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Literature / Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by Centino: 8:13am On Nov 23, 2022
5991ayo:
Mr cosmos said, God spirit cn nt reside in human bt what cn u say abt Daniel in d bible who av d excellent spirit pls explain

"Excellent spirit" is not the same as God's spirit.

Write clearly, man.

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Literature / Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by Centino: 10:35pm On Nov 13, 2022
NDI’s CROSS

ASUU got a rude shock when the Federal Government only paid eight days of their expected eight months’ salary upon the resumption. A breakaway faction called Congress of Nigerian University Academics (CONUA) was swiftly recognized by the Federal government which also began to pay their eight-month salary backlog. The saga had not ended after all. The pump price of petrol began to subtly yield to market forces. Artificial scarcity for a week or two and then the product became available again with new prices on display with no official word from the Petroleum Product Pricing Regulatory Agency (PPPRA) whose function it was to fix prices. Tinubu and Atiku continued to cherry-pick where to make an appearance in their presidential campaigns citing ‘busy schedules’ while Peter Obi continued to be ubiquitous such that you wondered if there were more than one of him. A US court released papers on an order of criminal forfeiture granted against Tinubu in connection with drug dealings in Chicago in the 90s. While this caused a rumpus on social media back home, mainstream media continued to stay mum. Festus Keyemo attempted to bamboozle as to the real facts of the matter. A PDP spokesman on Channels TV said that if the matter went to court that Tinubu could be barred from contesting the 2023 presidential elections. Buhari still found time to go to London. Osinbajo finally crawled out of hibernation following his Presidential primaries’ humbling. US midterm elections showed how steeply divided America had become along party lines, with abortion occupying a big portion on the ballot papers. The world was still getting to terms with a coloured man occupying 10 Downing street. President Zelinsky was feeling brash following a historic recapture of Kherson and the retreat of Russian forces, even as Russia bombed Ukraine's energy infrastructure to ensure the Ukrainians froze to death in the winter.

At 225 Katakata Street, Achike had made a discovery that was threatening to bring down the house that morning.

“Taa Ogbu! You gave gone too far this time. What respect do you have for me? What respect do you have for my wife? What respect do you have for the institution of marriage and the extended family for doing what you did?”

“Brother I be man. I no rape the woman. She no be your wife!”

“You are even talking back at me!” Achike thundered.

“Brother comot eye for dia. Why you no fit face ya wife. This woman na your wife?”

“She is my wife’s mother! She is family! Do you think this is blue film? This is an abomination! It is like sleeping with my mother! Your mother!”

Chisco wanted to ask Achike to swear that he did not wish to sleep with his mother-in-law. He wanted to bring sand from outside and give him to lick if this behaviour of his was not borne out of jealousy. But the man had caught them red-handed in his home. Perhaps he was entitled to his righteous indignation. But the hypocrisy was too much for Chisco.

“Chisco you have a place of your own! Did you have to do it here? Are you not by this action telling me to my face that I am nothing? You did not even consider how my wife would feel. You did not even consider the possibility of my wife witnessing such filth!”

It was a most harrowing watch for Achike. Evae was pregnant again and was having many uncomfortable nights. This time the pregnancy made her nauseous and she needed to spit into a can at intervals around the clock. It was one of those times when she reached for the can to spit into that Achike stirred awake and was unable to go right back to sleep. He began to think about Eyonyam. She was fully recovered now from the gruesome attack and all his former designs on her had returned. He could go to the other room and take a peek at her sleeping form. Just to look, nothing more.

Achike opened the door of the adjoining room carefully. He did not want to wake her or Evae up. He just wanted to look.

His eyes adjusted quickly to the darkness and all his internal organs seemed to collapse, leaving him swooning and needing to hold on to the frame of the door for balance.

Silent sex was a skill you had to perfect in a face-me-I-face-you. You heard the occasional involuntary gasps when the thing hit a certain spot but even that was mostly stifled because nobody wanted Mr Zubi’s rascals singing their names in the morning unless you were Jide Falomo and Funbi. But responsible family men and those who stole the sex knew how to bask in it in utmost privacy with an eventual abdominal protrusion the only evidence of physical procreation having happened. This was stolen sex executed to stunning perfection.

If they were doing doggy style or something along that line Achike would have felt somewhat better. At least he would have accepted that Chisco only wanted to maximize her famous posterior and that it was not anything serious. But there they were, copulating the missionary way. Slow, deep, and passionate like they wanted to conceive the messiah. He watched Chisco’s hard bottom go up and down Eyonyam whose body he could not see as he would have liked as Chisco totally dominated her essential parts. She spread her legs wide and was running her hands all over his back. She would at intervals grab his buttocks and push him even deeper into her. Chisco himself also passed his hands under her and found what Achike was sure was her comfortable soft nyash and kneaded them steadily as he continued to drive heavenly strokes into her. How did they manage to stay so silent? Their bodies moved in appropriate tandem, but how could their vocal cords be that cooperative under such circumstances? There was nothing they could however do about the occasional queefing from her vagina. The thought of how wet she could have been for that sound to emanate threatened to drive Achike crazy.

Achike was angry and excited at the same time. The small goodness in him begged that he not interrupt them. They went to great lengths to forgo the need to moan because they did not want him to hear. They did consider his feelings. They were both single. The familial boundaries he always alluded to to discourage them he knew was nonsense. If anything, it only applied to him and not Chisco. But they would still leave his house in the morning.

“No fear! No respect! No regard! My wife could have walked in on you. Do you know how traumatic that would have been for her? Her own mother! And you, woman! What do you have to say?”

Eyonyam did not say anything. She looked at him in such a meaningful way that Achike immediately changed the prepared verdict. Only Chisco would now be barred from the house. Chineke what was that he saw in her eyes!

Oh, men! Eyonyam thought. She did not want to leave her daughter. She could not. She knew how quickly things could unravel. Ever since she returned from the hospital she could sense that something was going to happen soon. It did not feel like it was going to be something pleasant. And the only person that could protect her daughter and her infant and unborn child was her. Achike was a small price to pay to ensure that.

*

Ndifreke stared at the porous mansonia wood as Maya jammed the door in his face. He turned the door handle to no effect. He scratched his head and looked around to be sure no one witnessed his embarrassment. He saw Josephine retreating into her inner room from the corner of his eyes. A few other curtains swayed in a manner suggesting that they had recently been ruffled. He was sure that it was not only Josephine that had gone to their door to eavesdrop. He made a slow deliberate walk through the corridor and down the stairs and back to his room. Still troubled, he decided to seek out Mr Cosmas.

Neighbours were going up and down the corridor and to and fro the backyard just as the queue at the toilet and bathrooms continued to get longer. Mothers were shouting at recalcitrant children. Fathers were barking at their wives and everybody. The unique face-me-I-face-you smell of onions frying in hot oil together with that of pungent medicated soaps from the kitchen and bathrooms that were close to each other wafted into the corridor causing Ndirfreke’s stomach to churn in protest.

Achike and Chisco were arguing loudly. Just as Irikefe emerged with a frying pan with which he walloped Carbondioxide’s head. Irikefe rushed to his side to explain as he saw Ndifreke. They had not been on speaking terms since he fired him and Castro from his stillborn business. But at that moment, Ndifreke could see the instant regret in his eyes following the assault on the boy and Irikefe’s need for either validation or a shield because Prince White had gone back inside when his son yelped in pain and everyone knew that that meant he was returning with a machete.

“See this yeye boy and him Papa o! Yesterday the useless afin approached me and said we should at least be friends since we live together. He sweet-mouthed me that he was going to give me sure odds to stake this weekend because he works in a betting shop. I then fried eggs and gave them small but because I was feeling somehow in my tummy I did not eat my own. I left it in the cupboard. Only for me to wake up this morning and Oxygen or whatever his stupid name is had finished the egg in the frying pan!”

Continue reading https://katakatastreet.com/2022/11/13/ndis-cross/

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Literature / Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by Centino: 11:24am On Oct 24, 2022
tsharp:
Great update boss. Chisco ignoring his spirit guide is the same thing as most of us going ahead to do wrong despite that still small voice we all hear warning us. Could that be our spirit guides too? Tough one for sister Esther. Pls Centino answer this. How come Eyonyam got to her despite her being so prayerful. Pls answer boss. Josephine and Joseph was predictable. But Josephine's words hmmm. Ndi really should leave Maya alone after having been with Clementina.

I knew I'd find you here too grin

I answered your questions over at the site.

Amazing consistency. Thanks man.
Literature / Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by Centino: 12:00pm On Oct 23, 2022
REVENGE

The chaos raged on. Governor Wike and his comic band went all over the place endorsing rivals for political office and making crazy donations to people who did not need more money. Parts of the country were almost submerged in flood. Farmlands, moveable property, and human beings were being washed away like litter. The criminally taciturn Federal Government continued to keep mum. Peter Obi suspended his campaign to visit the victims. Speculation over the health and well-being of Atiku and Tinubu continued to overshadow campaigns, even as the latter at different fora dropped quote after quote that would make MKO Abiola turn in his grave. ASUU finally called off their nine-month strike. Oil theft stole the headlines as it was uncovered that about a million barrels of crude got stolen every day, nearly half of what the country, incapable of meeting her OPEC quota, produced. The economy continued to groan amid crippling debts. Food inflation would not abate. The Ooni of Ife scuppered all rationalization as he married wife after wife, week after week in recent times. Women of such substance as would make you rethink everything you knew about evolving times. Lizz Truss quit as UK prime minister after forty-four days setting a new record just as continued threats by Russia revived old nuclear fears in Central Europe.

Katakata street was quiet that night. Electricity supply had been good. The generators were given a rest. Twenty-four hour live television with foreign soap operas said hi. But for the occasional exclamations or urgent laughter or stifled moans from the varied activities ongoing in the different double room enclosures, it was the sort of atmosphere that brought out the best in anyone wishing to ponder about their life.

Chisco sat alone on the soak-away slab. He was alone only as far as a naked eye could perceive, for his spirit guide ensured that the conversation with himself never ceased.

“You are looking at her that way again. You never learn.”

“I have learnt. But she has a body like nothing I have seen before. She and her daughter.”

“You are a half-baked wizard now because of that body. Move back to your own place. In fact, move from this environment altogether and be what you purposed to be. You said in the coven you didn’t want a full initiation because you wanted to live like a normal person. It’s one thing to desire something and another altogether to take action. No matter how good your intentions are if you wake up in the same place every day doing the same things as before you will slip back into old habits faster than you can imagine.”

Eyonyam came out of the compound just then. His spirit guide fell silent and watched.

Chisco shifted uncomfortably on the soakaway. She wore a white tshirt without a bra. She tied a one-piece wrapper one inch above her knee. She looked this way and that way and when her eyes settled on him she approached and sat beside him.

“How you dey feel now?” He said to her.

“I dey fine.”

“Wetin been do you?”

“Dem broke my head na. Abi you don forget?”

“I know but I no con understand how you con enter coma. You just lie dia like dead body for two month.”

“You no like as I no die?”

“But why you no just wake up when dem repair ya head finish? Die you no die. Well you no well,”

“My inlaw which kind talk be dis one naw?”

“And when you wake up you con dey talk like mama Akunna. Small time you go talk like yaself. You let Mama Akunna dey talk with ya mouth. Now I wan know wetin dey happen. You don get yaself finish abi you still dey share ya head with Mama Akunna?”

“I be myself. That woman remove ten nut for my head with dat pilon. She no go carry dat pikin wey dey her belle.”

“Wetin you wan do?”

“Make we dey look. D man no marry am. As d man dey fvck me na so hin dey fvck am. Wetin make am tink say hin fit wound me like dat? We go see,” she finished with a snap of her fingers.

Chisco thought about Sister Esther and her pregnancy. What now?

“I no know wetin I been dey talk when I wake up. But my head don correct now.”

“You even say you wan begin sell ogogoro.”

“I tell you say I don get myself now. Make I show you.” She reached out and caressed his fly. His p*nis did not need a second invitation to stand at attention.

“You give me winch,” Chisco said.

“Sorry.”

“Me, Ogbu-Agu, because of you don turn to person wey dey fly for night.”

“Na you been wan fvck by force. I try make you leave me but you no gree. You fvck me come disgrace me ontop. Wetin I do you? When you put hand inside potopoto, you no know wetin go follow ya hand come outside.”

“I no wan live that life.”

“E go hard.”

“You go see. That winch, I no go do am.”

She was still caressing his fly. She squeezed and a moan escaped his lips.

“Get up and leave now,” his spirit guide said to him.

“Oya go look Evae and hin pikin,” Chisco said and put his hand over hers to stop her action.

“Dem don sleep. I come call you say make you come inside. Cold dey for hia.”

The breeze was cool following the light rain from earlier that day. No one had passed for five minutes. They could hear the sound of the television from one of the downstairs rooms. Eyonyam undid his zip with a dexterity of fingers that left Chisco’s mouth on the floor and took his hard flesh in her hand.

“Make we enter inside.”

“Don’t.” It was his spirit guide. As loud as Sister Esther of yore warning the Street about the perils of hell.

“No. I no want,” Chisco submitted meekly.

She did a quick 360° of her surroundings. Sure again that they were alone, she bent over him and slurped on his penis for a minute and came up again and said “Make we dey go.”

“Go back to your place instead,” came the voice from inside him.

Eyonyam, with hand strokes made smoother by copious spittle, enjoyed the tortuous look in his eyes as he battled with his higher reasoning. Another squeeze and Chisco was on his feet. He did not bother to disguise his nonchalance as she led him into the house.

Continue reading https://katakatastreet.com/2022/10/23/revenge/

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Literature / Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by Centino: 1:39pm On Sep 28, 2022
Centino:
Meanwhile, an important announcement coming....

Literature / Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by Centino: 1:38pm On Sep 28, 2022
Haakeem:
boss I read it two days non stop and was even looking for more.

I raise hand for you o.

You're a good writer indeed.


Fantastic. Nice to have you here man.
Literature / Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by Centino: 10:16am On Sep 28, 2022
Meanwhile, an important announcement coming....

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Literature / Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by Centino: 10:14am On Sep 28, 2022
Haakeem:
Nice story you got here.

I started reading two days ago and here I am waiting for update.

I have never read a story that got my attention like this.


Centineo you are good writer.


Guy did you say two days! This one brought me out of hiding grin

If you've read what is essentially books 1 2 and 3 in two days pls give me a call. E get why.

1 Like

Literature / Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by Centino: 7:01pm On Sep 11, 2022
ONE FOR THE ROAD

So the world motored on in a maelstrom of constant happenings. Russia sent forces to the Kharkiv region in Eastern Ukraine amid Kyiv’s continued fight back despite the odds. Sky high energy prices in the UK were forcing businesses to close and offering the new Prime Minister Lizz Truss solid political capital when her early pronouncement was to reassure citizens that no one was going to be cut off from energy supply whether or not they could afford to pay. As speculation swelled that Donald Trump was running for Washington again in 2024 a complicated web of investigations, civil suits, and countersuits were launched against the former president. A court in Thailand suspended the Prime Minister. Another Israeli Airstrike in Gaza killed more than eleven people. Fresh covid cases hit tourist hubs in Tibet and Hainan as China battled the outbreak. Brazil’s President Bolsonaro was throwing shades at Supreme Court justices and sowing doubt Trump-style ahead of upcoming Presidential elections. Darkhorse William Ruto won the election in Kenya giving hope to ‘Obidients’ in Nigeria, just as the words ‘vote wisely’ began to sound like a threat in certain quarters. Heck, Chelsea sacked a Champions league winning coach and replaced him with a greenhorn with flambouyant style the same day Queen Elizabeth II passes on to glory.

At 225 Katakata Street, Irikefe and Castro only wanted to know why the new albino tenant would name his only son carbondioxide.

“Is that his name?” Yes, Prince White said, as he continued to perspire profusely in his drab suit. .

“Carbondioxide?” Irikefe echoed.

“Yeees!”

“You born am inside lab?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“God abeg ooo!”

“Please explain that phrase.”

Castro dragged Irikefe to a corner.

“Aswear e be like say Alhaji Sirika dey use this compound dey do experiment. Where hin dey see all these kind people? First na Agbonyibo with hin crooked back, then Alfa with him battalion and Iniquity. Now this one!”

Irikefe scratched his head. “Guy I no just know. How I wan run this kind thing now?”

“Mr Irikefe please don’t keep us waiting. Oxide, oya come begin dey carry awa things go inside!

“Mr Irikefe!” Castro mimicked and chuckled. That was a new one.

Oxide broke into a dance to an imaginary song in his head. He grabbed a small rolled mattress that could fit under an armpit and chucked it there. With the other hand, he picked a plastic bucket that contained plates and bowls, and cooking utensils. It was when they got to the front of Irikefe’s door that Irikefe realized the problem. Castro spoke as he stood scratching his head.
“Na only this one door una get. Bros you don get new family.”

*

“Tell me, young friend,” Mr Cosmas said, seeing that Ndifreke needed prompting. It was a chilly evening following rain showers that had most of the compound members ensconced in their rooms, helped by the improved electricity supply Lagos was enjoying at the time. Ndifreke avoided his place and went straight to Mr Cosmas’ self-contained on his return from the prophetess’. He peeked at his phone and shuddered. “I’m in the room waiting for you. It’s raining. I’m n*ked.” From a fifteen-year-old. What had he gotten himself into?

“The woman consults in the church vestry and lives there. It’s not worshiping day so people who want to see her go there. I understand on worship days everything happens in the main building. There were others seated on a bench awaiting their turn. Three people were ahead of us. Each spent approximately thirty minutes with the woman. When it was our turn, we went in. She sat in a chair and there was a small wooden centre table separating her and the two chairs opposite her for guests. She saw a maximum of two at a time if they were together. The table was covered with white cloth and it had a bell, a vase with artificial roses, and a white bible on it. We greeted her and Elizabeth introduced me as a friend. The woman was surprisingly young and I dare say beautiful. Had silky chocolate skin and spoke good English. She didn’t ask any questions. She just returned our greeting and said we should pray. I closed my eyes, she prayed, and when she finished she started telling me about my life. Mr Cosmas…I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

“Go on,” Mr Cosmas said.

“She said my people in the village were responsible for all my problems. She said they teamed up with the witches in the compound where I live to derail my destiny. She said there was an old woman and infant child that were witches there and manifested as birds that they helped my people to mess up my life. I told her about the dream and she said it was God revealing to me the source of my problems. She told me Maya was my soulmate with whom I was to achieve great things. She told me that the enemies saw this and planted discord between us. She said everything that happened was they trying to keep us apart. She said my appetite for women was unreal. That what I heard in my dream explained everything. She said I should stop every relationship I have now and return to Maya.
“I confessed that I did not see how that was possible given that I was now involved with Maya’s sister with Maya’s tacit blessings. But she said Maya was not happy about it. She said that if we continued that there would be a serious problem between the sisters that would take someone’s life. She affirmed that the child Maya is carrying was mine. That I should go and beg her and take her out of this compound as soon as I could. She said I will first fast and pray for seven days and on the seventh day I should return to the church and they would consecrate water for me to have my bath and cleanse me. She assured me that as soon as I did that that the evil hands on my case would wither away and my appetite for women, which was unnatural, would diminish and Maya would take me back. She said I should have been free when the witch died but that I was already too deep into it such that liberation would only come if I did as the Holy Spirit directed. What do you think sir?”

“Do as she said.”

“Is she right? Is it true I was reprogrammed to be promiscuous? How can I get back with Maya after everything? What will I do with Clementina? As we speak she is on my bed naked waiting for me.”

“How did your friend feel?”

“Elizabeth?”

“Yes.”

“We were silent all the way back home. She only said goodbye when we got here and went inside her compound. I know that it was a final goodbye.”

“Send her a text later and thank her. She may have saved your life.”

“I thought you said we did not need prophets and could go it all alone?”

“You must first learn to walk before you can fly. We are at different stages of development. For some, their starting point may even be a visit to the shrines of their ancestors. How do you expect people who cannot grasp the concept of keeping their thoughts pure to stave off evil currents with their own auras? They need help. In your case, you will do what the prophetess has said and in faith. But it all would have been unnecessary if you stood aright from the beginning.”

“What did I do wrong? What could I have done?”

Mr. Cosmas ignored the question and went on. “Do not think for a moment that you can blame any witch or wizard for what has become of you. Darkness will be darkness and do what darkness does. It behoves on you to radiate light at the appearance of which darkness dissipates. You had barely figured out where your first meal would come from when you started fooling around with Maya. The dark ones when they came saw the hole from where they could enter and did. Had you gotten your priorities right from the beginning, no power in hell as your pastors like to say would have come near you. As your holy book says, they shall surely gather…but whoever gathers against thee shall fall for thy sake. However, that passage does not mean that you turn yourself into a cesspit and expect not to have dirt thrown onto you. They gathered, they came, and they met you wide open and they majestically entered. It was your entire fault. If you were standing well, just one word of pure volition from you and they would have run 440 to hell where they belong. When you get out of this, practice the one true thing that would keep you far and above all principalities and powers, which is to keep the hearth of your thoughts pure, and from there you will see the wonders of the Almighty in your life.”

Continue reading https://katakatastreet.com/2022/09/11/one-for-the-road/

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Literature / Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by Centino: 6:54pm On Sep 11, 2022
ayamalexander77:
Please those of in lagos should take a short trip to katakata street and find out what has happen to our belove no225..

Bros na hunger. Everytime wey una dey enter my site dey comot dey avoid donate button and no buy book una nor want make I still dey write be dat grin
Literature / Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by Centino: 6:52pm On Sep 11, 2022
tsharp:
Happy birthday Centino. Glad to have you back boss.
Trust you are doing well.

Thanks bro.
Literature / Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by Centino: 6:52pm On Sep 11, 2022
Rick9:
Wow shocked Centino my own boss is back oh. I'm happy oh. Katakatastreet is back.

Yeah man! Have you seen the project that kept me away? Please do. Grab a copy. Money back guarantee.

https://www.nairaland.com/7211006/cupboard-skeletons
Literature / Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by Centino: 11:09am On Aug 09, 2022
Dreamchaser212:


Welldone oga centino, how can get the already completed book of this chapter of kataka street that you are presently writing ??

As you rightly said, I'm still writing it. As the story is in real time it will always be this way. When it reaches a certain volume it gets bound into the next book.

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Literature / Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by Centino: 4:17pm On Aug 07, 2022
Hello everyone,

The saga continues....https://katakatastreet.com/2022/08/07/claivoyance/

Cheerio!

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Literature / Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by Centino: 4:17pm On Aug 07, 2022
hottadiva:



Hi Centino, the book 2 that you say is available for purchase, is it the one you are writing now?

Nope.

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Literature / Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by Centino: 7:45pm On Aug 02, 2022
anneboy02:


Anneboy02@gmail.com

Tanks

Sent.

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Literature / Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by Centino: 4:23pm On Jul 30, 2022
Update on 225 Katakata Street loading. Mini hiatus due to life that keeps happening. Meanwhile have you read my new book Cupboard of Skeletons? Catch a snippet here
https://www.nairaland.com/7211006/cupboard-skeletons#114416982

Copies available at https://katakatastreet.com/

You sure want to grab one. Money back guarantee wink.

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Literature / Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by Centino: 4:10pm On Jul 30, 2022
anneboy02:


But I have was debited and also sent receipt of payment to my mail

Okay pls post your email address and we'll verify payment and send you your copy. Thanks.
Literature / Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by Centino: 7:58pm On Jul 22, 2022
damieskillz:
Centino baba. You really did a great job with Cupboard of Skeletons. I read it all night. Absolutely brilliant. Looking forward to other masterpiece from you.

Thanks man smiley

2 Likes

Literature / Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by Centino: 7:35pm On Jul 22, 2022
anneboy02:
Hi @centino, I made purchase for book 3 I was debited and the book wasn't sent and on the website the payment was showing waiting for confirmation cus it was thru transfer


A link to download would have been sent to your email and also on the same page where you paid.

You did transfer via the online payment right?
Literature / Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by Centino: 11:03am On Jul 12, 2022
5991ayo:
Weldon sir 4 d good work bt how can i sub and read d complete story @i am using a small phone .

Download book one for free and buy books 2&3 and read all of season one. Subsequently, you will have to read episode by episode as the story is written in real-time.

1 Like

Literature / Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by Centino: 11:00am On Jul 12, 2022
Kaycee9242:
Nice one centino pls do remember to be adding our current affairs discourse

Sure. Was cut out as I'd exceeded the projected word count.
Literature / Re: Cupboard Of Skeletons by Centino: 10:57am On Jul 12, 2022
“I have saved you from giving birth to a mermaid,” he said with a huge grin.

“Oh Kadja,” she exhaled, in greeting and in meek protest.

“Somebody might turn back and see...”

“I see you don’t realise how far behind the last person you are. Why take such risk?”

“If you are referring to the last one out giving birth to a mermaid, you know I don’t believe that nonsense.” She shook herself free of his hold.
Kadja bent under the basin on her head and attempted to kiss her, but she coughed and cleared her throat and he changed his mind.

“You must let me go if you don’t want me to collapse under this weight. I’ve had a hard day.”

“You still wash for the whole family?”

“What choice do I have?”

“Don’t worry. Soon I will come and marry you and all this will be history.”

“Thanks for the compliment,” she said and pulled further away from him. “I would rather believe a reverend father.”

“Don’t be silly Kemwe.You know how much you mean to me.”

“Again, thank you. Better go and do what you want to do because it is getting dark,” she said and marched on.

“I thought you would stay back so that we can leave together,” Kadja said, as his eyes followed her swaying hips.

“Do you want to kill me?” she said, as she turned into a curve on the track and disappeared, leaving a long weed with a yellow tip nodding at Kadja from the spot where she had been standing.

“Goodnight to you too” Kadja called in disappointment, and faced the path to the stream again.

He could see that the sun was now on top of the farthest afara, casting a golden hue over the approaching blackness. He broke into a run for the remaining distance to the stream and peeled off his clothes, as he got closer. Then, as he had done countless times in the past, he went into a somersault when he was close enough and entered the water leg first. He swam freestyle for a while to loosen his muscles, and then he floated on his back, and let his thoughts return to Smooth Constructions.

Kadja remembered how it all started. He was just rounding off his National service and was wondering what to do next when his mother called him up one day and said, “I got it from good authority that that foreign construction company that has the contract to repair our state would set up a base in Eweweta, because of her geographical advantage. The custom is for foreign companies to employ people from the community they make their base, so that they get good reception when they commence operations. I know that as soon as it becomes common knowledge the competition for places will get very stiff. So if you are interested we have to do something quickly.”

“Mum, if I am interested?”

His mother chuckled and said, “Just write an application letter with all the other documents attached and leave the rest to mama.”

Kadja did apply, for “any position in your esteemed organisation”.

So, one year after he had qualified as a political scientist, and two months after the fateful conversation with his mother, the new company employed Kadja.

Three years on, he had been part of the building of a new civil service secretariat for the state, a civic centre, twenty new roads, plus the many more they had refurbished. Still, he could barely meet his basic needs. Therefore when that morning Atapre led his gang of devils to the office, Kadja could not help but sneak behind a parked pick-up truck to wriggle his waist in excitement.

It was easy to predict the little men from the East he worked for. Kadja knew they would call Atapre’s bluff, just as they famously did to elders who went to plead with them following the events that took place when they first introduced the clock in/out machine, the first week Kadja joined the company.

Mr Uzi, the site manager and chief engineer, had arrived unexpectedly at the site on the day they were to carry out their first asphalt reinforcing, and announced that work would close half an hour earlier that day, so that everybody returned to the office yard on time for an important meeting.

At 4:30pm, they all gathered in front of the Administrative building in the yard. Then the middle aged Uzi, pale as a native egg, with skewed jaws like that of an accomplished boxer’s, without wasting time produced the clock-in/out machine and went into a rant about the attitude of the workers particularly in the area of punctuality.

“Nothing can excuse this. You all live in the bushes around here so you cannot say it is traffic or something like that that is responsible for your lateness. You only want to stay at home and Bleep your wives until you kill them before coming to work. We pay you money so we will not accept that!”

“You will put this card in here like this,” he demonstrated holding the apparatus that looked like an electric jug with a clock in the middle, up, “and the time you came to work will register automatically. When you close work, you push this button and put the card inside again. The time you rush back to your palm wine will also show. Everyone at the beginning of the month will come and sign for one card, which you will keep for yourself, by yourself. It is a dismissal offense not to clock in, or out. You must never clock in or out for anybody, or be found in the possession of another person’s card. If you are caught, it is dismissal as well. If we see at the end of the month that you have been late an unacceptable number of times, the feelings of the management of Smooth Constructions will be made known to you. And for those months when you are diligent you can be sure that the Almighty will bless you because you would have justified the money we pay you.”

Oseke – the only other graduate non-expert employee the following day mobilized the entire local workforce.

“We cannot sit back and watch this happen. What are we clocking for? Clock in/out machines are only employed where workers run shifts. We resume at eight and close at five. Or so they say. But how many times have we worked until nightfall without even a pat on our backs? How many times do we come here at eight and nobody is here to convey us to site? And don’t we all know what we are doing? Don’t we all know that the day we are clearing is not the same as the day we are compacting? Do they honestly want us out on the road clearing at eight when everywhere is still sopping in dew? When we asked for overtime, what did they tell us? Why would we not even come at seven if we know that the extra hours we are compelled to work would not go in vain?

“They tell us when it is five you are free to go, no overtime. But we all know what the outcome would be if we did that! To the best of my knowledge, this company has not been held to ransom in any way because of our so-called lateness. So what is this?”

The following day at eight o’clock, Mr Uzi in the company of another of his compatriot nobody had the time to introduce was already waiting at the briefing ground.

“Mr Oseke!” he called out as soon as all were gathered.

Oseke, thin as a bamboo branch, stepped out, chin up.

“Now listen here all of you. You are under no compulsion to work here. If you are not happy with anything, you are free to pack your things and leave. From now on there will be no more meetings. No more gatherings. You cannot have a union here! How many times am I going to tell you this? Don’t you know how lucky you are to be working here? If we put out word that we want workers, do you think Eweweta will contain the number of applicants we will get? Can your government give you jobs? Don’t you know that your salaries constitute an unnecessary overhead because most of you are useless, but we keep you here to make your chiefs happy and let us be? Don’t you know that we can get machines to do everything you do here?” addressing Oseke directly he said, “you say you are a graduate. What did you study?”

“Pharmacy, master.”

“Is this a medicine shop?

“No master.”

“So what are you doing here?”

“I am a raker master.”

“With all your schooling?”

“It is my destiny master.”

“Is that why you bring the madness of your university here?”

“No, master.”

“Universities where all you do is to make trouble and kill yourselves and then go on strikes and the next day you announce that you are doing convocation and people like you are turned out into the world?”

“I’m sorry, master.”

“From this moment you all stand fired!” Mr Uzi declared, waving a thick arm in an arc from left to right.

There were sighs of exasperation in the little crowd of about thirty. Suddenly an elderly labourer collapsed, jerked a few times and became still.

Mr Uzi was unflinching, while many of the workers looked anxiously at the supine old man, unsure of what to do.

Mr Uzi’s companion whispered into Mr Uzi’s ears. He appeared to be in thought for an instant then spoke up.

“You will all be converted to casual workers.”

There were uncertain glances all round.

“You will be paid only at the end of the day when we are sure you have done work. Even your clock-in card is not a guarantee that you will be paid. You may be considered for confirmation as a staff member after at least one year.”

Everyone now exchanged full horror glances and for a moment, they forgot about the fallen old man.

“This does not apply to you Mr Oseke. And if there are any other university been-tos among you I expect to have seen you here for the last time this morning.”

There was a shrill cry by the girl who cleaned the yard as Mr Uzi and his companion turned to go. She had the old man’s head in her hands. The man was dead.

It took another intervention by his mother for Kadja to remain employed by Smooth Constructions. That was the last concession the owners would give the community, as there was not going to be another non-expert graduate employee at Smooth Constructions.

Night was fast approaching now and Kadja could see the early promise of the expected moon. The water was so soothing that he was almost oblivious of the fact that he was alone in the middle of the nkeke forest where the stream stood. He was certain that he would have company in no time. Moonlight games always included trips to the stream for the brave and adventurous, and a swim in the moonlight was always attractive to more than one.

He eased out of the water and felt around the surfaces of the hewn boughs at the laundry section for a discarded piece of soap. He found one with which he lathered his body and dived back into the water. Just when he was beginning to get worried that there would be no one to leave the stream with he saw the silhouette of a person approaching. With renewed confidence, he dipped and tumbled in the water then pushed out to face the unmistakeable form of Kemwe. She just stood there like a moon goddess watching him, her figure titivating the night, inspiring spirited choruses from the creatures they could not see but knew abounded, causing spasms of delight to course through his body as he emerged to meet her.

“You did not tell me you were coming back.” He said and held her shoulders, the moonlight accentuating his grin.

“I have to take my chance now. I don’t know when I will see you again.”

“Oh please. Don’t start that,” Kadja said, unable to hide his excitement.

He suddenly realised how grateful he was to see her. He had been uneasy about being alone in the stream, even with a gleaming half-moon for company.

“I’ll get dressed so that we leave immediately. I’m getting cold and I will not leave you here for those crazy guys to come and bother you.”

“No one else is coming. Don’t you know what today is?”

Then he remembered. It was gege market day when moonlight games were a taboo as spirits roamed free and partook in all games, and always took a human being along by morning when they left.

“I forgot completely. Why then did you venture out?”

“My aunt sent me to buy kerosene when she knew I will not get it because nobody will sell to me tonight. I’m now convinced she wants me dead. I decided to come and die with you.”

As Kadja turned the information over in his mind, another owl hooted nearby and he felt warm air on his earlobes.

“We have to hurry out of here,” he said.

“Don’t tell me you are afraid,” Kemwe said with a sneer, and stepped away from him.

“I have always said you don’t belong in this village. You are so different from everyone else,” he said, and pulled her into an embrace.

“I’m different from all your other girlfriends, I know.”

That was what he meant but he said “Not that. You don’t think or act like anybody else I know around here.”

“Then I will go to the University next year. I’m already twenty.”

“You should. Really, I’m not surprised that every man that goes to ask your cousin’s hand in marriage ends up wanting you instead.”

“That is why they have decided to turn me over to the killing spirits tonight so that my dear cousin will finally get a suitor.”

Kadja no longer felt the chill. They were now close enough for him to share her body heat. Then he slowly began to run his hands over her.

“How many times have you done this?”

“Done what?”

“Smooch a girl in this stream after the moonlight games.”

“Never.”

“I have heard.”

“Lies.”

“If we make it till tomorrow, I will make sure I maim any girl that comes near you from now on.”

“That will not be necessary, trust me.”

“Nobody enjoys sharing a broad chest and strong arms and succulent red lips.”

“That is certainly not your lot Kemwe dear.”

“It’s just sad that I will be destitute by tomorrow.”

“You will not be destitute by tomorrow.”

“I know what I’m saying.”

“Well then, we’ll see about that.”

“What are you thinking, bad boy?”

Without warning Kadja whispered her name, and in one swift manoeuvre twisted her to back him and bent her over.

“What are you doing? Oh… not here…the spirits…ah!”

FIND THE COMPLETE STORY AT https://katakatastreet.com/

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Literature / Re: Cupboard Of Skeletons by Centino: 8:14am On Jul 11, 2022
1

Kadja went over his closing report and beamed. He knew his grammar and punctuation were suspect, but he did not care. His superiors barely knew the difference between a noun and a verb, and the whole business of writing a closing report was something he contrived to impress his superiors, and in time it became useful as a closing time cue for employers who would squeeze out every nickel they paid regardless of contractual stipulations. So he swaggered past the foreman, who had deliberately perched himself by the door of the Potters cabin with thick arms folded across his breasts and face contorted to the correct degree of sternness that should warn Kadja to return to work along with the others. But Kadja brushed past like the man was not there, and found the presence to wink at a marveled colleague who was pushing a wheelbarrow full of newly supplied cartons of hand tools and entered the administrative building.

Moments later Kadja re-emerged waving his clock in/out card, which registered 5:32pmin the column marked “out”.

“My contract says 8am – 5pm Monday to Saturday” Kadja always maintained, “why would I pretend someone would finally notice my diligence?”

Back in the Potter’s cabin, Kadja quickly peeled off his work clothes and eased into his faded blue jeans and T-shirt, which borethe inscription I am rich but I don’t show it.

Most of the other boys at closing grabbed buckets of water and washed at the backyard under the almond tree, but Kadja never bothered. He would wash when he got home. Or, on days when the mood was right, he would head to the stream for a swim.

It did not surprise him that the foreman was no longer in the vicinity when he re-emerged from the potters’ cabin. Nobody made Kadja do any work Kadja did not want to do. He was entitled to some concession for being the best raker Smooth Constructions had.

With his first step out of the gate, Kadja inadvertently kicked at the hull of a thoroughly sucked orange, tipped it up, and began to juggle on both feet as he went along, to cheers from hawkers and other pedestrians.

He got to a T-junction where he had to cross the road, and turned towards a compound where children were playing football, he aimed a shot at their mini goalpost, his orange hull missed the post by only a few inches. The boys cheered in admiration. They were all familiar with Kadja’s footballing skills, Kadja being skipper of the community football team that participated in a recent local government tourney. Kadja waved both hands at them, dashed across the road and wheeled towards the track that led to the Nkeke stream.

As he ambled along the bush track, his mind raced back to his childhood to recall how the environment used to fill him with so much terror. It was impossible to be unaffected by the legion of chirping creatures, howling wildlife, and hissing reptiles that did not always stay out of view in the dense vegetation in the middle of which sat the stream.

Even in the company of adults, he would feel his skin crawl with every chirp he heard, his head would swell and become giddy with every growl that sounded, and he would reach out and clutch his older companion tighter.

But over time, with no incident of note owing to this necessary cohabitation of man and wildlife, Kadja, just as the many that came from far and near, had learnt to enjoy the pleasures of the Nkeke forest unperturbed.

Kadja soon passed by the last batch of villagers returning from the stream. Boys and girls with jerry cans of water on their heads hurried along the path as the sun retired. They walked with great urgency, despite the weight on their heads, to avoid bringing up the rear. They slowed their pace and resumed their chattering when they saw Kadja headed in the opposite direction. There was no way any of them would be the last out now. Some of them greeted Kadja with awe. Others avoided looking at him for fear of unwittingly sharing in the fate that could await him.

Kadja was delighted to see Kemwe at the end of the procession. She had a basin of laundry on her head and had swum in the gauzy dress she wore, which left the dripping gown pasted to her body, giving prominence to her abundant breasts, round hips, and straight legs. She did not see Kadja immediately because her gaze were fixed at the ground, as she took care to get her every step right. She only saw a bold pair of hands reach out to gather her surging breasts – a liberty Kadja was no stranger to taking.

1 Like

Literature / Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by Centino: 6:55pm On Jul 10, 2022
Hello everyone,

Happy Sunday.

See the latest https://katakatastreet.com/2022/07/10/family-affair/

Enjoy.

6 Likes

Literature / Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by Centino: 4:10pm On Jul 04, 2022
Hi everyone, as promised, I'll be dropping snippets of my new novel titled Cupboard of Skeletons here in the lit section. Gonna be super stingy with it so y'all can go and buy grin

Here's the thread:

https://www.nairaland.com/7211006/cupboard-skeletons

5 Likes

Literature / Re: Cupboard Of Skeletons by Centino: 4:06pm On Jul 04, 2022
Complete novel available here https://katakatastreet.com/

Literature / Cupboard Of Skeletons by Centino: 4:05pm On Jul 04, 2022
All rights are reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior permission of the author.

© 2022

CUPBOARD OF SKELETONS

PROLOGUE

Atapre skulked through the bush track, rounded the small hut, and stood in the veranda like a spectre.

Tekete perceived the newcomer and sprang up from the bench where he had been napping. He regarded his visitor.

In silence, both men moved towards each other, clasped hands together, raised them skyward in a ball, and murmured something under their breaths. Then they disentangled their hands, lifted their wrappers, turned their backs, and rubbed their bare buttocks together. They then faced each other again and pumped hands in a more orthodox greeting.

“May I sit?” Atapre said.

“Yes, my friend,” Tekete said, and wiped imaginary dust from the bench with the ear of his wrapper and made space so Atapre could settle beside him.

After a moment of silence, Atapre said, “did you hear that the people building the new road came and shared drinks and money?”

“I heard.”

“Did they come to you?”

“No.”

“Did they go to the others?”

“I don’t think so. Someone would have told me.”

“You mean we got nothing?”

“Seems so.”

Atapre gazed at the hard-packed mud of the veranda floor, tapped his bare feet, and shook his head.

“Why would they be so stupid?”

“Maybe they are afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

“Death.”

“But we have not killed anybody for one year now.”

“They don’t know.”

“Nowadays we only give trouble to those who ask for it.”

“They don’t know this, my Lord.”

Atapre sighed. Tekete watched as his pupils dilated and the skin around his eyes tightened even as he continued to glare at the earth. Tekete knew the meaning of that look. He twisted excitedly in his seat. Nothing stimulated him like the thought of evil.

“Then what shall we do?”Tekete goaded.

“Summon the others”, Atapre said. “We will wash the road away.”

4 Likes

Literature / Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by Centino: 4:41pm On Jul 03, 2022
Hi Everyone,

Been a while grin

I no been well, before una go think say I don disappear again.

You can hop over now and see the latest https://katakatastreet.com/2022/07/03/rain-delight/

Don't forget to drop your thoughts and donations mbok grin

Have a great week ahead folks.

7 Likes 3 Shares

Literature / Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by Centino: 11:05am On Jun 28, 2022
nnamdiosu:


It's already in the store.

There are three books on the site.
Book 1, book 2 and book 3. The first is free, the others are 600 and 1k respectively.

He is working on the continuation of book 3.

Centino confirm I'm in other pls

Yes, you are except for the last sentence. Books 1 - 3 make up a whole season. The story continues as Season 2 and the next book would be book 4 or Book 1 Season 2.
Literature / Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by Centino: 5:40pm On Jun 25, 2022
holicupp:
oga centino please how do i complete season 1 mbok help a brother

They are in 3 books. Book 1 is available for free download. 2 and 3 available for sale. Guy, buy abeg make your man see something hold body.

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