₦airaland Forum

Pass-It-On
You can do this exercise with one other writer friend, or a whole group. One of you starts a story, writes a section of it (a few pages or less), and then passes it on to the next writer for continuation. When it comes back to you, you’ll have to build on the creative contributions of others to write your next little piece. This works particularly well as creative relief.

You can start it as a thread on Nairaland; start the story or poem and PASS IT ON!

Watz up guyz...hope I didnt miss anytin?... any topic to write on?.. somebody shud plz fill me in..

Watz up guyz...hope I didnt miss anytin?... any topic to write on?.. somebody shud plz fill me in..

I'm already getting prepared for the battle ahead...I learnt alot and from you all,judges and competitors.

WINNERS BEWARE!!!
Itz gona be tough next time
@whitey and da other judges,I'm grateful

A critique's view....Nice!

For the past few weeks now, I've had
cause to feel weak and its really
telling on me. I couldn't even
differentiate between Victor (who was
smiling like a carrot because he was
impressing a fresher) and one of the
electric poles outside the common
room. If I had not heard his voice, I
would have walked right past him.
May God help me.
But then, brethren, I tell you the
truth: Fear old women and keep your
distance from them. Do not be
deceived by their frailty. Those peeps
are about the strongest persons in
the world. Has an old woman ever
held you by your belt? It would take
the grace of God to pry her fingers
from your belt. That was how one bus
conductor got himself into an
argument with a woman who looked
as if she was going to break the next
minute. The bone of contention? Just
10naira which the conductor was
supposed to give to her. Men and
brethren, the woman didnt argue
much. She just grabbed the guy's
belt and held him without saying
anything. The conductor couldnt hit
her because she was old neither
could he release himself from her
grip. Hehehehe. A well built man
could not remove an old woman's
hand from his belt. What would I
have done? Thank God the other
passengers prevailed and finally, the
woman opened her palms and let go.
As I walked away from the scene of
this 'kasala', I decided to always fear
old people. Its wisdom.
And so the rest of my day went very
well. I took my time to rest well
because I knew I we had no class. As
I sat discussing with some persons
outside, one of them suddenly said,
"not all that jitters is cold." Ehn
ehn? I just walked inside the room to
rest. The worms in my stomach
needed no more provocation. Even at
that, the incessant laughter of one
sister stopped me from resting. I had
to get up and snatch her phone from
her. Then I saw why she was shining
her teeth. One guy was chatting with
her and he sent, "ARE YOU
MARRIAGE?" What?! I simply helped
her reply, "No, I am wedding."
Mtcheew. Please, some guys should
stop falling our hands. Amen?
As my day drew to an end, I I
decided to join one fellowship in
praying for the new semester.
Everyone needs prayers, you know.
That was how they invited an Ibo
sister to come lead us in worship.
This was someone who liked to form
British accent oh. In fact, I have
personal beef for her. And so she led
us in 'warchip' whilst murdering her
own native songs. She was like:
"Email, email her. Email her, Jehovah
mail her. Ayinekele gymnastic email
her, email her. Jehovah mail her."
There and then, I made up my mind
never to sing that song again.
Goodnight.
**alights from bus, adjusts shoe lace
and begins trekking towards house.**
culled

I kept staring at the object on my
soft palm as i sat comfortably on the
sofa with my seat belt well tightened.
In the air i was yes but not really
sure if this is a journey i should be
making. My decision was irrevocable
cause in a few hours my plane will
begin to taxi on the runway of the
place my mom called hell.
She must have believed me to be
visiting a friend in Las Vegas
oblivious of the fact that i am out of
the continent to find the man she
told me was a monster.
I spined the white cowry sitting on
my palm with my finger clockwisely
as i remembered the day it was
given to me. It puzzled me why the
man was so desperate to give me
such an object, despite guns being
pointed at him by the security
agents, he ran to me without caring
if he get shot.
'Where ever you go, do not forget the
blood that flows in your vein' he said
as he slipped the object in my four
years old hand.
It's been a decade and half now but
i still remember the expression on
his face that day, it wasn't that of a
monster.
Eventhough mom and Teddy (my step
father) proved themselves as the best
parent to me, i still found it difficult
to get my mind off the monster and
his mysterious gift. I asked a black
friend Kunle who i met in the college
what the cowry signifies and he told
me it is a good luck charm that
symbolizes the strength of Africa.
I found myself entangled in the web
of curiousity, i wanted to know who
the monster was and what happened
at the court that day. My curiosity
drove me to find a document which
mum concealed in her room and I
learnt that she divorced the monster
whose named was Samuel Olatunji
Oladiti at the court that day. I felt
compelled to know the truth why
mom divorced him and what he did
to deserve being tag a monster.
I found the address of the attorney
who solicited for the man and i went
to seek him out. It was he who told
me how hard the man who happened
to be my father fought to keep me in
his custody when my mum sued for a
divorce but he lost the battle. The
attorney gave me his photograph and
also his current address in Nigeria
incase i wanted to pay him a visit.
Since the lawyer didn't fully quench
my information thirst, i set out on a
mission to find the monster.
After long hours, i felt the plane
jolted on the runway of my native
country. I came down from the plane
to feel the hot air of my mum's hell.
I grabbed a taxi outside the airport
to convey me to my father's abode.
The taxi driver kept staring at me
from his mirror as if i were a ghost.
It took me time to realise that it was
my light skin that amazed him.
The taxi finally stopped opposite the
huge gate of a duplex after what
seems like an endless ride.
'Is this the house?' i inquired and he
told me he was positive, after which i
rewarded him handsomely and he
went his way, leaving me to my fate.
I pressed the door bell twice but
heard no sound, gave the iron gate a
tap and heard someone shouted from
the inside. Minutes later a shabby
looking old man opened the gate.
'Oyinbo oooo' he shouted gleefully as
he saw me, he quickly ushered me in
and threw me a hug as if we were
longtime friend. I told him who i
seek and he led me inside to meet
him.
My heart beat faster with each step i
took into the house. We soon got to
the sitting room and found a man
whose face was buried beneath the
news paper he was reading.
'Oga you get visitor' the shabby
looking man announced.
The man put down the paper and i
got a clear look at his face. It was he,
the man who gave me the cowry. If
he recognised me i knew not but i
was elated to finally set my eyes on
him again.
'What can i do for you?' i heard the
monster said but i gave no reply.
I brought out the gift he gave me
and showed it to him. He went on
long pause for a few seconds before
he recovered himself.
'Marcus' he pronounced my name
and i saw the word bemuse written
over his face.
I nodded in confirmation and he
came at me with a deep hug which
lasted for about twenty-five seconds.
Within those seconds, i found the
solace i have missed for fifteen years
and when he withdrew from me,
tears materialized into his eyes.
'Why did you left dad?' i found those
words slipped out of my lips.
He ushered me to seat down and he
explained the whole issue to me. He
and mum were legally married and
they were both living happily until
Teddy came into the picture. He
caught mum and Teddy having sex
on their matrimonial bed and he
yelled at her but was surprised when
he saw the cops my mum called for
him. They took him away and the
next time he saw mum was at the
court where she divorced him and
striped him off all his properties and
his parentage right on me.
'This man didn't deserve being call a
monster, the real monster was my
mother who robbed an innocent man
of all he had' i thought after he
concluded his explanation.


Written by Oluwafunminiyi
Komolafe

Hey guyz...itz not yet over!
watch out for me in da next challenge...better dont relax on ya conquest yet cuz i'll surprise y'all.lolz
This competition is very healthy bcuz of u guyz,ma fellow competitor..i hail u guyz!

And to da judges,I thank you all greatly jare.Una too much joor!
whitemosquito
Larrysun
Royver
Repogirl da magician.lol
Who am i forgetting?

Itz ma first and the beginning of ME

@royver,tanx bro...na to correct mistakes remain..Other guyz really tried also..#respect!

@royver,tanx bro...na to correct mistakes remain..
All guyz really tried also..#respect!