₦airaland Forum

harjibolar10:
Make I just siddon jeje, witat makin noise

Lol...namesake of life.

Tell me what you guys think though

Akposb:
Seriously, it's like you are just back from some other planet. Good to know you are still around.

Faithful follower...you're awesome. This school of a thing is another planet though

Good to be around, yeah...

Divepen1:
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.. See what I'm seeing oo. kizzy is back.

I couldn't keep away I should post one of the writings I have (though yet to be completed) but still I'm going to start that. How have you been too

kinah:
she's back again. welcome back girl!

Err, not completely but YES...

Aloha everyone, it's been ages here on Nairaland but some things just keep pulling you in. Writing.


I've missed posting here. Really

I could start with invites for my gees but it's just a short writing today. I have loads of it but this particular one feels different. Connecting with those who're sickle cell anaemia patients who still go through the hell called "discrimination". We're in the 21st century, the word- Ogbanje should be going extinct...

I'm still me and I've missed y'all.

EPILOGUE



Of course, I lived through this also. Woke up to be surrounded by candles that seemed to travel on and on and then I was beaten to ward off the spirits, nearly drowned in freezing water to cleanse me, forced to swallow pots of herbs to rid me of my unending crisis and eventually sentenced off to live with Ewejoko, the young herbalist that eventually tried to rape me before I ran off to the catholic church in the nearby town, never to return again. Never to set eyes on my parents again.

I don't think they bothered searching for me. My ritualistic grandmother would most likely have cheered that I had "faded" and Seyifunmi might just have cried. No one would have missed me, that much I was sure off. But then, right now although I've lived through the worst, the crisis still sets in and although I live in an enlightened setting, I still receive a number of discriminations. But one thing I'm sure of, I would return home, The Ogbanje that lived....


"The defiance you taught me,

The limits you pushed to.....

I've evolved,

You know me not no more.

Now I'm the queen,

A mermaid I've become..."

POSSESSED



'....all you thought I wasn't,
All I've always been,
The sweetness you lack,
The venom to smother you.

Your blindness kept you away,
Your fears shut you out,
You were buried deep in,
You couldn't notice.

Here I am,
Right in your face...."






Qetsiyah©



"It's been years. Fifteen long years since the worst of it all. You'll be fine. Just damn it all."

I try telling myself this over and over again while staring blankly at Mayowa who is seemingly absorbed in his own reassuring words. He must think I'm actually listening to him considering he's not even slowing it down the least.

"I can't." I cut in, putting my hand up to stop him. Making a gesture of my fingers to point at the both of us, I shake my head still,
"We......can't."


Then I reach for my handbag beside me on the bench, sling it across my shoulder and shut my eyes as he lets out an exasperated gasp. Whoever said marriage proposals were always accepted in open places....

"Folusho..."

His call is calm but my reassurances to myself are overcome by the memories I have stamped in my head forever. The memories that added a psychological dysfunction to my physiological one. The cruellest of all beginning the week after my eight birthday.



POSSESSED


I pulled myself slowly over onto the jarred piece of foam that served as my mattress in the eight feet square room I occupied. My already aching tummy hurt even more as I lay face down on the mattress. I was definitely going to die this time.

The thought of dying actually freaked me out and coupled with the dizziness that was swarming my head, the reality of being locked away dawned and unable to help it anymore, I put all of the energy left in me into a yell for my mother, the only person who never could stand my sickness,
"Mommy, please! I'm sorry! I swear it by everything. I won't attack them again. Please..."

My last two sentences faded into sobs as my plea was met with dead silence. This was hell. Wasn't anyone at home? Or did Father take them to his mothers' house after Remi was confirmed dead? Did they really fear my powers? My "alleged" powers?

Shutting my eyes and wrapping my arms around me , I lay to face the wall and mumbled comforting words to myself, hoping by the time I let my eyes open, an angel from the carved images I always stared at in church would have flapped down to take me home to heaven.

No one's coming.
No one would remember you.
You killed all of them..


"I didn't do anything." I found myself talking to the empty room as my subconscious tried to convict me. I really didn't do anything wrong. I didn't.

I was unaware of whenever time I drift away in sleep but the rousing noise that jolt me was enough to wake Smaug of The Hobbit from his eternal sleep.

I opened my eyes, starting up from my lying position as I thought someone was already in my room.
"Mommy? Seyifunmi?"

I called out and jumped to bang at the door from within. The room was choking me as the only window was shut tight. I needed some air at least. After what seemed like forever, I turned back to my solace in the mattress but slipped on the smooth terrazo floor, twisting my left foot and consequently hitting my knee against the cold floor.
I tried to relax but couldn't lift any further as pain formed within my bones. I couldn't help the cry that escaped me as both my legs ached me sore. The rheumatism had set in again.
Slamming both fists against my legs, I pulled and rubbed, trying to bring myself some sort of comfort, no matter how short lived it would be.

Finally I just lay down, crying. Just then, the lock to my room clicked to let in my father. I almost thought he had brought in the daily meal I was allowed for the past two days, palm oil and solid pap,Èko, just like an extraterrestrial sacrifice but he just glared at me.

"Is this her? The Ogbanje?"

The voice wasn't my fathers' and I tried dimming my eyesight to see whoever it was. The pain sensation however took over and I cried in pain, eyes begging father to help as the pain was spreading fast to my knees and thigh.

"Awon emi yen lo n nii lara... Those familiar spirits are bothering her. Can't you see?" The other remarked again.

I looked up to see my father nod stiffly, his face contort in disgust as he gazed at me whilst I whimpered in hurt. It really wasn't any use asking him for help, he cared more about Remi, my latest dead brother, the one I had allegedly brought to his demise.

The boy was already four years old and finally was believed to be doing well. Up until the other morning though, three days ago. All five of us kids had gone out to fetch wood for mother, although warnings had been given against taking Remi along. He was the jewel of the family. The only surviving son after the death of three other boys and a girl in the span of seven years. All after my birth. So it wasn't any guessing why I was the Ogbanje that killed them all. Remilekun had chosen to running about the farmyard a few plots from our home and Seyifunmi, the last daughter, younger than himself had joined in his game. He had collapsed when he reached me, only to start awake in gasps. He never survived as he was all stiff before Shade could run all the way home, craddling him and yelling for help. The point is that he died. My baby brother died. Another one. Again.

And now they were here to appease my spirits. As always.

"Are you taking her now?" I heard father ask the other who I still hadn't seen but apparently was here because of my Ogbanje story.

"Wait, let me assess how bad it is..."

Pointing a shaky index finger at me, he began his lamentation, "How bad could it be? She's an Ogbanje. She has sacrificed my sons to her group of fellow possessed spirits. Don't you see how she's turning and curling? That's how it is everytime. Everytime she keeps showing herself and making things go wrong in this family. She's sick and dangerous. Everytime she has the sickness, there's always a problem."
I didn't know what happened next but my already yellow eyeballs, ghostly from my poor diet with which I turned to glare probably freaked him out a little as he glanced away hurriedly, bumping into the wooden cupboard that stood by the wall side.

"WITCH!" He spat and slammed out leaving me to the scrutinizing gaze of the other. I expected it would be one of those older ones that never seemed to run out of ideas on how to treat a child like me but this one was quite young. Probably younger than even father.

"What do you want from them?" His voice seemed to slice through my head as I tried to turn away.

I shook my head, careful not to say anything lest they used it against me in future. I could recall vividly the last time I spoke when my grandmother confronted me about the deaths of her grandsons and I told her I needed a doctor and not a traditional herbalist. She had come down with a fever the next morning and I had to be taken to the dumpsite to kneel and offer sacrifices to my alleged fellows that wouldn't stay out of the family matters.
My schoolteacher who particularly thought I was a pretty and smart kid had called me into her office one day to ask why I always missed school and after asking some more questions, she told me to ask my parents to take me to a doctor in a good hospital. How could I ever have told them without something else creeping up? Mother was a cloth seller at the fortnight market and father was the clerk at our local post office. They would rather swim in ignorance than be dictated to by their eight year old anaemic daughter.

Shock waves danced through me as I felt a slice through my back. Whenever had he pulled out the palm branch, Mariwo soaked in some liquid, the one that warded off unclean spirits. It left a feeling of hurt that coupled with my current leg clog travelling rapidly up my thighs and slowly beginning to form in both hands, I was sent into a fit.

Mommy...

I thought I was screaming but dear me, my call was the softest of whispers. I could almost hear someone come up to the door before my breaths gave in, my head spinning and finally, oblivion.

glowingscenes:
Thank you kizzykeziah. It's all God and I'm honored to be a vessel of His. I'm glad the story resonates with you. God bless

Amen. You too...

Please make Aisha happy sometime o... I've become her fan

Nice update..... As usual of course


I don't think you should use the 'comma' after the quotation mark once you've used a 'full stop' before enclosing the conversation....

The 'comma' always comes before the closing quotation mark is used.

Illustration.....

"We are glad you're having a nice time here, sir." She said to him, releasing a smile.



PS: Thanks for the mention too

Tonye, you're amazing, that's a fact.

To the story, the main character is really dangerous o. I had actually thought "coming back to life" would even make him rethink or give up or something, the guy just went for worse trouble. At least, he didn't have murder on his name before but now,.....

Plus, how on earth do you know how to operate a gun? That's out of pure curiosity.

Reading made me remember Kayemjay, number one action thriller writer on NL for a while now.....



You're good and I'm following definitely.

It's great to have you back, glow. I remember chocolates and sushi was the first story I ever read on NL. You were great then and still are, (cross my heart).

I love the way you write about the Christian faith, the doubts that still trail our hearts as believers and the hope that dwells, pushing us up to stand down and fast.

You're still a romantic, and still describe the whole romance sense like.....
I've been getting e-mail updates from your blog for a while and those reviews and writings you put up come in nick of time.

Again....



You're remain one of the greatest writers I've met on nairaland. You're on point so shoot on......

Zeeenas:
Dis is ur 2nd piece i'm coming across nd ol i can say is "wow." u paint real life events in short but concise write up.

Thanks ma'am, I'm glad you think so
To think that I just started concise writing....

theorbiters:
Lol.. Trust me, the hammer is coming.

By the way, I love the efforts you put into this section. I look forward to work with you.

I'd better grab a helmet then.

My efforts have been inspired fully by notable names here. Taught me how to put words together and convey emotions into writing and I'm still learning (still a terrible novice).

I also look forward to working with you. Hope to learn from you too.

slap1:
Dedicated to kizzykeziah

Awwn, I'm touched. Fhank you feli much (lol).





So in my opinion, I'd rather you had the first two paragraphs in past tense. More like a reminisce of what had led her there.


BTW, I hope she walked out alive. There's much more to a foetus than a mixture of blood clot and water. Ending the foetus does more harm than good, biologically, emotionally and psychologically.

slap1:
I'm following you honey. Beautiful piece...

Thanks boss. Your view is appreciated more than a regular comment. Fhank you feli much

slap1:
*to him

#noted

Jojodivine:
Nice, Nice, Nice. What more can I say? The painful reality of some marriages. May God help us all.

Big Amen to the prayer.

Zeeenas:
and to tynk most of dis marriages was not out of compulsion but love. D sad part of ol dis are d children who witnessed ol d happenings, dey end up growing wit a negative mindset abt men, neva trusting men nd see ol men as not worthy of deir love as dey might end up as deir parent.

You got it, sis. Really nailed it...

theorbiters:
Hence the need for this thread and critics like you. Don't spare the hammer when you need to come down hard on a writer. Don't offer praises when you need to dish out serious criticism. I trust you can also do this.

I am looking forward to working with you on this.

Your idea is awesome. Really good. I really wish I've been more active around here.

Now I'm looking forward to 'hit-the-hammer' criticisms myself.

Zeeenas:
sooo touching. Nd i can say d woman endured all d battering 4 d sake of her children till d end.

Yeah sh*t happens. I just thought of what could've happened to most women that end up on the news as dead, murdered by their husbands. Those men deserve a taste of their actions...

gorgybee:
so touching *wanna cry*.....nice one dear

Thanks, love.

adegwurulez:
You do have your way with words don't you? Never knew you paint pictures this perfect. Glad I found this, It made my day.

Yay, I made someone's day
I've always been humbled following tracks of great writers like yourself. Boss, sir.

Oche211:
"Pilot stop, park. i'm finally here"
this is a beautiful, awesome, classic piece of writing.
kizzy, u still d best.

My able PRO, even you are 'bestest', if there's a word like that.

VanTee20:
You are a terrific writer, Keziah. You seriously are.

Yeah, loads of thanks to you. You're awesome.

Bleeding Words



A whisper. A hush. A rustle. A rap. Laughter. Hugs. Smiles. Joy. Beauty. Expressions. Understanding. Relief. More hugs.

They have it all, don't they? The Olaoyes'. They're the ones next door. I remember when the whispers began. When their father left home and people began peddling rumors. I recall when the hush came. He was seen around town. Then the rustle, he wasn't returning yet.

Oh! The rap was loud. Jeez, that night he returned was loud. But next I heard was laughter. Every other fell in place. They found love.

I wish the same could be said about my family. There are moments when I wish my father would also disappear and reappear as an angel. All he is now is demonic. Nothing to write 'home' about. Even home doesn't exist here. Every single dusk brings along with it fear. Panic for what would happen next. Would he hurt her again? Would she stay calm and not provoke him?

I huddle together with my siblings in our six square feet bedroom and we say nothing to each other. Our pounding hearts say more than required. And then, there's a flash through the window. Headlamps approach and light flood our power ousted house. He didn't pay the bills, of course.

Then there's a rap. More like bangs. He doesn't like it when we make him wait at the door.

My kid brother runs from the room. His heart in his mouth. Scared of being hit for leaving father standing.

"Were you deaf? You didn't hear the car?!!" He roars at Joshua who scrambles out of his way. He is obviously angry again. Sometimes we get lucky and he actually whistles his high spirits in. Certainly not tonight.

"Mummy, don't go to meet him. Please." Samuel begs our mother who has been on the edge of the bed, her look faraway, her heart thudding.

But there's no escape tonight either as father thunders, "Mama Ibukun!"

We all jump momentarily. He's going to hit her again.

Mum then rises, dutiful wife she is, ready to face her 'better'-half. Next we hear is a round of confrontations. Begins with the usual question of why she wasn't out to welcome him and moves to the request of his dinner.

"The children soaked garri. You didn't leave enough money to prepare anything." Mom tells him and I exchange a look with Samuel. She definitely isn't getting away and as usual, we need to call for help.

Four year old Joshua is near wails now as the first slap lands, "So I should also soak garri?!!"

Myself and six year old Samuel begin with our pleas again, "Daddy please......." But he doesn't listen.

My nine years as their daughter never had a smiling minute. It was all pains and tears. I stare up at my father and his gaze is murderous. He's going to kill her. He always promised to.

Tears on my face, I sprint out of the house. To call Daddy Funke as usual. I had barely left the verandah when I hear a loud bang. Like a hard hit. Then a metal clanks to the floor. Then a thud. And lastly, an ear splitting scream from my brother,

"MOMMY!!!" Samuel and Joshua's voice ring and I turn back in. The metal had been a steel pipe. And the thud had been her body. He had finally kept to his promise.

"PLEASE, NO! MUMMY, PLEASE!" I scream and run to her side. He had hit her on the head and the cemented floor was covered in mother's blood.

I run to the weapon of doom and raise it at him, "I'll kill you too! I'll kill you!!" I rage blindly and strike him hard. He just stands. It seems I don't have the power to after all. The steel pipe doesn't so much as hurt him the way it ended mother. He ought to die.









#qetsiyah.

prettysassygirl:
prettysassy girl must finish this story before 2016,somebody say amen to this

Hallo OP, interesting storyline here and you really don't have to hurry writing. As long as it ends as amazing as possible.


You could try spacing up your work. Makes it more clear to read. And endeavor capitalizing necessary words.

And I'm definitely with this. #followingbumpertobumper

Larrysun, you've always being a wizard with a pen. You're awesome as always...


#Following

kingphilip:
This is wow.. Kizzy twas an enjoyable ride all through



It came with lessons fully loaded that one can't list out under 20hrs


Keep up the good work and remain strong n firm

This coming from someone as notable as you are is definitely appreciated much on my part. Fhank you feli feli much....