₦airaland Forum

donkross1:
See writers oo . Y'all should turn these pieces into stories joor.

I did ooo

When Biola friendzoned John, she thought she could escape love. But when she entered marriage, they both discovered they can't live without each other. They are both restricted by religion, culture, marriage and gossips. Now, they must avoid adultery as their spouses are jealous, rebelling and making them come closer.

Meanwhile, Kemi is tired of John's love for Biola and is now drawn to Biola's husband.
She's restricted by her love for John and want to avoid adultery at all cost.
Watch out for ' Another Fenced Heart'
9 days to go on
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Pls Rbc

Flakkydagirl:
My First Car! Fascinating..... I'm glued..... Thanks for the invite......

Twale

His Neighbour's Window.
Akintayo Akinjide
Tunde stood at his window that day like he did everyday and watched Shade's window.
Every morning, it was blurry because of the mosquito net, and whenever the afternoon sun decide to show off its glory, he would only see the ray bouncing off the net again and even in the evening it was always so, but at night he had deviced a means to watch her.
Whenever, he was at home, his light was sure to be on and with that he noticed her curtain would be down. But whenever, he refused to put on the light- candle, lamp, or the bulb- her curtain was always rolled up.
Plump and beautiful, her stature always attracted his eyes to hover around her body. He always stared at her, and that went on for long and became a habit.
So, it wasn't surprising when he entered his room that friday night and went straight to the window to watch her UnCloth
' Ah! God', he moaned as she swirl her hair.
As if the whole house fell on him, a slap landed on his cheek. He screamed.
' Idiot! You are staring at a woman's unclothedness', his girlfriend, who planned to give him a surprise visit, shouted.
' When? Where?' He said and looked at the door. He had left it ajar.
He looked back at the window, the lady had covered it and she never opened it ever since.


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Every man's Hatred.
Akintayo Akinjide

I woke to the complaint of a loud old generator, to a devilish long tongued heat, to the funny harmony of mosquitoes, to the killing pang of hunger and I knew I was done for.
Why did I wake again? Why did I not just pass from sleep to death and from death to the grave and from grave to God, to whom my complaint would go blaring siren and using the loudest honks to deliver the message of my woe, my pain, and my anger at what this world was.
At least, it would take me far away from my wife's incessant complaints and nagging, from the sharp, tiny, painful cry of my darling little three day old baby and would make me face heaven.
But I'm sure none of them woke me, I'm sure it was the noise of angry Mathew, my neighbour and his heavy knock on my door. I should have expected the knock, but I had thought otherwise.
' Yes... Who's there?'
' It's the police', a rough, cold voice shouted from outside.
Oh blood of zechariah! This idiot had gone to call police over the small issue that ensued that afternoon.
I felt my wife stir, lift her head, and probably stare at me but the choky darkness was sure to take away her worried look. And my little girl winced in her sleep, snoozing and waking up in bits.
I went out of the room and faced the doom at my door. 'Yes, what do you want?'
I knew but with Nigeria police, one must always be alert.
' You are under arrest for breaking three teeth of your neighbour'.
' Where's your warrant?'
' Wetin you dey talk?'
' I said where's your warrant?'
' You dey crase', someone shouted from the shadow. Ray of light from the other house poked into the house and I saw it was another uniformed man.
My baby cried from within the house and I thought of running and the consequences, following them and the consequences, so I chose following them and I'm sure those idiots that refused to borrow me money to start business would now be interested in bailing me.
I looked at my lanky, dry-bone-like-buhari neighbour and moved in front of the police as if they were my guards.
' Simple sorry you no fit take', I said as I wheeled towards him and back to the front.
' You wan beat am again'.
' Oga you noba hear my story you don do kerekere wan carry me go tation. Na like dat real officer suppose dey do'.
' You don get loosed button for your brain. Who no be real officer? Na me?'
I wanted to see their face but I knew that the only thing sure about Nigerian Light was that it will never come and when it does, it's for show,to make people have hope that vision 2020 would bring hope, for the sake of preparing a way for those that would be involved in disconnecting the light from it's source, the pole if one had not pay his PHCN due.
My problem also started with PHCN, I was seated outside, waiting for my wife to cool down her rants, and my baby, her cry, hoping that the breeze from outside would seethe my pain, and the light from the sun would dry my unshed tears, hoping PHCN would restore our light when Matthew, the Lanky neighbour joined me.
We started from complaining about Nigeria and discussed generally even as the day began to go dim like a theartrical art. Then, our arguements went to family planning, which I supported vehemently. But the dry bone refused. He believed we should get as many children God wanted to give but I told him to forget it while I played with a padlock I brought out. And I even told him that if God want to give me baby let him send money to take care of them first.
As though I was hit by lightening, I saw Matthew hand connect to my face, boring pain into the pores of my skin, into my veins and in my brain. I yelled. He opened his hand and opened it.
' Mosquito', he groaned and smiled as though he was a hunter who had just had a great kill.
I pounced on him, forgetting that I held the padlock, forgetting that I was as fat as an elephant, hoping to finish him before he could escape. By the time people dragged me off him, I had removed the three front upper teeth.
' Idiot' I said as the police man pushed me away. Now, I'm suffering because a man hated mosquito and I hated unbalanced judgement.

Sunrise Meal
Akintayo Akinjide

Tolu, my friend, was from a wealthy home. Now that we're on strike, I think she's the only I would visit especially now that she just posted a pix on Facebook. The food was tantalising-Indomie garnished with great spices and she posted 'Morning food'.
Hurriedly, I sent her Bbm 'Bae, I'm coming to your place....'
She replied that she would be expecting me.
I did my work and rushed to her place, imagining the indomie and everything that I would eat since UI had restricted me to Agbowo and lot of Garri. I met her outside, bent and looking morose.
Whatever was wrong with her, she would be fine.
'Why you kon bendown for there? Abeg wey dat indomie?'
I said and ran into the house with joy.
The moment, I got to her pot I discovered two things- the pot was washed and Tolu was vomitting.
' Tolu....'I screamed in anger and fear. ' What's wrong with you?'
I said as I got out as against where's the remaining indomie I wanted to say.
But I had to stop as I saw her vomitting pelted Eba.
' What...What.. What is this?'
Tolu had always boasted of never taking swallow.
' I don't know?'
' But this is Eba'
' I don't take swallow'
'What's this?'
' I don't take swallow... I ate indomie this morning..Didn't you see the pics on Fb'.
' I did but this is Eba'.
'I don't take...'
At that instant, an old neighbour of Tolu passed.
' Aunty Tolu, the Eba you poured in the gutter has blocked it o..Oya go and wash it with water'.
Tolu stared at me. I stared at her, and at Mama Agba with my mouth opened. I wheeled around and returned to her room, frustrated as the hungry worms in my stomach kept rumbling for Indomie.

His Neighbour's Window.
Akintayo Akinjide
Tunde stood at his window that day like he did everyday and watched Shade's window.
Every morning, it was blurry because of the mosquito net, and whenever the afternoon sun decide to show off its glory, he would only see the ray bouncing off the net again and even in the evening it was always so, but at night he had deviced a means to watch her.
Whenever, he was at home, his light was sure to be on and with that he noticed her curtain would be down. But whenever, he refused to put on the light- candle, lamp, or the bulb- her curtain was always rolled up.
Plump and beautiful, her stature always attracted his eyes to hover around her body. He always stared at her, and that went on for long and became a habit.
So, it wasn't surprising when he entered his room that friday night and went straight to the window to watch her UnCloth
' Ah! God', he moaned as she swirl her hair.
As if the whole house fell on him, a slap landed on his cheek. He screamed.
' Idiot! You are staring at a woman's unclothedness', his girlfriend, who planned to give him a surprise visit, shouted.
' When? Where?' He said and looked at the door. He had left it ajar.
He looked back at the window, the lady had covered it and she never opened it ever since.

The sweetest Maggi
Akintayo Akinjide

Ibidun was just like every woman, she wanted to be the first to use the best or something new. So, it wasn't a wonder when she scurried about to look for something to break that hard-as-stone maggi that refused to break.
But the idiot wouldn't bulge and she couldn't use stone to break it, so she was compelled to throw it into the boiling red soup like that with no fear. It would melt by itself.

When her daughter, and luckily for her, her friend arrived, she was beaming and ready to show them the soup, the grand soup she had just made and the wonderful taste it would have. She, like her friend, was a good cook who cooked and didn't need to taste it for salt or other things because with instinct of a master, they knew their soup was good.
' Whoa', she said rejoicing, 'I just got a maggi that you've never tasted in your life. You people will be the first to taste from the master's soup'.
So, when she dished it for them and they frowned, she recoiled.
' What's wrong with it?'
' Ibidun, did you use sugar to cook?'
' Sugar? May God not let us see fire in a well. When Maggi have not finish in the world'.
' That's imposible', she said and tasted it for the first time and dropped the spoon as though it had become fire,' my head oooo'.
' Where's the maggi you use. I mean where are the wrappers?'
' No need for wrappers, I still have more'.
She hurried inside and rushed back, staring at it.
' It's milo Maggi'.
' Ah mummy that's not maggi. That's choco milo. It's a sweet', her daughter said and gave her friend a side-glance and they buckled in laughter, while she stood staring at them, calculating how much she spent on the soup.

* Dedicated to everyone having a ceremony today. From Nigerianwriters'hub we say your money will not be a waste. This shall be a step into greatness forever.

The sweetest Maggi
Akintayo Akinjide

Ibidun was just like every woman, she wanted to be the first to use the best or something new. So, it wasn't a wonder when she scurried about to look for something to break that hard-as-stone maggi that refused to break.
But the idiot wouldn't bulge and she couldn't use stone to break it, so she was compelled to throw it into the boiling red soup like that with no fear. It would melt by itself.

When her daughter, and luckily for her, her friend arrived, she was beaming and ready to show them the soup, the grand soup she had just made and the wonderful taste it would have. She, like her friend, was a good cook who cooked and didn't need to taste it for salt or other things because with instinct of a master, they knew their soup was good.
' Whoa', she said rejoicing, 'I just got a maggi that you've never tasted in your life. You people will be the first to taste from the master's soup'.
So, when she dished it for them and they frowned, she recoiled.
' What's wrong with it?'
' Ibidun, did you use sugar to cook?'
' Sugar? May God not let us see fire in a well. When Maggi have not finish in the world'.
' That's imposible', she said and tasted it for the first time and dropped the spoon as though it had become fire,' my head oooo'.
' Where's the maggi you use. I mean where are the wrappers?'
' No need for wrappers, I still have more'.
She hurried inside and rushed back, staring at it.
' It's milo Maggi'.
' Ah mummy that's not maggi. That's choco milo. It's a sweet', her daughter said and gave her friend a side-glance and they buckled in laughter, while she stood staring at them, calculating how much she spent on the soup.

* Dedicated to everyone having a ceremony today. From Nigerianwriters'hub we say your money will not be a waste. This shall be a step into greatness forever.

There was no noise anywhere for the first time in a long time as I moved to urinate in the toilet. The silence was extremely unbearable.

Did I sleep till the next day? I rushed to the parlour and went outside. The sky was dark and there was light in the different houses of our street. There was an unusual silence.

Oh I lie! There was the regular noise of Tunde and Segun, my playful four-year-old friends (they were actually twins); there was the noise of our neighbour Mr. George and Aunty Grace another neighbour whose moan and cry of ‘oh more!’ never ceased to filter to my ear, my mum had told me to always leave that side of the house whenever I heard that noise that it would corrupt my heart, and I believed her.

But I still searched for that humming, buzzing, head-pounding noise which was not there again. I hurriedly ran inside, to the kitchen and tugged my mum’s wrapper, not minding that she was still shouting instructions to my elder siblings- Segun and Tofunmi- to put water in the fridge and to dust the pepper-blender we had never cause to use in a long time.

‘Mummy, everybody have buy big generator.
They have off their generator and we also have light’, I said half delighted, half surprised that we who couldn’t afford generator, whose father still returned home with his dusty, tattered shoes, distraughted after searching for jobs, whose mother was the bread winner would be
able to get a generator.

She smiled brightly at me and shook my head playfully, ‘no honey. PHCN has restored our
light’.

I nodded and the light went off and returned again then I learnt a new sentence, ‘ Up NEPA’. Then, the light went off again. And the generators resumed their duties.

Seeing the need to take count, I began to watch out for the day people would cry the sentence again, but it came only twice in March- once on a Sunday and the second time on Friday for five minutes.

It came again last month, but nobody put off their generator for two hours. But the light remained, till 5 a.m and went off. This is May.
We are still expecting the shout of ‘Up Nepa’.

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I've finally finished the story into Novella... So watch out for ' Another Walled Heart'.
in 9 days

Excerpts

Walled Heart (AWH)
Akintayo Akinjide
Chapter 1
She basked in the darkness of the garden and
heard the old rusty door creak. That was
surprising. The garden had been forsaken for years
and ever since she started coming there- a year
ago- nobody had ever stepped their feet on the
place, even during the day.

She felt the place was been desecrated. It
belonged to her and her alone. It was her place of
zen, rest, of putting things together, of making
herself sane.

The garden laid opposite her house, but it had
been naturally covered with a lot of wild bushes.
Since the owner died some years before, no one
had ever stepped forward to claim it. She took it
upon herself to make it cleaner and fit for thinking,
for solving and reconstructing her knotted, puzzled
life. Did she need to shout this intruder out? The
darkness made it impossible for her to see who
had just come in but she, like a lioness, had to
show her ownership of the territory.

' Who's that?'
The person turned, and scurried for the gate.
' It's okay', she shouted. ' I'm human'.
Watchout for ' Another Fenced Heart' (AWH) by
Akinjide Akinjide
10 days to daily post release on www.nigerianwri
tershub.com
25 days to Ebook Release.




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Chigold121
twaci

Actually, this story was not intended to continue but let's just see if I can do something to it...

ivyy:
Thank you so much for that detailed contribution

You're most welcomed.

Nice one. The flow is really cool.
Atleast, from beginning we know it was a romance.
My Review.
The story, though edging on, is still discussing women's feeling when men want to meet them. And from when Ronke's view, we noticed that beautiful Ivy was able to tell us that men should be bold, and that a woman would always give cues to men they love. Look at Lawrence, for example, Ronke gave him cue that was enough for him to get her number without asking despite the face his confidence was wanining.
Meanwhile, I think Ivy should take the story slowly. ' The dearie thing and the bae are too fast except if the guy will be a womanizer and is aiming for her underskirt.
Also, I think you should still spice that beginning. While, it's okay, I think a little foreshadow would make us read on, and we won't be perturb by Ronke's internal rant about Nigerians.
Maybe, you can move her shout about Lanre upward. Then go on to rant. I understand that you are trying to keep the reason for her thought but that would still be cool.
And I don't know if you have noticed, you're drifting between 3rd person Omniscience and 3rd person limited. And the 3rd person Omniscience was more pronounced in Ibrahim's case. But I want to assume you want the POV to be only Ronke's so why not try to limit what reader's know to Only Ronke's Pov.


I recommend this story to men out there especially the singles, learn from a lady how lady's react to your wooing.

I see you're trying to quote your dialogues but it's not reflecting. It's more like you copied your work from another place to post it here.
All you have to do press enter twice.
Your story is making sense but I think they are some points you don't expressly show some events and it's making the story have loopholes.

Meanwhile, the storyline is making sense. And it talks more about the fear women have when they see a man moving towards them. They want to sieve out his intensions and see what he has in mind.
I recommend this to every guy out there that feels a lady is snubbing or acting strangely to them.

By Akintayo Akinjide

In Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins,
I'm particularly drawn to the theme of 'Radicalism' or ' Breaking rules' portrayed by Suzzane Collins.Her style of infusing radicalism and showing the result was intriguing.
She showed us two ways radicalism were done and their results.

The first type was done by all the 13 districts but had only district 13 becoming a scapegoat. District 13 and the rest went in full fledge against the Capitol and it was destroyed.

The second type was that radicalism had to be done by using one's social intelligence and most of her characters portrayed this.

Katniss and Gale were known by Peacekeepers and the Mayor to be rule breakers but they brought things they needed thereby giving them the chance to remain alive.
Suzanne described that breaking rules should be done for love and even the authorities would be compelled to go in one's favour. Katniss, for example, broke a major rule of volunteering when Prim was chosen. No one had ever volunteered in district 12 and it made the Mayor wave the issue of Protocol raised by Effie.

Another form of radicalism with social intelligence is breaking rules while playing on other's love for pleasure etc. Cinna was able to rebel by making tributes from District 12 hold hands during their glamorous parade. To ensure that the tributes were ready to kill themselves, all tributes were always tutored not to hold hands but Cinna made them do just that. Haymitch called that ' the perfect touch of rebellion'( pg 46)

Also, Radicalism alongside social intelligence is birth by an urge to impress and when done well, attracts gifts. Katniss felt 'upstaged by a pig'( page 59) and shot the Apple in the mouth of the pig to gain the game makers' attention. Her radicalism was birth by her anger 'at being ignored'( page 60-61).

I shouldn't forget Thresh and the people of Agriculture, district 11, as they broke rule to say ' thank you' to Katniss. Their radicalism was birth out of appreciation and was forgiven.

And when the chance to rebel against the system came, she was standing in front of Peeta, who didn't want to be another pawn, who didn't want to consciously kill anybody, who was so much in love and would prefer death to watching Katniss die. They were able to change the rules and play on the Gamekeepers' psychology by feigning being in love. Radicalism is done by knowing the rules and playing on people's psychology.

On a final note, I must commend Suzanne Collins' writing style which was intriguing and say this book is a book that anyone who love to effect a change must learn from. Are you going to Change the world like District 13 or like Katniss Everdeen and her team.



Summary of the story

This story was written from the first person'sa point of view, Katniss Everdeen's, who volunteered to be a tribute after her twelve year old sister ,Prim was chosen to be a tribute in the Hunger games, which was set as a reminder that rebellion against the Capitol was death. The game is meant to see the death of 23 tributes out of 24.
Katniss was chosen alongside Peeta Mellark, who had a crush on her, whom she believed she owed for taking the risk to give her breads when she was dying of hunger at their backyard.

At the game, they were tutored by the always-drunk Haymitch Abernathy, a one-time winner of the game. And she was dressed by first-timer stylist Cinna whom she loved and believed masked his madness with a calm and normal demeanor.

Although she went to the arena with doubt that Peeta was only being kind to make her drop her guard, she later teamed up with him when a new announcement was made and they both killed Cato, a career tribute and both defied the Game makers' rule by trying to eat poisonous Berries when a new rule came in that only one tribute would win.

http://nigerianwritershub.com/2016/04/29/the-right-way-to-break-rules-a-review-of-suzzane-collins-hunger-game/