₦airaland Forum

Its the devil in me
He picks up the knife
Always looking for strife
Finding ways to end a life
Its the devil in me
He picks up the gun
After the sleeping sun
And takes a father from his son
Its the devil in me
She picks up the bar
When none is looking at her
Then rips the break out the car
All these wasn't me
For I'm not so blind not to see
That it's a sin to kill
It was the devil in me.



Playing with my pen.

“Swoosh” I heard the sound of the whip, before it even landed on my back. ‘Twelve’ I muttered beneath my breathe, I didn’t know how many more lashes I could take before my body will give way to the pain, but I was determined not to show my agony, as that would only humiliate me in front of the whole school, therefore all I could do was flinch.
Here I was being punished for an offence I didn’t commit, but which I chose to be caned for. They say love makes one to misbehave, but in my case, I would blame puberty for this hormonal imbalance.
The girl I crushed on had been called out on the assembly ground, to call out the boy she had been caught kissing in the dining hall area of the school premises. Snitching in my school then, was an unpardonable offence amongst we students.
Hence, she was panicky and remained silent, despite the evident threat of receiving fifty lashes of horsewhip, or worse still an indefinite suspension. Having been hit by Cupid’s arrow, I owned up to an offence, which I knew nothing off, hoping to help her out of her dilemma, subdue her punishment, and to ultimately win her love.
After receiving twenty five lashes of horsewhip, with one week of compulsory labor, my back stung like hell, but this was no pain compared to that which fate was saving for me.
Two days after the whole saga, while clearing a patch of grass, apportioned to me as a part of my compulsory labor, I heard a familiar voice call my name, and I turned to see my crush walk up to me with a smile on her pretty face.

At that moment, I felt proud of my decision, and I thanked the heavens for my luck.
‘Thanks for the other day, I sincerely appreciate your kind gesture and I hope your back doesn’t hurt anymore?’ she said to me, still wearing her beautiful smile.
‘Oh! It was nothing, I would do more if given the chance ‘ I boasted.
I hadn’t noticed the black polythene bag, she had been clutching, until she held it up to me. As I collected the bag from her, I heard the words, which will forever remain in my heart. Even if I had a memory loss.
‘My boyfriend told me to give this to you, see you later’. She said as she bounced off, not waiting to hear my response, that is if I could even manage to find my tongue at that moment.
I didn’t cry while I received the beatings, but I I remember weeping like an infant, with hot tears rolling down my face. Words wouldn’t describe how I felt that day. And this for me was my first encounter with a broken heart.