7
Illustration:- 10
Total=» 22.5

The death I forged myself- Oma4u
Content:- 6
Organization:- 5.5
Illustration:- 8
Total=» 19.5

Lost Love - Nuges11
Content: 9.5
Organization:- 8.5
Illustration: 10
Total=»28

The wages of sin -t-flow
Content:- 7.5
Organization:- 7
Illustration: 8.5
Total=» 23

---

The storm foretold - Ms_fibre
Content:- 7
Organization:- 4
Illustration:- 8
Total=» 19

---

Night Visitor - Royver
Content:- 10
Organization:- 10
Illustration:- 10
Total=» 30

---

The death I forged myself- Oma4u
Content:- 6
Organization:- 5
Illustration:- 7
Total=» 18

---

Lost Love - Nuges11
Content: 10
Organization:- 10
Illustration: 10
Total=»30

---

The wages of sin -t-flow
Content:- 9
Organization:- 7
Illustration: 8.5
Total=» 24.5

Ms. Fibre - The Storm Foretold

Content: 7.0

Organization: 6.5

Illustration: 7.5

Total = 21.0

**********************

Royver - Night Visitor

Content: 9.5

Organization: 9.0

Illustration: 10.0

Total = 28.5

**********************

Oma4U - The Death I forged Myself

Content: 5.5

Organization: 6.0

Illustration: 5.0

Total = 16.5

**********************

Nuges11 - Lost Love

Content: 10.0

Organization: 10.0

Illustration: 10.0

Total = 30.0

**********************

T-Flow - The Wages of Sin

Content: 9.0

Organization: 9.0

Illustration: 9.0

Total = 27.0

**********************

THE STORM FORETOLD : MISS FIBRE.

Lovely plot, I'm sure that mall massacre in Kenya was an inspiration. Okay, was it just me or was the opening paragraph quite 'exagerated'? (for lack of a better word). It gave an impression of a different kind of story and not the story you told.

We expected it, waited and watched the horizon just to catch a glimpse of it. Prophets came out, prophesied and gave us dates. The dates came and went by with nothing, not even the slightest incident. The sky remained blue, with dust floating its surface instead of clouds. The cold of the harmattan had already begun to take its toll, making us stay inside more.

It sounded like the people were expecting some kind of biblical plague, the rapture or a 'Nuking'. That paragraph didnt relate to the story too well. I think the second paragraph would have made a better opening.

Lets take a quick look at some mistakes you made....
The best thing to do is to divide the country. Let the north stay on its own and the south on their own 'Let North and South break apart' would have been better but that's a minor thing sha, I'm sure you would have noticed it if you'd gone through again.

“Ah ah, why is your mood like this Jonathan? Are you the only person that had not heard the news?” Lloyd asked. (Has)

He laughed softly, hailed me once more and dropped the call. I looked at my phone shaking my head. Today was really going to be a long day. Lloyd calling for the first time without stating his reason for calling is bad enough. (Was)

The first time I read this story I noticed that there were a lot of had's instead of has, I pointed this out on the other thread, I see you made corrections but missed these.

We were packed together in the AC room of my office. Air conditioned room of my office would've been better.

There was no key in the lock of the door and the air conditioner was making lots of noise. But there was no power supply, so the AC couldnt be on.


Okay, at the conclusion, you said there'd been a civil war....I thought it was quite abrupt, going from the office shootout to the civil war. It could have been better summarised. Also we didnt know how long the civil war had lasted. I think the story was a bit disjointed. You have good narration abilities but let your stories flow together better. Hope you understand what I mean.

You should join the incidences together, like.... how long after the first paragraph where they were expecting what was prophesied till the second when they had that meeting? How long after did the President give his resignation speech till how long after the V.P was assasinated?

I remember that night vividly like it is still playing out in front of my eyes. I had sat in front of my TV, watching the proceedings of the National Conference to see the outcome. Lawmakers had debated back and forth, issues were raised, accusations made. You could feel the tense air emanating from the conference room through the TV. My heartbeat only came after every ten seconds, delaying my breaths. Since I was living alone, there was no one to share that tense moment with.

and then....

I was clothed already, my briefcase on the low table that adorned the middle of my room. As it is with my morning ritual, I make sure I watch the 7:00am broadcast of the National news. Today was no different but the sudden resignation of the president made a big difference.

I'm guessing these happened on different days but it seemed like the same day. You could have used 'a few days later' at the beginning of your sentence.

Also after you left for the office, you went back to the president stepping off the podium scene again.....I thought you had watched that on TV last night? It should have come before you left for work.

In summary.....watch how you put your scenes, it should follow in sequence, I was quite confused the first time i read it, I had to read it again carefully to get this out.

Now on to the assassination of the VP, I don't think we had to get the assasin's view of it......but thats just me sha, someone else might think differently.

Next is the office scene again, as usual, no reference made to time. How long after the assasination did this happen? Infact did the assasination happen on the same day the President resigned?

Anyway, to avoid going around the same thing, I'll stop here because by now you should get what I'm talking about. Good job, I could tell you put great thought into this....sometimes a story threatens to be overwhelming but you've got to tame it, you're the writer, it has to obey you....Good work.


NIGHT VISITOR- ROYVER

This story was good, interesting, I loved the imagination behind it although I didnt like it as much as your first. In your previous story, you gave us a lot of backstory of your main characters, that helped us relate with them, but in this one, I dont know much about either characters, I think you should have talked about them, or was your story rushed?

You have great writing skills, just mind that, romance makes better impact on readers when you can feel your characters emotions and this is achieved by knowing the characters well enough. I get that the girl is an orphan, you could have talked about how she'd lost her parents, siblings, maybe none of the family members wanted to take care of her and she was finally glad to have found someone who loved her for who she was.... some one who was ready to be her protector.

As for the angel guy, a little background info on him would have been so much welcome, how he'd been so lonely until he'd met her.....and then how mogomir had found out about the relationship, the whole thing just seemed hurried somehow, or werent you inspired enough?

I dont have much else to add here, you're good but the story....to me....felt quite empty and short !

THE DEATH I FORGED MYSELF- OMA4U

Okay, OMA, this story took a nose dive when compared to your first one.....maybe you should stick with epic tales? I dont know....but this didnt really feel like that regal story I read before. You changed your style....too much.

Also I thought there were too many co incidences in the story, Haba! , its not bad to run wild with your imagination o but then....yours went a little too far off. First your dream came to pass exactly as you'd dreamt it, then your story for the competition and its characters played out in real life exactly as you'd written it, and then your neighbour and assasin happened to be twins?....Really? It was just too many coincidences in one story....this is just what 'me' thinks sha, others might feel differently.

Also some sentences could have been ignored.....it made the story prolong unnecessarily. A little spelling and grammar error here and there.

All in all, good work OMA, dont struggle to impress, just go with the flow and figure out a style that you enjoy and that works best for you.

********

LOST LOVE- NUGES 11

Awwwwwwww , such a sad tale. I didnt see that coming at all....and it was a round about turn from your first story....well done! I had you pegged for a comic writer but you stunned me by going tragic..... Well done again! A story well told. I have nothing much to say....just so impressed how you switched genres....I have a feeling you could write anything you put your mind to. Great work!

Good background on the characters, a steady structure, I didn't notice grammatic errors, maybe there are sha....the sharp eyes will fish them out but great work. I'm in love.....with your work, so dont get any ideas.

THE WAGES OF SIN -T- Flow

I had wanted to deduct points for late submission but ....wow, Teee, you dey flow, no be lie. I loved this!....So, I decided to let it go.

I couldnt pick a favourite from yours and Nuges. Theres just something about your story...yours and his, you guys impacted me. I felt for your characters, and that comes with good character development or background story as I like to call it. Great job, Tee.

I wont say much here, the story was really good.

Scores:

* clears throat*

Names Content Oragnization Illustration Total

Miss fibre 7 5 7 19

Royver 6 6 8 20

OMA 5 7 7 19

NUGES11 8 8 8 24

TFLOW 8 8 8 24

I'm sorry but I have a tie between NUGES and TFLOW.

Great stories. I am not feeling too well so I don't have the energy to give detailed analyses.

Nuges, I think 'The Proposal' will be a more apt title for your story, but it's your call.

I hate mathematics so I will just skip the breakdown and drop my final scores.

Miss Fibre- 21

Royver- 22

Oma4U- 17

Nuges11-24

T-flow- 29

Once again, well done guys

The storm foretold - Ms_fibre
Content:- 9
Organization:- 7
Illustration:- 8
Total = 24


Night Visitor - Royver
Content:- 9
Organization:- 8
Illustration:- 8
Total= 25

The death I forged myself- Oma4u
Content:- 7
Organization:- 7
Illustration:- 8
Total=» 22

Lost Love - Nuges11
Content: 10
Organization:- 9
Illustration: 9
Total= 28

The wages of sin -t-flow
Content:- 9
Organization:- 8
Illustration: 9
Total=» 26

The storm foretold - Ms_fibre
Content:- 8
Organization:- 7
Illustration:- 9
Total=» 24
Night Visitor - Royver
Content:- 9.5
Organization:- 10
Illustration:- 10
Total=» 29.5
The death I forged myself- Oma4u
Content:- 6
Organization:- 6.5
Illustration:- 7
Total=» 19.5
Lost Love - Nuges11
Content: 9
Organization:- 9
Illustration: 9
Total=»27
The wages of sin -t-flow
Content:- 7
Organization:- 7
Illustration: 8
Total=» 22

Result collation ongoing:-

Results to be announced later...

Stay tuned.

Final Result

1.Nudges11 - 221 points

First position, and winner of MTN 1,500 Recharge card; with his award winning story racking up highest points in all available criteria:

2. Royver - 203.5 points

Second position; winner of MTN 750 recharge card:

3. T-flow - 202.5 points

Third position; winner of MTN 400 recharge card; seated deep on the second position until the final judge submitted his scores and shattered his dreams;

The Blame Switch!!! https://www.nairaland.com/1474996/blame-switch-short-story

Mazi_Omenuko: Final Result

1.Nudges11 - 221 points

First position, and winner of MTN 1,500 Recharge card; with his award winning story racking up highest points in all available criteria:

2. Royver - 203.5 points

Second position; winner of MTN 750 recharge card:

3. T-flow - 202.5 points

Third position; winner of MTN 400 recharge card; seated deep on the second position until the final judge submitted his scores and shattered his dreams;

Ah! I see I'm late on the good news here!

Congratulations to the winners and all the contestants for participating AND well done to Mazi for this idea of his and the judges who worked hard on this. We're all winners here!

Ok. Ok. I'm here

wow! I never knew such a tremendous thread like this is in existence on nairaland , I'm a big fan of this site over 4 years now. my spirit must be sorry for me to have missed a lot on this thread.
Well, I congratulate the winner and appreciate the prowess of all participant. you all did a great job, you are all winner. lastly, my sincere gratitude goes to the initiator and judges. you guys are so wonderful.
please, I seek your general indulgence to use this opportunity to invite you to our writers group page on Facebook, "360PEN PUSHERS" where young writers meet, to share ideas, help each other in our writing skills, connect each other to publishers that can help get our work published and render unconditional assistance to any member, to ensure he/ her work win laurel that will be laudable for this group.
Note: the group is an outcome of the just conclude Lagos book and art festival LABAF. Where I took a volunteer role and was opportuned to work in the office of prof. wole Soyinka and as such met with great writers that have won laurels including the winner of 2013 NLNG prize for literature Trade ipadeola and the past and present Caine prise for Africa writers award.
we young writer that were present held meeting at the closing day of the event and came out with this idea. please if you are interested, you can simply like the page, then you are automatic member.
thanks.

Royver:
The Haunted Road
(2,094 words)
By ROYVER

T. [/b]

Is it possible to use this on my blog Mr Royver. Is there anyway I can contact you so we talk about it?

Gmekx:


Is it possible to use this on my blog Mr Royver. Is there anyway I can contact you so we talk about it?

As long as you tag and mention me, no problem.