Hi everyone, I'm excited to be in the midst of creatives. I've entered this competition and all I need to win is that you read the story and leave a comment down below. Feel free to go to town with your comments. Thanks a lot in advance. [http://www.elsieisy.com/love-literati-contest-tested-tried-nkechukwu-otike-odibi/]

I held his hand to my face. His sweet, cold hands. I had fallen in love with those hands from the first day I held them. He’d fallen in love with me too, wholly and completely; it was his love that took his life. Actually, it was me. I took his life. The tears choked me as I remembered.
It was during our latest fight. Why call them quarrels when they always ended up as brutal fights. Leaving the ripped clothes and bruised skin to sing of his exploits. I was never one to go down easy. This was one of those times someone ended up in the hospital; but for the first time it wasn’t me.
He was screaming as he hauled me against the wall. He always got so angry. I dragged myself behind the couch where I could temporarily be out of harm’s way. With whatever was left of my swollen eye I saw Eze, his father’s shouting had woken him again. He had seen me on the floor and was walking quietly towards me.
“Answer me, you prostitute!” he shouted.
I could only tolerate the pain long enough to hold out my arm to Eze. He clutched his teddy as he tearfully walked towards me. Confusion and pain telling on his four year old face.
“I’ll open those deaf ears for you today!” He said and the next thing I saw were things flying over my very temporary fortress. First the hardback dictionary, then a lamp that cut me on my leg and then the gold plated award that hit Eze right in the head.
His father cried when the doctor let us say goodbye. All I could do was squeeze his sweet, cold hands.


This is my entry for the etisalat flash fiction prize. Please click the link and log into facebook to vote. Thank you!
http://prize.etisalat.com.ng/flash-fiction/voteall.php?id=101

“So you really can’t even look away from your phone for two minutes to watch what’s going on in your Country, ehh Sylvia?” Sylvia’s mother asked, gesturing to snatch the phone from her daughter. She had come into town for a few days and as with most mothers and daughters, they had been butting heads all weekend.

“Mummy, please leave me. You know I’ve never liked Nigerian Politics.” She said just as Anjuola walked into the living room with a plate of jollof rice in one hand and a can of Sprite in the other.

“Yes! But that doesn’t matter Sylvia. You don’t know you’re a lawyer? This is your work!”She hissed. “Anjuola, Onyeori!* Isn’t that your third plate this afternoon? This your small figure won’t last forever oh!” Anjuola and Sylvia burst into laughter.

“Ahah mummy, I’m just trying to show you how much I missed you and your cooking but please continue facing Sylvia- the lawyer that hates Nigerian Politics.” Anjuola answered in between chuckles.

“I don’t hate it but I don’t like it either. It just seems to drive people to do the most insane things.”

“I don’t know when this one started oh. She used to watch news when she was young. She even read news back when she was in primary school.” Sylvia’s mum retorted.

Sylvia clapped loudly as she laughed. “Mummy, that doesn’t mean I liked it before. I can’t even remember doing any of those things.”

“I actually remember seeing a picture of something like that. You tied one serious head tie like the true Igbo babe you are.” Anjuola added in between gulps.

“Some years ago, it was actually my New Year’s Resolution to keep an open mind about Politics. I was going to start watching news, buying newspapers and all those things good Nigerians do but then one woman crushed those dreams and after that experience I lost all hope in anything being free and fair in this country.” Sylvia explained

“Wait oh! Don’t start the story yet. Let me get more rice.” Anjuola grinned as she raced to the kitchen.”

“If I had not known that girl for so long, I would have said someone had cursed her to eat food wherever she saw it.” Sylvia’s mum said, her gaze following Anjuola till she disappeared into the kitchen.

Sylvia threw her head back as she laughed. “Mummy, not everyone eats or doesn’t eat like you.”

“I can see that. These folds on your stomach tell me you’re more like your friend in that regard.” She said as she attempted to poke at Sylvia’s abdomen region with her index finger. Sylvia jerked back in protest.

“Ohh Jesus! Mummy you’ve come oh. Please leave my stomach for me. Even though I don’t like politics, I can still put your name on No-Fly list, so that my stomach and I can be in peace.”

Her mother laughed off the threat. “You know you can’t do that mostly because you and Anjuola need my food too much, because the things I met in that kitchen can’t sustain anybody. Learn to cook – mba!”

“Nobody is putting you on No Fly List mummy, don’t mind Sylvia. If you can’t fly down, I’ll come and drive you down. Nothing will come between me and this jollof rice.” She said as she stuck her tongue out at Sylvia. “So, back to the story. Who stopped you from carrying out your New Year Resolution.”

“Ohh yes.” Sylvia continued. “It was one woman at a party oh. Anjuola, I think you were there.

“You think we share all your memories. I can’t remember any woman at any party.”

“You were there. It was a kid’s birthday party. We went with Lola. Oh yes! It was Lola’s niece’s tenth birthday party.”

“Ok, I remember the party but what happened there?” Anjuola quizzed

“You really can’t remember?! We were just sitting there watching the kids dancing. There was this one girl that was seriously dancing! As in hinging and unhinging that poor waist-“

“Ohoo! I remember” Anjuola loudly cut in. She jumped to her feet to describe what Sylvia had been trying to explain, much to the amusement of Sylvia’s mum who looked ever so comfortable watching them relive the tale.

”Mummy, that girl could dance! And she couldn’t have been more than ten! We were just shouting and cheering her on from the canopies where we sat…..”

***

“Lola! Biko, how old is this child?” Sylvia asked as she tapped her friend repeatedly. Lola had dragged them to her niece’s birthday party so she wouldn’t be bored. She and Anjuola had grudgingly agreed to come. Well, she had agreed to come and literally tricked Anjuola into coming along.

“Which child?” Lola asked as she scanned through the children dancing to the headache-inducing music blaring from the speakers.

“This girl backing us and winding her small waist.”Anjuola leaned in to see who Sylvia was talking about.

“Ohh, her name is Ngozi. She’s my niece’s classmate.” Lola answered.

“The girl can dance oh. She’ll definitely winning.” Sylvia said as she watched the girl move very skillfully to the music.

“Sylvia, where were you when your mates were learning how to dance? If you should mistakenly go against this girl, she’ll floor you.” Anjuola joked.

“See this girl. You, with your two crooked left feet! If I ever felt bad about my dancing, I would look at you and give myself hope.” Sylvia snickered.

“The fact that you would use me to give yourself hope further emphasizes my point.” Anjuola sniggered.

“Excuse me ladies.” The three ladies, who were now in stitches after mocking each other’s dancing looked up to at the woman standing beside Anjuola.

“Hi, You’re Joshua’s mum right?” Lola asked.

“Yes. Yes I am.” The woman had a bit of an accent. It didn’t sound convincing enough to be real or fabricated enough to be fake. It was hard to tell. It was easy to tell she was rich though. All the accessories on her could buy Sylvia that new model Mercedez Benz she’d been dreaming about. Sylvia already knew there was something off about her. They were about to find out what it was.

“Actually, Josh is in the dancing competition now.” The ladies looked up at the kids dancing and Lola showed them which of the boys Joshua was. He wasn’t doing much in the way of dancing. Just scattering sand here and there actually.

“He seems to be having fun.” Lola added as they looked back at Joshua’s mum.

“Hmm. Yes. Well, the thing is Joshua is a sweet little boy and I’d really like him to win this competition. It’ll make him very happy.” She said giving her best smile.

“Ok, but what has that got to do with us?” Sylvia asked. Her impatience with this woman and her improvised British/Russian accent couldn’t be hidden.

“When the M.C asks for the winner, Could you please vote for Joshua?” She asked looking expectantly at the three women.

Read more here [https://legalwatchmen./2015/02/08/stories-ill-tell-my-kids-2/]

Ugo slowly paced the length of the room. It was quiet small, a bit like a perch. Since the bulk of the building was upstairs, he did not have to walk too much to complete a stretch across the room. Rubbing his mouth tiredly, he motioned to the lady sitting in front of him, who was probably still fishing for words, to take a seat on the sofa. It was not exactly an order, but it had almost an equivalent force. She diligently took a seat as he had demanded. The clock was ticking disgustingly on the part of the wall behind her. He wondered why the ticking sound was all a sudden so obvious. Time seemed to be strolling too slowly. A dog barked outside, its voice hoarse and somber. It was almost like it was attempting to provide a background music for the scenery. A good director of a Hollywood movie would have used Yanni’s “Rite of passage” instead.
Ugo took another look at the woman. She was fiddling with her skirt in a rather naïve manner. He wanted to rip it off her waist for reasons rather obvious. He wanted to hurt her, he knew that. Probably slap her right across the face, but, he could not. He knew quiet well he could not. He assessed her countenance for a while, it was obvious from her indifferent look that she was planning on taking a stand of innocence. Should she plead innocent or not, he was already convinced as to the position of truth he was today. And she would be too or at least she would admit to the truth as it were, he would make sure of that. He asked her the question he has asked her at first when she had entered the house, though he knew she would provide the same answer. Maybe he was trying to test her resolve to lie.
“Who was that man you were with today, Sylvia?”
She did not reply for a while. It was like she was weighing her words, it was wise that she did. He was not too sure how much his gentlemanly side was going to prevail, he asserted, noticing his clenched fist for the first time.
“Ugo…..what is this about?” she asked, trying to sound annoyed. She was hardly successful. Rather she sounded unsure. Even the devil would be feeling insecure in this situation. “I already told you he is a friend from the office. We went to have lunch together. Why are you all worked up?”
“Damn it Woman, do not bullshit me. Friend from the office my foot. You were in a restaurant about a million miles away from your place of work with a man of about 60 something wearing the traditional “chief attire” on lunch break. What do you take me for? A fool? A simpleton?” he paused only to clear his mind a bit. He turned to the window and looked outside. The night was dark, dark and cold. It was around 10 o’clock in the night. The dogs were getting up to their business. Almost every house in this G.R.A area owns a dog, he noted subconsciously. He rested his head on his hand that he had placed gingerly on the window in a gesture of disappointment and spoke. This time very calmly. “For God’s sake we both know the jig is up Sylvia. There’s no secret anymore. I saw you kissing him when I followed you guys outside the restaurant, right before he entered his car and you went over to yours. Even a child would not mistake the gesture. Or were you waving the “friend” goodbye with your mouth?”
She hesitated a bit, probably shocked at what she had just heard. She then stalled for a while, still trying to read through his stance, hoping to see at least an iota of doubt in his countenance that she could at least work with should she offer any attempt to discredit his conviction...

To read the complete story, visit [https://legalwatchmen./2015/05/27/desperate-office-wife-part-1/]

“So you really can’t even look away from your phone for two minutes to watch what’s going on in your Country, ehh Sylvia?” Sylvia’s mother asked, gesturing to snatch the phone from her daughter. She had come into town for a few days and as with most mothers and daughters, they had been butting heads all weekend.
“Mummy, please leave me. You know I’ve never liked Nigerian Politics.” She said just as Anjuola walked into the living room with a plate of jollof rice in one hand and a can of Sprite in the other.
“Yes! But that doesn’t matter Sylvia. You don’t know you’re a lawyer? This is your work!”She hissed. “Anjuola, Onyeori!* Isn’t that your third plate this afternoon? This your small figure won’t last forever oh!” Anjuola and Sylvia burst into laughter.
“Ahah mummy, I’m just trying to show you how much I missed you and your cooking but please continue facing Sylvia- the lawyer that hates Nigerian Politics.” Anjuola answered in between chuckles.
“I don’t hate it but I don’t like it either. It just seems to drive people to do the most insane things.”
“I don’t know when this one started oh. She used to watch news when she was young. She even read news back when she was in primary school.” Sylvia’s mum retorted.
Sylvia clapped loudly as she laughed. “Mummy, that doesn’t mean I liked it before. I can’t even remember doing any of those things.”
“I remember when you read the news though. You tied one serious head tie like the true Igbo babe you are.” Anjuola added in between gulps.
“Some years ago, it was actually my New Year’s Resolution to keep an open mind about Politics. I was going to start watching news, buying newspapers and all those things good Nigerians do but then one woman crushed those dreams and after that experience I lost all hope in anything being free and fair in this country.” Sylvia explained
“Wait oh! Don’t start the story yet. Let me get more rice.” Anjuola grinned as she raced to the kitchen.”
“If I had not known that girl all her life, I would have said someone had cursed her to eat food wherever she saw it.” Sylvia’s mum said, her gaze following Anjuola till she disappeared into the kitchen.
Sylvia threw her head back as she laughed. “Mummy, not everyone eats or doesn’t eat like you.”
“I can see that. These folds on your stomach tell me you’re more like your friend in that regard.” She said as she attempted to poke at Sylvia’s abdomen region with her index region. Sylvia jerked back in protest.
“Ohh Jesus! Mummy you’ve come oh. Please leave my stomach for me. Even though I don’t like politics, I can still put your name on No-Fly list, so that my stomach and I can be in peace.”
Her mother laughed off the threat. “You know you can’t do that mostly because you and Anjuola need my food too much, because the things I met in that kitchen can’t sustain anybody. Learn to cook – mba!”
“Nobody is putting you on No Fly List mummy, don’t mind Sylvia. If you can’t fly down, I’ll come and drive you down. Nothing will come between me and this jollof rice.” She said as she stuck her tongue out at Sylvia. “So, back to the story. Who stopped you from carrying out your New Year Resolution.”
“Ohh yes.” Sylvia continued. “It was one woman at a party oh. Anjuola, I think you were there.
“You think we share all your memories. I can’t remember any woman at any party.”
“You were there. It was a kid’s birthday party. We went with Lola. Oh yes! It was Lola’s niece’s tenth birthday party.”
“Ok, I remember the party but what happened there?” Anjuola quizzed
“You really can’t remember?! We were just sitting there watching the kids dancing. There was this one girl that was seriously dancing! As in hinging and unhinging that poor waist-“
“Ohoo! I remember” Anjuola loudly cut in. She jumped to her feet to describe what Sylvia had been trying to explain, much to the amusement of Sylvia’s mum who looked ever so comfortable watching them relive the tale.
”Mummy, that girl could dance! And she couldn’t have been more than ten! We were just shouting and cheering her on from the canopies where we sat…..”
***
“Lola! Biko, how old is this child?” Sylvia asked as she tapped her friend repeatedly. Lola had dragged them to her niece’s birthday party so she wouldn’t be bored. She and Anjuola had grudgingly agreed to come. Well, she had agreed to come and literally tricked Anjuola into coming along.
“Which child?” Lola asked as she scanned through the children dancing to the headache-inducing music blaring from the speakers.
“This girl backing us and winding her waist.”Anjuola leaned in to see who Sylvia was talking about.
“Ohh, her name is Ngozi. She’s my niece’s classmate.” Lola answered.
“The girl can dance oh. She’s definitely winning.” Sylvia said as she watched the girl move very skillfully to the music.
“Sylvia, where were you when your mates were learning how to dance abeg. If you should mistakenly go against this girl, she’ll floor you.” Anjuola joked.
“See this girl. You, with your two crooked left feet! If I ever felt bad about my dancing, I would look at you and give myself hope.” Sylvia snickered.
“The fact that you use me to give yourself hope further emphasizes my point.” Anjuola sniggered.
“Excuse me ladies.” The three ladies, who were now in stitches after mocking the other’s dancing looked up to at the woman standing beside Anjuola.
“Hi, You’re Joshua’s mum right?” Lola asked
“Yes, yes I am.” The woman had a bit of an accent. It didn’t sound convincing enough to be real or fabricated enough to be fake. It was hard to tell. It was easy to tell she was rich though. All the accessories on her could buy Sylvia that new model Mercedez Benz she’d been dreaming about. Sylvia already knew there was something off about her. They were about to find out what it was.
“Actually, Josh is in the dancing competition now.” The ladies looked up at the kids dancing and Lola showed them which of the boys Joshua was. He wasn’t doing much in the way of dancing. Just scattering sand here and there actually.
“He seems to be having fun.” Lola added as they looked back at Joshua’s mum.
“Hmm. Yes. Well, the thing is Joshua is a sweet little boy and I’d really like him to win this competition. It’ll make him very happy.” She said giving her best smile.
“Ok, but what has that got to do with us?” Sylvia asked. Her impatience with this woman and her improvised British/Russian accent couldn’t be hidden.
“When the MC asks for the winner, Could you please vote for Joshua?” She asked looking expectantly at the three women.
“What if we want someone else to win?”Anjuola asked raising her brows.
“Well, in that case.” The girls watched as the woman sat down and brought out a wad of cash and held it out to them.
“Wait, you’re going to bribe us to get your son to win a dancing competition? Ndi uwa biko negodu! *” Sylvia exclaimed.
“No need to be loud about it. I want something and I’m willing to pay to get it.” She said still holding out the wad of cash. At that moment, the music stopped and the MC began to talk.
“I won’t vote for your son and I really wonder what kind of mother you are if this is what you’re teaching him to do to get ahead. Wow!” Sylvia lamented. She glared at Anjuola and Lola until they turned back to listen to the MC.

To complete the story, kindly visit [https:///0VXtt7S3xv]

FINAL EPISODE OF DRIVING WITH CRAZY - All's Well that Ends.....


After driving like a crazy person down the express way and receiving insults from other motorists for flying down the road like a bat out of hell; I got to Nena's house. Kehinde's directions had been surprisingly easy to follow. I knew the way the house from the town market, so at least I wasn't too bad with directions. As I got out of the car with the box of Nena's shoes in one hand I was tempted to lie flat and kiss the ground! I had never been so happy to see the cream walls of Nena's family house. The devil's plan to keep me from this wedding did not work! I went around to the boot of the car and got Alex's luggage. It would be easier for him to get it from my room when he got back from the hospital.
"You mean if..." The pessimist in my head hissed.
I pulled the box and struggled with the shoes and bag in my other hand as I walked into the house, expecting a battalion of people to accost me asking why I was just arriving. The first person I saw was Nena's mum who saw me just as I was about to climb the stairs. Now, Nena's mum was a "hugging screamer". The extreme type. Whenever she saw someone she liked and wanted to hug, she would start to scream her excitement. Impressive vocal chords, one of the many things Nena inherited from her mother.
"Aisha! Is this you? Where have you been?! I've been asking Nena about you! She wanted to go mad yesterday when she thought something had happened to you. We've been expecting you, my dear!" At this point, I was still trapped in her extremely tight embrace.
“Aunty, it's good to see you. We had issues along the way. I hope she's fine now." I said making what I hoped she recognized as a conscious effort to free myself.
" Yesso. Taye's brother... Err Kehinde called to say you were close by."
"Oh ok. Let me go and see her. Is she in her room? "
“She’s dressing up in my room. Let me take your things to her room. Both of you were supposed to stay there." I handed her Alex's luggage and my handbag and took the shoes with me to see Nena.
I pulled myself up the stairs, yawning all the way. There were so many people upstairs; most of the girls in the bridal train and a few of Nena's aunts were standing outside Nena's mum's room. I figured she had prevented them from seeing her until she presented herself. They all had their beautiful champagne brown coloured dresses on with faces beat to perfection. As soon as they saw me, the noise erupted.
"Aisha! "
“You’re here! Nena has been waiting...."
“Oh my God! Aisha!” All these noisy girls sef. It wasn't like I had died and come back to life. Why were they screaming anyhow?
"Aisha, go in. I'm sure Nena would let you see her. No one else is allowed to go in so we're waiting for the bride to make her grand entrance abi exit. " Ify said rolling her eyes. I remembered how Nena had told me Ify literally didn't let her sleep until she told her she could be part of her bridal train. The girl just had something about her that made me want to charge at her whenever I saw her but today was not her day. I made my way to the door and opened it and I sauntered in.
"Didn't I say no one should enter this room!!?” Nena shouted with her back to me.
“Calm down, Bridezilla.”
She turned sharply on hearing my voice and almost at the same time I caught a glimpse of her wedding dress in all it's glory. I had seen Nena wearing this dress before, I was with her when she bought it and we had chosen it as the best out of the three she had liked initially but there was something about it today. Maybe it was her hair as the curls fell softly down her nape or her face that seemed like it had been moulded with the finest of clays. Whatever it was, it made her look perfect. Really perfect. I was too stunned to speak for a few moments. She noticed that I was staring and waited for a comment. When one didn't come immediately, she got impatient and said "Talk now!"
"Nenadi, you look stunning!" I said still trying to take it all in.

"Really? Are you sure the hair doesn't make my head look funny? "
“Oh shut up Nena. You look perfect. Well, almost perfect.” I said trying my best to hold off the waterworks and bring out the shoes at the same time.
“Curse my over active tear glands.”
The same shoes that had made me feel like I was spending a holiday in the valley of the shadow of death. I went on one knee and put both shoes on her feet. The fight with the tears became even more brutal after that.
" Aisha, don't even start! If you cry, I'll cry! “ She said while fighting to keep hers in as well. Nature won in the end, much to the despair of Joe, the make-up artist who kept on scolding us for making him redo 'his masterpiece'. After seeing Nena looking so stunning and the way her eyes lit up when she told me she had been so worried and how much calmer she was now that I was here; I knew the hell I had been through to get there was worth it. According to Olaf, some people were worth melting for. At that point, I felt like I had been panel beaten a couple of times. That had to fall into the same category as melting. Right?
***
Much later at the wedding reception, after I had bawled my eyes out as I watched Nena's dad give her away and watched her become one with the man who had loved her so hard for so long; I stood with my glass of wine in hand giggling as I watched Nena and Taye have their first dance. The look of contentment on her face was priceless. After all the petty quarrels they had employed me to settle in the past, they had actually made it down the aisle. I remembered how Taye had begged me day and night to convince Aisha to go on a date with him. I milked him dry before I even thought to tell Nena there was a guy who wanted to take her out. I giggled as I remembered my evil exploits. I knew Taye would take care of her. I had drilled him back when I noticed their relationship was becoming serious and laid down some serious ground rules. When I was done, he learned that there would be very serious physical and maybe even spiritual consequences if there was ever any tomfoolery on his part. Yes, I was that friend. But Nena never had to do any of that, I always laid down the rules by myself in my relationships and none lasted as long as Taye and Nena’s.
As I watched them look into each other's eyes, I was reminded of how much I wanted someone who would just get me and be happy with me. I wasn't girly like Nena or desperate for affection or any of that but I just wanted someone who was always on my team.
"You have Alex, you know."
I had felt some kind of chemistry with Alex during the trip or maybe it was all the near-fatal experiences making me confused. But even then I had caught myself a number of times looking all over and worrying about him all day. Alex and I would make an interesting pair. With his charms and good looks and eccentricities and my -
"Hey, road buddy. "
Read more here [http://legalwatchmen..com/2014/10/foreword.html]

Mj45:
Beautiful story deawie. Keep it up.

Thank you!

HEAVEN TO THE RESCUE Episode 7.

I drove in the company of the GPS. She, as Alex liked to describe it, wasn't much help at keeping me entertained or awake. We were too far from any city to get radio signals and so I was stuck with the rap songs Alex had in his car. Even with the songs blaring from the Speakers Alex didn't move from his slumber. Whatever sedative that hunter had given him would probably have given anaesthesia a run for it’s money. I had slapped him across the face enough times to leave the area slightly reddish hoping he would wake up but he would only turn and continue sleeping. At a point, I began to envy him. The things I would have done to have a good, soft bed to crash on right then. He had stopped bleeding, at least the hunter had done one thing right by applying some pressure to the injury to stop the bleeding but I still felt he should have it checked out. The bullet might have been laced with something. Poison? Maybe that was what was making him sleep so long? Or maybe it would make him hallucinate and start to act out his hallucinations! I had to take a deep breath to stop my mind from overreacting. Hopefully, he was just enjoying what had become an over two hour nap under the influence of a sedative. That was normal. Right?

***
I had been driving for almost three hours with my mind constantly reminding me that i could be going in the driving myself to Jos without knowing it. My mum always chided me for not knowing how to drive myself to Kaduna or the cities that led to it. I would always tell her that if I ever needed to drive, I would get a driver and so I never learned the route. See why you should listen to your parents! The GPS had gotten me this far; hopefully it would take me the rest of the way. It was nearing 9am. The sun looking nice and bright, perfect weather for a wedding. It was my best friend’s wedding day. The day we’d dreamed about since we recognized the importance of boys. Nena must have tried my number at least a thousand times by now. I tried to find comfort in the fact that it could have been a lot worse. I could have been married off to some old chief by now or be stranded because I couldn't drive and Alex was sleeping like he was half dead. So in comparison, I was having a good day.

I took my eyes off the road long enough to see that according to the GPS, we were about an hour and some minutes away from Kaduna. A smile slowly tattooed itself across my face when I saw that. If that was anything to go by, I would make it in time for the wedding and the last forty-eight hours of horror would not be in vain. While turning to look at the side mirror two things caught my attention. Firstly, the blinding stench that was emanating from my armpit! I smelled like fish and coffee mixed together. After not taking a bath for almost two days and running and sweating ever so often, I suppose it was to be expected. The terrible smell coming from my body almost made me forget the second thing I had noticed while looking at the side mirror. A car seemed to have been following me for a while. I was on an express-way, wide enough for a person to overtake if they felt it necessary and a few cars had zoomed past so it was puzzling that this white car had been a few metres behind me for almost thirty minutes. I had noticed it earlier but thought nothing of it till I looked out again and saw the same car. I could tell it was a man driving but I was too far to recognize the features. I tried to convince myself that it was paranoia and hunger making me over-assess the situation. I put my foot to the gas pedal and sped on ahead thinking i would probably lose after the bend that was up ahead; but still he followed me. Why would someone be following me in the middle of nowhere unless they knew me or wanted to rob me. I looked around the car, there was nothing to steal. Pastor had made sure to take care of that as I was naïve enough to let him. So what did this guy want? To view the rest of the story, kindly visit [http://legalwatchmen..com/2014/10/driving-with-crazy-episode-7.html]

Divepen:
Please if you miss your time, you cannot use another person's time, I will have to help you fix another time


Nkyotk, we are waiting for you.

i'm so sorry, i was off the internet for a while. Sorry I missed this

ONE DAY, LOTS OF TROUBLE Episode 6

"Alex, you're bleeding!”
He looked down at his arm and saw the blood that had stained the part of his shirt that covered his upper arm. He gently lifted the cloth off his arm to reveal a bloody cut on his arm. I looked around and saw no one with a gun. Where did a bullet come from then. My mind was already processing the worst possible scenario.

"Aisha oh, Spiritual bullets are after you!"
Very interesting, that imagination of mine. I stepped closer to Alex to inspect the injury.
“Oh, thank God. The bullet didn't pierce your arm. It just tore past your skin."
I stylishly turned away to wipe the tear that was about to drop from my eyes.
“Well, it tore enough to get the blood flowing.”
He must have seen the terror in my eyes because just then he said, “It’s not that bad Aisha. I’ll be fine.” His attempt at reassurance didn't help much though. I was visibly shaken and my eyes kept darting from left to right.
“Who could be shooting around here?” He asked, surveying the forest. The universe decided to answer his question. We started to hear footsteps, approaching quickly. Like that of a man running. We headed quickly for the car. We couldn't let this guy perfect his aim on our bodies.

He saw us. We couldn't get out of sight before he saw us.
"Wait! Wait! You with the blood. Wait nah! I sorry. I no want to shoot you!"
I jumped when I heard the voice. It was slightly high-pitched and strangely loud. I definitely was not about to trust any words formed with that high-pitched voice. He could have been a hungry cannibal for all I knew. How had I managed to amass so much bad luck in just 24 hours?

He peered into the car through the windscreen and saw the blood on Alex’s arm and all of a sudden, he started to talk even louder. Then he jumped on the bonnet of the car and continued begging Alex to come out and let him atone for his mistake. When that didn't work, he got off the bonnet and got a log large enough to block the road. All this happened while we sat tight in the car wondering what exactly was playing out before us. After this obviously Hausa man blocked the road, he came around to Alex’s window and continued begging us to come out so he could clean Alex’s wound. I was so tired. There had been so much activity in the past few hours and I thought being a Chief Bridesmaid was stressful. I swore to myself that when I got married all my close friends would have to drive down to the wedding, even if it was a destination wedding!

When the pleading at the window didn't work, he went back to the bonnet and camped there. Which kind life? We couldn't move forward and kill the man or reverse and throw him on the ground so we stayed put. After pleading and rolling up and down on the bonnet, he sat up, still on the bonnet and started to talk through the windscreen. " Ayam a hunter. I saw moving, trees moving and something sounding. I think it was animal. And I shoot. I sorry. I very sorry. Please let me clean it. I have leaf to clean your hand." He said pointing at Alex through the slightly tinted glass. It was then I took a good look at him. He was slim, almost gaunt and dark with a very apologetic look in his eyes. Apparently, Alex's voice bore some similarities to that of an animal. Intriguing.

To read of the story, kindly visit [http://legalwatchmen..com/2014/10/driving-with-crazy-episode-6.html]

THE ROAD WE TRAVELLED Episode 5

The deafening sound rang in my ears. I had to wait a few seconds for the ringing in my ears to stop. Somehow, we had ended up with our backs against a tree. Alex had obviously regained his hearing before me because he reached out to help me up so we could get back to the car.
‘Alex, what’s that on your hand? Oh Jesus, you’re bleeding!’
________________________________________________________________________________

I could only stare. Was this some kind of practical joke? April Fools’ or Candid Camera? Or did this huge man actually think I was going to marry the pot-bellied old man sitting and gambling in there? As if he heard me, he looked at me sternly and said “Iyawo Oga mi, Oga say make you no comot.” How was it possibly going to get any worse than this? Stranded in the middle of nowhere and finding yourself suddenly betrothed to a man with an illiterate as his P.A . Of all the things happening at that point in time, the scariest thought was that Alex and I wouldn’t make it to the wedding. Let’s call it the fear of Nena. It was then it dawned on me that I didn’t even know where Alex was. He couldn’t possibly be any worse off than me. I couldn’t imagine any old woman forcing him to marry her. He was probably waiting at the car or better still watching, and maybe even laughing, from a distance.
I wouldn’t blame Alex if he actually was laughing. I mean it really was a funny sight. Me, standing in front of the door with the massive man holding his hands out so I wouldn’t escape and moving back and forth between Yoruba and Pidgin. One thing was sure though, my children wouldn’t lack bedtime stories.
Seeing as I couldn’t escape, I turned around and walked back into the makeshift casino. The old man who was probably celebrating inwardly that he had acquired fresh meat looked up and smiled at me through his MTN-yellow teeth “Iyawo mi, se o tide.” I rolled my eyes “ Baba, kini gbogbo nonsense eh?”. Between me and you, I barely understood what I was saying. “Why is that man outside disturbing me and who is your iyawo?”
“Ahah, Omoge mi. Cool nah”
Then the old man stood up and walked towards me as if to explain something “Oya, come. No be vexing for me. Take it cool.” All of a sudden, Nena came to mind. If she was the one being struck bullet after bullet with the remains of English language that this man was speaking, a bomb might have gone off in her brain. The girl couldn’t even pretend to stand bad English. She had once walked out of a job interview because the interviewer kept repeating “What year did you graduated?”She said she couldn’t work with that kind of person and she never went back. Extreme? Maybe. Anyway, my problems were bigger than Baba’s English or the lack thereof. This man seemed to really think I was about to marry him. Of all the ‘yawas’ I had found myself in, this had to be the most confusing. From going to someone else’s wedding I had managed to be courted, proposed to and become engaged without even knowing it.
"This is the kind of divine intervention people mark attendance at Redeemed Camp for oh.” My mind and her twisted sense of humour.
Baba escorted or rather stalked closely behind me so I had no choice but to walk to keep from being absorbed by his pot belly. I found myself at a mud house. On walking in, it was the matchmaker herself, the old woman sitting on a mat at one corner. She started smiling the moment she saw me, I couldn’t fathom what they were all so happy about. The old man said a few things in his thick Yoruba dialect that were beyond my understanding. The woman stepped out and came back some minutes after with a big plate of something I was obviously supposed to eat. It was not until both the old man and his wife had left the room that my stomach started to make those funny sounds. I had told myself I wouldn’t eat the food but I wasn’t strong enough to hold back. The betrayer in the centre of my being caved and I rushed at the plate. It was when I was rushing the food that It occurred to me that wherever Alex was on planet earth, he hadn’t eaten since we left Lagos. I left some food on the plate making a mental note to give it to him if he came for me.
I woke up suddenly on the mat. I didn’t realize I had slept off. All that scheming and gambling must have taken my energy. Or maybe that old woman had drugged me. My phone was dead and it was pitch dark in the room. “Are there any windows in this thing?” Just then I heard the sound of a twig break outside. I couldn’t see anything but I sensed that someone was coming. My heart started to pound again. I felt around me for the plate or anything else to use as a weapon. And just like in all those horror movies, there was nothing. To see what happened to Aisha, kindly go here [http://legalwatchmen..com/2014/10/driving-with-crazy-episode-5.html]

HERE COMES THE BRIDE? Episode 4

We had the car packed by the side of the road. Turned off to save the small amount of fuel we had left. No fuel, no food, no money and in the middle of nowhere. This was not what I pictured when I imagined my best friend’s wedding.
The only thing more disturbing than our present situation was MY present situation. Alex hadn't said a word to me since we found out Pastor Pilferer had robbed us. Well, yes it was slightly my fault; but how was I to know we were giving a ride to a smooth criminal, an incredibly smooth one oh. As in, I was stealing glances at this guy the entire time he was in the car and I never saw any indication that he was doing any funny business back there. Anyway, we were stranded and Alex wasn't speaking to me. We stood at opposite sides of the car. He was probably thinking about what to do next while I was busying myself with how much I could make if I sold the events of the trip as a movie script. At that point, I really felt like I was on the trip from hell!
I decided to act some drama to get Alex's attention and maybe even sympathy. So the forming began, I started to groan. First lightly, then more frequently and even louder. Hehehe and of course, he noticed and asked even though half heartedly.
"Are you ok?"
"Please open the door, I need to sit."
More forming. Now I had his attention.
“Ok, Aisha but please you can't get sick on me. That’s about the only thing that hasn’t happened today."
And in true Naija girl fashion I turned it on him.
"So, now you're talking to me?" He heaved a sigh and went
"I just needed to think for a bit."
I was beginning to sound too cheesy for my own liking so I just dropped the act.
"Look, I'm sorry for making you pick him up. I guess being wicked is good a times."
He looked up from the keys he'd been playing with.
"Come on, Aisha. You know I'm not wicked. You don't even believe that."
I didn't but I couldn't reply because at that moment my phone rang. I don't know which was more puzzling; that my phone hadn't been stolen or that there was enough network to receive calls.
"Aisha, Where are you people? I'm about to go mad! Are you still far off? "
At this point, we were at least seven hours away and without fuel but Nena didn't need to know that.
“We are a few hours off but we'll be there soon. What’s bothering you? "
“It’s Ola! Imagine, she came down here and she hadn't done her hair; she hadn't even fitted her dress. When I complained yesterday she said she hadn't had the time in Lagos and that she would sort it out....".
Now usually I'm all for listening to Nena's complaints. I actually envy her ability to totally pour out her heart to someone. I've always been more self-reliant. I guess growing up with boys does that to you ;but today I was just tired, even a bit sleepy and I wasn't even sure of the next time I would see civilisation so I was zoning in and out of the conversation.
"... Aisha, are you still there?"
"Uhh, yeah. I couldn't hear for a second there. "
“Wait, where exactly are you? Because it doesn't sound like you're on the road and Alex's phone is off. "
Alex had put off his phone to save his battery; incase we couldn't figure out a way to get back on the road and needed to call for help but I still couldn't tell her what was going on. She could actually have a panic attack. She was ‘ajebutter-ish’ like that.
“We just stopped for a bit."
"Probably for the best, it'll be dark soon and I don't think it's smart to drive then. By the way, you sound well so obviously Alex hasn't slipped into any insane delusions yet.”
I laughed out loud. Alex turned to look at me. If he didn't hear what she said, he was about to know we were talking about him." He's been good so far but don't get excited until you see me sha."
"I told you! Wait, mumsie is calling. Hopefully Ola is ready to get her hair done now. Please you guys should drive fast oh. You have to be here before the wedding starts. You know daddy's 11 is 11. Be safe oh. Please say hi to Alex for me. Tell him I said to be careful 'cus he's carrying fragile goods. "
“Do you mean me or the shoes?” She laughed her mischievous laugh." You know what I mean." The yeye girl was worrying about her shoes while I was stuck in the middle of nowhere.
“Why didn't you tell her?” I’d forgotten for a moment Alex was in the car as I was mentally communicating with my future husband and plotting how to pay Nena back. There had to be some shade in there somewhere." No, she has enough to worry about already. We'll find a way to get there before 11."
"11? Is that when the wedding starts? I hope we make it in time. "
“Well, we won't if we keep sitting here. It looks like there's a small town ahead. Let's lock up and see if we can, by some miracle, get some fuel there. "
We walked about forty-five minutes and it was almost eight o'clock. The 'let's walk into the village' idea didn't seem like such a good one now. This was becoming a trend, bad idea after bad idea. The people we had tried to explain our dilemma to hadn't even listened to us, maybe because Alex was bringing grammar into the matter.
"Please madam, we were robbed and ran out of gas. Please could you lend us some of yours and the good Lord would bless you for your deed." Or it was "Excuse me young man, do you by any chance have a jerry can of fuel to spare. Please, from one citizen to another."
And don't forget the accent oh. I mean these people were villagers in the middle of nowhere. There was not even a school in the vicinity.
"Alex, abeg your Harvard English isn't helping us. Let me do the talking from now on." After I'd told him, I figured it might have been a bit harsh but he wasn't taking it too badly so I didn't bother with an apology. At the end of the day, my molue-certified Yoruba didn't get us any help either. For those who don't know Molue-acquired yoruba or molue-certified Yoruba is The yoruba dialect which is acquired during commute in Lagos buses. One lady was kind enough to tell us that some men were gambling nearby and maybe Alex could win us some money or maybe she said some men were gambling nearby and Alex could sell me off. I chose to believe it was the former though. We found the place that was supposed to be a casino; it looked more like an abandoned kiosk though. For a second it looked like there was hope until Alex confessed he had never gambled a day in his life.
"Were you really expecting me to say I was known in a bar somewhere for my gambling skills?
“I don't know jor. How can't you know how to though. I mean my brothers gambled all the time. Yusuf always cheated and won and I was always his accomplice. "
“Wait, if you cheated with your brother; then you must know how to play? "
“Well, no, not really. I mean, I cheated with Yusuf and I knew the basics but they never really let me play. Something about girls not gambling and gibberish like that. "
“Aisha, you'll have to be a guy tonight oh. we need to leave here by morning and we need fuel. And you need to win. Let them not catch you cheating oh. Those men look vicious. "It was remarkable how fast the accent and grammar had disappeared. I turned to look at the vicious looking men. Believe me, he wasn't exaggerating.
“You have to be there oh. You can't leave me in this place and you have to be ready to run when I've gotten enough money ." So it was agreed. Worst idea yet.
To finish the episode, go here [http://legalwatchmen..com/2014/09/driving-with-crazy-episode-4.html]

Like Clockwork, episode 3 is out!
BROTHER BUSHMEAT AND PASTOR PILFERER.


I sat up and looked out the window and saw Alex walking towards me. At that point, my heart was racing; it would have given Usain Bolt a run for his money. Alex was a couple of en steps away and the Lagosian in me kicked in “Aisha! What are you waiting for? Come on, lock the doors!” This was no American movie, I wasn’t about to stare at what I was afraid of till it came and caught me. My eyes were still fixed on Alex walking towards the car as I reached towards the driver’s seat and locked all the doors . I felt some form of security when I leaned back in my seat. Alex got to my side of the car and tapped the window wanting to talk to me; I didn’t even look his way. He made to open the door but it wouldn’t budge. “Aisha, good. You’re finally awake. Open the door.” or at least I think that was what he said. “Alex, where are we and what are we doing here?” He looked at me like he suspected I was sleep talking “What do you mean? Weren’t you the one complaining about hunger? I couldn’t find a restaurant anywhere but I saw this bushmeat stall and managed to convince the man to roast some so you wouldn’t die in my car.” It was at that point I looked around. We were packed by the roadside and the bushes were on just one side, the animal I had seen was just one of the few others arranged in front of the shack to attract people to buy and the red cloth and cutlass were probably from the last hunt. It was then it dawned on me that my sleep and hunger combined were even more delusory than the alcohol I was always so proud to admit I didn’t take.
Alex was still at the window waiting for me to come out of the car. I opened the door and came out to him looking at me probably wondering if I was the one manifesting. I was too embarrassed to say anything and I definitely was not about to say “Oh, I thought you had brought me to a ritualist.” So I kept mum and followed him towards the stall that had nothing but firewood and a shaky looking stool. When I got there, the man roasting the meat begrudgingly offered me a seat. There was just one so Alex stood. The man looked at me, still frowning and said “See, I nor dey roast meat for people for hia oh. This firewood suppose to be for me to roast for only me one this night but this your friend no gree me rest if I nor roast for una. So una go pay for my firewood.” After hearing Brother Bushmeat’s (I never found out his real name, so Brother Bushmeat will have to do.) complaints I felt really bad. I had been lambasting Alex in my head even before I got into the car and he had been nothing but a gentle man since the beginning of the journey. He had even convinced Brother Bushmeat to roast meat just so I could have something to eat. I looked up at him and he was seriously studying the roasting of the meat. I was secretly happy I was taking the journey with him in the end.
When the meat was finally ready, Alex in his chivalrous manner paid Brother Bushmeat who smiled from ear to ear. He didn’t seem very upset about his firewood once the crisp naira notes were in his hands. We went back to the car to continue our journey. We still had about ten hours to go. It was nearing 5:00 pm when we got back on the road. It was obvious from the lack of taste in the meat that Brother Bushmeat was no Masterchef. There was no flavor within miles of the food but I was too hungry to be picky. After I’d eaten a bit and my body had returned to its normal state, I realized I hadn’t said a word to Alex since we got back into the car and decided to break the silence. “Thanks for convincing the man to roast the meat. Hunger and I aren’t very good friends.” He smiled and looked away from the road long enough to say “How does it taste?”
I didn’t want to complain so I said “Oh, it’s nice”. Which wasn’t such a stretch from the truth, I mean at least it wasn’t raw. He knew better though “Ahh, Aisha so you still tell these your’ nice- nice’ lies?” I burst out laughing because a memory had just crept into my head. Back in high school, it was on one of those days when the teachers had gone on a rampage and were forcing everyone to find another person to cut their hair. Yewande, one of those shakara girls had found her hair at the mercy of some Js3 boy who had never handled a clipper in his life.
Click here to continue the story [http://legalwatchmen..com/2014/09/driving-with-crazy-episode-3.html]

I didn't even know how to react. I didn't even have the opportunity to. Other late boarders pushed me aside so they could show their own boarding passes. Then Nena called, I managed to explain to her how I had fought my way and made it in the nick of time just to find out I didn't have my boarding pass with me. She was too stunned to react. Taye immediately took the phone and calmed her down just to prevent a serious bridezilla moment from taking place. “Aisha, I'm so sorry for all the stress. Don’t worry; we’ll name one of our kids after you.” I figured that was good payment for my labour of love. It must have been at this moment that the terrible idea entered his head because the next thing I heard was “I don’t really know any transport companies that would have buses going to Kaduna at this time but……. Alex just told me he was going to drive down.”
Before I could even reply, my mind had gone from “This Taye boy must be mad. He wants to put you in the same car with that psycho for thirteen hours! ” to “But even though Alex is probably not well; you’ve always had a crush on him. Doesn't that make you slightly insane as well?” Luckily, the sensible part of me got to speak first. “Taye, not in a million years, not when pigs fly, not even when Mama Joy learns to sweep. Never!” I could hear him laughing now; I hoped for his sake that it was a joke. How could he even ask me to survive a thirteen hour journey with Alex! The same person that glued the clothes on his back to the building of his secondary school with super glue to prevent the bulldozers from tearing it down. Nenadi and I had already established that he must have left a sizeable part of his common sense at Customs when he was coming back into Nigeria after getting his University education in Manchester. We had been classmates since Secondary School and we always had this crush on each other but no kind of crush would make me overlook the fact that he sometimes acted like things were controlling him. Nena took the phone back and started to plead and promise the heavens and the earth if I would just drive down with Alex. “Aisha, please now. You know I would never allow this but I beg you. I feel guilty for making you miss the flight. You don’t even have to talk to him, but you know he’s not always psycho. Taye even said he’s a lot cooler now and he’s always been funny so it might even be fun”. How could these people be telling me he was cooler. The fact that he hadn’t even started his half a day journey said otherwise; but I knew I couldn’t say no. “Tell Taye that for this, I would name your first two children and you know I have a thing for the name Boniface”. She laughed and said Taye would call Alex and have him pick me up. They were about to take off and so they promised to call immediately they landed.
It was amazing how my day had just taken a turn I would never have seen coming. I had driven through Lagos like a bat out of hell and still missed my flight and now I was about to embark on the longest road trip of my life with my longtime crush/psycho. I took a cab home and waited for Alex to come by so we could get going. It was about 1:00pm before I heard a horn at the gate. My luggage had already gone with Aisha and Taye so all I really needed to get to Kano with where the shoes and my sanity.

To see the rest of the story, go here [http://legalwatchmen..com/2014/09/driving-with-crazy.html]

oh, i didn't know i could do that. Thanks

The second part of the series. For those just joining us, See the first part [http://legalwatchmen..com/2014/09/operation-get-to-airport.html]

I didn't even know how to react. I didn't even have the opportunity to. Other late boarders pushed me aside so they could show their own boarding passes. Then Nena called, I managed to explain to her how I had fought my way and made it in the nick of time just to find out I didn't have my boarding pass with me. She was too stunned to react. Taye immediately took the phone and calmed her down just to prevent a serious bridezilla moment from taking place. “Aisha, I'm so sorry for all the stress. Don’t worry; we’ll name one of our kids after you.” I figured that was good payment for my labour of love. It must have been at this moment that the terrible idea entered his head because the next thing I heard was “I don’t really know any transport companies that would have buses going to Kaduna at this time but……. Alex just told me he was going to drive down.”
Before I could even reply, my mind had gone from “This Taye boy must be mad. He wants to put you in the same car with that psycho for thirteen hours! ” to “But even though Alex is probably not well; you’ve always had a crush on him. Doesn't that make you slightly insane as well?” Luckily, the sensible part of me got to speak first. “Taye, not in a million years, not when pigs fly, not even when Mama Joy learns to sweep. Never!” I could hear him laughing now; I hoped for his sake that it was a joke. How could he even ask me to survive a thirteen hour journey with Alex! The same person that glued the clothes on his back to the building of his secondary school with super glue to prevent the bulldozers from tearing it down. Nenadi and I had already established that he must have left a sizeable part of his common sense at Customs when he was coming back into Nigeria after getting his University education in Manchester. We had been classmates since Secondary School and we always had this crush on each other but no kind of crush would make me overlook the fact that he sometimes acted like things were controlling him. Nena took the phone back and started to plead and promise the heavens and the earth if I would just drive down with Alex. “Aisha, please now. You know I would never allow this but I beg you. I feel guilty for making you miss the flight. You don’t even have to talk to him, but you know he’s not always psycho. Taye even said he’s a lot cooler now and he’s always been funny so it might even be fun”.

For the rest of the story, visit [http://legalwatchmen..com/2014/09/driving-with-crazy.html]

thanks Divepen

hi, are there still slots for short stories and poems because I would like one.

Five months ago, Taye had proposed to Nenadi, one of my best friends in the most romantic way possible. Well, to some it was really romantic. You see Nenadi and Taye were intellectuals or ‘i-too-know’s whichever you like. They attributed their chemistry to this ‘i-too-knowism’; and so when Taye had proposed by spelling out the words ‘Will you marry me?’ in their scrabble game while they were on holiday in Dubai; it was romantic by Taye standards. Anyway, five minutes later, Nenadi was on the phone with me and we were screaming our earlobes to disfunction. Finally! There would be a wedding, and at the right time too. I was beginning to feel like I hadn't had any owambes in a while so what better way to get out of my rut than with my best friend’s wedding. Before I go on, I realize I haven’t introduced myself, this kind of thing happens often when I'm giving gist. My name is Aisha Usman. I've been friends with Nenadi for as long as I can remember. We've convinced some people that we are cousins because we both come from Southern Kaduna, Nigeria. So back to my gist; after months of running around the wedding had finally come and we were to leave in a couple of hours for the airport to leave Lagos for Kaduna. Nenadi's parents had refused to compromise on the location. They insisted it would be back home or they wouldn't attend thus the cross country journey.
Most of the guests had already arrived Kaduna, most had flown down the day before because everyone knew the hassle involved in going from Lagos to Kaduna especially during the holidays. It was the busiest weekend of the year; the weekend before the New Year and Taye, the prompt one of the two love birds had drummed it into everyone’s ears that we had to get to the airport on time so we wouldn't miss our flight but as they say, opposites attract. Nena, as I called her, couldn't be on time or organized to save her life. I’d come to accept that lateness was in her DNA. So as usual, she managed to delay everyone and we ended up leaving the house an hour twenty minutes to the scheduled time for the flight.
We eventually made our way through the forest of thorns that is Lagos traffic and got to the airport with all of thirty minutes before the flight was scheduled to take off. We checked in and found our way to the waiting lounge. Just as we got settled in the lounge, we heard the announcement that our flight would be delayed due to bad weather. The woman’s voice must have triggered something in Nenadi’s head because she jumped suddenly. We all turned to look at her as she shrieked ‘Aisha, I forgot the shoes!’
Before I go on, there is a story behind these shoes. Nena was a shoe lover. When she passed her exams, she treated herself with shoes. When she lost weight, she treated herself with shoes but this particular pair was special. For the past six years, we had both put away some money every month so we could comfortably afford a pair of Louboutins for our wedding days which would set us back more than a hundred thousand. Before Taye proposed we had saved about eighty thousand each but when the marriage became imminent Nena bought hers. So you see why these shoes couldn’t be left behind;

To see the rest of this week's story and follow the series visit [http://legalwatchmen..com/2014/09/operation-get-to-airport.html/]

I guess that my difficulty in being able to write about women related themes in my writings stemmed from the fact that when I had grown to the level of self-realization, my mother who could properly guide me through the mountainous range of knowing and appreciate the opposite sex was no more of this earth, or perhaps because I grew with a female sibling, or even maybe, because I grew up in a conventional Nigerian family , ferociously grounded in morals, where it would amount to a taboo for a man to ever think of stooping so low to the level of a woman( Infact, God help you if Papa should as much as catch you innocently daydreaming about the opposite sex).
I had methodically embarked on a joyous voyage of Thank-God-I-Am-A-Man themed writings. A moment of introspection had awakened in me and opened my eyes to the wonders and amazing world of being a woman. A task which I will not set out here, but suffice it to say that being a woman is a very beautiful experience. That sadly seems to be on a sharp decline as evinced from the various acts of violence against women. Questions after question continually barraged my mind. What if my future wife was someone who had undergone the damaging and traumatizing effects of being raped? What if I am nowhere to be found tomorrow, what will the fate of my future daughters in a world of prejudiced values against women? What if my only sister, had she been alive, grows to become a victim of rape? Worst of all, what if I had been born a girl, who could tell, if I wouldn't have experienced such traumatic moments of being dehumanized and downgraded? As these unanswered questions kept nagging at me, I found myself invariably departing from mainstream Collins; trademark Arikor, who naturally is stone-hearted when it comes to matters concerning the opposite sex. Because whichever way you decide to look at it, the issue of touches us all in one way or the other. And then an inner voice told me it was time to wear the shoes of rape victims so as to feel how it pinches; it was time to lend my voice to the dastardly act of rape. This monster called rape.
A casual glance through daily newspapers will reveal the alarming rate at which rape is now jostling positions with the now 'perceived-normal' Boko-Haram endemic. For every page that reports about the inhuman activities of the evil boko-haram sect,-which is very many,-there is a corresponding page of a rape report somewhere from Abia to Sokoto; Lagos to Kaduna; Ebonyi to Rivers etc. The customary blaming of the rape on the devil seems out of vogue now( I believe maybe the devil must have angrily cautioned any rapist to mention the devil at the rapists' own peril). The flimsy and unreasonable excuse now is that the sheer dressing of the victim and her flirtatious lifestyle called for her to be raped!. What sexual appeal, if any, premised on her dressing, a five-year old toddler has can best be answered by the rapists themselves. To read the entire post, go here[legalwatchmen..com/2014/07/the-monster-called-rape.html]