₦airaland Forum

THT80:
I love reading. I enjoy reading all kinds of written material. I read non fiction books, fictional novels, column articles, blog posts, short stories and poetry.
I am not usually selective about the genre or category of whatever written material I stumble upon, but what I am selective about however, is the quality of writing. I enjoy reading because it provides me the opportunity to feast at the table of knowledge prepared by the author and to consume from his indispensable plate of information. But just like most book lovers, I enjoy reading because of the entertainment I derive from it.
Inspite of these reasons, there is also another reason why I read; I read to expose myself to brilliant, colourful writing.

There are various forms by which beauty expresses itself, but the form of which I have recently began to acknowledge and enjoy, is the form of writing.
For me, nothing is more beautiful and titilating to my senses as a well written sentence - A sentence so well crafted that it not only conveys the message of the writer with profound clarity, but it also engages and activates my other senses to the point where words are transformed to images and images to sounds and sounds to palpable sensations. I have acquired a rare gift of associating words with imagery. When I read a particular sentence, images that denote that sentence begin to automatically arise in my mind and I am uncannily able to describe the form of that image, and the degree of complexity, colourfulness and elegance of the image directly corresponds to the quality of the written sentence.

It's really sad to say that of the little time I have spent perusing this section with the intention of finding something worthy of me devoting my time to read, I have found nothing of the sort. I mean no disrespect to the writers here, but please if you must engage in the timeless art of writing, make sure you are skilled enough to write. I haven't been able to make it past a single paragraph of any story I have clicked on, despite reading over sixty stories on this board. Majority of the stories I read were poorly worded and riddled with bad grammer. The writers who managed to utilize proper grammar in their first paragraphs were just terribly uncreative with words and the expositions and descriptions were like something you'd read from the transcript of an uneducated 8 year old narrating an ordeal. The imagery I got from the ones I managed to read past a sentence were dull, ugly, uninspiring frames and shapes that evoked disgust and almost made me gag as they arose in my mind.

If we must adopt a language as our common language, I expect that we should excel at that language, in every area, whether it's in speaking or in writing. There shouldn't be a noticeable difference between us and the manufacturers of the language or any other speaking group in terms of quality and proficiency. So if we must write in English, then we must excel in it. We shouldn't be mediocre. We shouldn't display any form of ineptitude in any area of writing. We should strive to be masters of the art. We shouldn't dabble into writing because we feel everyone is doing it, or because we experienced a transcendental moment where we received word from our divine creator that writing was our calling. Even if we believe writing is our calling, we should at least learn the art before deciding to try our hands at it, and the best way to learn how to write is to read the writing of exceptionally good writers. And not reading with the intention of just entertaining ourselves, but reading to emulate the quality of their writing. And even when we feel we have learned enough, we should first compare our written work with the writing of professionals before we decide to potentially embarrass ourselves by uploading them on a public forum for all to see and read.

I really hope my message has been received.

I ought to have replied you earlier then this but just too busy with real life.
My guy, English no be my Papa language and we (Literature gang) can not come and kill ourselves because we want to impress fake head grammarian (I wanna ganna) like you. we don't get paid by anyone for the pains and sacrifices we are putting to the website nor the smallest of physical gift, but only for the inspiring comment.
Many writers in here are learners and are merely trying to put their baby-skill to test and hope to be encouraged and corrected through 'comments' and 'Likes'. some shy away due to condemnations such as the above and forever miss the potentiality of their talent. you should know better that we are all different in handling criticism.
Sir, I would have respected your observation if only you have an award-winning story tagged to your name but you are just another big headed e-dioooot.
for your life...i repeat, for your entire life. Don't ever open that your rotten mouth to say you had read over 60 stories and non of it was interest. who the hell are you?

on behalf of all Nairaland Literature gang, I'm putting it onto you that within a week from now, you should come up with a two thousand words (or above) of a captivating story worthy of our interest, so we get to learn from you shebi?...failure to do so...i go drag you enter nairaland boxing-ring. (in Jenifa's voice) Radarada!

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CHAPTER THIRTEEN

GHOST OF AMARAT


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OluwabuqqyYOLO:
Have you read any of mine?

Any of Skarlett?

Any of Fiyah?

Kayo80?

Ghostwritter?

Souloho19?

Lilyjoe567?

You're simply impossible!

I took the time to reply you 'cos your command of the Queen's language isn't poor. If you want the nicest stuffs, create them. Since you can write so well, why not pick your phone and write? You don't fvcking pay anybody here and everyone has a point to start with. No one was born with the skill in him. Excellence is no one's birthright but a reward for hardwork, determination and consistency. So, if you can't cope with them, simply get the hell out of the section and go buy better books by better writers. Shît!

seconded!

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faragai24:
Nice one indeed, need a copy. How ?

pls kindly unquote the entire passage above, it's highly unnecessary...you will get a copy of this book and many others when my publisher is done with it. I promise to send you a message.

kennypedia:
He will update latest Saturday night

...and this is how you know a good class rep.

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CHAPTER TWELVE

BLOODY RAIN


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12345baba:
Make a novel or something my eye dey pain me these days while looking at my phone screens for long

Honestly, I'm presently having same problem with my eyes. To dey type d story sef don dey turn war...my eyes are straining me like hell and my fingers hurt but all they want is a good story. lately, I had thought of dictating it to someone to type for me. And as for making it a printed novel, my God is presently working a plan...I don't know how He is gonna do it yet.

dis ur texting story get as e be o...I wasn't expecting it to end like that...i was expecting more. My imagination had ran faster than where u stopped.

seunnla:
About the author:
I'm Ufuoma and I'm new here. Granted I've registered for ages but I've only started using this account. I love telling stories almost as much as I love being told stories. I've noticed that a lot of writers have to tag people to read their stories. Are these people the author knows or just anybody? If anyone knows, let me know please. Especially as I doubt anyone would see this without the tags. The stories I write for now are quite short. Enjoy, whoever finds my story.
© Ufuoma Oluwaseun


Rain pelted against the roof like a frantic intruder hoping to break into his victim's house, the accompanying wind and thunderstorm rattled the windows adding to the eeriness of the night. Nkem yawned rubbing at his eyes and casting a weary glance at the wall clock hanging in the supermarket. It was 10:40pm. He had to start heading home, Ever since the death of his wife, he worked long hours at his supermarket in order to avoid going to the empty house. Their union had been without issue. He locked up the shop and strolled in the rain to his car. Lightning struck casting shadows in the dark parking lot. For a fraction of a second, he saw the shadow of a woman from the corner of his eyes. His head turned swiftly, there was no one there. He sighed as his car keys turned in the lock and proceeded to lower himself into the car.
Lightning struck again and this time, he saw the shadow again at the window of the passenger seat, tentatively he turned his head and shrieked in fear as his eyes met with the eyes of his dead wife, Oluchi. Her eyeballs hung at their sockets threatening to fall out, maggots frolicked about her face, crawling from her nose into her ears like the jewelry of an Indian bride. The skin on her face had wrinkled so much but still he could tell it was her. Her face was pressed against the passenger window.
“Jesuuuuuussss oh” he yelled frantically trying to kick-start the engine, it wouldn’t respond.
“Bia, Nkem keep quiet biko”.
He continued screaming as he fumbled with the door in an attempt to run out. The door didn’t budge. He started to pray, speaking in tongues for the first time in his life.
She rolled her eyes at him. “Keep quiet” she ordered in a bored tone “I just want to go to our home, shower and have a good meal”. Noticing that he had quieted down she continued
“ I haven’t had a decent meal for at least three years, there’s no decent food in hell” she complained.
“Did you break out of there? What are you doing here?” he queried, surprised that he was able to form sentences given the situation.
“I thought you would never ask” she smiled at him, showing a rotten set of dentition. Noticing the look of horror, she stuck her tongue out and proceeded to lick the passenger window. He started whimpering as he noticed that her tongue was divided into several bits like an octopus with each division seeming to have a life of its own and crawling around the window.
“Chill out” she mocked.
“Kedu ihe bu Chill out?” he asked still trying to get out of the car.
“Oh..it means calm down” she replied retracting her abominable tongue “the young folks in hell use it a lot….it’s funny, the place is hot like hell” she laughed at her own joke before continuing “and they're saying chill out….anyways remember when you used me for money rituals? Fun times huh? Except it wasn’t fun for me, why couldn’t you use your eyebrows or genitals huh?” She wiggled her eyebrows causing her eyeballs to jump around in an unnatural way “ I hear people use those”.
She laughed as she saw that he had wet his pants. “Anyways hell got too full and I got booted by the devil. Booted means kicked out by the way. Those young folks have corrupted my English”. She disappeared from the window and appeared in the car causing him to jump in fear.
She laughed again causing one of her maggots to fall, it hurriedly climbed back to her face. Nkem held back the urge to vomit.
She frowned “Am I that repulsive? Good. You did this to me. Anyways” she stared at him causing him to look away “I wasn’t bad enough for hell so I went to heaven and guess what?”.
“I can’t guess, Oluchi”
She hissed “What good are you anyway. I wasn’t good enough for heaven too so here am I”.
He shook his head in disbelief “Hell can never get full”.
“ See for yourself” She said as she reached for his head and tore out an ear. He yelled in pain and instinctively reached for his ear. Warm blood trickled down his hand.
He tried without success to get away from her, his limbs were paralysed “What are you doing, Oluchi?”.
“Eating you” she said sinking her teeth into the ear dangling from her finger tips “So you can see for yourself that hell gets full” she said amidst chewing “Although I doubt someone like you would be kicked out”. She reached for him again and he shrieked in fear.
Few minutes later, she stumbled out of the car pausing to stare at the lifeless body in the car before disappearing into the night. She needed to find the juju priest.

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The shrine was his only harbored, a place that had seen many lives vanished through a gruesome act, a place masked in fear and horror. Uwokocha the dibia slaughtered a fowl and watched the headless body strenuously kicked, he needed to appease the vengeful gods through the idols in front of him, for he had a nightmare the night before. He laughed mischievously to the sight of the white fowl that had laid lifeless.

“Brought back memories?” a voice asked from behind.

Uwokocha was startled, he turned swiftly to his eyes resting on a scary image of a woman who looked more like a Zombie…she was obviously a Zombie with bizarre features. Uwokocha the juju priest had in many years of his spiritual practice had come across many strange things but never had he seen a ‘thing’ like that.
“What are you doing here? What does the dead want with the living” asked Uwokocha
She frowned “Wait, what is wrong with all of you, can’t I come visit you in peace? now you know I’m dead after what you and that bastard Nkem did to me” she eased her frown to let out stiff smile “News flash old man, hell is full and over flown so the devil had to let us go”.
Uwokocha looked confused, what is she saying? How can hell be so filled to have allowed the dead roaming the earth aimlessly “This dead must crazy” he thought.
“Why are you looking at me like that, am I that repulsive?” asked Oluchi the dead
The juju priest replied by reciting powerful incantation to turn back the dead.

Oluchi the dead looked more pissed “Are you deaf? I said hell is filled so you are trying to get rid of me again after you snatched life out of me same way you did to this poor fowl abi?” she paused and was alarmed by what she just realized “So you don’t remember me!”
“No!” Uwokocha replied as he pushed back, he realized the incantation didn’t work, that caused him worry.

“You must have killed many people not to have remembered how gruesomely you killed me”
The lightning struck as the rain had began to pour casting an illumination to rest upon Oluchi’s scary face, the maggots dropped like picky coins, her eyes rolling carelessly in its socket while she let out a mischevious smile, an intent act to scare the old wicked man. The Juju priest was terrified like he had never. Shaking like a jelly fish.

Oluchi giggled like a little girl, she loves what she sees. She majestically walked up to him close enough to feel his warm breath of fear. She opened her mouth to reveal the octopus-shaped tongue flapping itself on Uwokocha’s face.

“Forgive me my daughter, have mercy on me, I don’t want to die”
he sounded wimpy

His last statement of plea got Oluchi furious, she pushed closer and swiftly slide her mysterious tongue down his mouth. Uwokocha stiffed as the tongue broke through from the back of his head.

Oluchi withdrew the tongue to it place before watching Uwokocha the Juju priest fall lifeless to the muddy ground with a broken skull.

“Geraraheia!” she said in a bored tone before vanishing into the thing air to God knows where.
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Yes I know it's short but hope I tried shaa?.
I will be deleting it anytime soon so I don't distort ur own story line...thanks for letting me.

seunnla:
I would continue it soon, all the works I have posted are actually works I've written sometime ago. At the moment, I'm not so chanced for any continuation but I would love to see what you can come up with. Tag me to the story when you're done.

No problem, I will put my pen to paper as soon as the inspiration comes knocking. I hope you would love it.

seunnla:
Augustap Kimkardashain Souloho19 KimberlyWest duch12 ghostwritter FreshestManny nijabazaar Creeza Maybelconor Frankenstein


Please read, feedback is welcomed

I will give it to you Ma, you are such a brilliant writer. I wish u would continue with the first story...I love horror. if only u can permit me to do a finishing on how she killed the babalawò.

Happy to tell you that Lucifer's Key:Book Two had already began on
https://www.nairaland.com/4087461/lucifers-key-book-two#60959155
please help drop your comments and recommendations about Lucifer's Key:book one, Olodumare bless you all.

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I want to use this medium and opportunity to say a BIG CONGRATULATIONS to my country NIGERIA on her 57th Independence, May you grow from strength to strength In Jesus name Inshallaha...Asheeee!! .

Students, call ur course mates and friends who u know offered my course last session that the lecture had began. Carry over students should come see me in my office personally.

From the stables of GHOST productiion in partnership with INSIGHT CONCEPT and NAIRALAND STUDIO presents

LUCIFER'S KEY (Book Two)
A.K.A (The Armageddon)

Copyright:
2017 SULEMAN TAOFIQ OMOTAYO

osuleman11@gmail.com
osuleman11@yahoo.com

No part of this story must be reproduce by any means without prior permission from the author. you can follow Lucifer's Key Part one
https://www.nairaland.com/3765512/lucifers-key
Thank You


This story is a product of the writer's imagination and a summary of what he intends of it.
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O ye Children of Adam! Let not Satan seduce you, in the same manner as He got your parents out of the Garden, stripping them of their raiment, to expose their shame: for he and his tribe watch you from a position where ye cannot see them: We made the evil ones friends (only) to those without faith. (Surah Al-A‘raf, 27)

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kennypedia:
Don't worry I tell prof to assign a new hall for the lecture if he can he is on sabbatical leave currently

Class rep, go tell them all that I will be resuming soonest to the campus. We will have to make use of the school auditorium because this academic session will be more intresting than the previous...and I will be expecting more slay mamas to grace the front row.

If I talk sey my head no dey swell for una beautiful messages (here on nairaland and emails) Wallahitallahi na lie I dey lie. I really appreciate every words of commendation and appreciation.
Honestly, the hustlings and stress i'm going through lately outside nairaland has left no chance for any meaningful composition (been travelling for job interviews...asin more like an annoying tour to companies). But funny enough, I couldn't just stop thinking of the ideas for the book two as it keeps flowing into my head with every passing day scene by scene, chapter by chapter and I can't help but marvel to some of the unspeakable ideas and say 'thank God' (As in for real...THE WAR IS COMING REALLY BAD like you can never imagine). All I need is inspiration , time, and a chilled rubber of Yogurt to gathering the imagination into suitable words in a systematic chain of plot.
Your wait will worth it.

kajsa08:
great storyline but my spirit can't carry this. welldone.

Ehyaa...baby pèlè but u know I don't write TELEMONDOS