AFROZTAR, an e-platform designed to educate the African community on themes ranging from literature, lifestyle/culture, health, personal development, etc seeks guest writers and columnists under the following categories.

* African Literature (Fiction/Non-Fiction)
* Poetry
*Lifestyle/Culture
*Health
*Personal Development

AFROZTAR is a one-stop place for young African writers looking to reach a larger audience with their unpublished works and we are also a network of individuals striving to effect positive social change; a network through which stories across borders are told, life lessons learnt, ideas are born, and partnerships are built.

As a guest writer, this is an opportunity not just to sharpen your writing skills and gain wide readership, it would also help to introduce you to a community of amazing people telling the African story through writing and research.

To be a part of the AFROZTAR community/guest writer, please send an email alongside a sample of your work, a brief bio and a head-shot photo to janeekezie@yahoo.com and copy info@afroztar.com
For inquiries send an email to amaka@afroztar.com

golpen:
Wow.... I really love the concept and the simplicity of this story. It's a very simple work of art, but magnificent in the way you have put it. It is also a story of the usual incidents we see about domestic violence and the innate reaction of the mama's son.

I only think there's more need for the appropriate use of punctuations to separate the first person from the third person statements. Maybe also some attractive use of literary forms, but all the same, I'll read this story again and again.

Thanks dear. I'm glad you feel the way you do and I'll take note of the corrections you've pointed out. #Bearhug

Comments please oo

Cont'd.

Papa was a wicked man? Yes... No. Papa was a beast.

Nwanyimma! Nwanyimma!! We heard Papa barking rather than calling Mama's name. There was so much hatred in his voice and we knew very well what was to follow. Mama dashed out of the kitchen with so much fear in her eyes. Now, she didn't resemble the Mama we knew, the Mama who shielded us from our fears, or the Mama who gave our insecurities no place in our minds. Now, she looked so weak, so vulnerable, and fear suddenly brought upon her a paleness only I could see. Maybe my brother could see it too.

"Did Chizoba's father bring my money here today?" my father asked rather hastily and looked too impatient to wait for an answer.

"Yes he did. But i..." my mother replied but was cut short.

"Oh. So you wanted me ask you first eh. This woman. Have you also become a thief ??"

Without further ado, and with so much hate brewing in him, he pounced on mama. At first, she let out a shrill cry and was too weak to struggle. He squeezed her, he kicked her, he beat her. Papa's face had changed. He bore resemblance to some kind of alien monster and the muscles, the beads of sweat trickling down his neck and all the energy he exerted all spoke one language. HATE.

I screamed, I cried, and I tried to fight. But my brother stood there, by the door, looking very unperturbed. He kept staring at something only him could see. He was distant and nothing, not even mama's wailing, my screams, or the sounds of Papa's fists on her body, seemed to get to him. I began to detest him. But as though propelled by a strange force, he made a quick dash to the backyard where we kept old things we didn't want to dispose of and where Papa packed most of his work tools. He reappeared with a hammer in his right hand and paused for a second, his heart beating very fast against his rib cage. I knew that look on his face. Yes I did. He walked very calmly to where Papa was, took a firm position behind him with his legs slightly apart for balance and gave Papa a hard hit at the back of his head. I watched Papa fall to the ground as blood began to trickle out of his ears and nostrils.
Everything became still. The huge wall clock stopped ticking, and everything that kept us in the reality of all that had been happening came to a halt.
In years to come, I would ask Mama what happened that fateful day and she would say again like she's always said.

"It's a long story"...

Please guys, feel free to drop your comments. I want to know what you feel about the first part you just read. Please also do well to visit my blog, amakaekezie..com, for more exciting stories, articles, etc. Thanks a bunch!

THIS WORK REMAINS THE SOLE PROPERTY OF THE AUTHOR. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.


...and Mama's voice filled our ears. She never ceased to share stories of her childhood with us- of how her younger brother would hide in the bush for days to avoid their father's beating,or of how the community primary school was eventually built and how several cabinet chiefs kicked against it saying the boys should rather be on the farm with their fathers while the girls in the kitchen with their mothers making the need for a village school worthless. Mama was a very beautiful woman. The comfort and joy we knew sitting at her feet can only be likened to what I felt whenever I sneaked out to be with Sunny under the udara tree behind his house as he occasionally fondled my breasts and whispered sweet nothings into my ears.In all the stories Mama told while either picking beans or peeling egusi, there was one she avoided the most. Our father. We knew because whenever Sochikamso talked about how much we loathed him, she only heaved a sigh saying "It's a long story".But we knew her to be an expert at long stories.

Papa's return at night took away all the joy we knew during the day. His return brought upon us a deafening silence so indescribable that we now spoke with our eyes rather than our mouths. He often came back home drunk and on the days he didn't, he came back with a face so stern, beating up all three of us, including my mother At the slightest provocation. We knew Papa to be a carpenter but almost all his work tools were at home and I often wondered what he did at his shed. My older brother Sochikamso once said he did nothing everyday but play ludo with his loud friends, stare at the waists of robust young girls who passed by his shed to the market and afterwards pay homage to Mama Nkechi's tombo joint where he drank himself to stupor every evening. We laughed, Mama laughed, and we knew he was right.

Please I had to stop posting here due to plagiarism issues on nairaland. I'm sorry. But to follow up this story and others please visit my blog, amakaekezie..com. Thank you.

Beautiful storyline....can't wait for more updates!!!

I'll be back with updates in a jiffy..@lenmafon, the woman is a 'no-GREEing' woman

lenmafon:
u want to kill person with laugh abi? mcjenny pls which one be to fall in 'like' again? thanks for the update dear.

Lol..na so e take be ooo

**a

Peacefulness:
how come you know umuahia very well, you are from umuahia?

Well, kinda..umuahia is my maternal home, so I get to visit often.

Hey guys..been having issues posting anoda update, dunno what the problem is***hope this gets through***bear with me please

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Updates in a bit..

lenmafon:


ok thanks for this update. do u see the 'modify' buttom, simply click on it on the second post and it will take u back to where u posted it then u can delete it and just type 'to be continued' since u ve already posted thi one here. hope i've helped u a little

Thanks darl..I've done that

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lenmafon:
gudmorning mcjanny, how was ur night? thanks for the update but it is a double post. pls check it

Morning..I just noticed but I'm not sure how rectify that, trust you slept well too..

cont'd
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* * * * * *

To be cont'd

Peacefulness:
biko make i ask for more. You stay in umuahia?

No I don't, I live in Calabar.

Peacefulness:
Thanks dear. But this suspense can kill o.

Lol..it won't kill anybody biko

* * * * * *
The end of semester exams were fast approaching and those who knew how to burn their midnight candles began doing so in earnest while those who took delight in visiting lecturers' offices after exams with brown envelopes began to gather their substance. Whatever the case maybe, preparations for the examinations had begun in top gear.
Kamsi spent most evenings in the classroom either doing an assignment or just reading. It was on one of such evenings she got a call from Esomo asking her to hurry back home. She sounded really excited. The mosquitoes that hovered around her and the power outage encouraged Kamsi to go home to her friend to at least share in her 'excitement'.
In less than no time, she found Esomo sprawled on the couch watching their favorite reality show - Keeping Up With The Kardashians.
"What's up?? you called me"
Esomo got up from the couch, smiling.
"I've got a tiny suprise for you"
Kamsi knew she definitely was up to something mischievious.
"What is it?..I hope this isn't one of your jokes again oo".
Esomo was grinning from ear to ear.
"Relax, your suprise would be here in say 10mins max".
Kamsi let out a long hiss because for all she cared, Esomo and her 'suprise' wasn't to be taken seriously. She hurriedly packed her books into her bag and made her way to the room. Her back ached, she needed rest.
Minutes later, she heard Esomo open the front door and voices in the parlour. It could be neighbours, or some of her numerous friends whom she'd lost count of. Just as she was trying to figure it out, Esomo barged into the room, dragging her by the hand out of the bed.
"Come...come..come."
She found herself in the parlour and saw two men comfortably seated on the couch. One had his eyes glued to the TV on the wall while the other had his face buried in an Ipad. She recognized the latter and for a moment, she stood there stupefied. Everything seemed to come to a stand still and with a swift turn-around, she ran back to the room...all they heard was the deafening bang of the door.

* * * * * *
"Rich, this is pointless!!" Dave reiterated. "I've told you this times without number but its either you're just too stubborn to listen or too blind to see".
By now, Richard had lost his patience. He wondered why Dave wasn't reasoning in sync with him. He'd told Dave about his second encounter with Kamsi, how she'd gotten hold of a reasonable part of him, and how he yearned to see her again but his friend maintained his stand on the fact that Kamsi and her friend were mere "runz babez" who were hustling for their daily bread and wouldn't offer any right thinking man much.
"Why don't you ever see things the way I see them?" Rich started.
"I know she might not be the best of ladies out there but I do hope you remember that she's admitted her fault and has tried to make amends....please give her some credit".
Dave had sarcasm written over his face.
"You talk as though you don't know these girls. They can do anything to catch their prey. For all I care, returning that wallet might be her method of trying to make you her No1 'mugu'...use your head!!"
Richard inhaled deeply and thought for a while what reply to give his friend.
"You've made sense though and I quite agree with all you've said...but I need you to do me one favour."
"What is it?" Dave asked with raised eyebrows.
"I need you to get in touch with that other girl...at least you both know each other and through her I could place tabs on this Kamsi girl."
Dave only heaved a sigh.
"If you're sure you want to do this, then it's OK..but for the records, I warned you!."
"Thanks bro." Richard said as he let out a chuckle wondering if Dave would ever stop acting like an over-protective big brother....

Peacefulness:
McJanny, you are doing a great work. To attract more readers you need to make the update longer, have specific time/days so that ur readers will know when to expect updates. More grace

I thought 'bout it and I decided i'd do my updates on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays..unfailingly. Btw, ah dey salute you and JollyJoy oo...nt to forget my readers too***una2mushhhh***

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jaymomma:
Another great writer has been born on Nairaland. Enjoying this story very much. More MB to u. Its hard to bliv this is ur first attempt.

Kudos

Lol..Amen to the MB ooo #thanksMuch

cont'd