₦airaland Forum

Man, your pen is really dripping with the blood of the distorted society we live in at present. Words almost poetic but the message cannot be missed.

fikfaknuel:
sorry I didn't read earlier. You spelt my moniker wrongly.
Beautiful tale. I love the originality of scenery and the diction used. Beautiful tale.

Your coming is all that matters. Sorry about the moniker spelling and I appreciate your analysis.

OluwabuqqyYOLO:
This is a satire. I like breasts myself, why condemn it If you're pissed off, just pass.

May be I should have used a smiling emoticon or I didn't get the satiric message but I saw it that way. Its your decision at the end of the day but seriously criticism can come in any way so sorry.

Seriously what is the purpose of this work? Are you against breastfeeding babies?

pls I wish the MOD to help delete this thread as I have created another due to downtime from your server.
Cc Obinnau

Bartey had just one task to perform from dusk to dawn and it was quite simple as staying within the four walls of the little hut he and his mother lived in. He had tried several times to incorporate some other fun activities aside from sitting on the bed while his legs swung to and fro but boredom was always around the corner. The desire to stray outside had always felt appetizing to him but he had a much bigger contention than the stern warning from his mother. The disease called Oriada which had taken the shape of a fearsome living figure.

Bartey’s house is just one of fifty households that inhabit the small village of Owawa. A village so beautiful and luxuriant at the same time. The lush vegetation and the streams that crisscross the village are some of the physical adornments that has made Owawa a pride of the people. The inhabitants are largely fisher-men and women farmers and this has largely influenced the way and manner of their daily lives. This was so until the visit of the ‘unwelcomed visitor’. The visit and its result did not only bring tragedy, it led to the human desertification of the village. Homes suddenly became the sanctuary of the inhabitants who have almost given up due to the savage nature of things.

Bartey knew nothing but fun before the arrival of the man from the city. He was an adept footballer aside from being one of the best students in the only primary school located in the community. After the day’s lessons, Bartey always stayed back with his friends to play the game of football. He always had a report to give as he would always report late to the farm where his mother would have been since the break of day. Despite the primitive nature of things in the village, the people knew nothing else but a heightened sense of community and a desire to promote happiness among themselves. Only few people had left the community for the modern culture of the city and these people had always attained a status of utmost respect among the people. The dream of the boys and girls of the village were as flimsy as taking a day trip to the city and back. As a result of this, the return of a ‘been-to’ was a reason to celebrate and rejoice.

The return of Benjamin was therefore celebrated by the towns-folk who welcomed him with much delight. Benjamin had left the village for the city about five years ago and had only visited once. He had only an aged mother to attend to as his father was dead thus his decision to have stayed away for such a long time. Therefore his return was celebrated boisterously by the people who received him as both a visitor and a native of the land. Only a few people would have noticed the sullen and dreadful expression on Benjamin’s face. He tried avoiding the people but it was to no avail as he was jumped on by the children and hugged by the women and men. He ignored his fears as he wore a long sleeve shirt and a pair of trouser which was long enough to shield him from the people’s bodily contact.

The real reason for Benjamin’s visit was to be revealed in a dramatic and tragic fashion some few weeks after. He had come to seek treatment at home for a disease called ‘Ebola’.The story had not gotten to the village as modern disseminator of news such as the radio and television were largely absent from most homes in the village. The village chief was the only person that could lay claim to the ownership of a transistor radio. This separation from the outside world would prove to be the people’s undoing as time went on. The news that jolted the people out of their ignorant state was the death of the village herbalist. His death was as mysterious as the death of his last patient. Benjamin was the last patient that dragged the herbalist to the grave.

Benjamin was sick and this made him return from the city. It would have been ludicrous to tell the people that he had come home from the city to seek treatment. The obvious reaction would have been one of shock and maybe a vague pride as it was believed that the best treatment could be found in the city. Benjamin knew this hence he kept the information about his illness to himself. He did not reveal the true implication of his illness and no one was going to find out. He wanted a quick healing process so as to return back to the city without raising any suspicion hence his visit to the herbalist was done under the cover of the night. The herbalist listened to his story with interest and gave him an assurance of healing once he was done. The treatment process began in earnest but it did not go beyond two days before Benjamin succumbed to death. The death was perplexing to the herbalist who was quick to term it as a spiritual attack. His body was swollen and it had festering sores and boils. The herbalist carried out a purification rite before sending the body to his family for burial.

Unfortunately, the herbalist had touched the bare skin of Benjamin and he became sick two days after the death of Benjamin. From a symptom of fever, it degenerated into coughing blood and sores appearing in different part of his body. He couldn’t call for help as he was supposed to be the village healer, a title that had been passed down to him by his ancestors. He died a week after and it was a huge shock to the people as he was relatively young. Some regarded it as an ill-omen from the gods but the chief was not satisfied. He decided that a test should be conducted in order to probe the death of the herbalist. Around this period, the attendant of the herbalist fell ill. The symptoms were very much comparable to that of the herbalist. In panic, he narrated the events surrounding the death of the herbalist to the chief. The chief immediately sent a dispatch to the nearest county office.
The reply was abrupt and officious. A bespectacled official from the ministry of health arrived one early morning and met with the chief and members of his council. The meeting was held behind closed doors. Immediately the official left, the chief summoned everyone to the village square where he made clear the unfortunate gift brought by the visitor from the city.

Benjamin had been infected with the dreaded Ebola disease while he was in the city and had been taken into a government hospital where they were supposed to be treated. Unfortunately the health officials had not been able to cure the infected persons of the disease and that had resulted in a high casualty rate. Benjamin faced with the certainty of death ran to the village in order to get a cure. Unfortunately, the disease had claimed the lives of Benjamin and the herbalist and it was likely to claim more lives if immediate precaution was not taken. The chief immediately announced that the people should try as much to avoid bodily contact with each other as those infected already were not known. This sudden announcement threw the people into panic and they rushed to their various home ostensibly to save their lives.

Bartey wouldn’t have imagined that the city could bring such ill-luck to his people. He wished that Benjamin had decided against returning back to the village.

This is a short story that touches on the Ebola scourge that came on West Africa sometime ago. Happy it's gone for good.

I will want to invite these fellow writers to read it
Bibijay123
Fiffaknuel
Larrysun

This is a very short story that discusses the Ebola scourge that came upon a section of West Africa not too long ago.
It will be nice to have these following people to come in to join in reading and giving their thoughts thereafter.
Fiffaknuel
Bibijay123
Larrysun...

fikfaknuel:
It helps in a way. However, let me point out the fact that this is not a short story. Every update cannot be captivating. There are high and low points. About the play on words and describing 'irrelevanties' I swear, it is not intentional.

Thanks bro, anywhere you're confused, point it out, and maybe someone will fill you in. I guess the confusion is caused by the unconventional plotting I used in this novel.

Seriously I like this reply, it shows you know what you are doing. I understand the deviation at some point but the reality is that this is a completely unedited book which you are delivering to us. A suggestion though, let every point of description or elaboration be towards advancing the story/plot.

yungeez:
M liking 4 a real interesting action story to read here on dis section....pls who can point me in d right direction.... M kind of new here

Check out Accidental Victim by Dioxidane.

Nice one Op, your vision is refreshingly in the present.

That statement ' you are the reason I live' is one lie that looks like truth in the eyes of lovers.
Well done story teller and some sentences really sound like poetry.

Seriously I did like to have a private chat with you Larrysun.

bibijay123:
I love the story and i also like that it was thoroughly edited because i couldn't spot even one typo and the end was OK too but it left me salivating for more and the story was totally unpredictable. A job weldone boss

Thanks for honouring my request. I do appreciate your observation and can only say that is just how it ended.

Good evening Bibijay, love the story and the ending is quite beautiful.
First of all I respect your vision and can't help but say you are good. You can only get better.
The structure of your story is just like the rest of your other lengthy stories but I feel this kind of restricted the plot. Yes, you said it is a true life story but I believe or guess that not all facts are represented here hence you could have done some slight modification to blend in some form of 'fantasy'. Maybe you shouldn't have given the character voices, rather you should have related their story impersonally.

Also, your use of language is good but you tend to use Am a lot instead of I am. Also you used too many informal words to relate the sexual organs which is kind of derogatory, such innuendos could be best in the conversations of the prostitutes and not in your narrative Just do your best to do a proper review as it seems you hurried over the narrative in some parts.
No need to repeat what others have said but just be willing to do more readings to improve your craft.

Lastly, keep up that humble and cheerful spirit as it can only make you better. Prostitution is a vice that shouldn't be encouraged and I just hope things could better that we won't have these characters around.
Also, I hope you check out my story https://www.nairaland.com/3331639/little-secret-short-romance-story.

Man, this is crazily hilarious.

Fine descriptive write-up, waiting eagerly for the rest.

gabsoft:
Just forward your email to the number. Others are getting it already!

Thanks.

Man keep up the good job. In as much as you have described the events as real I am content and revel in reading it like a fiction.

Please do well to consider the comment above me.

Agromuda:
Gud story u have boss!!! Update plz.

It's done, I thought I had a good ending.

I hope you got the e-book @fikfaknuel.

Britain introduced into her colonies a language born of a class-ridden society, bearing in its sounds and structure a history of social discrimination, oligarchic gamesmanship, and blatant inhumanity. The pernicious effects of English on the broadly egalitarian societies of traditional Africa are not hard to unearth. In the new order, English was seen as the golden means of breaking out of the old peasant pattern into the money economy and white-collar comfort of the colonizer. A knowledge of English was one guaranteed way in which a breakthrough could be achieved (4).
Culled from Uhuru Fire: A study of East African Literature.

This scenario described above still hold true up till this moment after so many years of independence. This article will not criticize the fact that English Language is still the choice language of writers but will only want to point out the fact that it has led to the neglect of our indigenous languages. It is obvious that English should be considered a language of choice for writers especially when you consider the large number of languages we have in this continent. This fact notwithstanding, we must admit either from close observation or experience that the dominance of the language has affected us greatly. Our thoughts and ways of expression are tailored towards the West while any hint of being Local is almost demonized.

Sometime ago, Darkenedrebel wrote an article that only accentuated the view that Africans don’t read. Almost every one of us must have heard the term ‘If you want to hide something from the black man, write it in a book’. While this assertion is true judging from reality we must also understand the fact that despite the popularity of the English language, it is still not the favourite of a broad section of our people hence the likely cause of the poor reading culture. Please note that I am not supporting the weakness of our reading culture, I am only pointing out a fact that I have discovered in some places.

For us to remedy this situation, it will be great if we consider the possibility of doing some of our write-up in our indigenous languages. It may not be to the benefit of our immediate community especially those who are students but it will promote our languages while letting those who are unaware to discover some of those treasured thoughts in our mind. I acknowledge the fact that most languages in Africa are oral in nature but at the same time, it is pertinent to know that most of our major languages have been reduced to writing. Until we give more exposure to our indigenous languages, it will be difficult to bridge the literacy gap in this country and the continent in extension.
Source: Written by me.

How do I get it?

fikfaknuel:
Abeg who get e-book?
I'm itching to read something. Prefferably African Literature.

Got some e-book that has to do with research on African Liter

I can only exclaim like the poster above me. Your work raised the bar higher and it's literariness is quite beautiful to admit. I started today and I am here happy to have a close understanding of this famous place that has produced some of Nigeria best musicians.

My friend who lives there fondly refers to it as AJ city and he is quite familiar with phase two bar. Keep up the good work and may your imagination aid your narrative. Nice use of grammar except for some few errors.