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Stats: 2,547,004 members, 5,863,778 topics. Date: Friday, 18 September 2020 at 02:28 PM
|Black Orchid by syluck(m): 8:28pm On Aug 16|
This is a story of a Nigerian boy, Ebere, born into a middle class family. He is loved, cherished by his parents and siblings and even by his close friends. He enjoys all the benefits and privileges from his family as the first son and one who hated being away from the family. As a young student of a Nigerian university, he comes in contact with someone that changed his life perception. He madly falls in love. He deeply sees the person as his soulmate. Ebere narrates his life before and after meeting his soulmate.
Sylvester Elias Nkwonta.
This work is really fictitious. And any character that is likely bonded to anyone whether dead or alive is purely coincidental. Most locations exist and it's been inculcated to spice up the work
All right reserved. No part of this book should be written in any form electronic or manual and the above stated if infringed is subject to prosecution on the basis of plagiarism. The author reserves the sole right to press charges in view of breech on the above and aforementioned.
|Re: Black Orchid by Deborah98(f): 8:30pm On Aug 16|
How do I get a copy of the book
|Re: Black Orchid by syluck(m): 8:30pm On Aug 16|
|Re: Black Orchid by syluck(m): 8:31pm On Aug 16|
Soon please. I'll inform you.
|Re: Black Orchid by Deborah98(f): 8:33pm On Aug 16|
syluck:alright,am a writer too
|Re: Black Orchid by syluck(m): 12:36am On Aug 17|
Wow. I guess I'll be expecting enough criticism from you :
|Re: Black Orchid by syluck(m): 12:37am On Aug 17|
PS; There are tones of Igbo, Nigerian Pidgin and a bit of Ibibio I used, I tried so much to subtitle them into English and I did. But when you come across those that are not subtitled and you don't understand, please get a person to translate them for you. Thank you.
Also my Igbo and Ibibio writing skills are not perfect, so please be lenient.
With that said, I hope you enjoy this of work.
|Re: Black Orchid by syluck(m): 10:39am On Aug 17|
Dedicated to Deborah98 for being my first commenter despite no actual post.
A voice echoed in my room. Distant but suddenly closer. A name was being called upon. The name sounded familiar like it was mine. But I was uncertain. The voice echoed again banging through the four walls. Then I was certain I heard a name. It wasn't a name that sounded familiar anymore. It was my name. I couldn’t understand why my name was being called. The voice sounded so soft but hoarse. Whoever was the caller was nowhere a reputable person at that moment. The owner of the voice must be an aggressive person with no fear of God as Nne would say.
“Wake up now! It's 8:30am and you’re still on your bed.” I heard the person scream.
The voice was now clearer. Nne. But why would she be screaming my name? Did I offend anyone and even if I did, how did she barge into my room without knocking. Wait, I thought I locked my room before sleeping the previous night? I didn’t. I was caught up with the movie I was so engrossed with before sleeping off. And again, why would she be waking me up now when I’m having a beautiful dream? Just why? Just when I’m having a good time with her in my dream world. Gosh! Nne, why?, I thought amidst my drowsy mood.
“Bia, Ebere if you don't wake up now, I’ll ask your junior brother to fetch me cold water and I'll use it to decorate you and your bed this moment,” She said, giving me a spank on my butt.
“Arghh.” I cried, turning around to face Nne who stood akimbo in her purple pyjamas gown and a green wrapper tied around her waist. She had this weird face. “The spank wasn't necessary, Ma” I muttered, with a frown on my face.
“It’s like you are suddenly running insane,” she said. All this while we were using Igbo.
Yes. We used Igbo to communicate. We were raised by our parents in Igbo language. Papa would always complain about parents who use English on their children at home instead of their native languages. He believes that all kids will surely learn English language in school, because of peer groups and the teaching, not at home. We hardly used English, but we still used it.
“Is it me that you’re squeezing your face for?" She asked.
“Mba, Nne.” I quickly replied, not wanting it to escalate to another level of discussion.
“It’s 8:31am now and I don't know why you’re still on your bed. And again, today is Friday, I don’t remember you guys having a break or something, besides Tomi told me yesterday that you guys will be having a presentation by 9:am today” She said, with a stern look after glancing at the wall clock in my room.
Tomi! That boy. How did I come to know that boy in this life? I thought. It was the third time in a week he was snitching on me saying things I don't want him to even though I never obliged him not to. He couldn't just control his mouth.
He had been my childhood friend and my age mate. We were best of friends. We had been in the same nursery school, secondary school and the university level. Interestingly, we were in the same department in the university. He was a dark skin 5’7ft tall with a round face that had a poorly natured goatee. He had these curious eyes that made one wonder if he was actually satisfied with life. He had this slim athletic body with a flat tummy. One would think it was an actual abs. No, it was just hungry six packs. He was the only son of five children. His father was of the Yoruba tribe in Nigeria and from Ibadan state but his mother was an Ibibio lady from Akwa Ibom state still in Nigeria.
“That boy never keeps his mouth shut,” I whispered audibly while taking the coverlet off my body.
“That’s your own business” She said while leaving my room. “Don't forget to get the money from your father,” she added before closing the door.
Which money? I thought, oh! The money I asked him to give me some weeks ago to get a new Beatz headphone. Yippee! I screamed inaudibly. That man has finally come to his senses. I thought. Not that he was insane or something, just that he made promises but fails to keep it until he's being reminded.
My name is Kingston Chidiebere Nwankwo. 5'9ft tall, light skinned with a beautiful dentition. I had a perfect body with hairs on my chest and tummy. My tummy bulges anytime I eat or drink and stays flat whenever I don't eat or drink. My long athletic legs and laps were so blessed with hairs that looked like furs. I was as well called a 'bush man' sometimes because of the amount of hairs I had on my body. I had this squared face with a moustache and beard. I often get mistaken for someone in their mid and late 20's because of my beard. I had a magenta lips that got most girls jealous and above all I was good looking with a low cut hairstyle and hairline that's great thanks to Nne's wonderful hairline.
|Re: Black Orchid by syluck(m): 10:47am On Aug 17|
I was born as the second born and first son of Papa, Dr Sullivan Okechukwu Nwankwo and Nne, Mrs Ifeoma Sulivan Nwankwo. I had one elder sister, Olivia Chiamaka and two younger siblings Raymond Chukwuebuka and Lilian Chimamanda respectively. So in total we were six people that made up Dr, Sullivan’s family. Our extended family consisted of my father’s two brothers and a sister. He was the last child. His parents were no more. Same with Nne. I happened to meet Nne’s mother alive before she died. Nne had two younger brothers and no sister. My cousins were all littered mostly in the Eastern part of Nigeria and we communicate when necessary. I hardly knew them because I didn't frequent the village in the Eastern part of Nigeria.
We hail from Anambra, a beautiful state in Nigeria. And precisely from Agulu in Anaocha Local Government Area. So by flesh and blood we were and even now proud Igbo by tribe and Language, this clearly can be elaborated with the Igbo names attached to our English names.
I was born on the 20th of August 2000 in Uyo, the capital of Akwa Ibom state. According to Nne, my elder sister was the only one that was given birth to outside Uyo. Amaka was born on the 13th of April 1997 in Awka, the capital of Anambra state.
Nne would tell us that she and Papa got married in Awka when he was just a junior lecturer and after his PhD in 1998, he was transferred to University of Uyo where they all moved before the rest of us came into existence. Ebuka, 14th February, 2002 while Amanda, our last born and the prettiest, was born on 30th September, 2005.
“Ebere, Nne said I should ask you if you are giving birth to quintuplets, it has been five minutes since the shower has been running” I heard my brother, Ebuka shout from my room.
“Ya odika i wero respect!” I said, asking if he doesn't have respect anymore, hating him for disturbing my beautiful thought of the dream I had.
“She said even if you don't want to go to school, you should not waste the water in the house,” He muttered, hitting the aluminum bathroom door in my room.
“If I dare come out from this bathroom, I will skin you alive” I retorted. This time angry at him for banging the door.
“Mr skin-me-alive, you better hurry up before Papa leaves, you know he does things,” He said.
“Okay,” I simply said and began cleaning my body with my green with whites striped towel.
|Re: Black Orchid by Deborah98(f): 10:49am On Aug 17|
syluck:wow a beautiful story you have up here, kudos dear the sky is your starting point.
|Re: Black Orchid by Deborah98(f): 10:50am On Aug 17|
|Re: Black Orchid by syluck(m): 10:54am On Aug 17|
thanks i appreciate.
|Re: Black Orchid by syluck(m): 4:43pm On Aug 17|
Deborah98, Ann2012 please help me mention your gang.
|Re: Black Orchid by syluck(m): 4:58pm On Aug 17|
My family was a middle class type of family. Papa, a light skin 5’7ft lecturer in the department of Accounting, was a Phd holder and also the Head of Department (H.O.D). He had been earning what a senior lecturer should be earning since God knows when. He was more of a dialogue person than a 'disciplinarian' unlike Nne. He was a jovial, carefree man who sometimes promises but fails. He would fulfill that promise when his wife reminds him. Or sometimes he would fulfil it when the spirit of fulfilment abides in him.
One unique trait about Papa was the fact that he was an extrovert who talked on absolutely everything, be it the bad or the good. He discussed with us on almost everything one would never think of.
I remembered when I was just 13 years old in JSS3, I was watching a movie in the parlor when he came inside with a newspaper in his right hand and a canned malt drink in his left, sat down in his reserved chair, looked at me weirdly, his eyes demanding and said.
“King, what class are you now?” He called me King when he was in a good mood or wanted to ask for a favour.
“Papa, JSS3” I replied.
“How old are you?” he asked, glancing at the newspaper.
“13, but I will be 14 by August,” I said inquisitively.
“So how many girlfriends do you have in school?” He asked. His face with no definite expression.
“None” I murmured.
“Don’t play me, boy, you’re in a mixed school and you don't expect me to believe this.” This time around, his voice was becoming more masculine than before.
Knowing how serious he was, I decided to give him the truth. “I have many girls as my friends but it's only Oluchi I like the most,” I said. He looked at me, took a sip of his malt.
“So this Oluchi, is she in your class and who are her parents?” he asked, humming a song while glancing through at the newspaper he held on both hands.
“Yes she is, her dad is a plumber while her mom owns a provision stall at Akpan Andem market.”
“I never asked you to tell me their occupation, but anyways do you like this girl?"
“Yes I do,” I replied, squeezing my hands. I was now feeling my body temperature rising to its hottest level despite the ceiling fan blazing. I bite my teeth grinding them like they no more matter to me.
I was sure I heard Papa grin as he continued with his interrogation.
“So have you ever kissed her?”.
The question sent cold chills all over my body. I looked at my father and saw him smiling right at me and grinning like he knew the question was going to make me feel uncomfortable. I was just 13 for Christ sake. I knew him to be this straightforward with his question but I never knew him to be terrifying with his looks after asking such questions.
“I only hugged her once, I have not kissed her” I stammered.
“In that case have you kissed anyone?” He asked again.
“No, sir” I replied.
"Ebere," he began, as he dropped his newspaper and looked at me. “I’m not trying to intimidate you with questions that you may think you’re not supposed to know or answer. But this is the 21’st century and things have changed a lot. When I was younger in my university days, I vowed to myself that my kids will know a little on sex education before their 16th birthday. I have done this to your elder sister and now I'm doing the same to you. You’re gradually growing into puberty and adulthood and soon enough you’ll start having feelings for your opposite sex or getting attracted to them. You like Oluchi now, maybe because you feel she’s pretty or maybe because of peer group or maybe because you want to use it to get at someone-”
“I'm not trying to use her to get at anyone,” I said quickly, cutting him.
“Boy, don’t you interrupt me while I’m talking” He said in English with a firm look. “That’s a sign you don’t disrespect your elders,”
He continued, with a smile. “ As I was saying, I can’t tell you not to like Oluchi or to like her. One thing I would want you to know is that you should always be careful. As a boy, it is very okay for you to like a girl or fall in love with any. But it is not okay if you do the following, 1: Breaking or using a girl's vulnerability 2: Using a bait to win a girl over. 3: Forcing yourself on a girl for sexual pleasure.” He said, paused, drank his malt and asked.
“I’m sure you know what breaking a girl’s vulnerability is?”
"What is it?"
"It's like saying, breaking a girl's heart or using her weak point"
“Good, you guys watch a lot of movies these days so I'm not surprised. Back to number three, don’t you ever force yourself on a girl for sex. It is called rape. It will tarnish your image forever. Moreover, it's ungentlemanly for any man or boy to do that, it's evil and a disgrace, erroneous and an unspeakable act. I have not done it before and will never do, you should follow in my footsteps on this. 4: Disrespecting women or seeing them as sex objects. The society has placed women as sex objects therefore making them lesser humans thereby disregarding them or treating them like trash. Don't do it son. It's not nice. Most times the ladies do this to themselves but always be quick to avoid such ladies. As a lecturer, I can tell you that I've encountered countless ladies who make advances at me by dressing provocatively and talking seductively in my office just for grades but I always ignore them because of the respect and love I have for your mom and sisters, and also because it's the right thing to do." He paused and looked at me keenly to see if I was still paying attention. He continued.
"This part is also important, son, when ever you feel you want to have sex with a girl, always use contraceptives. By contraceptives I mean those things a boy or girl puts on before getting laid. Use them till whenever you're married, even when you are, you can still decide to use them. This would help you get free from Sexual Transmitted Diseases; these diseases are dangerous which can lead to the end of your life. And also the contraceptives prevent unwanted pregnancies. Even the contraceptives are not 100% correct. So be wise and all the times have self control. And I don't expect you to start using the contraceptives now, but I'm telling you this in time so you know because it's right that you know."
He ended our twenty minutes conversation with that and then continued with his newspaper. That was the first time I heard the word contraceptives and STDs. I turned around to find Nne at the dinning, I wondered how she got there. Well, that was seven years ago, and the memories are still fresh and have kept me in the right part.
|Re: Black Orchid by Deborah98(f): 5:05pm On Aug 17|
|Re: Black Orchid by syluck(m): 5:34pm On Aug 17|
Mention your friends �
|Re: Black Orchid by Deborah98(f): 8:45pm On Aug 17|
syluck:all of you are my friends besides am new here
|Re: Black Orchid by Deborah98(f): 8:49pm On Aug 17|
syluck:wow absolutely beautiful from a composed writer,hey you are beating me in this game ooo,thumbs up dear
|Re: Black Orchid by Ann2012(f): 10:05pm On Aug 17|
Make una come oooo
|Re: Black Orchid by syluck(m): 10:07pm On Aug 17|
|Re: Black Orchid by syluck(m): 10:07pm On Aug 17|
My head now is big
|Re: Black Orchid by Deborah98(f): 10:19pm On Aug 17|
syluck:you are a great writer, your expressions are simple,clear and precise,no much frivolities, classic portraying cultural traits, qualities of various ethnic groups in Nigeria,it's a rich book,nice one you have here, keep it up.
|Re: Black Orchid by fattprince(m): 6:49am On Aug 18|
Deborah98:I'm not your friend and besides stop quoting the whole story. You can just delete some words before the second quote. You ate just wasting space. Dm me let me help you with somethings on Nairaland
|Re: Black Orchid by syluck(m): 9:16am On Aug 18|
|Re: Black Orchid by Elvictor: 10:34am On Aug 18|
I won't regular in commenting for now, but when it is time you go run... nice work
|Re: Black Orchid by syluck(m): 12:59pm On Aug 18|
|Re: Black Orchid by Emex100(m): 3:00pm On Aug 18|
Thanks sweetheart. Am right behind you
|Re: Black Orchid by Khriztarl(f): 6:47pm On Aug 18|
Ann2012:thanks love. Syluck *thumbsup*
|Re: Black Orchid by syluck(m): 7:49pm On Aug 18|
"What are you doing with my phone and why are your legs on top of my shirt" I queried my brother who was on my bed in my room with my phone as I walked inside with my towel tied around my waist.
"Bro chill, I'm just going through your WhatsApp, besides you're not going to put on this shirt now," He said nonchalantly, raising an eyebrow.
"Leave my room now and give me back my phone. I will definitely change my pattern again just because of you," I said reaching for my phone. He was always the reason I had pattern locks all over my social media applications. Not that he didn’t own a phone or something, he was on this notion; ‘Ebi, please how do you sweet chat these girls on WhatsApp and Facebook, teach me please’ Then he would ask for my phone and be going through my chats.
"Ebere, Chai, you’ve washed this girl's head with this line," He would exclaim, laughing hysterically. "Baby, I promise to love you and treat like a golden queen that you are" He would read from my chats and scream "Bro, like how many girls are you telling this particular stuff to?"
"Bia Nwokem, what is it?" I would respond. "It's called strategy. You say this to girls to know which one will give you green light".
"Green light to do what?" He'd ask with a stupid face.
"Ewu, green light to become a reverend sister, Aturu" I’d clap back teasing him.
"Bro, bikonu help your only brother". He'd beg me with a baby face.
"It's now you know how to humble yourself right?". I'd asked him. Then I continued.
"Truth is bro, after breaking up with Itoro, I've not been lucky enough to get another girl, they always reject me"
He would laugh at this.
“Why then do a lot of girls comment on your pictures on Facebook with love emojis?" He’d asked. I’d look at him like he was one toddler that needs spanking or scolding.
Ebuka had the habit of asking stupid questions when it does not matter, and even when it matters, does not have any symbolical meanings. Ebuka was just two years younger than me. An inch shorter, with a triangular face and countable beard sprouting under his chin. He had a muscular body with a bicep and abs at the right places despite not hitting the gym. He had Nne's chocolate skin colour. People said he looked a lot like her, that he was just the male version of Nne. Whereas, I looked so much like Papa, and as the first boy, they said I merited it. Ebuka and I were in the same level in the university but not in the same school. He was a student of Imo State University (IMSU), studying Civil Engineering. He gained admission immediately after he finished secondary school in 2018. While me, I was busy doing the normal big boy thing when I finished secondary school in 2016. Told Papa I wanted to go for computer training which I did and forfeited registering for the JAMB UTME that year. A year later, I sat for the exam but my score wasn't appealing. Had to sit again in 2018 with my brother and luckily for me, I passed with a greater score and was admitted to study Economics alongside Tomi.
Ebuka wasn't really good at talking to girls and wooing them. He was always like a toddler taking the first ever step. I would always tell him countless times to be brave and courageous and have the spirit to woo, but that spirit won't get hold of him.
"If you like, change your phone password, you'll still unlock it when I ask." Ebuka said confidently, getting up from my bed as I got the phone from him.
"No problem, next time come again," I said.
"I saw Itoro this morning when I went out to buy bread," He said, walking to sit on my loveseat. Itoro was my ex, we had been together for 6 months before the breakup.
"And how's that my business?" I replied, applying lotion on my body.
"Ahhh, for someone you brought to this room to get laid with?" He said with his mouth wide open.
"Shut up" I responded. Wondering if he was in the same league with Tomi, hoping I wouldn't regret telling him that story.
"It's been 2 months Ebi, are you still angry that she slept with Edidiong?” Ebi was my home ‘pet’ name. Ebuka did call me that sometimes when he wanted a favour or offended me. I in turn called him "Buka".
|Re: Black Orchid by syluck(m): 7:51pm On Aug 18|
"Nna, that girl lied to me consistently, if not for the fact I caught her red handed she will still be lying" I said, putting on my boxer and my blue jean trouser that has the knee part ripped. I broke up with Itoro two months ago. I loved the girl but she broke my heart by lying and cheating. Not that I despised or hated her, just that I didn't like seeing her anymore. People may have said I cheat or I may look like one, but I didn't. I gave Itoro my all but she played me.
"But you told me you were having another affair with someone," He said.
I looked at him, sighed and shook my head. This boy will put me in trouble one day, I thought. "It was a lie," I muttered. I said this when he asked me if I had another girl I’ve been sleeping with just like Tomi.
"Ebi, you look cute and handsome and super classy, you'll make all the uniuyo girls drool over you" He complimented me.
"Thank you, Buka" was all I said. I was dressed in an ash colour t-shirt with an inscription ‘Get healthy’ then had a blue jean jacket over it, a tight blue jean trouser and a white colour balenciaga sneaker with an ash colour sole Nne gave me when I begged for it..
I was wearing my cologne when my phone rang. I checked the caller, I picked it immediately to answer Tomi.
"Ebere, how far, where are you?" Tomi said over the phone.
"I am still in the house, bro," I replied.
"By this time? It's 8:57 bro" He hauled at me.
"I know, and I'll be in school soon," I said.
"Alright, the presentation will start by 9:30," He said, and I heard him speak to whomever he was speaking to over the phone.
“Then why did you tell my mother that the presentation was by 9am?” I asked him, feigning annoyance with my voice.
“That was what Iniobong told me yesterday after she met with the lecturer in his office, but today she is saying the lecturer has rescheduled the time to 9:30am” He defended himself. Initially, I knew the presentation was going to take effect and the time for the class was 9am. But because of the lecturer’s habit of coming late, coupled with the fact that I was in Group D, I decided I would be going late for the event and I was not even the group leader. So I wasn't surprised with what I heard from Tomi about the class rescheduling for 9:30am. And lest I forget, TomI was the assistant class rep.
“Okay bro, I will be there in the next 10 minutes” I said before hanging the call on him.
I went to my bookshelf, took the textbook and notebooks I would be needing for the day’s class. My room was well furnished and equipped with all modern facilities for a normal boy of a middle class family, living with the parents as a student of a higher institution not forgetting the fact of first son privilege. I had my king size bed just below the window situated in the middle of my room and a 4 step drawer closer to it. The German door to my room was at the far left hand side from my bed position. On the wall opposite my bed had my 32 inches TV setup stand which comprises a PES 3 console with a twin gamepad, home theater with speakers standing side by side, and a DVD. At the left hand side just a few meters away from the door was my bookshelf, my reading table. The right flank from my bed had my wardrobe, shoe racks and also my executive loveseat Papa bought for me when I gained admission. Still at the right flank, a few meters from the wardrobe, there was a door that leads to the backyard. My room was really spacious that accommodated the ceiling fan, standing fan and Air Conditioner on the wall, which was painted in an ash colour. On the wall adjacent to my bed was a big poster of Barcelona’s 2015 Champions League players when they won the trophy, closer to it was the poster of my football idol, Lionel Messi. I also had my portrait, the family’s and the wall clock hung on the wall too.
“When are you going back to Owerri?” I asked my brother, putting the books I got from the shelve into my Barcelona cross bag.
“Monday,” He said. He actually came home for the weekend.
“Alright” I mumbled, getting up and ready to leave. “Oya, I’m about to leave,” I said. He looked up with a squeezed face and was about standing when he said “Won’t you close your window blinds and curtain.” I turned back realizing that I did not pull the blue curtain down, pulled it down and dressed my bed properly.
|Re: Black Orchid by syluck(m): 7:56pm On Aug 18|
Deborah98, elvictor, Ann2012, khriztal, emex100, fattprince, adeola25, michaellovaldo, aforke27, jomagibs, sheba222, topol99, gunners160, froze6, celestialbeing, pauliben
|Re: Black Orchid by Khriztarl(f): 10:22pm On Aug 18|
Owk. Thanks for the update.
Enirock. Deedee033, come over. Deborah98, do not, i repeat, do not quote the whole post again. Mbok.
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