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send me the new one or add me on fcbk 07064454921, 08094317721 biobaku morzook

ahhhhhhh you! Still have your old number buh na one man dey pick am.... Howz you?

more comments, pls

@linusclark thanx man

@thiscounts.... I will be waiting

Here's a short story i wrote a while back, kindly leave your comments. It's in three parts. here's the first.....

1

I placed my ear on the wall that barred me from seeing what was happening in the room and listened with intent, my ears picking every sound. I could hear what was being said but could not see what was happening.

My mother, I assumed was sitting on something with a hard surface. A wooden stool maybe.

She wasn’t alone in the room, I had heard a new voice, one, I’d never heard before welcome her as she made her entry.

“To what do I owe this visit?” The voice asked. I felt the vibration of the voice through the barrier. The voice was archaic, old and wise. The speaker was seated directly from my mother. I never knew what he looked like.

“The child is almost due and the anticipation of its arrival is making me have restless nights. I need your wise input about this issue.” My mother’s voice now, it was laced with worry. I had felt it in her for a long time. She was apprehensive, troubled by a condition that she herself was too scared to talk about.

“What is it that has been troubling you?” The old man asked.

“It is this child that I carry in my belly, I fear it might turn out to be the like the rest of them.” She spat the words out quickly.
The man emitted a loud grunt from within him, “The other ones were all girls”?

“Yes, wise one.”

Silence reigned for a few seconds, “There is nothing I or anyone could do until the child arrives.” The man declared. “If it comes and turns to be a girl, then we shall know what to do. But as it is, all you can do is pray that it comes out a boy.”

“I have had three of them and I have a strong belief that this”, she patted her belly, “is also one of them.”

“How can you say?” The old man asked. “We banished the last one, didn’t we? It will never come back.”

“I want to believe you but I just have this odd feeling. I can’t afford to birth another one of those creatures. My husband has begun to avoid me. People call me names. I don’t know what I’d do if this turns out to be one of them.”

“God won’t allow that.” The old man now, “l have a strong belief that you and those beings have parted ways.”

I somehow knew that the juicy part of the discussion was over so I removed my ear from the wall.

My mother and the old man were talking about Abiku: that which possesses iku, death; hence, predestined to death. Abikus are children born but destined to die before puberty. My mother had had three of them in the past. The most patient of them reached age six before returning to the spirit world while the least patient spent just three years in this world.

She has another child in her now –a child she fears is an Abiku- and she always disturbs me from having my beauty sleep with her fervent prayers. She prayed to God at every opportunity, prayed that this one should stay. That this one shouldn’t desert her like the others have.

I don’t think God answers her prayers, God doesn’t care about her and neither do I care about her problems. I just wish she’d shut up and let me be.
I heard her as she stood up from her sitting position and made for the door. I heard her as she sniffled, held back tears that were definitely going to reign.

I smiled.

I love to see her cry.

I love to see her in pain.

Her misery gladdens me.

You might think am callous but I am not. If you know what I have gone through in the hands of this woman, you’d pity me and not her.
I care less about her goodwill.

I have suffered in her hands.

She has mutilated me.

She has called me names and shamed me. If misery tags her for the rest of her days, I’d be a contented person.

Adufe, my mother, has had three children in her sixteen years of marriage and all three have died. That leaves the question of who I am, doesn’t it?

If you care to know, I am the baby in her and yes, I am a girl.

Ìrèké oníbùdó by D.O Fagunwa

i have this story i just started, it is about a serial killer that will be known by the readers but not by the detectives searching for him.
he will eventually be killed but then, it will be discovered that he wasn't able to act alone. another round of investigations will begin and it will be discovered that it was one of the detectives originally working the case that connived with him.
what i want to know is this;

1) is it realistic.

2) won't it be a killjoy, a cop working with a killer?