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Re: SURVIVORS (a Novel) by Fazemood(m): 9:23am On Oct 18, 2018 |
This story is good, you have managed to maintain the balance and this brings up my curiosity to know what happens next. I must commend your effort, it is good. Well done. 3 Likes 1 Share |
Re: SURVIVORS (a Novel) by authorsegun(m): 10:39am On Oct 18, 2018 |
Fazemood: thanks man. you haven't seen anything yet. 1 Like 1 Share |
Re: SURVIVORS (a Novel) by michael123pelemo(m): 3:52pm On Oct 18, 2018 |
Waiting...please update. |
Re: SURVIVORS (a Novel) by queenitee(f): 6:06pm On Oct 18, 2018 |
Update o 2 Likes |
Re: SURVIVORS (a Novel) by authorsegun(m): 6:15am On Oct 20, 2018 |
some keys that might help. NASA= National Aeronautics and Space Administration. the traces of carbon emission= smoke from motor exhaust, fire wood, plastic and rubber materials etc Read slowly with a better understanding to uncover some hidden meanings and be best entertained. my writing is unusual but there is a levelling-up. my chosen style of writing is on purpose; I have Amazon in mind. stay tuned for more episodes... 1 Like 1 Share |
Re: SURVIVORS (a Novel) by authorsegun(m): 12:30pm On Oct 20, 2018 |
authorsegun:welcome guys scroll to see other episodes Onijagidijagan Gucciqueen38 Sammy07 pu7pl3 tflaymez jerryLegend Enigmaticprof demsid Tolulopefinest Mustack hidhrhis censeakay QueenlyP XTLikeNat777 dammyd46 nastynic Ezionye twisteddany mercy0008 Donnellie afolabiwunmi frankdaholy miqos02 nittroboy Elfaris RickyMARIO maynia dingbang tjquib heylius collinometricx EKLE iampere Aniwhyte duruanyimhenry pheals Kingstone32 DeadRat Despirado21 sunnelzky omaigala12 lucksofy negzi vichrix jamilkb ianTOBBY 77al adedayo3193 olive33 mhizroh22 thebrightest demikol adeniyilamlek dhsfbi neurojosh Neeklaus Princehedris olumidephilip prince202020 SEEDBED Ayomicome LOGICALKEN chiagozien Daviestunech insp jamrid Raheemzee Bluefish7 wistadeRegal Treasure17 fvckname kaycee9242 itsandi tukdi kingin55 phantam95 smartoliver dannlukas hatchetman |
Re: SURVIVORS (a Novel) by Nobody: 9:35pm On Oct 20, 2018 |
Nice nice. I'm following 1 Like 1 Share |
Re: SURVIVORS (a Novel) by DemiKOL(f): 10:23am On Oct 22, 2018 |
authorsegun: Thanks for the invite. Following! 1 Like |
Re: SURVIVORS (a Novel) by MAB84: 11:14pm On Oct 22, 2018 |
Pinkberry5:.sent you an email because I wanted to send you the e-book (Beneath my heart) if you have not gotten it. If you want it, then reply. We will send it to you. |
Re: SURVIVORS (a Novel) by authorsegun(m): 4:22am On Oct 23, 2018 |
sorry for the delay, I've been kinda busy. I trust y'all good EPISODE FIVE Niyi swallowed the lump in his throat and started, “Mr. Jemeh, could you highlight six products from this company?” “Merit Super Detergent, Merit Luscious perfume, White Luxuriant Cream, Lure Fine Powder, Okek Tobacco and....” . Jemeh scratched his head trying to remember the last one. He peered anxiously into Niyi’s face for remark, but the dark pot-bellied man said nothing. Jemeh didn’t give much a damn about Niyi’s reaction anyway. He'd dropped interview anxiety and had pocketed every trace of shyness before walking into the yard. “Do you know the word ‘cooperation’?” Mrs. Effiong threw the question at Jemeh as she adjusted to a more upright position in her seat. Jemeh shifted his gaze to her,“yes ma’am," he answered. “And what does it means?" “It means – togetherness; working with someone else for a common goal and also em... doing as you're told.” “… and if your team member is not cooperating?” “I’ll report him to you”, Jemeh said with a wide grin that got faded by the mean look from Niyi’s face. He wondered why the woman wouldn't laugh, though her face pregnant with laughter. He started thinking the interviewer's disposition was on purpose, as non had scored him yet. Unlike him, he'd been keeping his cool in there - by not allowing any reproach to bring down his spirit. He wished the borrowed temperament would be sustained. "Peradventure, you’re hired as a marketer, what's your price?” Anderson asked . What! Niyi grimaced at Anderson’s statement. He never imagined Anderson would bargain with Jemeh, his low qualification notwithstanding. In Niyi’s arrogant opinion, Anderson ought to be in his spacious, artifact enriched office puffing cigar and making those endless calls or should be on his unending business trips and not in the board room right now. He cursed management shake-up for bringing Anderson back to workers recruitment exercise, after three years of doing it without him. “Like three hundred K, Sir” "Nul! Be formal!” “Eish!, I’m sorry sir, anything around three hundred thousand naira would do.” “We pay in dollars.” “Oops!” It took Jemeh only ten seconds to work out the dollar equivalent off hand. Jemeh knew by himself that it was impossible for him to be paid such a huge amount as a diploma holder in an economy undergoing economic recession, but to his utter astonishment, the 'Oyinbo-looking' man seemed to more generous than he'd thought. “Bof!... okay, Mr. Dania, you may leave. We’ll get back to you”Anderson said, shifting his attention away from his file. “Sir, you mean I should - go?” Jemeh asked in a voice drifting between high and low pitch as he looked into Anderson’s eyes. “Young man! You should go-ahead and stop asking gawky questions!” Niyi cut-in a yell. "Look, we have other appellants on the queue." Anderson let out a faint smile with the rare flash of humour from Jemeh’s facial expression. And Mrs. Effiong couldn’t hold back this time and so, she bursted into a loud laugh, banging the table with her short fat hands and hitting her chubby head on it as well. OMG! (Oh My God!)! This woman is hilarious! Jemeh chuckled. Her laugh was contagious, he would have love to join her. Now, Jemeh who had taken a rather jaundiced view of interviews ending in, 'We’ll get back to you' left the building with no expectations. His pensive mood was observable as he got to the reception. He exited, forgetting his bag where he'd kept it. There were no much commuters as Jemeh got to Siemens bus stop. But it took him some minutes to join a commercial bus heading Oshodi. The traffic on the mainland bridge was heavy, it usually was at that time of the day. The vehicles crawled along the road like giant Tortoises, while the yellow buses (danfo), impatiently as ever, meander through the traffic as if only they had had reason to be in hurry. “ Make una bring out your moni,” the Bus-boy requested for the passengers transport-fare with a twist of accent and stretched out his right hand to the two passengers in the front seat. “Oya na!” he hastened the passengers in a dry rasping voice - the voice that woke Jemeh from his little slumber and caused him a little agitation. After eight months, Jemeh was still struggling with the frenzy lifestyle of the most populous black city in the world, where no perfect gentleman existed. By the time he realized he wasn’t with his bag, the Bus-boy was already at him. “Oga, your moni?” the Bus-boy asked. Jemeh was looking unwilling to comply. Without quarrel, the Bus-boy moved to other passengers with the aim of returning. Jemeh started contemplating on the most patronizing excuse to give for his shortcoming, but just then, the Bus-boy returned. “Alaye! Pay me my moni na!,”he shouted at Jemeh, tapping his fingers - running out of patience and in no time, he'd speak completely in native dialect to enable him vent his full frustration verbally. “I… I misplaced my money" Jemeh spluttered. "I’m sorry, abeg help me,” he said in a low voice, without looking up from his black silky trousers. The Bus-boy let out a loud and embarrassing guffaw and began to yell threats at Jemeh,“Story for the gods! Wo, maa gba owo mi!” Jemeh could see an assurance of trouble in the rugged face of the full-grown man, even though he didn't understand the latter part of his sentence. “Hey bro., pay na! You people're disturbing me o!” Jemeh was now being accosted by the passenger on his right side. No one seemed to be nice and understanding here! Jemeh lamented in his mind. At this point, he began to lose his composure. As he sat head-bow, he could imagine the eyes in the bus falling on him. The bus suddenly became a choking narrow alley. He prayed for an escape route that never came. His body temperature rose above normal in the heat of the moment, his memory travelled back to Benin City where he'd come from. Is it that the people here don’t show concern about their neighbours, or are they just too sensitive and naïve? Jemeh asked the rhetorical in thought. But one thing was certain about Lagosians, as the people of the city were foundly called: they learnt very fast from their past mistakes and that of others. As Jemeh lifted his head, his eyes beamed upon a poster in an A5 size, pasted on the right end of the window facing him, 'Lagos is for all of us.' the poster read. Jemeh muffled a hiss and retracted his eyes. He began to question the ideology of the political party that owned the poster. His mind flew back to the interview room and back to the front-toothless Ogre snarling at him at the moment and thought a day couldn't be worse, unknowing to him his day had just begun..... TBC... 5 Likes 3 Shares |
Re: SURVIVORS (a Novel) by Fazemood(m): 10:40am On Oct 23, 2018 |
Beautiful piece my friend. Keep it up! |
Re: SURVIVORS (a Novel) by Ann2012(f): 12:16pm On Oct 23, 2018 |
Interesting Kudos OP 1 Like |
Re: SURVIVORS (a Novel) by Silver1996(m): 2:51pm On Oct 23, 2018 |
Nice 1 pls update 1 Like |
Re: SURVIVORS (a Novel) by Eyinimofeoluwa(f): 3:04pm On Oct 23, 2018 |
queenitee:thanks for the invite. |
Re: SURVIVORS (a Novel) by authorsegun(m): 6:04am On Oct 24, 2018 |
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Re: SURVIVORS (a Novel) by queenitee(f): 8:13am On Oct 24, 2018 |
Waiting 1 Like |
Re: SURVIVORS (a Novel) by authorsegun(m): 12:05pm On Oct 24, 2018 |
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Re: SURVIVORS (a Novel) by patjane(f): 4:03pm On Oct 24, 2018 |
I'm here oo |
Re: SURVIVORS (a Novel) by authorsegun(m): 5:57pm On Oct 24, 2018 |
patjane:take a seat, we're heading somewhere! |
Re: SURVIVORS (a Novel) by authorsegun(m): 4:17pm On Oct 25, 2018 |
Bus-boys in the city of Lagos had a clear EPISODE SIX Bus-boys in the city of Lagos had a clear reputation of being arrogant and cruel. Most of them were touts - always ready to strike their adversary unprecedentedly. “You no want to pay me my moni, abi? Ahhhh! maa lu e pa!” the Bus-boy threatened on and poised his right pawl to strike. That was the point when the driver’s attention was drawn - when he stole a glace to see what was happening at the back through the rare-mirror and saw what had resemblance with electric sparks in Jemeh’s eyes. May God not allow me encounter spirits, the driver made a quick prayer under his breath and hauled-in in the nick of time, to prevent any eventuality. “Condor… kilo n sele?”he asked the Bus-boy over his shoulder. “Oga mi, alaye yini sha…” the Bus-boy launched into an explanation. And after a little more conversation between both in dialect, the driver started stepping on the breaks. Had Jemeh been able to speak the dialect, perhaps he could have found favour from the locals - the outward effect of a nation with numerous ethnicities and where ethnic prejudice had found cheap accommodation, Jemeh thought. “Oga, come down!” said the driver as the bus braked to a total halt. Jemeh alighted and the bus sped off immediately, leaving behind thick smoke. Jemeh would need to come out of his melancholic shell if he must survive with an empty pocket in the streets of Lagos. Not so long, he sighted two men approaching from the far left of the road. A quick thought crept into his head and he began to untuck his shirt. He unbuttoned half way down then put on a straight face, as he waited. The two men acted as predicted by Jemeh; for some seconds they paraded him with that look as if searching for something in his body before the one with small body and a haircut that had the shape of an African chief cap broke the silence by asking, “who you dey wait for?” Jemeh remained quiet. “you deaf? I say wetin you dey do here?”he asked even louder. In a government road? What a rude Arrow! What an effrontery! Jemeh lamented inwardly, if not for his big colleague he'd have challenged him to a fight and pour out his frustration on him. But even at that, Jemeh had made up his mind not to be on the defensive or show any sign of weakness no matter what. “Na you father get this place?” Jemeh gave him a surprising yell. “Them dey follow you talk now, you dey para, abi?” the big one with tattoo all over his exposed arm said in a deep husky voice. "This place na bad place." "Anaconda, abeg leave this Jew make we delete." the small one tusked the bigger man by the arm. They continued their journey along the quiet road, chatting and looking back at Jemeh until they disappeared from view. Jemeh stood numbed with dripping self-criticism after which the men had gone out of sight. He thought it was wrong of him to have judged them by appearance though he was still seeing no sense in their alert, judging by the busy and straight road with only short grasses along its sides, until he raised his eyes to the sign on the old and rusted giant signboard looming beside him.... Tbc. 3 Likes 1 Share |
Re: SURVIVORS (a Novel) by michael123pelemo(m): 9:27pm On Oct 25, 2018 |
Update oh |
Re: SURVIVORS (a Novel) by authorsegun(m): 9:36pm On Oct 25, 2018 |
EPISODE SEVEN The board had an inscription,‘welcome to Mutori Burial Grounds.' It was then he noticed an arrangement of grave headstones, peeping through the openings in the perimeter fence he'd been resting his back upon. A cold wind of horror descended on him. He pulled away from the fence without knowing what exactly he was afraid of and began to move out of the area - to the direction where the two men had left. As he was walking,‘thriller’ by Michael Jackson flashed into his memory. His steps increased involuntarily. He wondered how inhuman and cruel the driver and his boy could be to have dropped him off in such location. By the time he got to the closest bus-stop, he'd trekked for about thirty minutes. He discovered that the roof of houses he'd seen earlier were just a mirage of their actual distance. His digital wrist watch started beeping six o'clock in the evening. Although there were no much commuters as he got there, but the number increased few minutes after. He shifted his stare from one person to another, trying to figure out the ones with the coolest appearance to approach for money, as begging was now his only option. The first person he'd approached didn’t wait to hear him out before crawling away from him as though being menaced. The man’s reaction left Jemeh totally devastated and bemused, and it had taken him twenty minutes before he could get back his composure. Jemeh was now standing by the side of a lady. Her appearance suggested a working class. She looked anxiously waiting for a bus. Jemeh prayed in his heart before unlocking his slim, pale-pink lips to say something. As courtesy would demand, he started the conversation with greetings. The lady gave him a quick glance, took a cautious position and returned his salutation. As the conversation advanced, Jemeh noticed his rehearsed lines striking a soft spot in the lady’s heart as she listened to him with all seriousness and pity face. She was about to open her hand bag when a bus arrived. She left Jemeh on the spot, rushed forward to join other commuters struggling for a seat in the waggling bus. If she had missed the bus, it would have taken her another hour or more to get another bus. It usually was so in the evenings of working days, the traffic jam on most busy routes would hold back vehicles from arriving the bus-stops in time. Jemeh knew he'd missed his best chance as he watched the lady took to a comfortable seat in the bus. He cursed himself for not approaching the lady at first, instead of the timid old man. As the pale-orange sun began to disappear into the horizon, Jemeh was propped to time consciousness, he stood from where he'd sat and doggedly continued his quest for help. The last person that broke Jemeh’s nerves had agreed to help him on one strict condition; he would pay Jemeh fare directly to the bus-boy and wouldn’t hand over cash to Jemeh. Here was the problem: Jemeh’s final destination was Ipaja, while the man's destination was Berger. The only explanation given by the man was that, it was against his policy to give cash to strangers. But here was the thing: most Lagosians shared the school of thought that a lot of beggars in the city were pretentious and diabolical and would hurt their benefactor through voodoo, using cash as the most medium. Jemeh could but only think of the man as casting aspersion on his integrity. And in as much as he wanted to prove the man wrong, he wouldn't change his destination just to establish that point. And so, he just let the man go away with his policy. All Jemeh’s effort to avert the impending danger was to no avail. Some minutes later, the busy and noisy bus-stop became as quiet as the grave yard back there; It was about eleven o’clock in the night. Dejected and weak Jemeh felt like screaming but his strength had vaporized, so that instead of screaming, he was whining in self-pity. He kept on whining as he hopelessly watched the bus-stop go completely devoid of people. TBC 1 Like 1 Share |
Re: SURVIVORS (a Novel) by Nobody: 11:19pm On Oct 25, 2018 |
Jeez... I'm scared for Jemeh ooh |
Re: SURVIVORS (a Novel) by authorsegun(m): 6:13am On Oct 26, 2018 |
Shalomdee(f), Akuruoulo(m),
damselposh (f), DjHypno (m ), DrayZee,
rachealfst(f), donkelz (m), Dackrapper
(m), Jqueen16 (f), bibijay123 (f),
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Coolkhat , AremoOG(m ),
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NaNaYaaah(f), victorbk (m), phollybee
(m), amenna(f), Ochyglowsglows(f),
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EvaJael (f), queenitee (f), 3 Likes |
Re: SURVIVORS (a Novel) by authorsegun(m): 6:18am On Oct 26, 2018 |
Pinkberry5:lolz.... Jemeh is about to experience what I passed through the day I slept out. 1 Like 1 Share |
Re: SURVIVORS (a Novel) by Fazemood(m): 7:31am On Oct 26, 2018 |
What will he do now? |
Re: SURVIVORS (a Novel) by michael123pelemo(m): 8:17am On Oct 26, 2018 |
Update |
Re: SURVIVORS (a Novel) by Ann2012(f): 9:29am On Oct 26, 2018 |
Hmmmm Well done OP 1 Like |
Re: SURVIVORS (a Novel) by authorsegun(m): 4:43am On Oct 27, 2018 |
EPISODE EIGHT “Up NEPA!!!” the shout of excitement in celebration of the restored electrical power supply, which had been out for the past twelve hours came from the next room and woke Judas from his shallow slumber. Only the kids in the neighbourhood, except Linus, would shout whenever power was restored. Other Adults would simply mute the joy and snarl abuses on the officials for their inability to provide the citizenry with an uninterrupted supply. Judas stood up in the gloomy room, dabbled his fingers around the wall, flickered one of the switches and all the lights came on. He was momentarily dazzled for a while before he could read the wall clock out of rush. “ Half past twelve!” he yelled as if Jemeh had just walked into the room. He lowered to the edge of the bed and suspended his head with his hand and began to scratch his crewcut hair with his phalanges. He had had enough of Jemeh’s insolence. Even if he was going to sleep outdoor, he should have informed him. Judas drew his conclusions irrationally and that was it. He was such a man that believed so much in his own opinion, even when the truth came shrinking at him. And tonight, he'd seen the most justified reason to send Jemeh packing. What was with Jemeh anyway? Judas questioned in thoughts, He won't contribute to the payment of bills; he'd been jobless, whose fault? “Goal!!!,” another scream came from Linus and brought back Judas from his thoughts. He then remembered the football match that had been scheduled for the night. It was Nigeria versus an African country - their last qualifying match for the coming world cup competition. The match had been trendy at Judas’ place of work for some days. They'd all waited the night for the excitement of the match. "This stupid boy would have caused me to miss this match, eh!” Judas grunted and dashed for the black box colour TV resting on the glass shelf facing the bed and switched it on at once. The match was being transmitted by almost all the local TV stations. Judas selected the station with the most perfect signal and retired to the sofa for a better relaxation. Linus would have retained his 'fat-fool' tag, if not for the football match alarm. The only person that was worried, rather than angry about Jemeh’s night-out was Fatima; the landlord’s daughter. For some time now, Jemeh and Fatima had been spending their evenings together at the balcony of the old and rambling one storey building before going to bed. Gradually, they'd grown fond of each other. Their day was never completed without their usual evening chit-chat. Fatima had once opened up in one of their conversation, that she liked him because of his intelligence and reserved personality. Jemeh had shrugged nonchalantly so as not to appear flattered by Fatima's words. On the other hand, Jemeh was in love with her vocal acrobatic – the way she performed skillfully with her voice when singing. And even though she wasn't so blessed with facial appearance, Jemeh saw her voice as a balance for the lapse. Their friendship soon became a toothpick in the mouth of many in the neighbourhood; everyone had his or her own opinion about them and Judas had the most naive. The irony was that Judas had been a secret admirer of Fatima. He was lusting after her large bosoms and buttocks. Indeed Fatima exuded more sex appeal compared to she was only sixteen. Her curves were inviting to both the old and young and Judas had vowed to take his share. Jemeh had informed Fatima about the interview the previous night, and when at sunset, Jemeh wasn't back, Fatima was on pins and needles and much more disturbed when he didn’t pick her calls until his number went out of reach. She suddenly got up from her bed and headed for Jemeh’s apartment. It was ten o'clock and she was about to throw the full weight of her chubby hand on the wooden door when the flashback of her last experience with Judas boomeranged on her memory. She suspended her arm in the air, turned around and walked slowly back to her room. She had gone to look for Jemeh on that fateful night in his apartment when she met Judas, Jemeh's roommate alone in the room. She'd wanted to leave at once but Judas had insisted that she stayed a little longer. “Why do you always run from me, Fatima?” Judas asked in his lowest voice.“Abi, am I not a people?” he humoured, imitating a popular comedian's line. “And we are a person,” Fatima returned the humour - she understood the lines Judas had used so well. They stole a primitive glance at each other and twinkled smiles. Fatima loosened up and sat on the sofa with Judas, intending to stay for five minutes just to please Judas. Judas seized the opportunity to unleash his lustful desires and intentions, instead of starting a good conversation with the teen. While they were both in gloomy silence, and Fatima lost in the soap opera showing on the TV, Judas quietly moved closer to Fatima on the sofa until his thigh almost clunk to hers. He narrowed her curves with a desirous gaze. His heartbeat began to miss its sequence as he couldn’t withstand the sexy baby-doll she was wearing that night – a short night gown that almost betrayed her pink-flowered tanga pant as she sat on the sofa. It was Judas’ touch on her soft spot that brought back her attention. She jerked at the touch and looked up with a puzzled frown on her face. She for a second wished it was Jemeh but of course not. She stood up and headed for the door when Judas made a second move. At this point, her face had metamorphosed from a frown unto a brooding snarl. “Oloshi! I don’t blame you, Idiot!” she hissed and slammed the door behind her as she stomped out of the room. Back in the room, Fatima laid on the bed with the worries of Jemeh’s safety until sleep came to her rescue. But then she'd filed up a long list of queries awaiting his return. TBC... 3 Likes |
Re: SURVIVORS (a Novel) by Ann2012(f): 6:45am On Oct 27, 2018 |
Well done OP |
Re: SURVIVORS (a Novel) by damselposh(f): 6:45pm On Oct 27, 2018 |
Am here now, let me grab my seat |
Re: SURVIVORS (a Novel) by queenitee(f): 9:37am On Oct 29, 2018 |
This is getting more interesting |
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