For The Rotary

My name is Halimah. I was born into a polygamous home; my father married eight wives who gave him more than enough children he could take care of. My mother was the third wife, she alone gave birth to four children, and it would surprise you to know that she was the wife with the least number of children. It would seem strange but I was the twelfth out of the forty-eight children my children my father fathered.

Poverty was our way of life. Father had inherited his grandfather's house and there he packed us all like sardines while he lived his own life somewhere else. Every mother had to work hard to take care of her children. My mother planted and sold vegetables to feed her children.

When she gave birth to me, it was not a thing of joy. Indeed, Father was not around when I was named. After two years, my mother was called a witch because I grew with a deformed limb; one of my legs was bent askew. While my mother was called a witch by the other wives, my mother in turn called them witches for crippling her daughter with sorcery.

That was what I thought as I grew up until I learned the truth in the public school I attended. No one caused my condition with witchcraft; I have polio. And I have it because my parents were ignorant. They were uneducated and saw no reason for giving me any vaccine.

Now, although I am deformed, I have sworn that I would not let another innocent child be like me. I have started educating the parents in my neighbourhood about the importance of giving their children anti-polio vaccination.

Joining Rotary Club has made my job easier. We are dedicated to making the world polio-free.

Strange things happen. It depends on whether you believe them or not. Oblige me to tell you about my own strange experience. Some of you may believe it, others might dismiss it as a mere propaganda. Whether it's the truth or not, it is left for your judgement.

My name is Jaja. Twenty-one years ago, when I was only ten years old, I was involved in an accident. I was travelling with my parents when a truck from nowhere ram into our car. All I knew before I lost consciousness was that something very heavy crushed the left side of my face. But I woke up in my room later without a scratch on me. Even my parents were fine. It was just as if the accident never occurred; not even my parents talked about it. But I knew for sure that the accident did occur.

Now twenty-one years later on April 12th, I was walking down the quiet and seemingly deserted street of my area to purchase some beans cakes when a young boy of about ten years old walked up to me. The boy was bloody, the left side of his face was dented in and blood gushed out of the wound. Even his left eye was crushed into the inner socket.

He said one sentence to me before he walked away and disappeared into the wind, "You and your parents will be dead in a motor accident in twenty-one years' time."

The wind blew heavily. There was a splitting headache in my head. I felt like I was in a conduit between the world of the living and the dead. It was very obvious, the boy who approached me was me from the past. He was wearing the same clothes I wore during the accident of twenty-one years ago. He was a ghost. He was a ghost of me.

LSD
April, 2017

True Stupidity

I had just moved down to Ikorodu from Sango August last year. I was alone quietly at work when my old secondary school friend, Ibrahim, called me (only God knows how he got my number) and told me that Chimezie, our landlord's fourth son would be having the naming ceremony of his first child the following day. The silly Ibrahim sugar-coated everything, saying Chimezie was now very wealthy and the ceremony would be the talk of the town for two big cows had already been killed and more cows had boarded a bus from abattoir. I was so excited. My excitement trebled when Ndubuisi, the immediate elder brother of the new father, asked me which kind of 'olosho' should be kept for me.

I was breathing hard as I pictured the adventure I would have. For the first time in my life, I would be serviced by call-girls. I screamed at the top of my voice that two ladies with big endowments should be reserved for me. I was already seeing myself in paradise as I imagined a hot party that awaited me.

The next day, I took a false leave from work and jumped in the next available bus leaving Ikorodu for Oshodi; and from Oshodi, I took another one to Ijaye, my old area. I was so excited. I wished I could just fly. I eventually arrived at the venue at around 4pm. The first thing that caught me as strange was the fact that I saw just two canopies. Two canopies! I had thought the whole street would be filled with tents, considering the wealth of someone who had just returned from Dubai for his child's naming ceremony. The guests were not more than sixty or sixty-one. Fear gripped my heart. I searched around for any evidence of cows, there was nothing like that. I almost searched the toilets, but something told me they would not keep cows in the toilets. What if the guests wanted to take a leak?

I was overcome with fear. I decided to seek out the idiot who called me and fed me different stories. I was sure he would explain better what was going on. I found him under a plantain tree smoking weed and drinking something that had been mixed with Codeine or Gamalin 20, I don't know. Ibrahim was as stoned as the biblical Stephen. He was not in the right state of mind to tell me what had happened to the cows. Hell, I gave up on him when he started calling me Adekunle Gold.

I decided that the next course of action was to find Chimezie and his brother. I eventually saw the brother. He was so excited to see me. He hugged me tight, introduced me to his friends, then he proceeded to tax me. What the hell? I was hearing 'at all at all na him bad'. He was urging me to drop something for the boys. The 'boys' he was referring to were men in their late forties. I had to drop about a thousand naira before the 'boys' released me. They were ready to beat the country's recession out of me.

I managed to take Ndubuisi aside and asked him about the two 'oloshos' he had reserved for me. He looked at me for what seemed like eternity, as if I had asked the world's most ridiculous question. Then he started preaching to me to give my life to Christ. Yes, Ndubuisi, Ndubuisi of all people, told me to give my life to Christ. For a moment, I wondered if one witch from my mother's village had carved out an effigy of me and was now defecating on it. What had I dragged myself into?

I decided to go and sit among the rest of the frustrated guests, hoping that we would be served. We were served quite alright...with toothpicks. I collected my own stick of toothpick with the expectation that food would be arriving soon. It didn't take long before the 'menu-menu' arrived, just four hours' time. I couldn’t even find my toothpick anymore, and while the other guests were being served some miserable plates of rice whose meat had to be seen with the aid of a microscope, one evil spirit was causing the servers to serve everyone around me minus me. One even had the guts to give me a plate of food to pass to the person sitting behind me. I wanted to keep the food for myself but on seeing the angry face of the gentlehulk behind me, I calmly performed my civic duty. I had no choice but to be my brother's keeper.

I was still waiting for my food about an hour later when everyone had left and the plates were washed. I admit, I shed tears. As I went back to Ikorodu that night, I made a vow that I would revenge. The baby was a girl. I vowed that in the next twenty years when the girl would be getting married, I would attend and reveal to everyone how I had been maltreated during the bride's naming ceremony.

Obviously, revenge isn't a virtue, because two days after that event, I was robbed of my phone and money in Oshodi.

LSD
February, 2017

LarrySun, you are the real g, the complete package....permit me to say this, it doesn't matter how many books a person has read, if they have not read at least one of your books, they have not read anything at all....

The Loose End

The four men grabbed her at the junction and took her to the warehouse. Her name was Ada.

Beckley was one of the kidnappers. He had just joined the gang but he needed to prove to The Boss that he was worthy. But the moment he saw Ada, he knew he would not allow her to be killed.

The Boss was a psychopath; he enjoyed killing. He would kill off his victims after the ransom had been paid.

"Tying up loose ends," The Boss would always say.

Beckley rose up in the middle of the night when everyone was asleep and stole into the room where Ada was kept.

Ada watched as he walked towards her and released the gag from her mouth.

"If you do exactly as I say, you will walk out of here alive." He loosened the ropes that tied her hands.

He led her out of the building to where he had parked the car. They both got in and they drove off.

"Please give me your phone, let me call my dad."

Beckley drove all night long. He was taking Ada to her father.

They arrived at the location the following morning. He was shocked to see The Boss waiting for them at the exact address Ada had told him.

As he got out of the car, The Boss said only four words: "You are not worthy."

It had all been a test. He was the loose end. He was shot by the same woman he rescued.

Larry Sun,
January 2020

LarrySun:
The Loose End

The four men grabbed her at the junction and took her to the warehouse. Her name was Ada.

Beckley was one of the kidnappers. He had just joined the gang but he needed to prove to The Boss that he was worthy. But the moment he saw Ada, he knew he would not allow her to be killed.

The Boss was a psychopath; he enjoyed killing. He would kill off his victims after the ransom had been paid.

"Tying up loose ends," The Boss would always say.

Beckley rose up in the middle of the night when everyone was asleep and stole into the room where Ada was kept.

Ada watched as he walked towards her and released the gag from her mouth.

"If you do exactly as I say, you will walk out of here alive." He loosened the ropes that tied her hands.

He led her out of the building to where he had parked the car. They both got in and they drove off.

"Please give me your phone, let me call my dad."

Beckley drove all night long. He was taking Ada to her father.

They arrived at the location the following morning. He was shocked to see The Boss waiting for them at the exact address Ada had told him.

As he got out of the car, The Boss said only four words: "You are not worthy."

It had all been a test. He was the loose end. He was shot by the same woman he rescued.

Gosh, what tale...if only he knew it was just a test

The Abomination of Abortion

Papa Ngozi had been sleeping with his daughter since the day he noticed that she had started bleeding. Each night when the girl slept, he would creep into her room, cover her mouth with one of his strong hands and force himself into her.

This abomination continued to go on for two years until the child became pregnant.

"Papa, I have not seen my blood since the past two full moons," Ngozi had confessed that night when her father came again.

Papa Ada knew his daughter was pregnant - she was carrying his baby, but this news did not stop him from having his way with her that night.

"I will take you to Ogbuefi by dawn," the man had said after another incestuous round.

He was not moved about the situation. He trusted in the professionalism of Ogbuefi, one of the village's foremost occult herbalists.

Early the following morning, Papa Ngozi took his daughter to the native doctor. She had been made to wait in the shed while her father spoke with the man. About an hour later, Papa Ngozi left the herbalist's shrine with his daughter and a black powder which he forced her to take with palm oil as soon as they got home.

And so the sexual intercourse between father and daughter resumed in earnest. Ngozi, a naive thirteen year old, was uncomfortable about her own father gaining access between her legs every night but was too scared to resist the man whose wrath usually left her battered and bruised. She had once told the villagers what had been happening but no one seemed to believe her.

Ngozi's stomach continued to rise with each passing moon. The villagers noticed the bulge but they didn't mind. To them, what was going on was not an uncommon happenstance.

After the seventh full moon, Papa took the girl back to Ogbuefi just as the native doctor had instructed. This time around, the poor child was tied down in the shrine and Ogbuefi started working on her.

While Papa Ngozi held down his daughter, Ogbuefi was cutting through her with various sharp objects. The sands of an hourglass was nearly empty when the native doctor finally brought the developing child out of the girl. Although a human had been formed already, but it was dead and bloody.

A concoction was prepared with the dead child and given to the father. At home, Ngozi watched in horror as her father ate her baby, his child - his grandchild.

That same night, even though Ngozi was still sore, he had his way with her again.

The girl could bear this no further. Early the following morning, she left the house. It was late in the night when a hunter found her dead body hanging from a forest tree.

Although Papa Ngozi eventually won the chieftaincy title he wanted so dearly, all the villagers suffered for the abomination that occurred in the land - the abomination of abortion, not of incest.


LSD

February, 2020

Vengeance

Many years ago, when I was only ten years old, something I would never forget happened. I grew up under my father's care. I never knew my mother. It was only the two of us - and we were homeless. We always moved around and slept wherever dusk caught up with us.

That particular night, I was lying down sick in an abandoned shed while my father went out to search for drugs for me. I saw everything that happened next clearly. Black Maria suddenly pulled over close to where I was. It was dark, so no one saw me.

I watched as one particular police officer, Inspector Danjuma, released the prisoner in the van. The released man crossed the railway to the other side and disappeared out of sight.

About a minute later, my dad surfaced. Inspector Danjuma and other policemen grabbed him and put him in the van.

That was the last I saw of my father.

As I grew up alone in the street, it occurred to me what had happened. My innocent father had been taken to replace a convicted criminal.

And so without a father and no means of livelihood, I became a thief, but I continued searching for the dirty police officer.

I found him last year. He was still corrupt.

"I need a gun," I told him.

"I take forty percent of whatever you make," he responded immediately.

"No qualms."

The following night, he left his gun for me in a condemned car somewhere deserted.

That same night, I broke into Inspector Danjuma's house. He was on night duty, but his wife and two kids were home.

After robbing the house clean, I shot his wife and kids. Then I left the gun there.

He had taken my family from me. Well, I returned the favour.

The next morning, Inspector Danjuma was arrested for killing his family. The weapon used was his gun.

Unbroken

"What's the password?" the torturer slapped Ken Bonru across the face.

The victim was barely conscious. He had been beaten to an inch of his life. But he managed to mumble a faint reply. "I don't know."

The leader of the gang standing at the corner of the room dropped his half-smoked cigarette and stubbed it out with his massive boot. Then he calmly walked towards Steve who sat withered in the chair. He would have fallen off had he not been held him place with ropes that dug deep into his skin.

"Everyone breaks eventually," said Bruno, a faint puff of smoke escaped from his breath as he spoke. "It's only a matter of time before you give us what we want. How much pain do you think you can take?"

"Boss," the subordinate stepped forward. "We have only a few minutes left. If we don't have the password, we won't be able to transfer the money."

Bruno turned to Ken again and said, "Do you want to die? We know you have the password. Stop messing around and tell us the password right now. Do you want to die like your partner? Before he died, he mentioned your name. He told us you know the password."

"Time is up, boss."

" He's not going to tell us anything," Bruno said as he placed his pistol on the boy's head and pulled the trigger.

"He didn't break, boss."

"He didn't. His partner told me he's unbroken but I didn't believe him."

As they walked away, they didn't know they had the password all along. The password was UNBROKEN. Ken Bonru was the password - the password was formed from his name: KEN BONRU.

May 2020

Dope bro

LarrySun:
Another Chronicle of Gbenga


He named one ‘Pastor Adeboye’s Sermon’, and for a long time, we thought Pastor Adeboye was a porn star. We used to think a lot of other popular preachers were into pornography.

To be continued…

Larry Sun, 2017

The last paragraph made me laugh so hard.

Wow.. I didn't know something like this was here until yesterday..It was an interesting read..

BRAVO LARRYSUN..

EkopSparoAyara:
Wow.. I didn't know something like this was here until yesterday..It was an interesting read..

BRAVO LARRYSUN..

Thanks, bro.

Rape

Afua was molested by her uncle two days before she turned fifteen. That afternoon when her mother had gone to the farm, Uncle Kofi had broken into her room and had had his way with her. Afua had tried to fight him off, but the man had been too powerful.

"Don't worry, I'll be gentle," the cruel man had said with a smirk.

When Mama returned from the market, Afua told her what had happened, her mother gave her a resounding slap.

"Don't ever say that again!" she had thundered, "Nobody must hear these words from you! Our family is the most respectable in the village. Do not soil our name with your allegations!"

So Uncle Kofi continued to sexually assault her. Afua always fought back but still was no match for the monster. A year passed and Afua needed to leave the village for the city.

Now ten years had gone by but the trauma was still fresh. It was Afua's wedding night.

"It's time to consummate our marriage, Afua," Jackson, the groom, had said and had begun to UnCloth.

"No!" Afua screamed at seeing his unclothedness.

Jackson smiled and said, "Don't worry, I'll be gentle." He reached for her on the bed and started to pull her panties aside.

"I said No!" Afua screamed again but Jackson wasn't listening.

Afua, in desperation, reached for the bedside table and grabbed the small fruit knife. She stabbed her husband in the neck just as he was entering her.

Blood gushed from his neck, his eyes almost popped out of their sockets!

"Afua!" he said shockingly and gagged in his own blood. Then he collapsed dead.

When the police came for Afua, she kept repeating one statement:

"My No is No!"

I wonder how some parents can be so careless even when the child complains.. Instead of listening to the cries of their daughter, they will rather shut them up and allow them to go through such act of cruelty in the name of preserving family names..
This children grow up to detest the opposite sex,they become hostile and violent with the opposite sex and in some cases they become chronic nymphomaniacs..

Rape is not the best.. Take her no for no..

#SayNoToRape
#SayYesToConsensualSex

BRAVO LARRYSUN..

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Guys, click on the link to vote for LarrySun as the best writer in this year's Nairaland writer's award..
Let's show him love and support,we can do this..

#TeamLarrysun