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“Emma! Before it gets to when you start making unrealistic promises to each other” Mummy said giving me a stare while I wondered where this was headed.

“Before it gets to when you can’t go a day without seeing or thinking of each other” she continued with me still lost at sea.

“Before you make up your mind to spend the rest of your life with her” then suddenly it clicked.

“I must get down both knees and talk to God about it?” I asked interrupting my mother wearing a fake broad smile across my face.

“Yes… you should talk to God about it. Nothing is too small for Him to handle if only you will lay it at His feet.” Daddy answered though my rhetorical question wasn’t directed at him.

“Yes!” his wife responded nodding “But you must also bring the girl home to spend some days with us. So I can examine her”

“Mummy is that really necessary?” John my younger brother inquired looking a little disarrayed.

“Yes, it is. In fact, she would spend at least a week with us to give me enough time to properly…”

“Properly interrogate her like a suspect in custody?” I provided her with the remaining of her sentence.

“Your mother doesn’t mean it that way; she has your best interest at heart. Your number of days in this world will be largely determined by the woman you choose as wife”. Daddy added with the rest of us nodding in appreciation of his ever fresh words of wisdom.

“I don’t want to chase your wives-to-be away” Mummy continued as compassion slowly appeared on her face. “I just don’t want my lovely boys to end with the devil in a beautiful dress”.

“Mummy, should I bring my husband-to-be home too?” Mary asked trying not to be left out and that resulted into a long laughter.

“Yes honey, you will bring him home too, so your father can spend some time with him”. Returning to face us, she continued “I just want all of you to enjoy that special kind of bond I share with your father”.

She said giving him a wink, he returned her kind gesture with a broad smile, then reached for her hand on the table. Immediately his hands met hers, we heard a sudden sharp and deafening explosion just outside our house like an airplane crashed into our backyard.

“Jesus!” Mummy exclaimed already panicking.

“Daddy, what was that?” I inquired confused myself.

“Could it be one of those large tanks the size of a four story building located at the petrol depot close by?” I wondered.

“I don’t know son” Daddy responded desperately looking around in search of glue to what just rocked our not so long ago quiet world.

Few seconds after, the table and everything on it began rattling like a freight train just passed our house. The surface of the glass of five-alive juice in front of me became unsettled. John looked at me, eyebrows raised and fright evident in his face.

In that moment, the floor began moving like the earth was experiencing a convulsion, shivering up and down with vigorous strength. Making noise like an extended thunder, only worsen because the vibrations were coming from below.

“Take cover! Get under the table quickly!” came a familiar voice and in responds we all went under the table. The vibrations intensified, books fell off shelves, glasses on the table and shelves smashed. From under the table, I watched the outstanding framed picture of my father in his police uniform, wearing a broad smile fell off the wall heavily on the terracotta tile, smashing into pieces.

Together we scrambled for the table’s legs, pulling ourselves underneath while the floor shook with more noise than a quarry detonation, releasing the tension of eons. Suddenly, the lights swung violently from the ceiling and flickered rapidly before going out totally. Cracks appeared from the ground beneath, on the walls and ceiling. It gave out a loud deafening sound. Our screams lost under the earsplitting noise as some parts of the ceiling came down in chunks; some landed heavily on the table we were underneath. Our hearts took a nosedive into our stomach, as fear and panic gripped us to the bones.

“God, is this it? Is this how am going to die? I have always prayed and thought my death would be a peaceful one, where I would sleep after a beautiful meal with my family and never wake up. I never saw myself trapped to a grisly death by crashing but here we are. Anyway it came, I was fully ready. I have been a faithful child, doing everything the holy book says will lead to heaven”.

Still lost in thought, the ceiling fan that once provided us fresh air began swinging violently till it fell off and landed heavily on the floor right beside us pulling me back to the unending nightmare. The table began jumping over the floor like it had a mind of its own. More parts of the ceiling came down as the cracks widened.

I knew whether we live or die depends on whether the house stands or falls, either way our fate was a joint one. We will either walk away hand in hand or perish in the rubble.

“Out-side! Let’s go! Let’s go outside! Before the house comes crashing down on us!” the familiar voice screamed again. Almost immediately, we reached for each other’s hand and scrambled up to our feet but in a flash, lost balance and were reduced to crawling as we fled outdoors.

Outside, the atmosphere was hot and covered in clearing black smoke. A mixed smell of smoke, dust and death lingered in the air. The earth’s convulsion and shaking had stopped but its impact was still very much felt and evident.

I took a slow 360 degree turn to discover that buildings that stood for centuries had crumbled into their foundations. Many homes and offices had collapsed, trapping people under tones of rubble; dead or alive, no one knows. My neighborhood was now an impression of a war zone. Not far from where I stood, the earth had torn open, intensive heat and smoke proceeded out of it. The wailing of infants, cries of women and pain filled shout of men could be heard all over.

On the other side of the tear, a two storey building of magnificent size was reduced to dust, mere sticks and blocks. From where I stood, I saw my neighbors struggling to dig out some of the occupants with bare hands. It was a homeless task as all they pulled out were mangled and dusty corpses. The more lifeless corpses they dug out, the louder the cries and more intense the screams.

Moments after; a strange calm wind that swept through the street, picking up papers and every other material of light weight. The wind washes over me and left a paper at my feet.

“What could be on the paper?” I wondered. “Could it be a sign from above, from God? Way out of this unending nightmare?” to unravel the mystery, I stoop low and turned the paper and was shocked to the bone to discover it was the same picture of my father that had fallen from the wall a while back.

In that instant, it occurred to me that I was the only one outside. I swiftly took another 360 degree turn, this time keenly in search of my dear father.

“Where could he be? Where had he gone to? Did he even make it out alive? I questioned myself as panic drill into my heart.

“Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!” I screamed as I slowly walked back to our house. Just few steps from the broken door, I suddenly heard a terrible rumble from deep in the belly of the earth like it was hungry for more destruction. All these did was struck fear into my heart, sent chills down my spine and soon my skin crawled with goose bumps.

This was followed by a loud dragging sound, like a metallic train applied brakes as the house I once called home slowly toppled into the open mouth of the evil earth. All I could do was stare emptily. I wanted to shout but my words fail me. Tried to cry but tears won’t come. Prayed my heart stop beating but it continued pounding in my chest. I just wanted to see any of my family members alive.

“Where was everyone? Am I the only one that made it out alive?” I questioned myself with my eyes closed as I began to feel something cold on my face and a familiar scent evident in the air. Gradually I opened my eyes to see the familiar wallpaper of our Lord Jesus on the wall of my room. Instantly, I knew I was in my bed and Cooky my dog licking my face.

“Thanks my love” I told her, have never been happier to have her wake me up. I quickly asked her out of my room, promising to let her back in once am done tackling this strange dream.

Continue reading here

http://nwafada.com/2019/03/07/the-earthquake/

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CHAPTER 1
The room was silent, the beautiful break of dawn had started to find its way into this well-appointed feminine bedroom where everything appeared alluring; from the bedclothes to the wardrobe, the curtains to the wall, all pinkish. The setting fitted into an entrapment for any man set for a romantic voyage. It was not difficult to tell that the occupant of this room loved pink. On the cozy bed, laid asleep, two half naked figures which looked exhausted from a romance marathon before falling asleep. Though the air condition was not on, the room was impressively cold. Earlier, when it was on, it was frigid and it wicked away the heats on their bodies fast after the blood in their veins got heated to warmness and left them sweating as they engaged in an intense exercise only them knew about; and as they cuddled, it penetrated their skin, chilling their blood, sinking into the marrow of their bones like wet concrete and it was then the male figure switched it off before they finally embraced sleep. These two figures were too good to look upon, too appealing not to give attention. The appearance of these opposite sexes was unmatched by any two souls in a romantic entanglement.

The male figure, Mike, turned at once, woke up from sleep, picked up his wristwatch from the headboard and he checked the time. “Oops, past seven already,” he muttered, followed by stretching and yawning. He removed the bedspread which covered from waist to the heels, then gently removed his female counterpart’s hand which rested on his smooth hairless chest. He reached for his clothes on the floor, hurried to dress up as he now sat on the bed. Shortly, Soma turned around, facing up, scrabbled about for Mike but did not feel his body on the bed. It was then she reluctantly opened her eyes, blinked them a few times, pandiculated and then turned to behold his presence.

“Hey Mike,” she said, “You’re up already! Good morning. What are you doing?”

“I’m leaving,” he replied while backing her. “I have a flight to catch back to Lagos by nine and I need to hurry to my hotel room before time.” Then he turned to her, “I guess you have gotten what you desired, three nights of sexual exploits! You got me into cheating on my wife for three whole nights, nonstop. Well, I guess I will never see you again because I’d never want a repeat of this nonsense ever again in my life,” he concluded.

His words disappointed her so. Though she had seduced him the first night, she definitely didn’t coerce him into continuing the so mentioned ‘sexual exploits’ for the following two nights. He knew it too. He only wanted to get over it and, surely, he did. Then she sat up.

“Nonsense?” she queried. “You call what we had these past three nights nonsense?” She continued with a slight head tilt, lowered eyebrows and squinted eyes, “I fell in love with you those two nights we met. Do you think I did what I did to get you out of prison just like that? I loved you Mike. I fell in love with you at first sight and I still do. The fact that you’re now married still doesn’t change anything,” she ended in a tone which lacked discountenance and her utterances, vehement.

He gave her a stern look which bore in it, a warning which could interpret as “You must be out of your mind.” In an attempt to calm him down, she moved closer to him, placed her hands on his shoulder.

“I love you Mike,” she said emphatically, with a low voice.

He rebuffed with a flushed face and patchy red blotches, pushing her hands off. Those words had only come for the first time when she moaned them, as they made love, the first night that heralded the so called ‘three nights of sexual exploit’. For the past many months ago when fate crossed their paths and same fate dispersed them, she never had the opportunity or privilege to cross paths with Mike again and utter those words which had remained planted in her soul. But when they finally did cross paths again, same fate hadn’t helped matters. As they made love that night, passionately and intensely, she moaned those words from the deepest of her heart and Mike paid no attention to them. Perhaps, he thought, they were uttered out of ecstasy.

“Stop it! Stop it Soma!” he ordered. “It ends here. Let whatever love you claim you have for me end right here. I’m married and my wife and I have done the best we can do for you by giving you this good job in her father’s company. Don’t be ungrateful,” he stamped. “I’m leaving. Enjoy the rest of your day.” He stood up to walk away.

“Oh you think because you and your wife gave me this good job, that it can wipe away the love I have for you?” she countered. “No Mike. It’s not my fault. I can’t help this feeling. Anyways, I have it all figured out.”

That struck Mike that he turned sharply toward her. Yes, she sure had gotten him where she desired.

“Yes I do.” She continued, “I’m returning to Lagos soon because I have applied for a Master’s Degree Program at UNILAG to continue from where I stopped in the UK. I will email your wife and explain to her so she can transfer me. I am sure she will have no reservation to this. That way nothing will stop me from continuing this that we have started here because, Mike, if I can’t have all, I desire to have more of you.”

Soma had fallen wildly in love with Mike and she couldn’t help it. She knew love was not a hot-house flower, but a wild plant born out of a wet night, born in an hour of sunshine; sprung from wild seed, blown along the road by a wild wind. It was a wild plant that, when it blossomed by chance, within the hedge of gardens, was called a flower; but was a weed when it blossomed outside the garden. Whether flower or weed, the scent and colour would always be wild! She could differentiate love from infatuation and she knew she had been in love with Mike long ago, before the first night of their exploits. All she desired was to be loved in return. She asked for nothing further and there was no other pearl to be found in the dark folds of life. All she ever wanted was Mike for her and her for him.

Read whole novella here

https://nwafada.com/2019/02/01/the-other-side-of-life-2/

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A life in Mars meant one thing to Ofonime; a whole new world. At least that’s what she thought. Eleven years before now, she was happily in love with Ime, had a job and was content with staying with her mum, dad and younger brother in high hopes of moving in to live with Ime someday. But that was not to be. One morning, scientists were everywhere on CNN, BBC, ALJAZEERA, AIT, NTA, proclaiming to the world that earth’s immune system is getting weaker and weaker as the deforestation, forest fires, pollution rates gets higher, and if care is not taken, it would be less habitable to live in.

Nobody took notice of it. Everyone seemed content living on earth and dying with it. Nobody was prepared to go anywhere. So when one nameless weird looking substance hit earth barely few months ago, nobody except the scientists seemed to mind.

Lives, businesses, trips kept on booming until people began to die like chickens, dropping a day after the other. Earth was gradually turning to a massive cemetery. Thankfully, the ever ready scientists were ten steps ahead. Spaceships were sent to countries to pick up living souls and transport them to Mars. The dying was not allowed to tag along lest they transfer the flu to the living. Ofonime wanted to be among the dead.

Sacked for failing to meet her target of three million naira a month, she couldn’t bring herself to see any light at the tunnel. With her dream job gone, she was despondent, hopeless and broken. She simply wanted to die. Her father however, had a different opinion. He literally carried her on his shoulder to his car. Now, five months and two weeks have passed and nothing has changed. She still felt empty. She had cried till her eyes became sore and could cry no more. Southern Mars was beautiful (that’s where Nigerians and the rest of Africans stayed). It was sandy and filled with good air. She on the other hand felt ugly, stoned and short of air. Ugly because her mum never failed to remind her by implication that she was 30 years old and yet to befriend another, stoned because she couldn’t feel anything and short of air because she just wanted to die and leave the world totally. She left the house when she couldn’t stand her mum’s mumblings no longer.

“Ofonime, I’m talking to you and you’re walking away. Will you come back here my friend?” her mum had shouted.

She paid no attention and walked on, venturing a little bit far from home. When her legs became faint and could walk no more, she sat behind a tent, facing another. Several queues line up at its front and Ofonime immediately knew the queue was for food and water.

The Martian soil was still not safe for planting (else her mum would have started planting right away – it was as if she was born with an innate desire to plant wherever she goes), so the scientist had made provisions for green houses in each regions long before now so there was excess food and water as well. Nobody complained and everyone was content. As she watched, a small girl of not more than ten years was pushed out of the queue by a much older person who had just arrived. Since she was a bit far, she couldn’t tell if it was an elderly person or a young one. The people on that queue spoke at the same time but none took a step to bring the girl back in line. The girl stood and stared.

Read more here
https://nwafada.com/2019/02/19/a-walk-on-mars/