Ohibenemma's Posts
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 Politics › Re: Implosion Looms In PDP by Ohibenemma(m): 6:58pm On Feb 15, 2021 |
Speculations upon speculations equals speculations... |
| Politics › Re: DG-WTO: President Buhari, Atiku Abubakar, Others Congratulate Okonjo-Iweala by Ohibenemma(m): 6:54pm On Feb 15, 2021 |
Congratulations to our own Madam Ngo'... I always knew she will make us proud 'someday'. This is another reflection of the world-class talent pool Goodluck Jonathan surrounded himself with. But Bubu? It is well... |
| Travel › Re: United Nigeria Airlines To BeginOperation On Friday by Ohibenemma(m): 9:40pm On Feb 11, 2021 |
Good 1 Like |
| Sports › Re: Emirates FA Cup: Iheanacho Thrilled To Score Late Winner Vs Brighton by Ohibenemma(m): 2:50pm On Feb 11, 2021 |
Good for him; even better it ain't a penalty kick... 2 Likes |
| Politics › Re: Army: We Are Now Ready For Criticisms From Nigerians by Ohibenemma(m): 2:42pm On Feb 11, 2021 |
Are you really ready for criticism? For I don't understand this tactics of calling for criticism, yet telling us HOW TO CRITICISE... If your criticism doesn't BOOST THE MORALE of the troops, you may just be on your own (OYO). |
| Politics › Re: Haruna Musa Mota Arrested After Exposing Governor Masari's Payment To Bandits by Ohibenemma(m): 5:20pm On Feb 08, 2021 |
Na so |
| Politics › Re: Police Arrest Ogun Resident For Attacks On Fulanis by Ohibenemma(m): 4:14pm On Feb 06, 2021 |
This is the height of nepotism! It is simply appalling how one minute ethnic grouping, majorly illiterate and uncultured, can strangulate a whole nation to this extent. This Police will suddenly become toothless when the herdsmen attack the Yoruba farmers. One day, bushmeat go catch the hunter is no longer a wish o 5 Likes 1 Share |
| Politics › Re: Call Lai Mohammed To Order - Suleiman Ajadi Urges Buhari by Ohibenemma(m): 4:04pm On Feb 06, 2021 |
Hmmm! There's something about power; how quickly it tends to corrupt the holder. Especially those that will tell you "I don't like This liar depicts such meekness that you will easily mistake him for a gentleman. |
| Politics › Re: Lagos Government To Phase Out Yellow Buses by Ohibenemma(m): 8:52am On Feb 05, 2021 |
When anything comes repeatedly over a period of time without the accompanying action, it becomes boring, irrelevant, irritating. Unfortunately, this Apapa gridlock issue has become so over time. We want to see implementation, not vain repetitions of intent... 9 Likes 1 Share |
| Politics › Re: Abdulkadir Kure Son, Umar Sues Mother, Siblings Over Late Father’s Property by Ohibenemma(m): 7:58pm On Feb 03, 2021 |
I honestly thought I had something to say, but I realise now that there's NOTHING to add to the already stated views... But who knows the FULL story as the report up there ain't in the least complete. |
| Celebrities › Re: Fans Celebrate BBNaija's Nengi, Treat Her Like A Queen During Her Meet & Greet by Ohibenemma(m): 11:59am On Nov 30, 2020*. Modified: 12:44pm On Nov 30, 2020 |
Maybe someone needs to explain the concept of becoming a celebrity to me. Musicians, in their little way, make effort to produce music that produces a euphoric effect on some listeners... From doing this constantly, they may be celebrated and thus become celebrities. Pastors preach the WORD, in addition to revelational gifts which excite, comfort and inspire their congregations. Thus they become celebrities. Philanthropists, through their benevolent acts, affect positively the lives of many around them...thus becoming celebrities. Writers, Motivational speakers, Actors and Actresses, Etc. All add some value which people may appreciate. But, how does a girl with hardly any visible content, become a celebrity after 90 boring days on television? Even to the extent of amassing fawning fans organising meet and greets upandan  10 Likes |
| Literature › Re: Deception - A Short Story by Ohibenemma(op): 7:27am On Nov 06, 2020 |
The story continues... The worship session was now frenzied. Some persons were not only swaying, but also shedding tears. Many were on their knees and I could see two persons rolling on the floor. To my disappointment, one of them was Magdalene. She was making a mess of her uniform, her beautiful choir uniform. Why her? I asked myself, fuming within. I had brought my camera, hoping to convince her to pose for one or two shots with me, but now… Was she so shameless? The church was almost filled to capacity, and she could afford to start rolling on the floor – in front of everyone! I hissed in disgust. No spirit, I reckoned in my mind, could make me lie on the floor. Not in front of such a large congregation. Then, just as I was on the brink of honourably exiting the hostile gathering, they brought the worship session to a close. This time, a guy walked out to take the place of the lady who had been leading. He smiled proudly, running his eyes across the congregation. What was it with this people and pride? I asked myself. ‘Tell your neighbour it’s time to praise the Lord,’ he boomed, his voice deep and well groomed. I felt some envy. A guy walked up to me and did as the song leader had instructed. I muttered some gibberish in response. ‘If your neighbour ain’t clear and sure enough, move to someone else and make the declaration…’ I noticed that even the pastors were moving obediently. Self-deceit – that was my impression of the whole scenario. Short... But more comes later... Please visit our blog @ goldentouchcorner..com |
| Literature › Re: Deception - A Short Story by Ohibenemma(op): 3:48pm On Oct 15, 2020 |
I nodded in agreement, though I didn’t quite get her point. ‘Please, elaborate.’ I said, remembering that she would be studying political science. ‘Please, there’s no time for that. Most times we waste precious time starting what we can’t finish. It could be due to fear or just impatience, but we end up raising resistant strongholds, only to abandon them at the brink of accomplishment.’ She looked at my face and, seeing the bewilderment there, added with a smile: ‘Science student, go and read up the policy of passive resistance as applied by Gandhi and Mandela.’ I wasn’t going to take up the advice, I knew already. We were now by the roadside. I cleared my throat, aware of the rising tempo of my heartbeats. ‘Magdalene, when next would we be seeing?’ ‘I don’t know,’ she replied indifferently. ‘Maybe when we get back to school.’ ‘When will that be?’ I asked, unhappy at her attitude. She was already proving herself a hard nut. I wasn’t one to give in easily. ‘I think that should be about two weeks hence.’ ‘I can’t bear that,’ I blurted out, ‘spare me the torture.’ She laughed and fixed me an intent stare. ‘I know, if asked, you would claim to have fallen in love with me, but…that’s simply untrue…’ ‘Why would you say so?’ I demanded, making no attempt to deny her charge. Her response was a ringing laugh. ‘Okay, can I have your number?’ ‘I don’t think so,’ she replied and clutched her phone tighter. Did she think I would attempt to snatch it from her? ‘Why?’ I asked, my voice a mixture of anger and emotions. ‘Why are you acting like we are strangers?’ ‘Well, let me be frank; I don’t give out my number anyhow. I am very sorry about that.’ ‘But you gave your number to the guy who called you earlier on,’ I accused, my voice surprisingly hoarse. I didn’t know why I was losing my cool. ‘He’s my brother in Christ,’ she said curtly. ‘And I am your enemy in Christ?’ My question only drew more laughter from her. I watched with some disgust, but was determined to follow through with my plans. ‘Okay, let’s have it this way, bro,’ she quipped, ‘I will give you my number after our church service on Sunday. Will you be there?’ The proposal sounded good. It sounded easy but equally challenging. I knew she was giving me that condition because of my earlier confession about not attending any church. I hadn’t stepped my feet in any church for about ten years! I thought it over for some seconds before replying in the affirmative. She gave me directions on how to locate the address and flagged down a cab. Just as the cab moved away with her, my phone rang. It was Sonia, one of my girlfriends. The call had come at just the right time, I noted with relief. She would have been a killjoy had her call come through a minute earlier. I thumbed the answer key and lifted the phone to my ear. Get ahead @ www.goldentouchcorner..com |
| Romance › Re: Smelly Vagina - Some Other Causes? by Ohibenemma(m): 12:00am On Oct 14, 2020 |
observer88:I see such threads and I laugh. I have encountered cases of very neat ladies who have this problem and would never believe it the first time should anyone tell them they smelt badly down there. I know of a guy who had slept with this girl twice with a condom before discovering the foul smell the third time, which he did unprotected. He was complaining without knowing he was a carrier too. She was a very neat person, but sexually active and had contracted it from her last boyfriend. She'd never have known had she not met this new guy four months later. Sometimes, the guy is the carrier, only to go accusing every lady about it. |
| Literature › Re: Deception - A Short Story by Ohibenemma(op): 11:08pm On Oct 08, 2020 |
Sorry for the delay... Issues called and I had to answer... ‘Hello, good afternoon,’ she greeted the person at the other end. The caller was enquiring about her whereabouts, how the journey was going and what time she hoped to get home. These I deduced from the replies she gave. From their tone, I knew it was a guy and I felt jealousy stir within me. ‘Who was that?’ I asked when they had ended their conversation. ‘A friend,’ she replied, smiling dreamily. ‘I met him during registrations – a very funny guy.’ ‘Okay,’ I said and looked away. After some seconds, I turned to look at her and she was still wearing that faraway dreamy smile. ‘What’s getting you so excited, suddenly?’ I asked. ‘You won’t get it,’ she replied. ‘So, I won’t bother telling you.’ ‘Okay, you may suit yourself,’ I said civilly. I was losing control of my emotions. I knew I was, but couldn’t help it. I wasn’t a novice anymore when it came to the womenfolk. Due to my social activities, I was constantly exposed to them, and I had indulged in quite a number of flings with them. I had two steady girlfriends, each suspecting the other of having an affair with me, but my sleek tongue and firm self-control had always ensured that their suspicions never got confirmed. And now, I was falling in love with my childhood friend… Was it really love, I asked myself, or just lust. It could be mere jealousy, but why was I being jealous in the first place? ‘Why are you being dramatic?’ She suddenly asked, catching me unawares. ‘What…? Am I?’ I stuttered, composing myself. ‘Yes, you are,’ she boldly insisted. ‘You are acting like an insecure boyfriend. Is there any problem?’ ‘Yes…and no,’ I replied, then smiled mischievously. ‘You won’t get it, so I won’t bother telling you.’ I used the exact words she had earlier used. ‘If you insist,’ she said and started playing with her phone. I wanted to apologize but decided against it. I didn’t want to appear too weak – not to the little Magdalene Okegbu of those days. The driver brought the car to a halt when we got to the first park in the city and announced to us that he won’t be going beyond that point. Some passengers angrily exchanged words with him, but it didn’t change the situation. I would have joined in hurling invectives at him, but for Magdalene's presence. And she he was already removing her luggage from the boot, which the driver had first opened, even before opening the doors! ‘But you know the driver isn’t right,’ I told her as I removed mine too. ‘He is only taking us for a ride.’ I tried unsuccessfully to hide the bitterness in my voice. ‘Arguing with him won’t change the situation,’ she said in a light tone, ‘especially when decisive action won’t be taken.’ I nodded in agreement, though I didn’t quite get her point. ‘Please, elaborate.’ I said, remembering that she would be studying political science. To be continued... Get ahead @ www.goldentouchcorner..com Subscribe, Read and drop your comments too Thanks... |
| Politics › Re: Obaseki/shuaibu - Now That The Battle Is Over by Ohibenemma(op): 11:09am On Oct 01, 2020 |
Biofil84:It really was enjoyable... Ondo doesn't seem to be generating so much excitement yet 1 Like |
| Politics › Re: Obaseki/shuaibu - Now That The Battle Is Over by Ohibenemma(op): 11:08am On Oct 01, 2020 |
Austino50:This battle appears over, BUT let's keep our fingers crossed 1 Like |
| Politics › Re: Obaseki/shuaibu - Now That The Battle Is Over by Ohibenemma(op): 7:38am On Sep 26, 2020 |
DoctorMugu:Lemme join the voices to ask, DocMugu, wetin wao? observer88:Ogbanne, I was told, means it is complete. Ragnnar: |
| Politics › Re: Obaseki/shuaibu - Now That The Battle Is Over by Ohibenemma(op): 10:18pm On Sep 22, 2020 |
observer88:Yes o! Oshiomhole turned an election that used have been based on performance stats to issues about undue godfatherly influence. #EdoNoBeLagos had to become the campaign slogan. |
| Politics › Obaseki/shuaibu - Now That The Battle Is Over by Ohibenemma(op): 1:37pm On Sep 22, 2020 |
The Edo gubernatorial election was, no doubt, a victory for the masses. Does this mean the parties didn’t do what they are best at, politicking? Nay! They did as much as they could, but na God win laslas. 2016 was expensive, but the APC even upped the ante this time. They ensured PDP would stand no chance in the spending department with Ankaras and N5000 wads exchanging hands like worthless paper. Naija get money o! Though not half as aggressive as the opposing party, the PDP were no saints either. Maybe this was so because there was no Federal Money available; maybe because they feared Federal Power could upturn things even if they spent waywardly and foolishly. The people were wiser this time. Since politicians now save for elections rather than fix and construct new roads; since money that could have been better spent on recruiting and paying teachers, health workers and other vital professionals’ salaries are now expended on glamorous campaigns, the people decided to attend campaigns across board. In fact, while some parties were boasting of massive figures in their campaign grounds and posting pictures to that effect all over the web, the people rejoiced at the crispy wads entering their pockets. But they had a clear mission at hand: #NotoGodfatherism. And they were helped at achieving this. The embarrassing visa ban issued on some Nigerian political gladiators by the USA couldn’t have come at a better time. This move, though decried by the Federal Government, laid it out in clear terms that her previous hypocritical oratory on standing for free and fair elections wasn’t deceiving EVERYONE anymore. The US was watching, The UK was watching and even the EU was too. They were forced to sit up this time before the names will be updated. However, some independent videos showed that the people couldn’t rely on the institutions alone to defend their suffrage. They sometimes had to clamp down on desperate elements sponsored by desperate gladiators themselves. Funny enough, most of those videos pointed the accusing finger at ONE party. Having said all of these, even with pending litigations underway, the victory though for the people, is anchored upon the duo of Godwin Obaseki and Philip Shaibu. While celebrations are in order, the people didn’t vote them in to celebrate, they were voted in to work. This time to work is now. There are issues which can’t be wished away. Godwin Obaseki must justify our trust in him THIS TIME. The schools are massively and shamefully understaffed. He could, and rightly so, claim the rot didn’t start under him (Oshiomhole employed no teachers in 8years too), but the people didn’t queue behind him to analyse the problems; they expect him to proffer solutions. The roads are bad, at least many are. He must do more than he did in his first term or the people will regret queuing to vote for him. Oshiomhole did well, by Edo standards, on the roads in his first term. But it appears like the condition of a couple of those roads had been worsening since his second term. Obaseki must identify these and work on them. Street lights and traffic lights should work too. Our hospitals are understaffed! We want to see a massive upgrade in health infrastructure. Let me specifically mention the Women and Children Hospital in Otuo. This is a low hanging fruit fixed about 58% by Lucky Igbinedion and abandoned, refixed by Oshiomhole to about 85%, only to be abandoned too, with Pally Iriase attracting some equipment from the Fed Government (constituency project), yet still abandoned. Obaseki can leave his footprints on the Sands of time by completing this and a couple of such. The power issue is another worrisome problem. BEDC has been a pain in the arse. This time, with the completion of multiple power plants across the state, the government must seek out alternative means of providing adequate power to her citizens. We are not unmindful of the giant strides taken in power infrastructure, the upgrading of the state Polytechnic, the College of Agriculture, the Ogbe stadium, the modular refineries and sanitising of governance and revenue generation, amongst others. But we desire to see much more. We want to see the results of more MOUs, we want to see more employment opportunities either from government or the private sector, we want to see MORE. And we want to see the RETIREMENT OF MORE GODFATHERS. NB + Congratulations, Godwin Obaseki/Philip Shuaibu; while Making Edo Great Again, don’t make the mistake of attempting to become godfathers yourselves. |
| Literature › Re: Deception - A Short Story by Ohibenemma(op): 4:50pm On Sep 18, 2020 |
The story continues... She was a new student and had been offered admission to study political science, she told me, and had only come to pay her admission fees. She was returning home to carry her belongings, having just secured a lodge that week. ‘That’s good,’ I told her. ‘You could have shared mine with me, though. I have a self-contained mini apartment to myself.’ I stared at her, awaiting her response. ‘Wow, that’s quite impressive,’ she replied, ‘but I can’t even imagine it.’ ‘Imagine what?’ I asked, but she demurred, shrugging her shoulders. ‘Please, I have a problem,’ she said next, suddenly changing the topic. ‘I visited one fellowship last Sunday, but their mode of worship was too drab for comfort.’ ‘Okay,’ I growled. If she needed any help concerning campus fellowships, she was onto the wrong person. ‘Which of the campus fellowships do you think is the best?’ She asked. I shook my head slowly. ‘None.’ She stared at my face as if to ascertain whether the statement had emanated from me. I frowned in response. ‘Did you just say none?’ She inquired. ‘Yea, Magdalene. The thing is I haven’t attended any so far.’ ‘Oh, so you don’t do campus fellowships? I was told the churches are even worse, with their services tailored towards meeting the needs of the elderly.’ ‘Magdalene, I don’t do churches either,’ I said gently but firmly, drawing another incredulous stare from her. I wondered why she was staring at me like that, but didn’t ask. She wasn’t done yet. ‘But your parents used to attend the Orthodox Church those days, right?’ ‘Yea and they still do – at least my dad does,’ I replied, bored of the topic. ‘So, how has life been all these years?’ I gave her an appreciative stare. ‘What are you looking at?’ She asked, looking away shyly. ‘At you, of course,’ I replied, maintaining the stare. Twice she tried to stare back, but always ended up looking away. ‘You are discomfiting me,’ she stated, finally returning my stare. ‘Your eyes are kinda scary.’ ‘If you think so,’ I growled, pretended to take offence and looked away. My eyes went to the speedometer, only to discover that it wasn’t working. After that, I tried to read the signboards in the little town we had just entered. Most of them were homemade, poorly shaped letterings, probably drawn with fingers dipped in paint. Some even had the paint overlapping and trailing down to the letterings below, making a mess of everything. I hated slapdashness, and it was written all over the town. I was about to make a remark to that effect when I remembered that I was supposed to be annoyed. I swallowed my words and hummed a tune. Five minutes later, Magdalene was yet to say a word. I had expected her to be, at least, concerned about my silence, but her thoughts seemed to be on other things. I swallowed my pride and was about to break the silence when her phone rang. To be continued... Get ahead @ www.goldentouchcorner..com |
| Literature › Re: Deception - A Short Story by Ohibenemma(op): 8:55am On Sep 12, 2020 |
I was travelling home from school two weeks back when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around to behold a faintly familiar female face. Her face curved into a shy smile. ‘Good afternoon, bro,’ she greeted after a moment’s hesitation. ‘Good afternoon, baby,’ I replied, wondering where I had met her before. She was beautiful, I noticed that instant. I had become an expert in assessing women; it took me only a few seconds to know whether a lady was worth my attention or not. I was about to ask where we had met before when she spoke. ‘Do you remember this face?’ I smiled and shook my head in the negative. ‘Though I know I’ve seen it somewhere before. Can you help me out?’ I was having two minds between saying the truth and lying, but opted for the former. She frowned slightly, almost confirming my reasons for wanting to lie to her: some people are usually turned off when you confessed to not knowing them. Then she smiled, ‘Do you remember the name, Magdalene Okegbu?’ The name struck a chord, but it took another five seconds to register. So the little girl had grown so big…and so beautiful, I thought, joining in the smile. I had been straining my neck to converse with her on the back seat, but didn’t actually feel any pain. Not yet. ‘Oh! Don’t tell me that that little girl is the one I’m beholding,’ I exclaimed, unmindful of other passengers, some of which were obviously eavesdropping on our conversation. ‘Who is a little girl,’ she playfully protested, making a face. ‘You, ma’am,’ I affirmed. ‘Thou, of course.’ She smiled coyly; ‘And that small boy is now quite grown up,’ she replied. ‘I take that as a compliment,’ I said as we both burst out laughing. It was then I tried to straighten my neck and was greeted by a very sharp pain. I gnashed my teeth as I inaudibly bore the pain. I had enjoyed the conversation thus far and still wanted more, despite the price my neck was paying. Luckily for me, just that moment, the man beside me asked the driver to stop, that he was getting off there. Magdalene quickly took his place, by my side. To be continued... Get ahead @ goldentouchcorner..com |
| Literature › Re: Deception - A Short Story by Ohibenemma(op): 7:07pm On Sep 08, 2020 |
Magdalene Okegbu it was. I had known her from the time we were kids, though I was a year older. Then, she was part of the neighbourhood playgroup of kids rolling on the sand, kicking at objects and playing hide and seek in the uncompleted buildings in our surroundings. She was one of the first kids to break away from the group. I was about nine years old then. Suddenly, it became rare to see her outdoors. The few times I saw her was when she was on her way to school or the church or in the company of her parents or elder brother who was then in the university. She had also assumed a kind of cockiness that made me dislike her. And she had also grown taller than me! Then, she was sent to a boarding school and I forgot about her. Shortly afterwards had my dad completed his house in another part of the city and we had parked out of the area. Though I still visited some of my old friends in that area after our exit, I never saw her again until I gained admission into the university. Mandiba University was a school where students took pride in the extent of their sociability, which was mostly in the extreme. I had stopped church many years back when some family problems had made my mum start a new church, leaving my dad in the old Orthodox Church we had always attended. That separation had given the kids the opportunity to make choices and my choice was to stop attending church altogether. In the place of church activities, I was deeply involved with the socials, and this lifestyle was only lent wings when I gained admission into the university. Within a year of my entry into the higher institution, I had already joined a string of social clubs. Hardly did two weekends go by without my being involved in a bash; it showed in my grades – I was barely managing to get by. I didn’t give too much thought to it; I hoped to sit up in my third year. To be continued... Join us @ www.goldentouchcorner..com |
| Literature › Re: Deception - A Short Story by Ohibenemma(op): 4:46pm On Sep 06, 2020 |
MAGDALENE shoots off here... From the roadside, I heard the baritone voice of Pastor Josiah Obazu as he led the congregation on some prayer points. I paid off the commercial motorcyclist who had just dropped me off and, after a glance at my belt and sparkling shoes, marched confidently to the church. I was accosted by an usher at the entrance. She was dressed in a red long-sleeved shirt which was firmly tucked in a white skirt. With a white tie around her neck and high heeled red shoes which illustrated her firm calves, she was every inch smart looking. ‘You are welcome, sir,’ she said in a sweet voice, flashing me a smile. ‘Please, follow me.’ ‘Thank you, ma’am,’ I replied and followed like a sheep to the slaughter. She led me to a seat in the front row, a row I had never sat in before. I didn’t argue with her; it was actually a vantage position for my plans. I sat down, closed my eyes, bowed my head and muttered some gibberish – feigning prayers. I opened my eyes and made sure to wear a big smile for effect as I sat up to see a lady from the choir move to the space between the congregation and the altar. She was holding a red capped microphone which she lifted to her lips with her left hand while raising the right above her head. She was dressed, like every other female member of the choir, in a black top and skirt with a gold coloured tie to match. The male choristers were in black suits with gold coloured shirts inside. They wore no ties. From my position, I could feel their egos emitting forth. The lady shut her eyes and made a face like one about to puke. The pianist was already playing an intro and the drummer beating an accompaniment when she broke into a song. That is why you are called Jehovah… That is why you are called Jehovah… What you say you will do… I smiled slyly as I watched the congregation join her – some swaying like palm trees left at the mercy of the wind. The drama seemed funny to me – I, who hadn’t been in any church for about ten years. So why the change of heart? To be continued |
| Literature › Re: Deception - A Short Story by Ohibenemma(op): 4:41pm On Sep 06, 2020 |
stancydg:Another MOG spotted! Thanks for commenting. Happy Sunday. |
| Literature › Re: Deception - A Short Story by Ohibenemma(op): 4:40pm On Sep 06, 2020 |
OlufemiWhit:Thank you. I hope you like Magdalene as much. |
| Literature › Re: Deception - A Short Story by Ohibenemma(op): 4:39pm On Sep 06, 2020 |
observer88:Thanks... Post Magdalene here too? I think it sounds like a good idea.  |
| Literature › Re: Deception - A Short Story by Ohibenemma(op): 4:37pm On Sep 06, 2020 |
Jerry59:Thanks |
| Literature › Re: Deception - A Short Story by Ohibenemma(op): 4:37pm On Sep 06, 2020 |
Odoogu:Hmmm, deep insight there! Of course, the foolishness of the foolish can be used to confound the wisdom of the wise.  |
| Literature › Re: Deception - A Short Story by Ohibenemma(op): 7:18pm On Aug 31, 2020 |
We have commenced a new story @ www.goldentouchcorner..com titled Magdalene. What happens when a young man decides to visit his romantic interest in her church ten years after he last attended one? It's funny, serious and even annoying... Check it out on the blog... |
| Literature › Re: Deception - A Short Story by Ohibenemma(op): 7:12pm On Aug 31, 2020 |
Please visit www.goldentouchcorner..com now. Read and drop your comments... And now, the final salvo for Deception It was later I got to hear the full story. Olaide Jegede, Rukayat’s dad had twice dreamt of his daughter being hacked down in unusual circumstances. In the first of these, he had been called to a morgue to confirm if he knew the corpse just brought in. There had been a huge gash on her forehead and several bruises on her body. Even her dress was torn in different places. The mortuary attendant was saying something about a car accident when he woke up. The second wasn’t much different, only that instead of a morgue, he had found Rukayat’s corpse in an open field with gashes all over her. He had kept these dreams to himself, but had intended revealing them to our leader the very day of my prophetic act. It was for this reason he had swallowed my sham hook line and sinker, it was for this reason he had requested a meeting with me the very next day. My dad had driven us to his beautiful bungalow the next weekend, and we had left the place about an hour after our arrival with two baskets of assorted groceries, placed in the car boot by Rukayat’s grateful mum. What was more, Olaide Jegede had offered to fund my education until my first degree. And Rukayat had already spent a couple of days in the church, inhaling those incenses, engaging in those tiring prayer sessions and chanting those ritualistic hallelujahs! You should understand my plight now; it is just like living a big lie, one I don’t see myself coming out of anytime soon. Maybe my mischief was for good after all, as Rukayat is still alive and strong; maybe the spirit had actually used me, unknown to me. But how can I stop my pulse racing whenever I stumble across Rukayat or any of her parents? How can I stop the discomfort into which I’m thrown whenever the subject of my spiritual exploit is broached in my presence? How no one, especially the leader, has discovered my fraud is something that beats me. The heavily bearded man sometimes regards me with this funny look that I start wondering if he hadn’t discovered my fraud, but the ensuing words soon reveal his actual impression – raw admiration. Aside Peter, virtually everyone treats me differently now. If they could be so easily misled by my act, could it be that the many claims of supernatural interventions out there are mere deceptions? Now I wonder if the problem is with the religion we received from the Whiteman, or could our version of it have become fake? |
| Literature › Re: Deception - A Short Story by Ohibenemma(op): 7:05pm On Aug 31, 2020 |
Hallelujah!” I repeated the hallelujah cue two more times before continuing the prophecy: “I don’t know how, but the spirit is emphatic that they had mounted barricades on all fronts for you. There are barricades everywhere – in your trips, school and all, but thank God our leader has been praying for you…” At this point, I knew I just had to give the prophecy a focal point. “Rukayat, the Lord will help you…” Her dad’s voice broke out, suddenly like he had bottled up the opinion for long: “I knew it! I knew it had to be her…” But he was hushed before he could complete his statement. What a miracle! What a hit! I had to do all I could not to break into a smile, a triumphant one. I had picked the right person and said the very right things so far. I knew I had stretched my luck to its limits, but it wasn’t going to be easy pulling off at that point. And where would have been the mischief in my soul had I done that? It had been done before, from what I had heard, so it wasn’t too difficult making my next statement. “He that dwelleth in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty,” I quoted from the ninety-first chapter of the Biblical book of Psalms, “you don’t have to be afraid, for in God’s presence there is liberty…” “Hallelujah!” That was her dad’s voice again. The restraints hadn’t worked after all. I continued: “Seven days they had proposed to finish you, but the Lord will prove himself by finishing them in seven days…” I was interrupted once again by multiple shouts of hallelujah. This provided me another opportunity to make some more convulsive jerks and twitch my face as I was set to deliver the final salvo. “That can be possible only in God’s presence, Rukayat. Seven days, you must remain in this church or the forces against you may have the final laugh. I am the Lord, I changeth not.” I let those final words out in a diminuendo, signalling the end of the prophecy. As if to be sure I was done, the leader allowed some seconds of silence before clearing his throat and shouting: “Hallelu…!” “Hallelujah!” The congregation responded with equal zeal. I thought I could hear Rukayat’s dad’s voice above the chorus. The leader repeated the cue two more times and the congregational response was successively louder. I was on cloud nine, and still wonder how I was able to keep on my feet as my legs had virtually gone rubbery. Continues shortly |
