Dear Readers, I will be updating either once or twice a day depending on the strength of my mind and battery power. Currently working on my Final Year Project and it is consuming my time but I love writing. Lol, writing stories is different from writing codes in Java and PHP. At least here, there are no rules but right there, the rules are cray cray.

Please y'all shouldn't get angry when there is no update for a while, it is the situation of things.

I am JoeyWrites and I write to be read!


#JoeyWrites

(Episode 2)

I stretched and turned on my bed that morning. My mind was a little blank. I did not know where I was at first before slowly it dawned on me that I was in my room. My very room had looked strange to me, maybe because of the excitement that was bubbling inside of me. I refused moving from the bed until I heard my mother's voice. As usual she was raising a high praise and it could have been what had woken me up, in fact it always did. She was like the alarm clock in the house. Once it is 5:00am, her voice in a its strength starts singing. From Yoruba songs to Igbo down to Hausa and Ijaw songs.

"Satan comot for road o! I carry Holy Ghost fire, I no get brake o! I go jam you for head!"

I yawned lazily. If I didn't go and join in the prayer or come in some minutes late, I would be the topic of the morning devotion. No one, neither me nor my sister likes it when we are topics. This is because all our sins are called into remembrance. It is as if the ones you have been forgiven, the ones you did the previous day and the one you are planning to do would be lined up. Mama preaches so much about how God forgives and forgets and had always told us to ask for forgiveness whenever we wrong someone. This we had practice from infancy. Mother, she would say she has forgiven you but if you come late to morning devotion, you would realize she hadn't forgotten.

"Blessed be the name of the Lord, he is worthy to be praised and adored! So we lift up holy hands in one accord, singing, blessed be the name, o, blessed be name, oo, blessed be the name of the Lord!"

A time of worship in the dimly lit room. Even though there was constant power supply, mother always insisted that the room be left semi or totally dark. Says it makes her feel comfortable communing with her father in heaven early in the morning.

"Father, we pray that you direct the footsteps of your son. Do not let him fall by the wayside like the grains of corn in the parable of Jesus that got eaten by birds. Oh God! Let him fall on fertile soil and may his results multiply successfully in the name of Jesus!"

The whole family screamed a thunderous "amen!". My eyes cleared. No wonder I had been excited earlier to the point of forgetting my immediate surroundings. I was going to school today.

"Dear Lord, he is your son and after crying for five years, you dropped him in my womb. Like Hannah, I gave him back to you. God! See him through in the name of Jesus! Evil shall not befall him, trials and persecutions would he overcome in the name of Jesus! And dear God, if any girl decides that my son is whom she wants to lead astray, let her die by fire in the name of Jesus!"

I heard the reverberating amen but my mouth was shut to the last point in the prayer. I have always wanted freedom and schooling faraway from home presented my much sought-after freedom. I had always been close to God from the beginning. Maybe because according to my mother, she had cried to God and he had met her at the point of her needs. Initially, while still in primary school, it was fun hearing my mum referring to me in the presence of my teachers and classmates as "pastor" but when I got into senior classes in my secondary school days, I always cringed when she called me that. Deola was what was on my mind night and day.

"May the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God and the sweet fellowship of the Holy Spirit rest and abide with us now and forever. Amen."

The prayer came to a close. I opened my eyes and lo and behold, it was a full house. The first light of dawn was already seeping in through the curtains. Father was already dressed for work. Usual of him. Mother always made sure of this. Sometimes I wonder how she does it. She's probably the last to sleep but the first to wake up. For the first seventeen years I had spent on earth, the routine never changed.

"Ochuko..."

Father's voice cut through my thoughts. I looked at him. He was beginning to grey on both sides of his temple but his eyes still carries fire. I couldn't bring myself to stare for long into the eyes of my father. It was always intimidating making me cower in submission.

"Yes daddy..." I replied standing up slightly from the chair I was seating on. A quick move of his hands made me remain on the seat.

"I have given everything to your mother. She is going to give them to you. Now listen to me. You are no longer a child. Anything that would make you leave this house to go stay on your own whether in school or anywhere indicates one thing. You are grown. You have always made me proud and I know you wouldn't stop now. Be a good ambassador to this family because if outsiders wants to judge the way and manner I raised my children, they wouldn't ask me. They will simply look at your life. Left for me, I would have said you should turn eighteen first before going to school but the world has changed. The quicker you go to school, the quicker you graduate and the quicker you get established. Hardwork pays and perseverance plus honesty propels one into greater heights."

Father paused a little before continuing, "Ochuko, you have a family that is not bereft of love. And the best has been given to you. I am not saying you will not encounter life but when you do, remember the son of whom you are and the family from which you come from. Do not let the simple things of life distract you from achieving your life long goals. Remember, it is the way that seemeth right but the end thereof is destruction. Keep your head down and learn. If you need any help, whether financially or morally, don't hesitate to dial my number or your mum's. We will always be there for you."

I looked up when he stopped talking. This was the lengthiest speech I had ever received from my dad.

"Okay father."

I muttered. He wasn't done yet.

"I am not saying you should not make friends but please, do not allow your friends chose you. You should do the choosing. And if any of them doesn't conform with your vision, do not waste time in cutting them off."

"Yes Sir." I replied.

"Now come closer." Father beckoned at me. I did and he placed his hand on my head. For the first time, I actually felt connected to my father. Even though we talk sometimes and my mother always made me tell him about my big problems, I felt he wasn't there enough or he doesn't love me enough. His action that morning wiped off every trace of doubt. Father truly loves me.

"Success is yours my son and no evil eyes shall see you. You shall go to that school and return more than a conqueror."

It ended abruptly. Father turned and left the room. I just stood there watching his retreating shadow. I had caught a wisp of emotion in his voice.

"Ochuko mma, go in and take your bath."

I felt mother's hand on my shoulders. I nodded slowly and moved towards the inner room.

"For your mind you dey feel yourself shebi."

Oh God, I had totally forgotten that Osas existed. She was smiling sheepishly.

"Dey there dey talk, your time go come. Na one week dry fasting them go declare for your head. You know say you be woman na..."

I left the talk there. She understood and showed me her five fingers. I smiled. Mother had walked to the kitchen when the exchange of words started. I knew my stomach would be pleading for mercy in no time because mother would want to feed her son one last time before he leaves the comfort of her home and the sweetness of her food behind.

To be continued....

"We walk not because we want to but because each step takes us closer to achieving our destinies."

#JoeyWrites

The air as usual looked and smelt beautiful to me. The amount of flies buzzing over my head gave me joy. I could point them out and call them by their names since I've known them for a while. Abu was the one with gold lining his wings, Ada always buzzed louder than the rest. Segun had a thing for the mucus that gathered abundantly by the side of my eyes. He was always there feeding on it hungrily.

As I raised myself and stared at the garbage in front of me, the flies scattered a bit then returned.

"Please warn us next time. You scare us when you move suddenly." Segun said to me with his mouth full. I shook my head making him unsteady some more. If I hadn't grown attached to him, I would have swiped him dead with a flick of my fingers.

"He is a glutton, pay no heed to him. I wonder what he enjoys. Always seated perched to your eyes eating and eating all day yet he never gets fat."

Ada buzzed.

"I know. But he helps me keep other flies away." I muttered gently. It isn't one of those days that I would yap and yap. My mind was somewhere else. I had seen workers dressed in uniform and holding huge chains come to pick Alake. It still looked surreal to me. No matter how hard he tried to fight the chains thrown on him, it tied him down. With a loud bawl he had suddenly become silent and had been led away meekly. All these happened in the dead of the night. I hadn't slept in my usual spot because of what I had picked earlier from the garbage and eaten. My stomach had a terrible upset that I had to close both legs to prevent faeces from finding their way down my legs. A mad man is a repulsive sight, add faeces to him and people might want to shoot him dead.

With the way those men looked around cautiously, even going as far as my spot, I knew they would return. Yes, they usually do. First they had tried to lure me with banana but it didn't work. Then they had come with coke and bread but it wasn't yummy enough. I still preferred the taste of decaying food and its slimy feeling as it glides down my throat.

"What of Alake?" Abu asked. He had wandered off and had returned some moments later.

"He was taken last night."

I replied gloomily.

"Ohhhhhh!" The three flies buzzed in unison. "No wonder you look all grumpy this morning. One would have thought that you found love by night and by day, heartbreak."

Ada added.

"Well, love is a mirage. It is only real when you have something going. The moment you are not there, forgetfulness sets in and your name gets relegated to the cesspit of unwanted memories."

"Wow, you are poetic."

Segun said from the safety of my eyes. I could see him rubbing his hands together as if in satisfaction before going back to devouring the food that poured out abundantly from my eyes.

"Poetry comes as a result of unreciprocated love." A smile was starting to crease my face but I stopped it halfway. I still hadn't forgotten the name of who had made that quote, Danteomo. The Memory Lane I was drifting into was magical at first but the ending was terrible.

"I don't fall in love. In fact, I don't think we flies have hearts. What we have is just a thin film that allows little blood from our head to pump around our bodies. The next time I visit that school over there, I will eavesdrop on the lessons, maybe by then I will tell you what that organ is."

Abu said as flew and landed on my dreads.

"You need to wash your hair. Fleas and ticks seem to be rioting up here."

"Let them be. My body is large enough to accommodate y'all." I replied him.

"I am very much interested in your story."

Ada buzzed. Her wings shown in the sunlight.

"You want people to keep up that notion that individuals like us talk to ourselves right? People will say I am mad."
"Ain't ya? If you weren't, you wouldn't be here."

Segun buzzed.

"I am not. The circumstances of the world drove me here. I know you all are in my mind but to humour myself, I will tell you my story."
I said to them as I walked to my spot to sit down. I leaned back and closed my eyes. The memories in digital colour came flooding back. I opened my eyes to shut it out before starting to talk.

"My name is Ochuko and this is my story...."

To be continued...

#JoeyWrites

Ishilove:

Lol. Yeye

How far, ping me na. For whatsApp oh. I get one small problem like that. You fit help me.

Ishibabe....

flow1759:


FoxyFlow keekwanu

Baba odimma. I see you still have this crush on Ishilove. Choi! Man wey dey Reason, Ishilove Don marry o!

No be my mouth you first hear am sha...

I dey here too.....

Countrygirl:
If you see how I happily came here to read two episodes ehh, I was disappointed sha

Biko no vex with me.... Project things. Last night was frustrating. Pardon me dear Countrygirl...

yorhmienerd:
What of The Devil Who Loved Me?

After this, we will look at that. And every uncompleted story on my several monikers....

Good morning famz, please I want to apologize for last night. Update is ready. I slept off sha. Rule says only night updates I will be making it two updates tonight....

I apologize once more...

Story continues tonight.... Haaa.... Afraid is already catching me.
Buckle up people.... This ride should take us for the coming weeks....
And yeah, the name is JoeyWrites


#JoeyWrites

Countrygirl:
please do, it's captivating

Expect it every night starting from Monday...

I feel like continuing this story wallahi....

ExInferis:


Damn right you're.

Shegu arnaye kawai.

And you just confirmed the first episode of my story....

ExInferis:


You fukkers bash the north at every opportunity yet you just cant stop flocking here like some migratory birds coming to spread bird flu like from your diseased and heretic society.

We accommodate you mindless fukkers and all we get from you ungrateful crooks is insult.

Well pack up and leave. Stop coming.

The allure of the north is the peace one can never find in the south, where one cannot even go to the ATM without a gun and a prayer.

You come along to pollute our conservative societies with the decadence of yours, the rot and decay that permeates every atom of your existence from your genes down to your norms.

You come with hos, criminals, kidnappers, scammers, robbers, snatchers, petty thieves and occultism. We allow yiu nonetheless to prosper and acquire wealth. But being inherent ingrates you demean us, our way of life, and our religion.

And you expect to keep your necks intact.

Fukk you all, you gays.

Die slow, every one of you.

Okay now kid, I wrote my story, can you write yours now to counter it? Year 2000, 2001, 2004, 2011 and January 20th, 2012 should be your focus. Right there you can tell me about the peace and the progress everyone enjoyed.

One more thing.... I a Northerner too. So put that in mind....

ExInferis:
An alarmist, bigoted piece of CAN-sponsored propaganda.

This author is among the new generation rabid anti-islam infidels being led by FFK as they seek to stoke the embers of hate.

I don't understand the christian hate for almajiris and the perpetual lies that christians in the north live a perilous life, when the fact is millions of them are trooping into the relative peace and bounty of the north away from the violence and immorality of the south.

And these unwashed masses lead successful lives in their commerce or work, yet in their boundless malfeasance they write ill of the north.

If it's so bad, why not leave?

We gave you a quit notice to bo back to your tribal enclaves, but you rushed to the UN begging to stay.

Stupid people.

I don't know FFK neither do I read any of his posts that he is attached to here on Nairaland. I did not post about the good part of the north because that's not what my story is based on. It was my experience as a child and as a twelve years old boy. Do the Maths. And bro, you reek of hatred. Never once did I condemn anybody directly.

Shalom...

mariong:
I relate to your story as i have had my own fair share of the traumatic experience.
My childhood friend (your namesake) Attai and his family left Kano after the 2001 riot. Last time we met was at Bompai barracks where we all sought refuge.

If you are talking about the same Attai that stayed in Tukuntawa, he is my cousin. They left Kano around that period, like 02/03 or so. He also attended Top Quality then. Is he the one you are referring to?

farouk0403:


Yes, i know crisis had happened in kano for the past decade, even thou i was not in kano as of then but my relatives were there.

The way you narrated that "one hajiya did not allowed you and your mom to seek refuge in her house", i think that's a bit of exaggeration.

Anyways i am not trying to condemn your story but don't you think it will bring more crisis, we are already in a middle of controversies now.

You are funny. The house is located on 2nd Street, directly opposite the field. Abbas was my classmate before he repeated. Shehu later became my classmate.

Bro, nobody paid me to write this. I was reminiscing with my elder bro when I visited Minna. It was there it dropped in my heart to start this. Take it whatever way you wanna.

farouk0403:

I like your story but it is more of a fantasy than true life story.

Stop exaggerating please.

If you see my exaggerated stories, you will know this one ain't. Everything I wrote up there happened and a lot of people who have stayed in Kano or still stay there can collaborate the story. It is because of your likes I used real names and real locations. You can confirm it anytime.

I will make this quote:

"You won't really know what war is unless you witness one or it takes someone close to you."

Shalom...

When the world ended, some humans still remained in it. They did not go with the blast of the trumpet neither did the great tribulation take them away. Tried as much as the daemons could, they couldn't break these ones. Their powers was different from that of the angels and daemons combined. They were known as the the Leshmelcans, the guardians of the sanctity of earth. They were only a handful but their powers made them to be omnipresent anywhere they were needed and they acted with the righteousness of a judge who knew not bribery nor corruption. They meted out justice in doses and protected the remaining of mankind. Mankind, the ones that remained stayed back to convert earth to the paradise it once was and would become according to the Book of Revelation. The New earth and the New Jerusalem would host the final feast before humans would decide if they want to stay in heaven or continue human civilization on earth where there would no more be evil.

The leader of the Leshmelcans known as Suez was locked up in the middle of the four seas. Where the seas met and mixed has a powerful daemon controlled by a monk that was mortally wounded in the final battle. The only element that sustained him was the essence that flowed from Suez's body. It was determined to keep him there until he was healed of all his wounds. This made the other Leshmelcans a little kinky. They did their job alright but they still went ahead to mingle with the daughters of men. Once, whenever any of them was in a tight position, he summoned Suez. This he would do by saying the following words in a slow-fast-faster-slower-fast-slow pace:

"Abinda Malorie Castaneda Audra Montgomery Alabama. Eyes that seest the unseen in the darkest part of eternity, hole that covereth the dragon in a bottomless fall. I speak words into the ever tingling flow of the cells pumped from my heart that cascades through paths carved out by Arie and the untamed wilderness. Hear the melody in my voice oh great one whose sacrificial body remains drowned for years unending supplying muses to the desert priest who sees himself as the Sea god. I summon you right now with the flick of my index thumb buried in unsavory wax dug out of my pits and doused with blood from a tributary vein. Show yourself as your captor remains blind by an image of you dancing salsa for him. Come now! Come now! Dakpada!"

The day becomes cloudy and windy at the same time with flashes of lightning dancing in the skies. A little portal gets opened in the skies with a straight beam of light hitting the ground closest to the summoner. Suez falls from the sky literally cloaked in all his armour. His power is limited though but his presence does the trick of sending the daemons back into the dark, hell, where they belonged.

Amongst the Leshmelcans was a young warrior, Niyot. He was also a reckless one. He had joined the heavenly forces to push the daemons into their everlasting abode but his heart still yearned for action. He would always be the first to get to epicenter of trouble even if he was at the other end of the world when there is a summoning. This endeared him to the heart of the humans and a target to the daemons.

This story you are about to read is about him and his many travails.

To be continued...
#JoeyWrites

Divepen1:
Flow, you're the Moderator's pick of the day. It means your work will be made sticky for the day.. Congrats bro

Bonsoir Modey, Sup na? I don finish story o. Help us push am go front page. Thanks...

Y'all can start telling your stories....
Good morning....

MAY, 2004 (The End)

"Oh that man would praise the Lord for his goodness and for his wonderful works to the children of men. He has broken the gate of brass and that of iron he set asunder."
The Bible.

War is something that people long after. They want a taste of it. It is in human nature to engage in war no matter how peaceful the period is. It is as if our DNA has it embedded inside of it. Try as much as we can, we cannot resist the urge to spill blood and if we do, there is this satisfaction we feel in our spirits. It is like the resultant effect of a drug and when it wears off, we go in search of more blood to spill.

That is the nature of man. I don't know if this puts a balance to the ecosystem because I believe man's insatiable appetite for bloodshed will only bring about a close in the chapter called humanity. Someone once said, man is the disease. He is the parasite. Man is like the little moss on a bread. If nothing is done to checkmate man, then the world will come to an end. It isn't the war, no, it is the desire to create weapons that are more devastating than the previous ones created. Man plays with nuclear weapons and the only show of strength a country have over another is their nuclear weapon.

Uncle Philip died and a whole lot of people in the riot. Mother went to the village and returned and life went back to normal. The State government seeing the tongue lashing it received from the non-Indigenes decided to be more vigilant. It was able to sustain peace all through its tenure. The cravings for blood was strong though.

April 18th, 2011 came with the world following the event of the post election violence. I wasn't in Kano then and Kazaure where I schooled was peaceful. The people protested but no blood was shed. A year we won't forget in a hurry.

The end....

*************************

JANUARY 20TH, 2012

The evening was bright unlike the hazy cold morning that had preceded it. Kawo bus stop was also lively as people went about their normal routine with a peace of mind. The country just came out of a strike that did not see the price of PMS returned to its original price of 65 naira. The protest all over the country and the strike drained the pockets of a lot of people. Many wanted the strikes to contine until the government shift ground but manier wanted it to end. Of what purpose was the strike since it left a lot of people stranded in their hometowns and those that managed to return had to do with the little food they had at home. Hunger was already staring at people in the face. The prices of foodstuffs was beginning to climb high.

Alan as usual was talking about girls while Emmanuel collaborated his story. Abdulrasheed as usual only laughed while Dada stood there hopping from one leg to the other. Humble me held an acoustic guitar and was trying to master the do re mi fa so la ti doh notation. I was very interested in the matter being discussed but the fact that I was playing the guitar made me keep quiet.

It was like someone blew a whistle. Because all of a sudden the whole street became filled with so many people. Some rode on bikes, others in cars yet others ran on their foot looking all dusty and sweaty. It was the first time that we had so many vehicular movement at Kawo bus stop for a while now. I looked at Dada, he looked back at me. None of us knew what was happening.

"Kai, yane? Dan Allah, mai ke faru?"

Dada asked one guy that held lots of memory cards in his hand. His answer shook us.

" 'yan Boko Haram ne. Suna harbin mutane a Sardauna Crescent."
*It is Boko Haram. They are killing people in Sardauna Crescent.*

The answer was unsettling. Even though we knew Kano was going to come under attack, we did not know it would be so soon. At that same instance my phone rang. The caller was my elder sister, Alad.

"Hello Attai, them dey shoot gun for Naibawa. No go outside. I hear say na Boko Haram."

It was a crazy revelation. Sardauna Crescent and Ungwa Uku was getting attacked at the same time. Yes, all around 4pm. After I dropped the call with a heart that was already feeling the tinge of adrenaline, NEPA brought light. Dada and I forgot about everybody and everyone and ran home to the television. No news channel was reporting it. It was the following morning or that night that we learnt that Oche of Channels TV lost his life to that carnage.

When we saw that no channel was reporting the news, we opted for Channel O. Five minutes into the musical program, there was lights out. Before we could react to it, there was a loud explosion with the house suffering a massive shakeover. A bomb had gone off very close to the house. As we ran outside, the clatter of submachine guns tore through the air. Bloodbath, a bloodier one began in Kano.

And no, I did not stay to witness it.

The End....
#JoeyReminisces