₦airaland Forum

Thanks Cisse. I think you have a good point. I will try to be more descriptive of both characters and environment.

Thanks Litmus. I appreciate the input.

Thanks guys.@Raymagnate: I am a sister, not a brother. lol. @Mystquet: you are far from harsh. I have recieved same comments before so I'm sure there's something in it. I am making changes. My problem is I am always too turned on by the muse that all I want to do is get the story out. Your comments are really helpful. Thanks again.

No one else? Come on people...

Its actually Johnny Angel. Very silly book IMO.

You forgot 'murder she wrote'. I think that's her best work ever with 'Murder on the orient express' coming a close second.

McNally's Dilemma- Lawrence Sanders

The other side of midnight - Sidney Sheldon
Master of the game - Sidney Sheldon
Prince of Tides
Dolores Claiborne - Stephen King
Twilight
Rage of Angels - Sidney Sheldon
Valley of Dolls - Jacqueline Susanne

The only Danielle Steele novel that I found remotely interesting was 'Message From Nam'. And I think the angel book I referred to earlier is actually titled 'Danny Angel'. The title sef tire me.

Read Angel by Steele, and I guarantee you will never touch any of her books again. Its the most annoying and pointless book I've been unfortunate enough to read.

@Larry-Sun: Valley Of The Dolls, now that's some book! But I digress...

Thanks for the input Myne White. I'll make some adjustments.

Thank you.

It was sunrise in Tiba kingdom and as was typical of most kingdoms in the area, people were getting up to an early start. Tiba was a fishing community. Though the smallest in the area, it was the greatest in all other respects. Tiba’s greatness was a result of three major factors: the first being the mystery surrounding the origin of Tiba. All the other surrounding towns had stories surrounding their origins, but not Tiba. As far as the people were concerned, Tiba had always been. There was no other explanation. Even her kings couldn’t explain how the small fishing community came to be.

Another significant factor that singled Tiba out from her contemporaries was the fact that the kingdom, though small was very indomitable. Tiba had never lost a battle. This very fact in itself had a myriad of stories surrounding it.

The third and final lay in the river Tiba, from which the town got its name. The river was said to have therapeutic powers and could cure just about any malady. Thousands of people from neighboring towns trooped to Tiba in search of relief from various illnesses. Indigenes of Tiba however were forbidden from benefiting from this great bonus from the gods. They were also not allowed to prevent any other person from gaining access to the river.

In the Awa palace, the king of Tiba, Bado was also getting ready like most of his people. But there was no fishing expedition lined up for the king. His was a more important trip. Yao had summoned him last night and as usual, he was filled with trepidation. It was unusual for the king to leave the awa so early in the morning but the people had learnt not to question any of the king’s actions-at least not openly.

Bado had been king of Tiba for more than two decades, and his people loved him. His reign had brought peace in the land. He had fought and defeated all the enemies of his kingdom and this had earned him unrivaled greatness. No kingdom wanted to face Tiba in a war, not with Bado leading the troops. But Bado’s prowess as a warlord was not entirely responsible for his people’s reverence of him. Bado had fought the great Ijana and sent him cowering back to the jungle. Ijana the tiger had been the people’s totem until a priest of Ijana rebelled by refusing to sacrifice his only child to Ijana. Ijana had afterwards terrorized the kingdom by carrying off and devouring children. But bado had put paid to all that. Bado was a hero in his own land and beyond. Kings of other lands brought him all sorts of things to curry favor from him.

Bado’s birth had been foretold by a way faring priestess long before he was born. It had been a very hot afternoon and Bado’s mother Dali, then fifteen was splashing around in the river Tiba when the strangely dressed woman called to her. Dali thinking the woman had a heavy pot of water she needed help with reluctantly waded to the bank. The woman had stared at her for a long time and Dali herself began to regret responding to the woman’s call. There was something in the strange woman’s eyes that both mystified and hypnotized her. When the woman noticed Dali was casting furtive glances at her friends, she reached out and patted her on the shoulder.
‘My daughter, don’t be afraid of me. It is just that I wonder why the gods have chosen one as young as you’
‘Chosen?’ fear had automatically jumped into Dali’s eyes. Only a few days before, one of the village maidens had been carted off by force to serve at the ewu priestess’ feet. Her parents had mourned her as if she was dead. Indeed, she was dead to them because the ewu acolytes who consisted solely of women were not allowed to marry. They spent their days cut off from the society, and men were forbidden from touching them. Serving the ewu as far as any young girl was concerned was a curse, a death sentence.
‘Yes, chosen. You will be the mother of the one Tiba awaits.’
‘I don’t understand’
‘All will be made clear to you in due time my daughter.’ The woman had then bowed and hailed her Oma. Oma was a title given to the king’s wives. When Dali told her friends the strange story, they had laughed and advised her to make nothing of it. They blamed it on the afternoon heat and assured Dali the woman’s brains had been fried to a crisp by the hot afternoon sun. True to their words, Dali had forgotten the incident until the day she was married to the young king of Tiba who just ascended the throne. It was customary to perform the traditional wedding rites of the king at the bank of the river Tiba and so at that moment after the rites when the people had hailed their new queen ‘Oma’, Dali suddenly remembered the strange woman. She heard the word ‘oma’ over and over again but it wasn’t the people’s voice she heard, it was the strange woman’s voice, the same voice which had haunted her sleep for several moons after the incident at the bank many years ago.


‘Oma! Mother of the awaited one!’
‘Who is this awaited one?’ Dali had whispered to herself in wonder. But as the strange woman promised all was soon made clear to Dali because not long after she gave birth to Bado. It was clear almost from the day he was born that Bado was not like other children. For one thing he refused to play with other children, and they in turn kept away from him. His father had blamed Dali for what he perceived as indulgence on her part.

Bado made his journey through the eastern side of the forest. He was not alone and yet he was. The king was wearing his du which made him invisible. His people passed him by and did not see him. Wearing the du was necessary because this journey was of utmost secrecy.
Yao did not mince words. “There is trouble Bado.’
“What is it this time?’ Bado was trying hard to keep the impatience and fear out of his voice.
‘Ijana is up to his tricks again”
“What is the devil planning this time?”
“I don’t know but whatever it is, it very bad. It is so bad in fact, that an urgent sacrifice must be performed. I keep seeing black clouds. It worries me.”
“Ijana! Ijana! I will kill that bastard one of these days!”
Yao simply smiled. “That would have conveniently solved your problem if it was possible.”
“Yes, yes I know. Ijana is immortal. Anyway, what do we do to get the fool off our backs?
“A sacrifice must be made, and not just an ordinary sacrifice. It must be an esisi and Inikado is the only one who can perform it.”
“Why Inikado?”
“No questions Bado! The rites will be performed at night and remember you must not see Inikado’s face. I will be there too.”
“This sacrifice must be very important. The great Yao come to Tiba?”
“Ijana is trying to destroy you my son, and if he succeeds, Tiba will be destroyed as well.”
“I will return to the awa now and get ready for the sacrifice.”
“Yes, but before you go, what have you done with Rusese?”
“Rusese is dumb. He is not a threat.”
“You are wrong. As long as he is alive, he is a threat to you, and to the entire kingdom. He carries in his heart your secret, a secret that should be known to no living soul, a secret that is the very life of Tiba.”

@savanto: Once is not enough was written by Jacqueline Susann and not Sydney Sheldon, and while it is one of my favorite books, I fail to see the humor in it.