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Stats: 2,210,392 members, 4,824,425 topics. Date: Wednesday, 20 March 2019 at 10:26 AM
|Re: VICTIMS- Fiction by Smith06: 12:02pm On Feb 11|
Rosemary33:Take as much time as you need
|Re: VICTIMS- Fiction by skubido(m): 7:13pm On Feb 11|
Tanks a lot, u too much..
|Re: VICTIMS- Fiction by Reflex01(m): 10:31pm On Feb 11|
Tanx for the update. Take ur time and give papa his respect before he's laid down. My condolence to u and the whole family
|Re: VICTIMS- Fiction by PrudySara(f): 11:44am On Feb 13|
Thanks for the update...my condolences to your family..take your time.
|Re: VICTIMS- Fiction by rukidanty: 10:39pm On Feb 16|
thanks for your great work..keep it up..my condolences
|Re: VICTIMS- Fiction by Rosemary33: 3:46pm On Feb 19|
It was easy for him to take her without drawing the attentions of passers-by. The city has started regaining its usual day to day hustle and most people were beginning to relax on their security consciousness.
He had honked and beckoned on her to come closer, at first he thought she wouldn’t come as she hesitated, but when she finally placed a step before another, he knew this would be his lucky day.
The young officer had employed the help of two more men, he didn’t want to leave anything to chance, one of the men stepped down from the back seat when the girl drew near and before Ifeoluwa could realize the horror she placed herself in, she was already going with them in the gray Honda Civic, with her mouth stuffed with a piece of rag and sealed with a mastic tape.
His heart was exploding with joy and desire, seeing her wiggle like a fish out of water aroused him, he couldn’t wait to get the quiet ceremony done with and have her spread like Jam on his little bed; the bed was small he knew, not enough for him to do all he had dreamt of doing to her, he could make use of the floor, all he needed was to get more poles.
Imam Husayn had told him that the best thing to do was to marry the girl, he had not thought of it before but that wouldn’t be a bad idea, knowing he would be able to do anything he wished with her without drawing any attention from others while she screamed; he loved it when she screams. He looked at her from the rear Mirror, she had stopped fighting and had coiled herself like a little snake, he knew she had not recognized him yet, but he would make her known he was, in his own beautiful and horrible way.
Ukwuoma came back and met no one at home, it was one of those days she had to echo words uncountable times before the kids could spell it.
“Salaam” she greeted the two women seated by the tap that had never run since she moved into that compound with Tunde and the kids
“Salaam” the responded
Uwa musa has been avoiding her since the day her husband turned Ife away without food, though Ukwuoma had tried to make her feel at ease but she would always turn her face away when responding to Ukwuoma’s greetings, probably out of shame or guilt.
With Ogugua tugging her skirt and whining, she pushed her door open and roughly pulled the boy inside. The boy had refused to be dragged away from his friends whom were playing with him behind the school dilapidated toilet.
She met Ife absent and the food she kept for the girl untouched. She called out for her but her voice bounced back at her. Ogugua was beginning to increase his whining to loud protesting crying, out of Anger and frustration, she shoved him off her back, he landed on the floor with his buttocks and released the wail that was building up like a balloon filled with water.
The girl has never left the house without Ukwuoma knowing, no matter how much Ukwuoma wanted to calm down, she couldn’t;
“Kin ka gan mu yar na? (Did you see my daughter)” Ukwuoma asked one of her neighbors
“A a! Ban gan ta ba tun da safe (I saw her in the morning)” the woman responded, licking some Kunu that was running from her fingers to her elbow, she smacked the tip of her tongue and her lips together, tilting her head one side to savor the Kunu taste before scooping some and offered to Ukwuoma
Ukwuoma would have said ‘NO’ on a normal day, but that day wasn’t a normal day. In fact, no day has been a normal one since the day she lost everything. That was why even with the little girl defecating beside the woman and a whole village of flies having a feast from the poop to the Kunu, she found herself accepting the cup of Kunu;
“Na gode (Thank you)” she said and walked back inside the house.
She would give the drink to Ogugua while they save the little food remaining for dinner. When the boy finally slept off, she sat on her husband’s favorite chair and waited with fury and worry for the Girl who may never return.
It was already Night by the time Issa brought his new wife home. It has been a long day which he thought would never end. He had paid little attention to the Hadith being read by Imam Husayn as he fantasized throughout the ceremony;
“…By Allah! Among all of you I am the most God fearing, and among you all, I am the super most to save myself from the wrath of Allah…”
Issa looked at the frightful girl that would soon become his, a crooked smile formed at the corner of his lips, this would be his happiest moment, he desired her the more, with her eyes widened and tears trickling down her cheeks, he knew he made the right decision and he would enjoy every part of it;
“…Yet my state is that I observe to sleep too. I observe fast and suspend observing them, I marry women also, and he who turns away from my sunnah has no relation with me” Husayn concluded
Reception was a not a lavished one, Issa watched as Ife was escorted out by the women while he was supposed to dined with the Imam, Ishmila and Yusuf.
It was a torturing three days ceremony for him and when it was over, he couldn’t wait to take his little pet home where he had set the table and the chains like roses in wait for the fragile one.
The girl looked older than fourteen, but that didn’t bother Issa
“We will entertain each other my little puppy”
The girl stood while he walked towards his entrance door, he turned back and dragged her, she whimpered as she stumbled, he held her by the neck and brought her to her feet again before pushing her inside and closed the door behind him.
“Get undressed puppy, I want to see your unclothedness” his speech was slur but Ife could make out little of what he was asking her to do.
The girl hesitated, something about this man frightened her now more than before. Issa lit a cigarette and had a long drag, he blew the smoke on her while he watched her; Off came the HIjab, then the blouse and her long skirt, the girl was wearing nothing underneath “It will be easy for your husband if you have nothing on you” Husayn’s wife had told her. Her body was pale and thin.
“Come over here” Issa commanded
The girl obeyed
“Now this is what I want you to do”
The girl listened and looked up with frightened eyes “Please…I can’t …”
Issa kicked her on the head, she fell back on the floor and screamed. Issa picked her up by the hair and threw her on the little bed, she landed with force and screamed again,
“Yes I want to hear you louder my puppy, I want to see your pain…” he punched her on the face again before he brought out the whip.
The horror in her eyes turned him into a beast, he grinned, glaring his teeth like a wild dog and brought down the whip on her with force.
He watched her jacked her body up and wiggled in pains, she would have jumped out of the bed into the darkness but the chains on her feet and her wrists held her tight. He lashed her again, again and again; her scream hardened him and made his c*ck want to burst into thousand pieces.
When he was done drawing bloody tattoos on her body, he turned her torn flesh over, exposing her back and her little buttocks. He slapped her buttocks heard with his palm before he picked his whip again, flogging till she had no strength left in her.
By the time he held his c*ck and pushed it into her Anus, she was already dancing with emptiness for she neither screamed nor moved.
Evening gave birth to night yet Ife was nowhere to be found. Ukwuoma was getting agitated, she had gone to every possible places to look for the girl but with no positive result;
“no dey worry your sef, she done follow man go…na so them dey do…children of nowadays” Madam Landlady had said casually
Ukwuoma knew things like that do happen, young girls could run away with their lovers, sometimes they may comeback after days, months or even years of fruitless search by their families, Like Maria who ran away with her father’s security guard when they were in secondary school.
Maria had left the house with some of her father’s landed property documents and her mother’s gold jewelries, only to come home with a child and a pregnancy three years later.
Ukwuoma was peering through the window when she heard a knock on her door, he heart skipped and she hurried towards the door with the notion that Ife was back;
“Ada m! (My daughter)”
Ukwuoma stood still looking at the older woman standing in front of her house “Mother!” it came as a loud whisper.
|Re: VICTIMS- Fiction by Rosemary33: 3:47pm On Feb 19|
I am sorry this is coming Late, i came back yesterday. hope i dont lose you guys
|Re: VICTIMS- Fiction by mychiveous(f): 5:21pm On Feb 19|
Welcome back. Thanks for the update.
|Re: VICTIMS- Fiction by PrudySara(f): 10:35pm On Feb 19|
Welcome back Rosy. Hope everything went well? Thanks for the update.
|Re: VICTIMS- Fiction by cuteguy14911: 11:19pm On Feb 19|
God why do evil men live long? Issa why are you a wicked fellow? I hope karma meet with you.
Meanwhile in other news, Rosy dear welcome , thank goodness for journey mercies. Looking forward to plenty updates from you ma .
|Re: VICTIMS- Fiction by Ann2012(f): 7:33am On Feb 20|
Accept my condolences Rosie baby, thank God for journey mercy
Thanks for the update
|Re: VICTIMS- Fiction by rukidanty: 10:06am On Feb 20|
thanks for the update and sorry for your loss..we are here and always waiting for your update because you got a love story here
|Re: VICTIMS- Fiction by Rosemary33: 4:26pm On Feb 20|
Major General Usman sat on his lavishly furnished office drinking locally brewed coffee and refilling his cup at interval.
He just came back from an emergency meeting with the Chief of Army Staff. The country’s security dog was under pressure, the president needed answers and actions from them, likewise the people;
“This is not good for this Organization, we have to restore fate and trust from the citizens or I stand to lose my job…” Lieutenant General Ukachukwu had told the five of them, his eyes flaring red hot.
‘Who cares if you lose your job’ Usman had wanted to say. In fact he would have done a tap dance if the president had disposed of the slowpoke, he was nothing but a big scary pet to the president who barks whenever the president said ‘jump’.
Usman pulled himself up from the chair, kept his thermo flask on top of the little fridge in his office, he pulled out his dirty hanky from his pocket and blew his nose, he gazed at the brown slimy substance that came out of his nose, mashed it together in the hanky before putting it back inside his pocket.
He has been mandated to fish out those involved in the multiple bombing and other attacks, he wished he would have slapped the Buffoon for giving him that task,
“He would have done it himself, why will he always sit there in Abuja while we do the dirty jobs?” Major Makarfi had asked, taking the question out of his own mouth
“An Igbo Man for that Matter, what does he know?”
Usman had listened to the conversation without saying anything, he wasn’t sure yet how many of them were acting like an ear to the Chief.
With his right hand on his hip, he balanced his weight from his right buttocks to the left, he pulled his private phone and dialed the Imam.
Imam Husayn was with some guests when the call came in, it was a Friday and Jumu’ah was over while few faithfuls hung around to receive holy cancelling from him,
When he phone rang continuously, he knew he couldn’t ignore it any longer,
“Allah yi mani jinkiri (Please excuse me)” he said uncoiled his legs, stood up and walked inside his inner chamber.
“Abin da? (What?)”
“Mr President needs results”
“Then give him Results”
“You don’t understand sir…”
“I do understand, you need to show that you are working, if possible some arrests need to be made…”
Usman was shocked, he wasn’t expecting the Imam to know about all these…”How…how did you know this sir?” he asked
“I know things Major…I always know things…I have my ears and eyes everywhere…” Husayn knew he had rattled the Major a little, that was his intention, he deserved to be feared and he enjoyed making them know he was always ahead of them.
“So what do we do sir?”
“Give them what they want…I will make it possible for you to make some arrests but you know nothing should ever happen to them”
“Yes sir…thank you sir”
Husayn gave a smirk, this was going to be fun to watch, the government and the politicians were already playing to his tune. He wiped his face with his palm and unconsciously combed his gray beard with his fingers
“Nothing should ever happen to the boys…except one…” he muttered. The plan was already taking shape.
“I can’t come home mum…I am as good as dead”
They had talked through the night, till there was no Kerosene left in the only lamp she has, they were forced to sleep. Her mother had wanted to know everything that had happened to her, she was surprised that she could retell her ordeal without breaking down, She was even pissed when her mother shed tears periodically.
“Where did you bury them, let me speak to my grandchildren”
She wondered what different it would make, she had never bothered to ask of her grandchildren when they were alive, why now? Why did she want to speak of nothing now?
“There is no life after death” her grandmother had said when the village Ichie died and his wife wanted to kill herself too.
Adaeke would go to her husband’s grave in the night to cry like a cow, calling the name of her dead husband and disturbing her little but sweet sleep; “Umemnaeku o o Umemnaeku” she would moo
Until the day the neighborhood couldn’t take her wailing anymore and the village youths decided to give her what she was looking for; one of the boys had worn a long white gown with white powder poured generously all over him and had waited patiently for the woman behind a plantain tree, Adaeke was never seen around that grave since that day.
“I didn’t bury them, they are with me” Ukwuoma had said to her mother
“What do you mean they are with you?”
Ukwuoma had hesitated before she stood up and felt her way in the darkness to the corner where she left the bag filled with bones and skulls
“Jesus!” Her mother exclaimed as Ukwuoma emptied the bag before her mother
“What Is this?”
“Your son inlaw…and your grandchildren”
Her mother was afraid to look at the bones, she was scared of Ukwuoma and Ukwuoma knew why
“You think I am man mum” Ukwuoma had asked before they went to bed, and her mother said nothing.
The next morning, she left the house early before the day broke, under the harsh dry wind and the many sands forming circles and slapping her face, she walked from street to street in search of Ife, by the time she got back, one could easily pass her for a walking molten Image.
She said little to her mother, but went to the bathroom and allowed the tears to flow, she had lost another child.
“Your father will forgive you when he sees you” Her mother tried again
“I don’t need him to forgive me, I have forgotten about him long ago”
Her mother was shocked to hear her sound that way, but she dropped the topic and continued eating Pap, she glanced at the kid shoving the food hungrily inside his mouth while Ukwuoma watched her, she knew her mother wanted to know about the boy, but she was not ready to explain anything.
Two day later the Nigerian Military announced their breakthrough; more than twenty Men were arrested and linked to the Jos Crisis.
Mallam Kabiru was in his new small apartment a week later eating Tuwo Shinkafa when four men with Army Uniform walked into his compound,
“From the presidency” they had said to him
“What for?” he had asked
“Just for questioning” came the responds
He demanded for a bowel of water to wash his hands but was denied, so he wiped his soiled hand on his white robe and followed the men out, by the time they got to their van, a handcuff was snaked round his wrist and he was pushed inside the van.
He was in Kuje Prison when his picture was flashed on every TV station and his name mentioned on every Media house as the man responsible for the Abuja Twin Bombing.
|Re: VICTIMS- Fiction by cuteguy14911: 5:49pm On Feb 20|
Hahahahahhahahahah I can imagine her screaming away in fear.... Hahahahaha I've pissed on my pants laughing...
|Re: VICTIMS- Fiction by skubido(m): 5:52pm On Feb 20|
|Re: VICTIMS- Fiction by cuteguy14911: 5:53pm On Feb 20|
Wow Now the reality of this fiction is beginning to set in ... God bless you Rosy.. Waiting for more tho
|Re: VICTIMS- Fiction by Ann2012(f): 6:04pm On Feb 20|
Thanks for the update ma'am
I just wish Ife will be free from this torture
|Re: VICTIMS- Fiction by Rosemary33: 9:50pm On Feb 20|
Ann2012:though I write this story but Ife is beginning to become real to me, sometimes I cry after writing her part of the story, I feel every of her pain
|Re: VICTIMS- Fiction by Rosemary33: 9:52pm On Feb 20|
cuteguy14911:thanks Cuteguy, I am getting so attached to this story myself
|Re: VICTIMS- Fiction by Rosemary33: 9:53pm On Feb 20|
|Re: VICTIMS- Fiction by rukidanty: 10:47pm On Feb 20|
thanks for the update but the torture and suffering is too much for ife o.please try and reduce it
|Re: VICTIMS- Fiction by cuteguy14911: 10:58pm On Feb 20|
Hahahahaha, she should reduce it ke? . Okay I get, because Rosy is the original creator abi?
|Re: VICTIMS- Fiction by Rosemary33: 1:42am On Feb 21|
rukidanty:I understand perfectly
|Re: VICTIMS- Fiction by Ann2012(f): 5:26am On Feb 21|
|Re: VICTIMS- Fiction by anneboy02(m): 7:14am On Feb 21|
The imam just created war btw himself and Yusuf
|Re: VICTIMS- Fiction by Smith06: 11:40am On Feb 21|
This is getting more interesting. That imam is devil himself.
|Re: VICTIMS- Fiction by queenitee(f): 12:43pm On Feb 21|
Sad, sad. Poor Ukwouma
|Re: VICTIMS- Fiction by UNCL3(m): 9:59pm On Feb 21|
I'v been a secret admirer of this thread
Ever since i retired from politics section
N i must say, kudus to Rose
You are as good as shakespare
I like your stories
Please keep it coming
Members, chairmen n women n the CEO of literature section please welcome n register me with love.
|Re: VICTIMS- Fiction by Rosemary33: 10:35pm On Feb 21|
UNCL3:you are welcome sir, thank you so so much
|Re: VICTIMS- Fiction by Rosemary33: 10:40pm On Feb 21|
It was the eve of Christmas, not that it mattered to Ife who was seated on a wooden stool while a girl who should be a little older than her tended to her wounds.
She had come down with fever and her wounds were infected, swollen with pus gushing out of them. It took her a lot of crying and pleading for Issa to agree for her to be attended to, not really because she was in terrible pain, but because she disgust him the way she coiled each time he came close to her, and he could no longer stand the odor that came from her inflamed Vagina, Anus and her flesh.
Issa had come in with the other girl who had a bowel of hot water a detol and a towel, he stood watching as the girl set down the bowel beside her and helped her to a seating position before he left. He didn’t want to take her to the hospital, he was not ready to answer questions from the nurses.
She groaned as her weight balanced on her buttocks, sending a sharp excruciating pain up to her brain.
“Yi hakuri (Sorry)” the girl muttered
“hmm” and without another word, the girl worked on her wounded body, dipping the towel in the hot water and cleaning her wounds with it, the girl would juggle the towel from one palm to another while flinging her fingers in pain, making a familiar sound ‘tsssssssiiii’ like when a child stole a hot meat from a pot of soup.
Ife saw her skin came off with the towel as the girl pulls the towel away to dip again in the water, they said nothing to each other. The girl ran an ointment all over her body, and her nipples that had deep cuts too due to bits from Issa’s teeth.
She was helped to lay on her back and her legs spread. She saw the girl wiggled her nose because of the odor from her vagina, Ife could swear she saw pity in the eyes of the girl, but it disappeared immediately and the girl went to work, cleaning and applying ointment on both holes;
“Oya take…drink am fast, e go help you” the girl offered her a bottle, she didn’t know the content and didn’t ask, the smell from the bottle was strong but she gulped it quickly and returned the bottle.
“Na watin be your name” she managed to ask the girl
“I go come back anytime way I get chance come see you” the girl answered instead
Bishop Ogundele has been the CAN president for the past Twelve years and he had no intention of coming down. It has not been easy getting to this point in his life, few of them knew how to play church politics and how to romance each Government that has come and go in the presidential Villa Aso rock.
He has been to Aso Rock more than five times since this president assumed office, and each time he visited it was for one favor or the other, the president owed him favors and he knew it, both Powerful Men had washed each other’s hands for long.
The bishop was on his way to Abuja from Lagos, but lately he had loved cooling off at the back seat of his unmarked Toyota black SUV where he could see the streets and traffics without him being seen, with two other escort vehicles following behind.
If he was not called as a religious leader, he was sure he would have done well as a politician because to him, only few men could play the role of a political Godfather like him, and joint together with his highly ministerial honor, he was a very powerful man.
“Your lordship sir, we have entered Abuja” his chauffeur announced
Bishop Ogundele gazed from the window, he would have wind down to allow the air from the powerful city fill his lungs, but that would be a mistake as the street was now filled with beggars;
“Low lives” he muttered to himself as he saw them seated along the pedestals with dirty plates waiting for drops of tattered notes.
His convoy was slowed down by traffic, giving some beggars the opportunity to draw closer to his car, waving their plates while the kids among them peered through the tinted glass. He would have ordered his men to flog them off, but that would be giving the media something juicy to write about.
He was ushered into the big office where President Danladi Await him, the surge of fresh air from the Air Conditioner caressed his face and he smiled, extending his hand to the President,
“Your Excellency sir”
Both men laughed like old time school friends, but they both knew they would have been sworn enemies if not the secret that held them together.
“I came immediately I got your message”
“Not exactly…I sent the message…lets see…eight hours, twenty six minutes ago…” Mr President Laughed loudly
“Anything to drink your Lordship?”
“No…I am fine”
“Then let’s go straight to the point” Danladi signaled the armed boys in the office and the left
“The presidency needs a favor from you” Danladi looked at the Bishop
‘Like always’ Bishop Ogunlade thought
“I don’t know how long I will stay in this office before they either kill me or impeach me, I need to move something for myself…you understand what I mean” Danladi folded his arms across his chest, pulling some of his Agbada in the process
“I understand your Excellency…how much are we talking about?”
“That shouldn’t be your concern your Lordship, just be rest assured your will be generously rewarded as always…” Danladi shuffled his seating position, resting his arms on the table
“It is my concern your Excellency, that is if you are going to make use of my Private Jet and my Foreign Account…”
This was not the first time they are doing this business, and each time the clergy would always demand to know the exact amount to be moved, Danladi had watched the greed of the clergy man grew with each transaction but he could do little or nothing about it, after all, Bishop Ogundele came highly recommended.
“Okay, I will disclose the amount to you when the CBN Governor is ready”
Bishop smiled broadly, he would have loved to have something to drink now, but he feared for his life, he could be poisoned, who knows.
“I heard you say some people wants to kill or impeach you…you disappoint me Mr President…” The Bishop clapped his five fingers against each other, watching the President cunningly,
“What would you have me do your Lordship?”
“Dispose of them before they make you history… send them to the grave and attend their funerals…you have done it before, don’t be a weakling…”
The secret that tied him to this Man, a then renowned Lawyer and a human right Activist died two weeks of kidney and liver failure after he was invited by the bishop, nothing was found on his autopsy, but both Men knew what happened.
The activist was beginning to snoop and talk too much.
Yusuf sat facing his father, the Man has aged within the weeks the old man had spent in Prison,
“They said you are responsible for the bombing”
The old man looked his son on the face, forcing the boy to look away. His body rocked violently with cough and his eyes watered before he responded,
“you know who is responsible for the bombing”
Yusuf knew, but what he didn’t know was why his father was linked to it and who would want his father locked up.
“I wasn’t expecting you to come” the old man said, his voice was frail, Yusuf didn’t know he still love the old Man till this recent, he feared what he might do if anything happened to his father
“Or did he send you to come and watch me die?”
“I have not seen him for some time now, and no…I came because I want to see you” Yusuf replied
“You still work for him, you still believe in his ideologies, you are no different from him” the old man sank his forehead and his shoulders in disappointment
Another violent cough rocked his body, his bones ached and his throat hurt. He had his water rationed with no blanket to cover his weak bones from the cold that swept his cell every night.
“Are you sure Uncle is responsible for bringing you here? Or some other aggrieved scholar of yours…maybe a politician?” Yusuf didn’t want to believe Husayn could hurt him to this point
“The Isolation is what is killing me, nobody to talk to, no pen or papers to write and no book to read…” Mallam spoke, ignoring his son’s question
“…each time an ugly looking guard walks to my cell, I long to hear him tell me why I was brought here and who want me dead, but nothing…”
Yusuf has not seen his father this vulnerable, not after the death of his wife. What if Husayn was responsible? What was his reason for framing the Mallam up? Was that Allah’s instruction too?
“I know your Imam is responsible, he has always feared that I would one day tell you the truth about Islam and the true worship of Allah…you are a fool to ever listen to Husayn and you will die in your folly” the Old Man spat on the floor
“You are the one dying now…” Yusuf whispered
“Your soul is dead Yusuf, condemned by Allah, you know not Allah and his Prophet, you never did, you are only filled with the hatred and wickedness planted in you by Husayn…”
Yusuf couldn’t stand his father’s words anymore, he stood up and hurried outside, leaving his father to gaze at his back. He would have gone to
Husayn, he would have wanted to cry at his shoulder and ask him why he framed his father, he would have also believed the Imam who would tell his that Allah wished it so, but he no longer have a strong tie to his uncle, his feelings towards his uncle was being replaced with resentment and vengeance, so he ignored his uncle’s call and drove on a chattered car to an unknown motel in the outskirt of Abuja.
‘The boy is soft, just like his weak father’ Imam Husayn thought.
He has waited to hear from Yusuf for days now, he even tried calling him but he didn’t pick, only to meet him absent and his wife admitting not knowing his way about.
Abandoning the sect at this crucial time wasn’t what he expected from his nephew, he had put Yusuf to his second major test and he had failed.
He had feared that the Mallam would one day win his boy over and that would not be good for the sect, he had also wanted to play a little game, proving to the Pathetic Mallam that he has the power to kill and to make alive in this country. The Mallam already constituted nuisance and needed to be locked up.
He was driving with so much thoughts running in his head that he slightly escaped from hitting a little boy crossing to the other side of the street carelessly. As he brought the car to a halt and looked towards the boy, something about the little boy struck him, a striking resemblance to the son he lost few months ago
“Umaru!” he muttered, not so sure
But before he got down from the car the image of boy had thinned away, holding the hand of a woman.
|Re: VICTIMS- Fiction by PrudySara(f): 10:59pm On Feb 21|
This suffering is too much for Ife
Thanks for the update Rosemary33
|Re: VICTIMS- Fiction by Ann2012(f): 11:04pm On Feb 21|
Chai......Issa is a devil, he just ruined Ife's life
Thanks for the update
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