₦airaland Forum

silverlinen:
Yo Bam!! What's happening here now?

Silver, good afternoon. Actually, it's a YouTube story video that I made myself. The link is above. You can check it out, dear.

Hungerbadoo:
Please don't do that okay ? Merry christmass

I won't. Merry Christmas to you too, dear

Hungerbadoo:
Beautiful

Awwn, thank you, dear. I won't remove the story because of you

Hungerbadoo:
nice one sweetheart

Wow. Thank you so much. I was about to remove this story when your comment came in. I really appreciate it. Thanks once more

I haven't found the perfect title yet. Please bear with me Oh, and ignore any mistakes you find. Many thanks


Copyright © 2024 Jessica Duru
All rights reserved

The right of Jessica Duru to be identified as author of this work has been asserted in conformity with copyright law. No part of this publication may be reproduced l, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the permission in writing from the author.


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The sound of a metal gong awakened me. It was the third time this week. I had just had the sweetest dream, eager to see how it would end, only to be jolted awake by the gong and the voice of the town crier.

'I wonder what it is this time,' I could hear my mother say across the room.

‘Hush, woman. Let us hear what they have to say.’ The sound appeared to awaken Father as well. It felt good to know I was not the only one who was irritated by the early morning call. 'For the third time this week. The third time!’ Dad bellowed, and Mom joined in.

I could only laugh as I lay quietly, listening to my parents' conversation and paying less attention to what the town crier said.

'You are not going to believe what happened yesterday,' Papa began, my ears perked up.

‘What happened?’ My mother asked.

‘Ichie Onukwu,’

I let out a gasp. What happened to Ichie Onukwu? I hoped it was not something bad. Dad was always the bearer of bad news. We always teased him about this because he seemed to be aware of the bad things that were going on.

‘He fell from a tree!’

I shook my head in response to the terrible news, as if my father were informing me.

‘Our Ichie Onukwu?’ My mother exclaimed at the top of her lungs. ‘Ekwusina!’ She rebuked my father's words. Do not say! It was indeed sad.

I was wide awake and a little bored from listening in on my parents' conversations. The town crier had returned home. I fixed my gaze on the ceiling in the hopes of falling back asleep, but it didn't work.

'But why do they keep wanting us at the King's Palace?'

My ears perked up again when I heard Mom ask. It seemed like a juicy gist, and my curious self was eagerly awaiting a response. The King’s palace, hmm? I thought to myself, knowing they had not been there long.

'Well, I am not going this time,' Mom said adamantly, not allowing her husband to answer her question.

I laughed quietly and stood up from my mat. Ohh! An unintentional yawn escaped my lips, alerting my parents to my arousal. I knew what was coming next, and it happened exactly as I predicted.

‘Ifeoma!’ Mom was the first to call. There was no escaping it. ‘Go and wash the plates!’ She said the words I dreaded hearing.

'Oooooh, Mama!!!!' I sat back on the mat and cursed profusely, wishing I had been quieter.

‘Ifeoma!’ My mom called again.

I dreaded hearing the third call because I knew what it would mean. ‘Ma, I am going!’ I got up again, but I didn't feel like doing anything yet. 'It's every time they disturb someone in this house,' I muttered under my breath as I slowly dragged myself outside. Why do I have to do my chores so early? It’s annoying.’ I could almost direct my rage at anyone who crossed my path that morning. Being an only child was a burden, a massive thorn in my neck. I had no help and was forced to do everything myself. Especially because Mom had to be so strict. She had a way of compelling people to do things they didn't want to do. I could say it was typical African parents' behaviour. 'Oh, I am so fed up with this place! I continued to groan, unwilling to start my chores.

‘Ifeyinwa!’ A sudden call drew my attention. Only one person addressed me by that name, and she was the last person I wanted to see.

Mama Ngozi! I clenched my teeth. She was the nosy woman I disliked the most. One might wonder what she had done to deserve such hatred, but I would say nothing.

'Ifeyinwa, ah-ah, can’t you greet me?’

I intended to ignore her, but instead found myself turning toward her. 'Good morning, Aunty Su.' I despised the thought of greeting her.

‘Are you spreaking In-gelesh for me?’

I almost laughed at her mispronunciations. 'ụtụtụ ọma, ma,' I said in our local dialect. I hadn’t noticed the hoe in her hand. Right, I thought with a suppressed smile, she is on her way to the farm. ‘By the way, Aunty, it is Ifeoma, not Ifeyinwa.’ How can you be so dumb? I thought to myself after correcting her. ‘I-F-E-O-M-A,’ I spelled it out for her. This woman makes me sick, I scoffed, unconcerned about appearing impolite.

‘Oh, Ifeoma,’ she laughed.

She go still forget am, I thought frustratedly, faking a smile and turning to return inside.

‘Are you going to call ya mother?’

What is ‘ya mother’? I wanted to ask her, but I held back my words. Call her for what, kwanu? I almost questioned, but I took a deep breath and calmly replied, 'Yes, aunty. I am going to call her.’

She gave a hearty smile.

I just wanted her to get out of my sight. I didn't want anyone talking to me at that point.

'Nwanne m nwanyị.' My sister. Mom emerged from the hut just as I was about to go inside.

‘Nwunye m,’ My wife. Mama Ngozi responded to my mother's call. ‘Nwunye m!’ They both hugged as if they had not seen each other in a long time.

‘Eh, Ifeoma, did you greet Mama Ngozi?’ Mom inquired as I was about to make a successful exit.

‘Ahah! Na me and Ifeyinwa dey talk since.’

Ifeyinwa ke? I shook my head, concluding that my mother's friend suffered from severe memory loss. I nodded my head and dashed into our hut, knowing Mom could be quite elaborate when it came to highlighting someone. I hadn't been inside for long when Mom rushed in.

‘Erm, Ifeoma, warm the food. Eh. Your father and I are going somewhere.’

Dad jolted out of his room as she spoke. He bit down hard on his chewing stick, all dressed up.

‘Wait. Where are you people going?’ But neither of them spoke.

'Just warm the food,' Dad managed to add to what Mom had said. 'Under no circumstances should you leave the house!' It sounded more like a threat than a command, as if he was concerned that something would happen.

'Papa, could you please explain what is going on?'

Mama dragged him along, leaving me even more confused.

Something's wrong—I dreaded the thought that it was. I clapped my hands and watched them disappear on the other side. ‘Oh! Na wa o!’ I thought aloud as I folded my arms. These people think I am a kid, I shook my head with regret. I remembered Mama's instruction and set aside the plates to warm the unripe plantain porridge. After that, I went about my chores, had breakfast by the time the day had broken well, and slept off as if a sleeping spell had been cast on me.

By the time I awoke from my slumber, time had passed. ‘Mama…! Oh!’ I suddenly remembered. I had even left the door open, ignoring an important safety precaution. ‘The devil is a bastard!’ I had no idea when I said it out loud. I stood up from my mat, exhausted, and went to close the door. But where might Mama and Papa be? My mind sprang to life again. My parents still hadn't returned. 'N'ehihie ma ha ka na-alọghachi,' I was forced to speak in my native tongue. Afternoon and they are still not back—

Or should I go look for them? I thought, unevenly worried. Something was obviously wrong.

I waited for my parents to get home that day. It was becoming dark. I paced around the compound, worried, before deciding it was time to look for them. Paying less attention to my appearance and setting off, I hurried to the only person who came to mind. His hut wasn't too far away. I was there in no time thanks to the speed with which I bolted in that direction. He was out in front, perched on a low stool. The lantern he turned on lit up his form as it burned brightly.

'Okonta,' I called in a low voice, trying not to panic.

‘Ifeoma?’ He raised his head in response to my voice.

'Okonta, please, I need your help,' I said in an almost tense tone.

‘Wetin sup?’ He stood up from the stool, his anxious gaze fixed on me. 'Mommy nko?’

I nervously answered, ‘That is why I’m here,’

He raised his brows. 'Aru adikwa?' Are you well?

‘Okonta, Mama and Papa dey miss. I never see them since morning,’ My words became completely stuck. The lump in my throat gave me a croaky voice, and it appeared that I was about to cry.

‘Since morning? Mba nu.’  No nah. Okonta shrugged his shoulders. ‘And they have never done this before?’

I shook my head, starting to get scared.

‘I’m coming. Let me put on something,’ I could see the worry in his eyes. Okonta was like family to me. I had known him for almost my entire life and had complete trust in him. He was a man in his thirties, tall and muscular, with a well-carved-out jaw, full-gifted brows, and a chiseled nose. I once admired him, but I had to get rid of the thought because he was family and my parents would never approve.

I watched as Okonta went inside, leaving me with no choice but to look at the stars. It was the only way I could distract myself, but I couldn't stop worrying.

‘Chineke!’ Okonta's voice echoed from his room.

‘Okonta?’ But the entire place became quiet again. I hurriedly entered the hut, and the door slammed behind me.

‘Shh. Do not say a word.’

I turned to my surprise.

'Trust me, it will be quick.'

I didn't know what he was talking about. Before I could say anything or inquire about what was going on, he lifted me beyond my will. He was far too strong, and all I could do was yell as he carried me into his room...



To be continued...

‘If only one could see the future,’ Ugomma rose from the chair and looked out the window. She could see the children playing innocently and without concern below. Seeing them made her smile. How lucky, she thought, knowing they had nothing to worry about. She looked down at her stomach, filled with pain and despair. Bringing the little creature into the world was the last thing she wanted, but it was unavoidable and she had no choice. Her eyes welled up with tears as she thought of her little bun. It was too innocent for the world it was about to enter. Too innocent to have to start a life it never wanted. She wanted to turn back the hands of time, but it was too late. If only she had seen beyond his sweet words and deceptive gestures. With bitter tears, she wished she had not rushed into the beguiling hands of marriage. Her mind wandered to the time he proposed to her. The man of her dreams. At least he was at the time. He looked almost unrecognizable now. She could picture him on one knee, smiling up at her. They had only been dating for two months when he decided to propose.

‘Babe, what are you doing?’ She had not expected it. It seemed like a dream.

‘Esther, Sweety, will you marry me?’ He wasted no time in saying the words, addressing her in his favourite way.

Ugomma had never been happier than she was that day. It was a delightful and unexpected moment. Her mind returned to reality as she wiped her tears, wishing not to cry any longer. She was going to do it for the baby. Her little bundle of joy was on its way. She shifted her gaze from the window to the picture on the wall. 'Five years,' she wondered aloud. "Five years of unending suffering," she shook her head, staring at herself and the demon posing as her husband, who had become her nightmare. She groaned furiously and attempted to remove the picture from the wall, but her feelings betrayed her. Her legs were completely rooted to the ground.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ An angry voice rang out from the door.
Ugomma turned her head in the direction of the sound. Speak of the devil, she thought with a terrified expression.

‘Am I not talking to a living thing?!’

'M-my Lord,' she struggled to maintain her stance.

'Do not "My Lord" me!' The furious buffed figure roared at the sound of her voice. "Did you not hear me come in?" He asked, not allowing his wife to respond.

Ugomma knew it was going to be one of those days where he would lose his mind over something trivial. She attempted to apologize, but it was too late. ‘I-I’m sorry…’ but the beast couldn’t be tamed. Before she could say another word, she saw herself on the other side, covered in her own blood. His beastly form had reappeared, and she could not escape this time. If only she could turn back time, she thought as her eyes slowly closed.

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I'm a big fan. Really enjoying your book. And I so love how you use your words. You're a great writer

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Please, all of my stories are complete on Nairaland. Except for Luciano, which is available on Wattpad.

For those who are interested in reading my previous works. Here is where you can access them 👉. https://www.nairaland.com/8189991/all-jessica-durus-stories

Oh, and for those I removed from Nairaland, you can contact me for them.

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You can also check out my story 👉 JETHRO AND THE STRANGER https://www.nairaland.com/8230813/jethro-stranger-other-short-stories

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NEW ARRIVAL >>> SHORT STORIES COLLECTION 7 [JETHRO AND THE STRANGER & OTHER STORIES] >>> https://www.nairaland.com/8230813/jethro-stranger-other-short-stories

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Copyright © 2024 Jessica Duru
All rights reserved

The right of Jessica Duru to be identified as author of this work has been asserted in conformity with copyright law. No part of this publication may be reproduced l, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the permission in writing from the author.


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Jethro and his father lived in a far away land. His father was a fisherman who was very interested in his job. Every morning, he would go out to the river and catch a lot of fish to sell. He usually brought home the leftovers, which he and his son would eat for dinner. Jethro wanted to go to the river, but his father refused to let him tag along. He was always upset when he disagreed, but he had no choice but to sit at home. The young lad had wanted to explore the river since he was a child. Afterall, he was his father’s son. He came from a long line of fishermen and aspired to be one himself someday.

One faithful morning, Jethro decided to follow his father. He walked behind him, taking care not to be noticed. They were nearing the river, as the young lad could tell by looking up ahead. As he walked, his heart beat in rhythms he hadn't felt before, knowing what he would face if he was caught. He gulped, trying not to make any noise. He knew what he was doing was wrong, but he was determined to carry on. I've come a long way, he thought to himself, unwilling to give up. As he tried to quicken his pace, he realized he was alone. His father was nowhere to be found, and he had no idea how he had lost him. Where did he go? He was literally right there, he stood motionless, lost in thought. He was convinced he had been following him and was perplexed for a moment. The river he had seen before had vanished alongside. He was confident he had seen one and wondered if his mind was playing tricks on him. 'I am sure there was a river,' he said out loud, becoming more perplexed. He considered going back, but he was curious about what had happened to his father. But where exactly could he be? He pondered once more. There was no other path he could have taken, and the thought that he might have been following a different entity terrified him. 'No. My mind must be playing tricks on me,' he said, shrugging his shoulders. His thoughts drifted back to the river, prompting him to rub his eyes. He needed to ensure that he was fully awake and not imagining anything.

After standing for a while in the hope that his father would appear, Jethro decided to go home. He had grown tired and had run out of patience. 'It's high time I went home...' he abruptly paused. He realized he wasn’t alone.

‘Are you lost, boy?’

Jethro examined the white-bearded man. 'U-ututu oma,' he said in his native tongue, terrified. Good morning. He was surprised to see the haggard-looking man with a long stick.

‘Are you lost?’ The man questioned Jethro once more.

Jethro was completely speechless. He was afraid to speak because he knew the man was a stranger.

'Are you deaf?' asked the man harshly, leaving Jethro with nothing but a terrified stare. ‘You are treading on dangerous grounds, boy!’ He spoke in a terrifying tone. His voice filled Jethro with fear, causing him to shiver where he was.

What does he mean by "dangerous grounds"? People walk this path every day, Jethro thought, unsure whether to run.

‘Are you not Jethro, the son of Ikenna, the great fisherman?’

Jethro gasped as he realized the strange-looking man knew his father. ‘Are you a friend of my father?’ He inquired, shocked.

"Everyone knows your father, boy," laughed the haggard-looking man, beckoning Jethro to come.  ‘Walk with me,’ he said.

‘But you’re a stranger,’ Jethro countered.

‘A stranger?’ The old man thundered in displeasure. 'I am a fisherman, just like your father, Jethro. I mean no harm,' he tried to assure the boy. 'I can take you to your father,' his voice was calm, but Jethro was still afraid of him and refused to go with him.

'I do not know you.'

The old man let out a frustrated sigh. ‘You do.’

But Jethro remained unconvinced. He was a bright child who knew all of his father's friends. 'I will not follow you,' he yelled, taking a step backwards, but the bearded man refused to give up.

'I am a friend of your father,' he repeated, as if Jethro had not heard him before. ‘Come. I will take you to him, I promise. Don’t be scared. Come.’ He began to get closer with each step Jethro took. ‘I said come!’ He attempted to grab the boy, but it was too late.

Jethro relied heavily on his legs; he ran as fast as they could carry him, not caring about looking back. By the time he arrived at his hut, he was out of breath, weary, and shaken to the core. He was surprised to see his father at the entrance to their hut, with a worried expression on his face. 'Where have you been?’ The tired-looking man questioned him.

The young lad rushed into his father's arms without hesitation. He had had a long day, and all he wanted to do was forget about it. 'I promise not to go any farther away from the house, Papa,' he muttered breathlessly while hugging him. He had learnt his lesson the hard way and promised never to tell anyone what had happened that day.







I'm terrible at leaving notes beneath stories, but please tell me what you think of the story. I would really appreciate your feedback. Many thanks!

Kawo9ze:
I do comments on post n also some times I get carried away n not being able to, so I can say it isn't pride

Was smiling while reading this

SheWrites:
Baby girl 🤗

It's really good to have you back!