₦airaland Forum

luvmijeje: Eeeyaah Op sorry o,may her soul RIP.
Op u were mourning and you still noticed tingling bosom! Once again sorry o.
The title I suggest is 'shattered.'

Amen...she will rest in peace.

For the tingling bosom, I knew she I'd it.
So while I recall, I laughed at "jeez juliet pulled her wool o...so where was the bosom when she did that?"
So I'd to include it as it will help convey my message. .

carmelion: The title is

please-send-us-a-buzzing-sound-when -next-you post-such-a-scaring-write-up

I mean i dont want to read next time.You did a good job of making sob for no reason!

jeeez,my heart nearly relocated from my chest.i dread the day this would happen to me,God forbid.

carmelion, am sorry for that.
How do I do the buzz warning?

You can always suggest a title!!!
Thanks for your time.

[quote author=Larry-Sun]This great piece should get edited. The author used 'taught' instead of 'thought'.

About suggesting a title; I'd suggest three:

Paradise Of Doom

Without Farewell

Curtain Dropped[/quote]larry-sun thanks for ur observation.
Have done that, hoping it will be my final draft.

Thanks for the mouth watering titles.
I hope to settle down for one soon.

Thanks for the commendation of this work.
May God bless u accordingly.

deenAyetu: Me trying to click @ Adults Only 18+ ebi no be link?
I can't wait to be on the front sit of that logline on ur siggy.

Where is the link?

lol, they is no link yet.
Am waiting for my oge at the tops before I start.

Do you really like Logline?
I will not disappoint you when I start that seasonal story.

deenAyetu: Did you really write this?
Seems like a poem...
I likey ur memoir style enticing drama with poem.

The expression is...(I comment my reserve)
I will give it a title when my tears get dry.

serious?
DeenAyetu and Carmelion did you guys actually had this feelings while reading it?
Hmm that is the power of literature, it conveys...

Thank you for sympathising with me.
May our good GOD put our dead to perfect rest...

So far so good.
The titles am getting are

BY LARRY-SUN:
Paradise Of Doom
Without Farewell
Curtain Dropped

BY luvmijeje
'shattered.'

Thank you everybody...hope to have many more options soon.

pressongodsay: what a write up, rest in peace mama.

thanks dear.
I hope you appreciated it.

Please why not suggest a title.

Its a wahoo

https://www.nairaland.com/1245262/enjoy-suggest-title-well-written.

Anty Cuddle me, Cuddle me.
I'm sorry, but I'd to endorse the above link for front page.

It was the 13th day of october 2009.
I sat on the ground, beside a highway.
Thoughts ravaged my little brain.
Everything was in topsy-turvy.
So perplexed and so into unanswerable questions.

"God, am I the only one on earth?
Must I carry the whole sorrow of the world on my head?"
Thought blew like whirl wind in and out of my brain.
I was tired and exhausted.

"Haven't I believed...hell and heaven are real?"

"Am I serving my own punishment here on earth?"

Many questions I directed to God.
I was completely devastated and perplexed. I needed answers, but they aren't coming.
I saw no reason living on earth.

My eyes worsened the whole drama.
I could still remember that day vividly.
My eye made me believed people actually walked with their heads on the soil and feet towards the sky.
Darkness filled everywhere.
White body coloured people ascended.
Black body coloured men descended.
All this refused to hasten.
Below my feet the black went.

In my sight horrible mountains moved.
Fast, they hastened towards me.
Surprised, they never reached me.
Though Right and left, they moved in speed to and fro.
It was scary such that I reached out for a cry. But I was so afraid to make a sound.

I became terrified.
No loud cry.
But the tears from my eye boiled my feet.
In its pool, I lied still.
So hot, it made me deaf.
I laid On the soil, like squeezed leaf.

My feet, body and soul boiled from my own tears.
"She's gone, gone for ever"
I murmured in pain.
I tried to catch up with realities,
But my emotion failed me.
Realities, that I will never on earth set my unclad eyes on her again.
But the more I tried to stop thinking about her,
The more the swift memories of her.

"Mummy, why have you left in your prime"
"What happens to my education?, will you not on earth see me become our number one wish?"
Many a time, had she called me Coded Barrister, Governor, President, C.D.E.F Ogiri.
"Oh! Ever wonderful mom, which of your wish will you now witness"

That day was a day I will never want to recount.
But I just caught myself doing it.
the thought of my education made me die slowly.
"Who will sponsor my education"
Her death was a strike to my ambition.
The least expected.
I was to write my first external exam in a matter of months.
"The jamb form you bought me, of what use is it without you"

The questions became alarming without an answer.
At a point in time, the question came from an external body, using my voice.
Yes! I was silent.
I heard all these and many more questions directed to my mom and her God.
I never felt as if I was the one really asking those question.

In a quite manner, I lied.
My eyes, refused a blink.
My head so stocked to the soil, never a shrink.
Body bathing self, so in tears pool.

What a horrible world.
Very short in prime.
So long in pain.
Envy in gain.
Too complicated and rough.

If after all the hard working stages of life,
Life could be so heartless,
Heartless is the word,
World with weapon of death,
Death so opposite to endurance,
Endurance should be the watch word of life.

Had she not always preached me to be tolerating?
Made me believed, patience pays?
Maybe for the hereafter.

That was the day she wrestled death,
And won in death,
The day, the angels of death were defeated,
A triumphant entry through death
to eternity.
She bade the earth goodbye at her prime. "What then will be of me, at seventeen, looking up to her?"

A nurse she aspired to be.
A hard working and caring nurse she was.
With love, she freelanced her profession.
An immortal made nurse she will forever be.
An encounter with her, and you would have joined those who still testify of her cheerfulness, humility and kindness.

Yesterday, people travelled down here to speak into her presence of her goodness to them.
Not all who had a pierce of her curing syringe and needle,
Will till the end the world, know of her death.
Ideal mom, humble servant and a wife to her children.
That day, I felt I will never meet such a person on earth.
I was afraid of the 'word', the earth and all in it.

I lied still.
Listened to the deafening horror sounds emanating from the horrible hasty moving mountain.
I felt, I began to learn a new language.
Boom, boom came the sound.
Tears fought back.

The truth was
life was actually moving out of me.
I tried to maintain balance.
In all those new development.,
It wasn't easy grasping a grab.
It was a sudden position at the cutting edge of life.

"Have you lost a dear one?
How did you feel?"
At that moment, everything was strange to me.
Moving cars and tall still buildings became horrible moving mountains.
Sounds and cry from sympathisers became horror languages.

After several struggle to attain answers.
I saw something.
It scared me at sight,
Sweat pored out beneath my palms.
My far gone spirit came back whirl to enable me stand up to a run.
But the strength failed a bargain.
The huge statue stood, not moving.
"Is it time for my judgment"
Oh, now I know how it feels to be dead.
"Am I in 'His' presence?"
I continued
"Is this how you look, my Lord"
"No, its me Juliet"
The statue spoke out.

Oh, she had stood In sob for who knows how long.
By this time I had began to gain consciousness.
I saw her fall to the ground in weakness.
I felt her hold, it was firm.

A rhyme of patterned sobbing and pant,
I was the bass, she was the twitter.
We sobbed to its fullness, when I started to breath heavily.
Juliet was confused what to do.
She pulled off her wool shirt, not minding the tingling breast.
In her confused state of mind she used her heavy wool shirt to blow breeze of life into my nearly steamed body.

"Juliet"
I called out.
Reviving from live coma.
The pronunciation of "Juliet" was not as important and vocal as it is writing here.
It sounded like a question, asked by one who does not want to be heard.
Quieter than a whisper.

Its a Cosmoe belief that a 'friend is one who have common knowledge of your joy and pain'.
Juliet have been a very good friend, a close friend to me and like a daughter to my mom before that day.
I found comfort in her arms as she continued to blow life into my dry bones.
Better I felt.
Then she spoke
"It is high time, you stood up to realities of life"
She paused.
I waited to hear more.
She was dead silent.
Then I raised my face and saw her weep. Her head was in her hands.
Then I held firm her shoulder.
We were confused,
who lost a mother?
Who is to console who?

"When I heard of what happened, my heart fall to a shock, I left it to the ground, I couldn't hold back the tear"
She continued while I shed silent tears.
"Then I thought of you, Emy I must be strong for you.
Mom is gone, yes buuuh"
I tried to hold back the pains of her words.
She tried to pretend she was strong, but her cry failed her loud.

I stood up as a strong man, but staggered off from the footpath of the high way.
"Stop"
Came a harsh but angry command.
I didn't know where it came from, so loud and so cracking.
I'd to stop immediately, to listen again.
"Emma stop"
This time the spirit in the voice got weaker by each word.
"Emma, you have got responsibilities."
The anger in the voice kept subsidising
"Have you thought of your younger brothers? Double tragedy for them, if God forbid anything happens to you, don't hurt yourself by remaining weak for them to lean on"

I now recognised the voice without looking back.
It was Juliet.
She stood up and walked to me, held my palm and took me on a walk home.
It was a brief silence all along.
Dust and tears were our companion.
I forced my self to speak with strength.
"If tears could build a stair way and memories were to be lane;
Mom, I will walk straight to heaven to bring you back home."
I became bold.
looked into the sky, as I spoke
"No farewell words were spoken, no time to say goodbye, you where gone before I woke"
Juliet cried silently.
"Only God knows my heart still aches in sadness, secret tears still flow"
I intended to continue speaking but juliet concluded with
"Rest in peace mom"

All that day was hidden pains and sorrow.
We walked back home in total silence,
In loneliness I was weak,
But energised in friendship.

I left all to the Almighty.

The IHDP Secretariat’s Writing Contest is open again! Young scholars are invited to take part and write an article for the third issue of the Dimensions magazine, to be published mid 2013.

The issue will focus on the human dimensions of the Sustainable Development Goals that have been widely discussed in the context of the Rio+20 summit.

The magazine is directed towards a wider audience, including non-scientists interested in the topic. Upon expiry of the submission deadline, the Secretariat will select up to three winners to be awarded cash prizes – and will publish their work in the magazine (print and online).

At the UN conference on sustainable development “Rio+20” in June last year, world leaders agreed to create a set of Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) as a means to embed sustainability into economic development. As part of the post-2015 development agenda, the SDGs are to reflect the lessons learned from the UN Millennium Development Goals (MDGs) that are set to end in 2015.

The new goals aim to address issues such as poverty eradication, energy access and renewable energies, food and water security, biodiversity, sustainable consumption, production and urbanization, as well as social exclusion and equity. An intergovernmental Open Working Group, consisting of 30 UN member country representatives will starts its work in September 2013 with support from the UN Secretary General, other UN entities and consultation with additional governments.

Theme

Articles must address a significant issue relating to the human dimensions of the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs).

Organizer

IHDP Secretariat

Prizes

1st Place – US$ 500

2nd Place – US$ 200

3rd Place – US$ 100

Deadline

15 April 2013

Guidelines

The contest is open to young scholars from all over the world (graduate students, PhD students or postdocs). Scholars from developing countries are particularly encouraged to take part.

While the subject matter may cover political, technological, economic or social aspects, contestants should seek to write an article that is understandable to a non-scientific audience, offering a narrative and avoiding the use of too many technical terms.

Winning articles will be written in engaging, non-scientific language, and will provide for an interesting and easy read. Contributions in the style of an academic paper will not be accepted.

Submissions must be exclusive to this Writing Contest and not be published by any other outlet before the release of the magazine.

Entries are not to exceed 2,500 words and must be submitted via e-mail to secretariat@ihdp.unu.edu by 15 April 2013, including “Writing Contest” in the subject line.

Contestants are asked to provide a short paragraph about themselves stating their date of birth and field of research. All submissions will be reviewed carefully.

Winners will be announced on the IHDP Web site and social media channels and informed via email toward the end of April.

Inquiries

If you have any question, ask from secretariat@ihdp.unu.edu.

Announcer








http://naijawriterscoach.com/ihdp-writing-contest/

[quote author=Larry-Sun]Will contact you.[/quote]my pleasure sire.

[quote author=Larry-Sun]Will contact you.[/quote]my pleasure sire

.To get your internation standard book number (isbn) is very easy and cheap.

All you need to do is walk into any public library coded to international system, present the manual script of any of your write up with a token depending on where you went to and behold you will be given a number called isbn.

I advise you do it your self as a printer will just forge anything for you.

You can not sue for pledgerism without this.

I can get this coded number delivered to your email in five days, my school library is not coded with the international system, hence i travel to a close town- federal polytecnic idah to get it for you.

Have witnessed this done last week and i was surprised it wasn't so hard as i taught.

Emyobright@gmail.com
get your book, story, idea and interactive collabo protected with just my fee of #5000