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Please what's the best plan for android on airtel? Thing is I can't trust my device with 1gb data these days.. |
EMEKA1MILLION:Correct guy. |
Cholls:Ain't yo bro. ![]() |
afrohbooks.com/afrohbooks-short-story-contest/ |
Entries are welcome for the AfrohBooks Short Story contest. Theme: What if books could change the world. About the Prize The AfrohBooks Short Story Prize is an annual award for unpublished short fiction administered and funded by AfrohBooks and other sponsors. The author of the winning entry will win a cash sum of N20,000 (Twenty Thousand Naira only) and be published in the AfrohBooks Anthology. The winner will also be entitled to a professional editing coupon for a manuscript of up to 15,000 words. Nine runner-ups will have their entry stories published in the AfrohBooks Anthology. The final selection will be judged by a group of elite and experienced judges. 2. Mode of submission All entries should be sent to submissions@afrohbooks.com. The story must be uploaded as a Microsoft Word document and saved with the title of the story. The Microsoft Word document must contain the following in the given order: 1. Name of Entrant 2. One-paragraphed profile 3. Story 3. Entry Rules Only one entry per writer may be submitted for the AfrohBooks Short Story Contest. Entries must be original and should not have been published anywhere in full or in part. All entries must be written in English. Entries must be 1,000 words minimum, 2,000 words maximum. Entries must be submitted via email only. Subject of email should read: AfrohBooks Short Story Prize. The deadline for receipt of entries is 12 February 2016 (12 noon GMT+1). Stories can be an excerpt of a longer work. Entries which do not comply with the above guidelines will not be considered. About AfrohBooks AfrohBooks is a platform that seeks to connect readers to exciting African authors in order to create a vibrant literary community where both reader and writer find fulfilment. Start sending your stories to submissions@afrohbooks.com.
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afrohbooks.com/afrohbooks-short-story-contest/ That's the new info. You can still submit. |
dewalt:I'm sorry, but I didn't see this earlier. I dint think there's a restriction as regards genre. You can still submit. Its been extended to Feb 12. I'll look for the link and post it soon. |
Entries are welcome for the AfrohBooks Short Story Contest. Theme: What if books could change the world. About the Prize The AfrohBooks Short Story Prize is an annual award for unpublished short fiction administered and funded by AfrohBooks and other sponsors. The author of the winning entry will win a cash sum of N20,000 (Twenty Thousand Naira only) and be published in the AfrohBooks Anthology. The winner will also be entitled to a professional editing coupon for a manuscript of up to 15,000 words. Nine runner-ups will have their entry stories published in the AfrohBooks Anthology. The final selection will be judged by a group of elite and experienced judges. 2. Mode of submission All entries should be sent to submissions@afrohbooks.com. The story must be uploaded as a Microsoft Word document and saved with the title of the story. The Microsoft Word document must contain the following in the given order: 1. Name of Entrant 2. One-paragraphed profile 3. Story 3. Entry Rules Only one entry per writer may be submitted for the AfrohBooks Short Story Contest. Entries must be original and should not have been published anywhere in full or in part. All entries must be written in English. Entries must be 1,000 words minimum, 2,000 words maximum. Entries must be submitted via email only. Subject of email should read: AfrohBooks Short Story Prize. The deadline for receipt of entries is 22 January 2016 (12 noon GMT+1). Stories can be an excerpt of a longer work. Entries which do not comply with the above guidelines will not be considered. About AfrohBooks AfrohBooks is a platform that seeks to connect readers to exciting African authors in order to create a vibrant literary community where both reader and writer find fulfilment. Start sending your stories to submissions@afrohbooks.com. Source: www.afrohbooks.com/afrohbooks-short-story-contest/
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Akure's one of the most tranquil cities to live in. Get to anywhere from anywhere in mere minutes. I've never seen anything more than the light market traffic. Also, you've got to love their neat comfy cabs, cabs that can pass for wedding vehicles. Oda Road is fast developing, and Igbatoro will soon be a main hub of activity, thanks to Shoprite and the newly completed event centres. |
Na to find somewhere sidan, plug my power bank to my phone and start playing Candy Crush or something. |
Luciferlove:You should reserve your comment rather than comment your reserve ![]() |
This is a series of short stories that traverses space to unveil the uniquely different scenarios we each face, and the stimulating battles we fight--through fate and faith--that reveal that we are more human than we think. Enjoy. N.B. Each piece is just over 200 words long. # The cry that rent the air of the room was shrill and heedless, contrasting the peaceable white and cream of the walls and tiles. “Congratulations madam, you have a boy.” The dark-complexioned nurse said, smiling down at the baby who was bawling in her arms. The petite woman whose face had contorted into a horror mask earlier half rose from the bed and reached for the miracle that had emerged from her. His curly black hair and dark brown skin glinted in the light of the overhead fluorescent tube. They had yet to clean him up, but he definitely was the loveliest thing she had ever seen. “Isn’t he cute?” Another nurse said, momentarily taking her eyes off the baby to remove her gloves. “What will you call him?” The woman held up her baby like a trophy and beamed. In that moment, she resembled a portrait from the artist’s studio—elegant, picturesque. All her hours of agony seemed to dissolve in that one smile. “What time is it?” She said abruptly. “Err…” The dark nurse glanced at the wall clock over the woman’s bed. “One minute to twelve.” The petite woman brought her baby to her face and kissed him. “Odunayomi. That’s his name.” # Kade swung the Corolla out of the parking lot, engine roaring and tires screeching under the asphalt. Hot breath poured from his nostrils and he knew his anger had hit dangerous levels. His loss to Grimmjoe was enraging enough and Sue had capped it all up with another act of unfaithfulness. Her third in three months! He and Grimmjoe had chosen this bar on the outskirts of Gwagwalada where no one would rave over the huge sums involved. Only after losing did he see Sue making out with another guy in one of the private lounges. She had caught his eyes and froze. That was when he dashed out. A pair of halogen headlamps glared at him from afar as he urged the Corolla to go faster. He swore and flickered his headlamps but the halogen lamps only drew closer and grew stronger. A huge pothole materialised on his side of the road, and as he swerved to avoid it, the Corolla careered into the drainage. Kade slammed on the brakes and the agonising screech of metal crunching against granite filled the dark night. The car would have stopped safely had a pile of concrete drainage covers not been idling somewhere by the side of the road. The red Corolla struck the concrete slabs and jerked. The last thing Kade saw before sailing out through the windscreen was the digital clock on the dashboard. 23:59 # The door creaked softly on its hinges as it swung open. Mauyi did not look up from his books. “They are asleep?” He asked. “Yes. Snugly.” Niisa answered and leant against the door post. Mauyi grimaced. He shouldn’t have asked. Now, she wasn’t going to leave. He imagined her standing there in her brown woollen night robe, hair tied into a bun at the back of her head and minty smelling from her nightly teethbrushing ritual. “We need to talk Mauyi,” she said. “You should go to bed. I’ll join you shortly.” She did not reply. Or move. Reluctantly, he looked up from his desk. Niisa was wearing a skimpy, lacy, light-pink robe, and her hip-length braids hung down her shoulders. God, she was beautiful. Mauyi sighed and glanced at the wall clock. It was just about midnight. He thought of the implements he had stashed under the bed as soon as he heard her coming. The instruction had been clear. No sex for the duration of the exercise. “It’s been a week since you last touched me.” She began, softly. “I know you’re preparing for your exams but…” She started to walk towards him. He caught the faint whiff of lavender as her velvety hands brushed the nape of his neck. He was going to protest but it died in his throat when she squeezed his shoulder muscles. He sighed and dropped his pen. Oh god, she’s going to be my death. # Seffi was staring at the blaze of fireworks in the sky when strong hands shoved her. She obeyed and walked into the auditorium. The place was packed full, both the main area and the gallery. The men had said all she had to do was to walk in with the package and pull the string as soon as the countdown ended. They promised to release baby Kilo and her mother. The pastor was hollering excitedly and the crowd was agog, but Seffi could not focus on anything. She hid her swollen face behind her scarf as she walked past a set of teenagers her age. Her steps were jerky but she prayed rather that the youths wouldn’t suspect the bulge around her belly. One continued to glare after her until she climbed up to the gallery. He was probably bothered about her attire—her flowing gown and the black scarf shielding her face. Seffi stopped at the window that overlooked the road and placed a quivering finger on the glass. A hand waved from the van after a moment. Proceed. She got a seat away from the window and sat down, as though on pricks. Her body shook as a deluge of tears came cascading down her face. Out of nowhere, she heard the countdown into the New Year begin: 60, 59, 58… # Marti took the pack of cream crackers out of the steaming fridge. He shook it. It was empty. He grunted and slammed the fridge shut. Back to work then, he thought. Halfway, he headed back for the fridge. He took out the lone, beady can of Orijin and glared at it. He had hoped to keep this last one till tomorrow when the celebrations were in full swing. Well darn it, he thought, tomorrow was only a minute away anyway. He kicked at least five different objects on the way to his desk. He wondered whose they were. There were times—times like this—when he wished he could write a program that would clean up his apartment every week. He sighed and sank in front of his apple computer. His eyes roved the bright screen as his hand mechanically popped the can open. For three nights, he had been coding to link against a prebuilt library, whereas the compiler used was different. Now, there was a bug somewhere and he couldn’t find it. He drank from the can and breathed fire as the chilled liquid burned its way down to his belly. His eyes seemed to brighten. He gulped down half the can without taking his eyes off the screen. Wait… there was something… He ran his fingers over the keyboard and hit enter. It worked. Oh God, it worked. # Jumail wiped a bead of sweat off his brow and flipped some switches. He hoped the flight attendant would succeed at assuaging the fright of the passengers who by now must have grown edgy as a result of the severe jolt of the plane and the sudden drop in pressure. Engine 2 was out and he had managed to stabilise the plane, but Engine 1 was just barely holding out. They had to land now. He spoke into his headphones. The co-pilot replied that there was yet no response from the air traffic controller. Jumail massaged his forehead and flipped more switches. The plane had been due for maintenance for over 8 weeks but the airline had ignored supervision of the contractors in charge of maintenance. Now there were 150 lives at stake. He reached for a knob and as he turned, the plane convulsed again and the nose dipped. Jumail knew even before he glanced at the LCD. Engine 1 had given out. He fought to keep the plummeting plane steady but the altimeter drained rapidly like water through a plughole. The dots of light on the landscape grew bigger and closer as the plane descended. Just as the belly of the plane exploded into the earth, Jumail heard his Muslim co-pilot screaming Holy Mary into his headphones. # At the exact moment, you must throw it in. Remember, never look back! Baba’s voice resounded in Eluye’s mind like a shot off a sawn-off shotgun in an empty warehouse. As the Hilux bounced off potholes, Eluye wondered how easy it would be to cast the live ram into the furious waves of the Atlantic. He thought again and prayed that the bumpy ride would not unsettled the ram. Losing the ram to this clear dark night would be a disaster. “No worry Dogo,” Garba, his Hausa counterpart said reassuringly. Garba drove through the beach shanties and pulled the vehicle to a halt just out of sight of the group of poorly lit canopies that littered one end of the beach. They disembarked, and in no time, the ram was out of the truck and they were wading through the sand toward the ocean. The ram lashed out as they neared the livid waves and even Garba got more than he had bargained for. Eluye briskly consulted his wristwatch. One minute to twelve. He laid a hand on the head of the ram and recited an invocation. Then he said, “Now!” The Hausa man roped the hind legs of the ram and yanked the rope. The ram lost balance and fell into the tide, bleating frenziedly. Eluye wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and headed for the Hilux. He did not look back. # Chuks saw Ezeh turn ashen. “What is it, Ezeh?” he asked. Ezeh rubbed his palm over his eyes and looked outside again. Chuks shrugged and continued his stroll to the other canopy. He wondered why Ezeh had not taken a career in acting. The guy was so good at making faces. “A ram,” Ezeh said finally, pointing. “It’s walking… along the beach.” Chuks paused in his tracks and burst into laughter. “I swear, this guy, you be character—” “I’m not joking!” Chuks did not stop laughing. Ezeh began to pace the length of the tent. “This is a bad omen. I knew we shouldn’t have come.” Chuks got serious and walked to the front of the tent, though he was aware that Ezeh could be yanking at his chain. He squinted against the poor light and saw it. Blood of Zeus! It really was a ram! It had just walked past their canopy and was heading for the darker parts of the beach. “Chuks, this is bad. We have to get out of here.” Ezeh was now standing at the back of the canopy, his bag in his hand. Chuks smirked. “For where? Where guys dey find asun?” He dropped his half-finished beer can on the plastic table and made for the other canopy. “Guys. Make una find cutlass sharply. Jah has provided us a ram to celebrate.” They froze, as though dazed. Then they cheered. # Alasan typed in the words into the subject of the email: $2, 888, 912 FROM MY LATE HUSBAND He pasted in the body of the email and hesitated. In those few seconds, he thought of his stepmom and her constant naggings about his being good-for-nothing. To make matters worse, his father was beginning to take sides with her. No one cared about him or his education anymore. Even Zoe, his girlfriend had left him for a rich guy. They obviously wanted him out of their lives. And so it would be, but not until he gave them the shock of their lives. He was going to buy a Mercedes CLK class, give each of them a ride in it, throw a party and then throw them out of his life. That was why he had decided to remain at school for the holidays, learn new ways to make it big, like his colleagues were doing. He awoke from his reverie and perused the email once more. Then he hit the send button and reclined into his armchair. His back ached. It had been a long hard day, all the while trying to compose the perfect email, create alibis, clear his tracks and so on. Buzz. An email. A fish had taken the bait. His eyes glazed over as he read: ME SEF WAN DASH YOU $900, 000, 000 # 35, 34, 33… Seffi dried her eyes and rose from her seat. She walked to the banister that guarded the gallery and looked down. She gasped at the sea of heads bobbing beneath her. All this people were going to die? Her eye caught movement at the main entrance. The two burly men who walked in had mingled with the crowd and were now casting furtive glances about. A tall dark one went down the side aisle to an usher and told him something. The usher hesitated before walking up to the pastor. He whispered into the pastor’s ear. The pastor gave a short nervous laugh. He dismissed the usher and urged the congregation on. 19, 18, 17… Seffi knew she had to do something. She began to wave frantically. Her barrel-chested instructor darted into the auditorium and saw her. He spoke into his earpiece and reached a hand under his jacket. Seffi did not stop waving. Better her and her family than all these people, she thought. One of the burly men noticed her and started for the gallery. While the pastor noticed this sudden movements and hesitated, the tall dark man wrung a mic free and spoke into it, “This is a security protocol, please evacuate the building gently and as quickly as you can.” 5, 4, 3 ... Seffi turned and saw barrel chest. He had something aimed at her, at the bomb. A faint, distant shout of HAPPY NEW YEAR registered in Seffi's mind as she shut her eyes and braced for what came next. |
praxs:Bro kindly share with me too. I have looked everywhere for that book. Sharon4justice@yahoo.co.uk |
The cry that rent the air of the room was shrill and heedless, contrasting the peaceable white and cream of the walls and tiles. “Congratulations madam, you have a boy.” The dark-complexioned nurse said, smiling down at the baby who was bawling in her arms. The petite woman whose face had contorted into a horror mask earlier half rose from the bed and reached for the miracle that had emerged from her. His curly black hair and dark brown skin glinted in the light of the overhead fluorescent tube. They had yet to clean him up, but he definitely was the loveliest thing she had ever seen. “Isn’t he cute?” Another nurse said, momentarily taking her eyes off the baby to remove her gloves. “What will you call him?” The woman held up her baby like a trophy and beamed. In that moment, she resembled a portrait from the artist’s studio—elegant, picturesque. All her hours of agony seemed to dissolve in that one smile. “What time is it?” She said abruptly. “Err…” The dark nurse glanced at the wall clock over the woman’s bed. “One minute to twelve.” The petite woman brought her baby to her face and kissed him. “Odunayomi. That’s his name.” # Kade swung the Corolla out of the parking lot, engine roaring and tires screeching under the asphalt. Hot breath poured from his nostrils and he knew his anger had hit dangerous levels. His loss to Grimmjoe was enraging enough and Sue had capped it all up with another act of unfaithfulness. Her third in three months! He and Grimmjoe had chosen this bar on the outskirts of Gwagwalada where no one would rave over the huge sums involved. Only after losing did he see Sue making out with another guy in one of the private lounges. She had caught his eyes and froze. That was when he dashed out. A pair of halogen headlamps glared at him from afar as he urged the Corolla to go faster. He swore and flickered his headlamps but the halogen lamps only drew closer and grew stronger. A huge pothole materialised on his side of the road, and as he swerved to avoid it, the Corolla careered into the drainage. Kade slammed on the brakes and the agonising screech of metal crunching against granite filled the dark night. The car would have stopped safely had a pile of concrete drainage covers not been idling somewhere along the side of the road. The red Corolla struck the concrete slabs and jerked. The last thing Kade saw before sailing out through the windscreen was the digital clock on the dashboard. 23:59 # The door creaked softly on its hinges as it swung open. Mauyi did not look up from his books. “They are asleep?” He asked. “Yes. Snugly.” Niisa answered and leant against the door post. Mauyi grimaced. He shouldn’t have asked. Now, she wasn’t going to leave. He imagined her standing there in her brown woollen night robe, hair tied into a bun at the back of her head and minty smelling from her nightly teethbrushing ritual. “We need to talk Mauyi,” she said. “You should go to bed. I’ll join you shortly.” She did not reply. Or move. Reluctantly, he looked up from his desk. Niisa was wearing a skimpy, lacy, light-pink robe, and her hip-length braids hung down her shoulders. God, she was beautiful. Mauyi sighed and glanced at the wall clock. It was just about midnight. He thought of the implements he had stashed under the bed as soon as he heard her coming. The instruction had been clear. No sex for the duration of the exercise. “It’s been a week since you last touched me.” She began, softly. “I know you’re preparing for your exams but…” She started to walk towards him. He caught the faint whiff of lavender as her velvety hands brushed the nape of his neck. He was going to protest but it died in his throat when she squeezed his shoulder muscles. He sighed and dropped his pen. Oh god, she’s going to be my death. # Seffi was staring at the blaze of fireworks in the sky when strong hands shoved her. She obeyed and walked into the auditorium. The place was packed full, both the main area and the gallery. The men had said all she had to do was to walk in with the package and pull the string as soon as the countdown ended. They promised to release baby Kilo and her mother. The pastor was hollering excitedly and the crowd was agog, but Seffi could not focus on anything. She hid her swollen face behind her scarf as she walked past a set of teenagers her age. Her steps were jerky but she prayed rather that the youths wouldn’t suspect the bulge around her belly. One continued to glare after her until she climbed up to the gallery. He was probably bothered about her attire—her flowing gown and the black scarf shielding her face. Seffi stopped at the window that overlooked the road and placed a quivering finger on the glass. A hand waved from the van after a moment. Proceed. She got a seat away from the window and sat down, as though on pricks. Her body shook as a deluge of tears came cascading down her face. Out of nowhere, she heard the countdown into the New Year begin: 60, 59, 58… # Marti took the pack of cream crackers out of the steaming fridge. He shook it. It was empty. He grunted and slammed the fridge shut. Back to work then, he thought. Halfway, he headed back for the fridge. He took out the lone, beady can of Orijin and glared at it. He had hoped to keep this last one till tomorrow when the celebrations were in full swing. Well darn it, he thought, tomorrow was only a minute away anyway. He kicked at least five different objects on the way to his desk. He wondered whose they were. There were times—times like this—when he wished he could write a program that would clean up his apartment every week. He sighed and sank in front of his apple computer. His eyes roved the bright screen as his hand mechanically popped the can open. For three nights, he had been coding to link against a prebuilt library, whereas the compiler used was different. Now, there was a bug somewhere and he couldn’t find it. He drank from the can and breathed fire as the chilled liquid burned its way down to his belly. His eyes seemed to brighten. He gulped down half the can without taking his eyes off the screen. Wait… there was something… He ran his fingers over the keyboard and hit enter. It worked. Oh God, it worked. # Jumail wiped a bead of sweat off his brow and flipped some switches. He hoped the flight attendant would succeed at assuaging the fright of the passengers who by now must have grown edgy as a result of the severe jolt of the plane and the sudden drop in pressure. Engine 2 was out and he had managed to stabilise the plane, but Engine 1 was just barely holding out. They had to land now. He spoke into his headphones. The co-pilot replied that there was yet no response from the air traffic controller. Jumail massaged his forehead and flipped more switches. The plane had been due for maintenance for over 8 weeks but the airline had ignored supervision of the contractors in charge of maintenance. Now there were 150 lives at stake. He reached for a knob and as he turned, the plane convulsed again and the nose dipped. Jumail knew even before he glanced at the LCD. Engine 1 had given out. He fought to keep the plummeting plane steady but the altimeter drained rapidly like water through a plughole. The dots of light on the landscape grew bigger and closer as the plane descended. Just as the belly of the plane exploded into the earth, Jumail heard his Muslim co-pilot screaming Holy Mary into his headphones. # At the exact moment, you must throw it in. Remember, never look back! Baba’s voice resounded in Eluye’s mind like a shot off a sawn-off shotgun in an empty warehouse. As the Hilux bounced off potholes, Eluye wondered how easy it would be to cast the live ram into the furious waves of the Atlantic. He thought again and prayed that the bumpy ride would not unsettled the ram. Losing the ram to this clear dark night would be a disaster. “No worry Dogo,” Garba, his Hausa counterpart said reassuringly. Garba drove through the beach shanties and pulled the vehicle to a halt just out of sight of the group of poorly lit canopies that littered one end of the beach. They disembarked, and in no time, the ram was out of the truck and they were wading through the sand toward the ocean. The ram lashed out as they neared the livid waves and even Garba got more than he had bargained for. Eluye briskly consulted his wristwatch. One minute to twelve. He laid a hand on the head of the ram and recited an invocation. Then he said, “Now!” The Hausa man roped the hind legs of the ram and yanked the rope. The ram lost balance and fell into the tide, bleating frenziedly. Eluye wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and headed for the Hilux. He did not look back. # Chuks saw Ezeh turn ashen. “What is it, Ezeh?” he asked. Ezeh rubbed his palm over his eyes and looked outside again. Chuks shrugged and continued his stroll to the other canopy. He wondered why Ezeh had not taken a career in acting. The guy was so good at making faces. “A ram,” Ezeh said finally, pointing. “It’s walking… along the beach.” Chuks paused in his tracks and burst into laughter. “I swear, this guy, you be character—” “I’m not joking!” Chuks did not stop laughing. Ezeh began to pace the length of the tent. “This is a bad omen. I knew we shouldn’t have come.” Chuks got serious and walked to the front of the tent, though he was aware that Ezeh could be yanking at his chain. He squinted against the poor light and saw it. Blood of Zeus! It really was a ram! It had just walked past their canopy and was heading for the darker parts of the beach. “Chuks, this is bad. We have to get out of here.” Ezeh was now standing at the back of the canopy, his bag in his hand. Chuks smirked. “For where? Where guys dey find asun?” He dropped his half-finished beer can on the plastic table and made for the other canopy. “Guys. Make una find cutlass sharply. Jah has provided us a ram to celebrate.” They froze, as though dazed. Then they cheered. # Alasan typed in the words into the subject of the email: $2, 888, 912 FROM MY LATE HUSBAND He pasted in the body of the email and hesitated. In those few seconds, he thought of his stepmom and her constant naggings about his being good-for-nothing. To make matters worse, his father was beginning to take sides with her. No one cared about him or his education anymore. Even Zoe, his girlfriend had left him for a rich guy. They obviously wanted him out of their lives. And so it would be, but not until he gave them the shock of their lives. He was going to buy a Mercedes CLK class, give each of them a ride in it, throw a party and then throw them out of his life. That was why he had decided to remain at school for the holidays, learn new ways to make it big, like his colleagues were doing. He awoke from his reverie and perused the email once more. Then he hit the send button and reclined into his armchair. His back ached. It had been a long hard day, all the while trying to compose the perfect email, create alibis, clear his tracks and so on. Buzz. An email. A fish had taken the bait. His eyes glazed over as he read: ME SEF WAN DASH YOU $900, 000, 000 # 35, 34, 33… Seffi dried her eyes and rose from her seat. She walked to the banister that guarded the gallery and looked down. She gasped at the sea of heads bobbing beneath her. All this people were going to die? Her eye caught movement at the main entrance. The two burly men who walked in had mingled with the crowd and were now casting furtive glances about. A tall dark one went down the side aisle to an usher and told him something. The usher hesitated before walking up to the pastor. He whispered into the pastor’s ear. The pastor gave a short nervous laugh. He dismissed the usher and urged the congregation on. 19, 18, 17… Seffi knew she had to do something. She began to wave frantically. Her barrel-chested instructor darted into the auditorium and saw her. He spoke into his earpiece and reached a hand under his jacket. Seffi did not stop waving. Better her and her family than all these people, she thought. One of the burly men noticed her and started for the gallery. While the pastor noticed this sudden movements and hesitated, the tall dark man wrung a mic free and spoke into it, “This is a security protocol, please evacuate the building gently and as quickly as you can.” 5, 4, 3… Seffi turned and saw barrel chest. He had something aimed at her, at the bomb. A loud crack sounded. Followed by a bang. |
Just thought to write something for the New Year and how we as people find ourselves in different situations and all. Enjoy. The cry that rent the air of the room was shrill and heedless, contrasting the peaceable white and cream of the walls and tiles. “Congratulations madam, you have a boy.” The dark-complexioned nurse said, smiling down at the baby who was bawling in her arms. The petite woman whose face had contorted into a horror mask earlier half rose from the bed and reached for the miracle that had emerged from her. His curly black hair and dark brown skin glinted in the light of the overhead fluorescent tube. They had yet to clean him up, but he definitely was the loveliest thing she had ever seen. “Isn’t he cute?” Another nurse said, momentarily taking her eyes off the baby to remove her gloves. “What will you call him?” The woman held up her baby like a trophy and beamed. In that moment, she resembled a portrait from the artist’s studio—elegant, picturesque. All her hours of agony seemed to dissolve in that one smile. “What time is it?” She said abruptly. “Err…” The dark nurse glanced at the wall clock over the woman’s bed. “One minute to twelve.” The petite woman brought her baby to her face and kissed him. “Odunayomi. That’s his name.” # Kade swung the Corolla out of the parking lot, engine roaring and tires screeching under the asphalt. Hot breath poured from his nostrils and he knew his anger had hit dangerous levels. His loss to Grimmjoe was enraging enough and Sue had capped it all up with another act of unfaithfulness. Her third in three months! He and Grimmjoe had chosen this bar on the outskirts of Gwagwalada where no one would rave over the huge sums involved. Only after losing did he see Sue making out with another guy in one of the private lounges. She had caught his eyes and froze. That was when he dashed out. A pair of halogen headlamps glared at him from afar as he urged the Corolla to go faster. He swore and flickered his headlamps but the halogen lamps only drew closer and grew stronger. A huge pothole materialised on his side of the road, and as he swerved to avoid it, the Corolla careered into the drainage. Kade slammed on the brakes and the agonising screech of metal crunching against granite filled the dark night. The car would have stopped safely had a pile of concrete drainage covers not been idling somewhere along the side of the road. The red Corolla struck the concrete slabs and jerked. The last thing Kade saw before sailing out through the windscreen was the digital clock on the dashboard. 23:59 # The door creaked softly on its hinges as it swung open. Mauyi did not look up from his books. “They are asleep?” He asked. “Yes. Snugly.” Niisa answered and leant against the door post. Mauyi grimaced. He shouldn’t have asked. Now, she wasn’t going to leave. He imagined her standing there in her brown woollen night robe, hair tied into a bun at the back of her head and minty smelling from her nightly teethbrushing ritual. “We need to talk Mauyi,” she said. “You should go to bed. I’ll join you shortly.” She did not reply. Or move. Reluctantly, he looked up from his desk. Niisa was wearing a skimpy, lacy, light-pink robe, and her hip-length braids hung down her shoulders. God, she was beautiful. Mauyi sighed and glanced at the wall clock. It was just about midnight. He thought of the implements he had stashed under the bed as soon as he heard her coming. The instruction had been clear. No sex for the duration of the exercise. “It’s been a week since you last touched me.” She began, softly. “I know you’re preparing for your exams but…” She started to walk towards him. He caught the faint whiff of lavender as her velvety hands brushed the nape of his neck. He was going to protest but it died in his throat when she squeezed his shoulder muscles. He sighed and dropped his pen. Oh god, she’s going to be my death. # Seffi was staring at the blaze of fireworks in the sky when strong hands shoved her. She obeyed and walked into the auditorium. The place was packed full, both the main area and the gallery. The men had said all she had to do was to walk in with the package and pull the string as soon as the countdown ended. They promised to release baby Kilo and her mother. The pastor was hollering excitedly and the crowd was agog, but Seffi could not focus on anything. She hid her swollen face behind her scarf as she walked past a set of teenagers her age. Her steps were jerky but she prayed rather that the youths wouldn’t suspect the bulge around her belly. One continued to glare after her until she climbed up to the gallery. He was probably bothered about her attire—her flowing gown and the black scarf shielding her face. Seffi stopped at the window that overlooked the road and placed a quivering finger on the glass. A hand waved from the van after a moment. Proceed. She got a seat away from the window and sat down, as though on pricks. Her body shook as a deluge of tears came cascading down her face. Out of nowhere, she heard the countdown into the New Year begin: 60, 59, 58… # Marti took the pack of cream crackers out of the steaming fridge. He shook it. It was empty. He grunted and slammed the fridge shut. Back to work then, he thought. Halfway, he headed back for the fridge. He took out the lone, beady can of Orijin and glared at it. He had hoped to keep this last one till tomorrow when the celebrations were in full swing. Well darn it, he thought, tomorrow was only a minute away anyway. He kicked at least five different objects on the way to his desk. He wondered whose they were. There were times—times like this—when he wished he could write a program that would clean up his apartment every week. He sighed and sank in front of his apple computer. His eyes roved the bright screen as his hand mechanically popped the can open. For three nights, he had been coding to link against a prebuilt library, whereas the compiler used was different. Now, there was a bug somewhere and he couldn’t find it. He drank from the can and breathed fire as the chilled liquid burned its way down to his belly. His eyes seemed to brighten. He gulped down half the can without taking his eyes off the screen. Wait… there was something… He ran his fingers over the keyboard and hit enter. It worked. Oh God, it worked. # Jumail wiped a bead of sweat off his brow and flipped some switches. He hoped the flight attendant would succeed at assuaging the fright of the passengers who by now must have grown edgy as a result of the severe jolt of the plane and the sudden drop in pressure. Engine 2 was out and he had managed to stabilise the plane, but Engine 1 was just barely holding out. They had to land now. He spoke into his headphones. The co-pilot replied that there was yet no response from the air traffic controller. Jumail massaged his forehead and flipped more switches. The plane had been due for maintenance for over 8 weeks but the airline had ignored supervision of the contractors in charge of maintenance. Now there were 150 lives at stake. He reached for a knob and as he turned, the plane convulsed again and the nose dipped. Jumail knew even before he glanced at the LCD. Engine 1 had given out. He fought to keep the plummeting plane steady but the altimeter drained rapidly like water through a plughole. The dots of light on the landscape grew bigger and closer as the plane descended. Just as the belly of the plane exploded into the earth, Jumail heard his Muslim co-pilot screaming Holy Mary into his headphones. # At the exact moment, you must throw it in. Remember, never look back! Baba’s voice resounded in Eluye’s mind like a shot off a sawn-off shotgun in an empty warehouse. As the Hilux bounced off potholes, Eluye wondered how easy it would be to cast the live ram into the furious waves of the Atlantic. He thought again and prayed that the bumpy ride would not unsettled the ram. Losing the ram to this clear dark night would be a disaster. “No worry Dogo,” Garba, his Hausa counterpart said reassuringly. Garba drove through the beach shanties and pulled the vehicle to a halt just out of sight of the group of poorly lit canopies that littered one end of the beach. They disembarked, and in no time, the ram was out of the truck and they were wading through the sand toward the ocean. The ram lashed out as they neared the livid waves and even Garba got more than he had bargained for. Eluye briskly consulted his wristwatch. One minute to twelve. He laid a hand on the head of the ram and recited an invocation. Then he said, “Now!” The Hausa man roped the hind legs of the ram and yanked the rope. The ram lost balance and fell into the tide, bleating frenziedly. Eluye wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and headed for the Hilux. He did not look back. # Chuks saw Ezeh turn ashen. “What is it, Ezeh?” he asked. Ezeh rubbed his palm over his eyes and looked outside again. Chuks shrugged and continued his stroll to the other canopy. He wondered why Ezeh had not taken a career in acting. The guy was so good at making faces. “A ram,” Ezeh said finally, pointing. “It’s walking… along the beach.” Chuks paused in his tracks and burst into laughter. “I swear, this guy, you be character—” “I’m not joking!” Chuks did not stop laughing. Ezeh began to pace the length of the tent. “This is a bad omen. I knew we shouldn’t have come.” Chuks got serious and walked to the front of the tent, though he was aware that Ezeh could be yanking at his chain. He squinted against the poor light and saw it. Blood of Zeus! It really was a ram! It had just walked past their canopy and was heading for the darker parts of the beach. “Chuks, this is bad. We have to get out of here.” Ezeh was now standing at the back of the canopy, his bag in his hand. Chuks smirked. “For where? Where guys dey find asun?” He dropped his half-finished beer can on the plastic table and made for the other canopy. “Guys. Make una find cutlass sharply. Jah has provided us a ram to celebrate.” They froze, as though dazed. Then they cheered. # Alasan typed in the words into the subject of the email: $2, 888, 912 FROM MY LATE HUSBAND He pasted in the body of the email and hesitated. In those few seconds, he thought of his stepmom and her constant naggings about his being good-for-nothing. To make matters worse, his father was beginning to take sides with her. No one cared about him or his education anymore. Even Zoe, his girlfriend had left him for a rich guy. They obviously wanted him out of their lives. And so it would be, but not until he gave them the shock of their lives. He was going to buy a Mercedes CLK class, give each of them a ride in it, throw a party and then throw them out of his life. That was why he had decided to remain at school for the holidays, learn new ways to make it big, like his colleagues were doing. He awoke from his reverie and perused the email once more. Then he hit the send button and reclined into his armchair. His back ached. It had been a long hard day, all the while trying to compose the perfect email, create alibis, clear his tracks and so on. Buzz. An email. A fish had taken the bait. His eyes glazed over as he read: ME SEF WAN DASH YOU $900, 000, 000 # 35, 34, 33… Seffi dried her eyes and rose from her seat. She walked to the banister that guarded the gallery and looked down. She gasped at the sea of heads bobbing beneath her. All this people were going to die? Her eye caught movement at the main entrance. The two burly men who walked in had mingled with the crowd and were now casting furtive glances about. A tall dark one went down the side aisle to an usher and told him something. The usher hesitated before walking up to the pastor. He whispered into the pastor’s ear. The pastor gave a short nervous laugh. He dismissed the usher and urged the congregation on. 19, 18, 17… Seffi knew she had to do something. She began to wave frantically. Her barrel-chested instructor darted into the auditorium and saw her. He spoke into his earpiece and reached a hand under his jacket. Seffi did not stop waving. Better her and her family than all these people, she thought. One of the burly men noticed her and started for the gallery. While the pastor noticed this sudden movements and hesitated, the tall dark man wrung a mic free and spoke into it, “This is a security protocol, please evacuate the building gently and as quickly as you can.” 5, 4, 3… Seffi turned and saw barrel chest. He had something aimed at her, at the bomb. A loud crack sounded. Followed by a bang. |
sheymaziggy:Married husbands actually have time for games |
Your feeling guilty shows that you still have some conscience (and fear of God) left. Don't wait until it's all gone and you can't feel anything else. Turn around, change. God can help you. |
These are really funny, but I'm doubly sure that marriage is not this bad. |
This current affairs things is one of my biggest issues ooo.... |
Is there a Whatsapp group for this page? |
I got my package today. Good job chinosxl. Good job Tylogistics1 |
Mariecakes:is this the latest delivery? |
tonero4urch:Biko nor vex o. Please send to hydroniumhy@gmail.com |
TYLOGISTICS1:I see you. How much to Akure? A 7" tab? |
Abdhool:Add me too please 07061925257 |
Jaidooo:so someone else can't sign on the dpo's behalf? |
Chineuke:'cuse me, for the LG certification, does it have to be signed by the chairman/sec of your own LG, or any chairman/sec from your state (which is what I read in the instruction)? |
mikedimeji:'cuse me, for the LG certification, does it have to be signed by the chairman/sec of your own LG, or any chairman/sec from your state (which is what I read in the instruction)? |
Anyone please? Can we attach passport photographs if the printouts are not clear? |
Please the picture on my dssc 22 forms is faded. Can I use passport photograph or do a better printout? |
@chinosxl
this usps item is on its way to your office..
94001118........030248 |
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