₦airaland Forum

https://penastory.com/2016/04/20/hallucinations-ayanfe-dada/

So long gone; yet I keep thinking about you. Like a fire burn; I hear your voice deep inside of me. It’s like I am hallucinating, an illusion of my third world. The strength inspiring me, replication of our strong bond. If you could see me now, I know that you will be proud. The news of your sudden death gave me a melancholic sound. I miss you so much it feels like I’ve been crushed into the ground.

A vacuum’s been created but I want to close it now. I remember the times when we went to the rugby park laughing our ass out as Varney Pearl fell off the track. Those memorable moments are gone. Its fucking sad. All I do is wish you were here to spice up my lonely life. Jackie you’re the best thing that has ever happened in my life. A friendship even more intimate than what a family has. Although you’re gone your legacy will never die. Instead of mourning your death, I’ll rather celebrate your life. Celebrating new heights that you laid for me to reach in life. Your motivation inspires me which keeps me flying high.

I don’t think I’m ever going to be the same without you. I am even so lucky to have a guardian angel like you. That’s why I wrote this so I could dedicate it to you. My hommie this is your song. This is what I wanna sing to you. May your gentle soul rest in perfect peace. I love you.

Get updates on our posts by joining our BBM Channel via C00396EEB, if you are reading from mobile click: http://pin.bbm.com/C00396EEB

Source: PenAStory www.penastory.com

https://penastory.com/2016/04/20/ebo-yemoja-the-mermaids-sacrifice/

I stared stonily at her lifeless body which had finally floated to the surface. The waters had claimed her and it was not new. She was a sacrifice to Yemoja. She had not been the chosen one but she had been a sacrifice. The flowing waters were designed by patterned salty foams. The cold wind blew my shirt, making it billow like a parachute in the air. I could feel the sharp sand in my hands as I sat down and allowed the waters flow into my shorts.

It was early morn and the moon shone like its purpose was to entrance you in all its glory. It was a full moon. I didn’t know what I had been doing there. The waters had seem to call me to it. Was I suicidal? It was the white clothes that caught my attention. White bodice that showed the young swells of innocent breasts. Her face which had been stiffened by death was forever etched with sadness. A sadness of impending end. Deep in the contours of her face were the sad lines that had followed her till the end of her journey. Her arms lay limply by her side as if she had offered no struggle as she offered herself. There was something horrific about it but I stared on as if enthralled by the vision of death.

I could see her, stepping in, right leg first into the water. The water rising steadily as she went in deeper until all you could see was her slender neck and the plaited hair strangled with black ropes of rubber standing separately from each other. She turned and looked back at us where we stood by the safety of the shore, her face imploring and beseeching as if she was calling for one of us to save her. There was anguished hope on her face before she turned again to the waters, death. She plunged in this time as if she couldn’t wait to meet it and there wouldn’t have been anything anyone could do to save her. There was not a single ripple as she melted into the darkness of the murky waters.

That was when Labisi broke free of the crowd and ran towards the water. She was screaming my name to save the girl. Labisi my lover. She dived in trying to save her. How could she not know it was tradition? That the girl did not need saving. She had gone in self-will, an offering to Yemoja. Alas, Yemoja took not just one offering but two that day.

Get updates on our posts by joining our BBM Channel via C00396EEB, if you are reading from mobile click: http://pin.bbm.com/C00396EEB

Source: PenAStory www.penastory.com

https://penastory.com/2016/04/19/twenty-episode-13/

Excerpt From Episode 12:

“What was that about?” Grace asked as they came out of the front door?

‘Let’s wait till morning, I am tired tonight.” Gift snapped back. Grace said nothing, it was obvious Gift was still angry over the teasing and she wondered what big announcement it was her twin was about to make…

To read episode 12: Visit profile or www.penastory.com

Maryam and Chioma found themselves staying up till well past midnight cleaning the mess from the party but it was a good distraction for both of them as it helped to keep their mind busy and away from the meeting with Gift. Although Mrs. Ugochukwu implored them to leave the cleaning till morning, both girls refused to go to bed till the house was clean again and when they finished at last, they were both too tired to talk about anything. They went to Chioma’s room where they both fell into an exhausted sleep.

Before falling asleep, Chioma switched off the main bulb and switch on her reading lamp so that the soft light left the room dimly lit. She hated sleeping in the dark. Chioma slept with her mouth gaping slightly open, swimming in the unconsciousness of her dreams. For how long she had been asleep before she saw him, she did not know but soon she heard the door open softly and Matthew walked into the room. She stared at him with groggy eyes and rubbed her eyes together, trying to control the excitement she was feeling when he said her name gently and stretched out his hand. She took his extended palm and he pulled her from the bed. When he bent his head to kiss her, she kissed him back passionately before it hit her that Maryam had been awfully quiet. She turned from him and stared at the empty bed, “where’s Maryam?” Chioma asked.

“There’s no one Chi, it’s just us. You and me.” Matthew replied, fixing her with a look of tenderness that seemed to both console and pierce through her at the same time. Chioma quickly looked away and her eyes caught sight of a picture of the both of them fixed to a side of her wardrobe, it hadn’t always been there she thought. Matthew was pulling her down to sit on his laps now on the bed but she kept on looking intensely at the photograph. Then it hit her, it was the last photo they had taken together, a week before he died. She entangled herself from his hold and went to where the picture was placed, she was no longer the one standing beside Matthew. In the picture stood Grace or Gift, she couldn’t tell. Matthew’s hand encircled her waist and she turned to him impatiently, “wait,” her gaze returned to the photo and she could swear it was Grace with a smile on her face.

“Chi, it’s either of them,” she turned back to Matthew and he repeated his statement.

“But how…” the rest of question was caught off as his mouth closed over hers and Matthew dragged her to the bed with him. She landed on him and he flipped her over, towering over her, he laughed and began to undo the buttons of his shirt. She leaned forward and kissed him and her hand was just going to his fly when a loud noise woke her up.

Chioma jumped up with a start and saw Maryam staring at her with a frightened expression on her face. The noise had woken her up too. Another crashing sound came from the direction of the living room and they heard the sounds of tumblers and dishes breaking. The two ran out of the room and hurried towards the kitchen where the sound had been coming from. Before them was a sea of broken glass and china. All the dishes they had washed lay broken in pieces on the floor.

***

By 7am, Mrs. Ugochukwu was still in bed with David. The newly engaged couple after retiring to their room the previous evening had had a steamy sex session that had left them both exhausted and somehow they had both been dead to all the commotion. It wasn’t till nearly 9am that David finally came out of the bedroom. He greeted Chioma and Maryam who were sitting in the living room, “good morning ladies,” he said with a sardonic smile. Chioma made no response while Maryam waved at him as he went out of the door. ‘How pathetic,’ Chioma said.

Chioma was unsure whether to tell Maryam of the bizzare dream she had had about Matthew the night before and the issue of the puzzling photograph. After they had rushed to the kitchen, they had met the kitchen window. Maryam had been quick to dismiss it as the work of the wind as she wasn’t ready to think of any sinister possibility that could have cause a tray of dishes to come crashing to the ground. Chioma had not bothered arguing even though they both knew it had not rained and there was no sign of a heavy wind.

***

“Hmmm, my sister it was epic,” Mrs.Ugochukwu was saying on phone as she gossiped with Mrs. Beebs about last night’s sex with David. “He was like an animal.” Chioma who had come to her mother’s door heard the last part and cleared her throat to announce her presence.

“Let’s talk later,” Mrs. Ugochukwu said hurriedly into the phone and ended the call. Mrs. Ugochukwu knew that Chioma showed a disgust to most of her decisions when it came to David and she had come to accept that but she wasn’t going to give her daughter a reason to disrespect her. “Chi, Gift called. What’s wrong with your phone?” Not waiting for an answer she continued, “she said she was sorry about last night and you should forget about everything that they don’t matter. What is that about? Is everything okay?”

“Everything is just fine! We are okay.” Chioma snapped and turned on her heels, slamming the door behind her. Mrs. Ugochukwu frowned and stood up from the bed, following her daughter to her room,

“Okay, tell me, what’s going on with you girls?” Mrs. Ugochukwu said addressing Chioma and Maryam.

“I said nothing, Maryam let’s go,” Chioma snatched her bag from the dresser and beckoned to Maryam to follow her.

Source: PenAStory www.penastory.com

https://penastory.com/2016/04/18/chronicles-of-a-young-boy-blessing-ajagbe/

My family was never perfect but mother always made us project that we were. It was when I was eight years of age that I realized this. Before then, I always saw my family as the best family the universe could ever give me. Guess I was only being naive. Every Sunday mother made us sit together in church and no one dared to sit apart. Most of the time, she and father wore the same material of cloth to church to show everyone that even after seventeen years of marriage, they still loved each other. Mother made sure that she and father made donations to every church project even when they did not have enough money at the time. And we the children, followed our parents around like lost puppies and did whatever they asked us to do even when we did not want to. We were such a perfect family in the eye of the public that the Pastor often used us as example of a good Christian family for others to emulate.

Being the last child of three children, people often treated me like the child they thought I was. What could a boy of twelve possibly know? But I knew a lot, even things I wished I did not know. Things I wished I could erase from my adolescent mind. Like how father was having an affair with another woman.

It was a Saturday. Mother had gone to the market with sister and brother had gone out with his friends, leaving father and I all alone. Father and I were not best buddies but we got along just fine. When it came to parent-child relationship, mother and I were the IT thing. She understood me better like nobody else. Father was not the kind of man who stayed in the living room. He was mostly in his office reading the paper or working on his laptop. The only time he came to the living room was when he wanted to watch the news. To see him come to the living room and watch a movie with me that day was surprising. Little did I know that he was expecting someone.

The doorbell rang and he asked me to get the door which I did. Standing there was a tall dark skinned lady who looked like she was in her early twenties.

“You must be Chris,” she said. “Nice to finally meet you.”

I wondered how she knew my name since we had never met before. Father came over to the door and the two of them greeted each other. It was a casual greeting, but it felt like they only greeted each other that way because I was there.

“We have some business deal to discuss,” Father told me. “We will be in my office.”

She came in and I shut the door. As I went back to the movie I was watching, I was still wondering how she knew my name. Who was she to Father? Telling myself that it was none of my business, I concentrated on the movie. Few minutes later, I began to hear laughter coming from Father’s office. My curious mind did not let me rest as I wanted to know what was going on there. I went upstairs and slowly walked into Father’s office. Thankfully the door was slightly opened. I peeped and saw the lady sitting on Father’s lap, caressing him like she owned him. My blood began to boil with anger. How could Father do that to mother? She had done nothing but try to project a good image for the family and there he was spoiling it. Out of my anger, I opened the door and they broke free of each other’s embrace when they saw me.

“Chris, what are you doing here?” Father asked. I shot Father a death glare and stomped out of his office without saying a word. He waited a few minutes before coming to meet me in my room where I was.

“Your mother must not know about this?” I had no idea if that was a plea or a command. The way Father looked at me, I could tell that he was feeling guilty. What I could not tell was whether he was feeling guilty for being caught by his twelve year old son or because he realized that what he was doing was wrong.

Mother came home later that day and she and sister prepared pounded yam and vegetable soup. Father kept looking at me as we sat at the dinning, using his eyes to beg me not to say anything to mother. His constant begging was not what shut me up but because I did not want mother to get hurt. The poor woman did not deserve to be hurt like that. That day I lost every respect I had for father.

From that day father tried to be closer to me. He made sure that he often bought something new for me. Even mother began to get jealous about how close we had become. It hurt that she was oblivious about what was going on. Every day that I watched Father pretend to love my mother tore my heart into a thousand pieces. Something in me begged me to tell her but I ignored it. What she did not know could not hurt her, could it?

Months passed and I had not still told mother about father’s affair. He had told me that he was not seeing his mistress again but I knew he was.

It was when we came back from church one Sunday that Father’s affair got exposed. His mistress came to the house claiming she was carrying his baby. When mother heard this, she fainted instantly. Father rushed her to the hospital and my siblings and I did not agree to be left behind. As we sat in the hospital waiting for mother to wake up, I could not but blame myself. If I had told mother earlier, it would not have led to Father’s mistress getting pregnant. What if mother did not wake up from the shock? Father would definitely marry his mistress and she would become our step-mother. I shook the thoughts away. Mother would not die. At least not now. I prayed to God silently where I sat.

Please do not let mother die. I promise to be a better son if you spare her life.

Unfortunately, God did not answer my prayer. The doctor came to us and as in a formal voice told us that they tried all they could do. Immediately he said that, I knew what was coming next. Mother had passed away. The doctor said that she had died of a heart attack due to her high blood pressure. Sister began to scream, demanding to see mother but my brother held her and took her out of the hospital. I on the other hand could not scream or say a word as the tears rolled down my cheeks.

Just like that mother was gone. I would never get the chance to see her again. The rage coiled within me as I watched Father talking to the doctor. If he had not been having an affair, mother would still be alive. If he had not been having an affair, I would not have had anything to hide from mother. If there was anyone to blame for this it was him. At that moment the only thing I could think of was wasting his life the same way he wasted mother’s.

The ride back home was long and silent. No one uttered a single word. As I laid on my bed that night, I thought about how much effort mother had put in holding our family together. All of it was now a waste. Mother was a good fellow and did not deserve to die the way she did. If anyone needed to make things right it was me. Without thinking twice, I stood up from my bed and went to the kitchen to grab a knife. When I did, I went straight to Father’s room but he was not there. The only place he could be at this time of the night was his office so I went there. He did not notice my presence because the door of his office was left open and his eyes were closed. I watched as he kept drinking what I guessed was an alcoholic drink.

For a second I began to pity him. A second I said. The image of mother flashed through my mind and the pity left and brought a rush of anger. He finally noticed me and smiled a forced smile. Immediately fear took over him when he noticed the knife I was holding.

“W-w-what are you doing with that?” He asked, his voice trembling.

“You killed my mother”, I accused him. The tears started rolling down my cheeks again.

He stood up and walked up to me. He tried to collect the knife from him, but I pointed the object at him. A new being had possessed me and the only thing I could think of was driving that knife into father’s guilty heart.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized.

Hearing him say that made the anger in me boil more. Sorry. Like that was going to bring mother back.

“I’m sorry too,” I apologised and drove the knife into his heart. In that moment, I lost control of myself and began to stab him continuously. Every second he spent gapsing for breath made me feel good. When father finally gave up, my mind came back to its usual place. What had I done? Oh, no. I killed my father with my own hands. I looked at the blood stain on my hands not believing this had just happened.

“What have you done?” The voice of sister asked as she rushed to father’s lifeless body. Before I knew it, I was being handcuffed by a policeman and thrown inside a van. Sister had cried out for help and one of the neighbours called the Police. From that day on, I lost every bit of sanity in me. Every day as I sat in juvie, I would dream about how I killed my father.

The time flew fast and my siblings never bothered to check up on me. Not even once. I had no idea where they were or how they were fairing. There was only one person who never stopped coming to see me and that was Pastor. He would share some words of encouragement to me and pray with me anytime he came to visit.

It was Christmas and the first time I would ever celebrate it without my family. The Pastor came to visit me that day. He even brought some food for me. As usual he shared some words of encouragement to me and prayed with me. But this time before he left, he handed me a Bible as my Christmas gift. He then told me to read 2 Corinthians 5:17. As I sat in my cell, I contemplated whether to read it or not. I had never read the Bible on my own before. The only time I read the Bible was in church on Sunday. After giving much thought to it, I picked up the Bible and opened to the scripture he asked me to read. It said;

Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.

Even though the Bible was written in plain English, I found it difficult to comprehend what those words meant. Every day I would read that portion of the Bible and anticipate the Pastor’s next visit for him to explain to me what it meant. For weeks Pastor did not show up. I began to think maybe he was tired of visiting and had abandoned me too. It was after four weeks that Pastor showed up. The first question he asked was if I had read the scripture he asked me to and I told him that I had but did not understand what it meant. Pastor smiled and began to explain that portion of the Bible to me. He said the first step was for me to give my life to Christ. If I do, Christ would forgive all my sins and help me to forget all that had happened. He told me to open to Isaiah 1:18

Come now, let us reason together, saith the Lord: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as wool.

That day I gave my life to Christ and I felt this sudden peace within me. Few years later God did a miracle and I was released. Before that, my siblings came to visit me telling me that they had forgiven me for killing father.

Today, as I stand here talking to you beautiful people, I am now a husband, father, doctor and a writer. My first book Chronicles of a Young Boy, is a book that everyone should read. If God can help someone like me then he can help anyone. Thank you all for coming.

The audience stood up and applauded him as he went back to his seat.

Source: PenAStory www.penastory.com

https://penastory.com/2016/04/18/now-that-you-are-here-episode-seven-a-tale-of-deception-betrayal-and-murder/

Excerpt From Episode 6:

She looked like a fiery goddess with her eyes slightly glazed with passion and her head thrown to one side causing her hair to fall in a mess around her face. His hand found the hook of her bra and he unclasped it, sighing in pleasure as her breasts swung free. He had no time to think because her mouth regained possession of his and he was lost in a tide of passion.

To read episode 6: Visit profile or www.penastory.com



“You did what!” Anu screamed in surprise, springing up from the couch she had been lounging as she listened to Damilola recount her sexual experience with Muyiwa. Anu shook her head as if trying to dispel it of a fog and stared at Damilola incredulously. “This isn’t you at all babes. You came out of a relationship because your man was cheating and now you are sleeping with a dude that has a girl? A committed relationship for that matter! What the Bleep were you thinking?”

Damilola stared at Anu with a half-smile playing on her face, watching Anu rant was always a pleasure. It wasn’t like Anu was any saint but of course she liked to act the Miss Perfect and Damilola was in no mood to argue.

“Just look at yourself Dammy,” Anu continued, “you have misplaced priorities. Your focus should be on delivering the baby and moving on to other things and not shagging with the doctor. Can’t you see he is simply preying on your emotions? This is a game men play on vulnerable women who are too emotional like yourself.” Damilola’s laughter rang loud at Anu’s last statement.

“I am perfectly fine Anu, I can take care of myself. You should know I am no pushover and if this is a game, I think I need some excitement in my life. I have got nothing to lose after all, he is the one with a girl not me.” Damilola stood up and picked up her handbag, “I would be leaving now, I have an appointment with Muyiwa.” Giving her friend a quick hug, she hurried out of the house leaving Anu staring at her in exasperation.

***

“Halima said she will like to meet you one of these days Dammy, what do you think?” Damilola paused with the glass of water halfway to her mouth and stared at Muyiwa. They were having lunch at a favourite restaurant of hers that she usually came to when she was still with Gbade.

“You want me to meet your girlfriend? Do you think that is such a good idea Muyi?”

Muyiwa’s stare was even as he met her surprised eyes which were as round and large as a saucer, he could tell the news had clearly come as a shocker. Shrugging carelessly, he cocked his eyebrow questioningly, “why is it not a good idea? You are a very good friend of mine and Halima has heard me talk about you a lot of times she is dying to meet you. She is not one of those suspicious females who go around suspecting that their man is cheating just because he is talking to another lady. It’s about time you guys meet up in person.”

Anu’s early warning of games flashed through Damilola’s mind and her eyes narrowed into suspicious slits. Perhaps Anu was right and it was all a game to him. He sleeps with me and has the audacity to call me a friend, well if he thinks he is good at playing then I would show him I am good at winning, she fumed to herself silently. Smiling sweetly, Damilola gave him a cool stare and replied “it should be fun meeting your precious Halima, Doctor.” Standing up from her chair, she moved closer to him and whispered “but in the meantime, this patient needs some doctoring, would you attend to me please?”

***

Damilola writhed in pain as the blood seeped out of her pants and continued to stain her dress. Clutching her stomach, she groaned out aloud on the bed and struggled to grab her mobile phone. Something was wrong and she couldn’t tell what it was. She had suddenly felt a sharp pain in her belly when she was having her bath some minutes ago and had managed to make it to the bedroom just before the pain became too intense to bare. Now all she could see was the blood oozing out of her and as she rolled in pain, the tears flowed from her eyes freely. She screamed as another pang of pain tore through her. It was like her belly was on fire and her vision was beginning to blur. Am I dying? Is this what death feels like? She sobbed and finally managed to dial Muyiwa’s number. He picked up on the second ring.

“Muyiwa, help me. I am dying,” she managed to croak out.

“What is wrong, where are you?” his voice was frantic as she screamed again when another pang of pain hit her.

“I am hooo…hoo.hhome. Blood everywhere, I don’t want to die.” The last thing she heard before losing consciousness was his, “I am on my way love.”

When she came to, she was in a hospital bed and without seeing it, she knew there were tubes attached to her. She rolled her head to her right and met Anu’s concerned gaze. Her friend’s eyes were bloodshot, she had apparently been crying.

Damilola managed a feeble smile when she saw the relief on Anu’s face, “what happened Anu?” Anu took her hand and squeezed gently, “hush baby, hush. Just rest please. You gave us quite a scare. It’s nothing serious.”

The alarm went off in Damilola’s head as it hit her that she was in a hospital and she started up so suddenly that Anu reeled backwards with a startled expression. Damilola’s hand flew to her stomach and her voice was shaky, “my baby, tell me my baby is alright!” Her violent reaction drained her of the little energy she had and she dropped back on the bed weakly just as Muyiwa walked in. He had a patient’s file in his hand and he looked like he had been working all day. She could sense the sadness surrounding him and in a weak voice, she whispered, “the baby is gone isn’t it?” Muyiwa stared at her before nodding his head in affirmation. She closed her eyes and sobbed quietly.

Get updates on our post by joining our BBM Channel via C00396EEB, if you are reading from mobile click: http://pin.bbm.com/C00396EEB

Source : PenAStory www.penastory.com

https://penastory.com/2016/04/18/now-that-you-are-here-episode-seven-a-tale-of-deception-betrayal-and-murder/

Excerpt From Episode 6:

She looked like a fiery goddess with her eyes slightly glazed with passion and her head thrown to one side causing her hair to fall in a mess around her face. His hand found the hook of her bra and he unclasped it, sighing in pleasure as her breasts swung free. He had no time to think because her mouth regained possession of his and he was lost in a tide of passion.

To read episode 6: Visit profile or www.penastory.com



“You did what!” Anu screamed in surprise, springing up from the couch she had been lounging as she listened to Damilola recount her sexual experience with Muyiwa. Anu shook her head as if trying to dispel it of a fog and stared at Damilola incredulously. “This isn’t you at all babes. You came out of a relationship because your man was cheating and now you are sleeping with a dude that has a girl? A committed relationship for that matter! What the Bleep were you thinking?”

Damilola stared at Anu with a half-smile playing on her face, watching Anu rant was always a pleasure. It wasn’t like Anu was any saint but of course she liked to act the Miss Perfect and Damilola was in no mood to argue.

“Just look at yourself Dammy,” Anu continued, “you have misplaced priorities. Your focus should be on delivering the baby and moving on to other things and not shagging with the doctor. Can’t you see he is simply preying on your emotions? This is a game men play on vulnerable women who are too emotional like yourself.” Damilola’s laughter rang loud at Anu’s last statement.

“I am perfectly fine Anu, I can take care of myself. You should know I am no pushover and if this is a game, I think I need some excitement in my life. I have got nothing to lose after all, he is the one with a girl not me.” Damilola stood up and picked up her handbag, “I would be leaving now, I have an appointment with Muyiwa.” Giving her friend a quick hug, she hurried out of the house leaving Anu staring at her in exasperation.

***

“Halima said she will like to meet you one of these days Dammy, what do you think?” Damilola paused with the glass of water halfway to her mouth and stared at Muyiwa. They were having lunch at a favourite restaurant of hers that she usually came to when she was still with Gbade.

“You want me to meet your girlfriend? Do you think that is such a good idea Muyi?”

Muyiwa’s stare was even as he met her surprised eyes which were as round and large as a saucer, he could tell the news had clearly come as a shocker. Shrugging carelessly, he cocked his eyebrow questioningly, “why is it not a good idea? You are a very good friend of mine and Halima has heard me talk about you a lot of times she is dying to meet you. She is not one of those suspicious females who go around suspecting that their man is cheating just because he is talking to another lady. It’s about time you guys meet up in person.”

Anu’s early warning of games flashed through Damilola’s mind and her eyes narrowed into suspicious slits. Perhaps Anu was right and it was all a game to him. He sleeps with me and has the audacity to call me a friend, well if he thinks he is good at playing then I would show him I am good at winning, she fumed to herself silently. Smiling sweetly, Damilola gave him a cool stare and replied “it should be fun meeting your precious Halima, Doctor.” Standing up from her chair, she moved closer to him and whispered “but in the meantime, this patient needs some doctoring, would you attend to me please?”

***

Damilola writhed in pain as the blood seeped out of her pants and continued to stain her dress. Clutching her stomach, she groaned out aloud on the bed and struggled to grab her mobile phone. Something was wrong and she couldn’t tell what it was. She had suddenly felt a sharp pain in her belly when she was having her bath some minutes ago and had managed to make it to the bedroom just before the pain became too intense to bare. Now all she could see was the blood oozing out of her and as she rolled in pain, the tears flowed from her eyes freely. She screamed as another pang of pain tore through her. It was like her belly was on fire and her vision was beginning to blur. Am I dying? Is this what death feels like? She sobbed and finally managed to dial Muyiwa’s number. He picked up on the second ring.

“Muyiwa, help me. I am dying,” she managed to croak out.

“What is wrong, where are you?” his voice was frantic as she screamed again when another pang of pain hit her.

“I am hooo…hoo.hhome. Blood everywhere, I don’t want to die.” The last thing she heard before losing consciousness was his, “I am on my way love.”

When she came to, she was in a hospital bed and without seeing it, she knew there were tubes attached to her. She rolled her head to her right and met Anu’s concerned gaze. Her friend’s eyes were bloodshot, she had apparently been crying.

Damilola managed a feeble smile when she saw the relief on Anu’s face, “what happened Anu?” Anu took her hand and squeezed gently, “hush baby, hush. Just rest please. You gave us quite a scare. It’s nothing serious.”

The alarm went off in Damilola’s head as it hit her that she was in a hospital and she started up so suddenly that Anu reeled backwards with a startled expression. Damilola’s hand flew to her stomach and her voice was shaky, “my baby, tell me my baby is alright!” Her violent reaction drained her of the little energy she had and she dropped back on the bed weakly just as Muyiwa walked in. He had a patient’s file in his hand and he looked like he had been working all day. She could sense the sadness surrounding him and in a weak voice, she whispered, “the baby is gone isn’t it?” Muyiwa stared at her before nodding his head in affirmation. She closed her eyes and sobbed quietly.

Get updates on our post by joining our BBM Channel via C00396EEB, if you are reading from mobile click: http://pin.bbm.com/C00396EEB

Source : PenAStory www.penastory.com

https://penastory.com/2016/04/16/letters-to-my-daughter-kunbi-black/

A+003

Bolat Flats,

Ilaje, Bariga.

Rainy Day: 13:00hrs

My thoughts float around, unfathomable feelings that run through my spines like electrons passing through a thick wire. These feelings that won’t just go away. I have pondered on what a mess my life had become at this very time of the year. This time of the month of April. She would have been five years old now, all dressed up like a princess, the princess of my dreams; the very one I had always imagined.

April came with her coldness and rain. The drench of heaven washed away all the beauty and love and brought with it memories of a dark day; an unforgettable day. A day whose sky is iron grey in my imagination. A dinner with the goddess of love and beauty. Her love towards me and then the sudden resentment! I wish I could go back in time to as far back as the 5th century, right to the presence of this Greek goddess who deems it fit to punish me. I would present a gift before her, begging her mercy to relieve me of my pains and agony.

As the days go by and the sun hide its face from the moon, as the months turned hurriedly into years and the sun unleashed its wrathful glory on the souls of men, I began to find solace in words born out of the series of my thoughts. I am empty! For I have lost that one precious gift given to me by the creator who gives peace. Fate is a barrier in the lives of men; I always knew that I would end up doing that which have been predestined. I cannot therefore have back what I have lost, her.

Trapped in the distress of my room, the month of April brings to me the memory of a rose not given a chance to blossom- a young flower killed in its bud; my little angel – my daughter.

I am Kunbi Black, an On Air Personality/Entertainer.



***



A+003

Bolat Flats,

Ilaje, Bariga.

Rainy Day: 13:15hrs



Dear Daughter,

To be candid, we did not know so much, but something was certain and we were convinced that you saw us. You may be far but certainly not far from the echoes of our hearts, soiled in the deep melancholy of our emotions. I cannot explain how deep these emotions are, for they have clouded me so badly and you are the light I am drawn to. The last message I heard from Angel Michael was that you never stopped crying and nagging.

“They hate me, they lack love, their hearts are too dark, they never settled for the answers to their prayer, they are too self-centered.” I am sure you will never realize how hard these words strike our hearts. Heaven knows I and your mum love you like our eyes.

My angel, you know life is not one, it is in between. We have wished and still wish for things that we can never get. How I wish life had stepped out of her comfort zone and made her way ahead of us. I wish your mum wasn’t sixteen then. Even now we wonder if it would have been right to have set you free on this path filled with thorns and thistles. We were not free to set you free. The land held us captives and lambs for the altar of unpaid wages. I couldn’t have stood the sight of watching you starve. We loved you so much to want to rip you from your angelic stewards, and your mansion on the streets of gold to our abode, where you have to struggle for your life.

For Christ sake child, we were nothing but innocent students with a pack of werewolves looking up to us as their Alpha and the way out of their struggles. They had all sealed their love and lust in contributions for our first class certificates and honourable white collar jobs. My dear, you in the picture then was like throwing a stone on their glass heart.

My adorable daughter, in life certain rules have to be followed, we ran ahead of those rules and we are back right where we belong. I grieve like you every day when I think of you but things were not just right for a safe landing: we loved you and still love you. We want you, cannot hurt you, and desperately look forward to watching you sleep on your cradle bed.

Yours like None,

Dad.



***

Boys Quarters,

Ikoyi, Lagos

Sunny Day: Evening



Dear Daughter,

What eyes have seen, the mouth can’t tell it all. It promised to be the best teenage bash in town. Invitation cards were flying everywhere in the neighborhood painting it all Da-costa. Despite the wild publicity, my angel, we needed no soothsayer to foresee that we were only gate crashers (owanbes), because our status was not equivalent to those who got invitations.

Segun Da-costa’s father was one of the biggest business moguls of that time, and we knew him based on our status; our parents were working for his parents. We were never allowed to make friends with Segun and his siblings even when they came knocking on our doors seeking friendship.

“Femi, please can you teach me how to play tennis? My dad just got me the table and kits but I have no one to teach me or play with.” He said once but my mum was quick in responding on my behalf.

“Oga Segun, Femi has a lot of assignment and would not be done till seven.” I knew my mum clearly wanted the boundary. Segun was so down to earth and I wanted to attend his party. After all, it was still in the same compound. Your mum found it easy to win the heart of her father, the chauffeur, after pleading for thirty minutes. My mum, the cook, on the other, was head-strong, and I had to plead for two weeks before she finally gave in.

Ifeanyi, the love of my life (your mum) and I sat at one corner as we munched the plate of rice and chicken in front us. The chicken was probably the largest piece I had ever had to myself. As I battled with the chicken, my face went up and then I realized your mum had long since stopped eating. She sat, just staring into space- I could tell what she was thinking. She was most definitely asking herself the same question I had asked myself earlier, “what on earth are we doing here?”

Can you blame her or should I say us? The difference was crystal clear. Despite the fact that we wore our best clothes, we still looked odd beside the other rich kids, definitely out of place as if the poor can never look like the rich. They all looked like kids who didn’t know what it meant to soak ‘garri’ before bed or go to bed hoping to get served a better meal in dreamland.

As the party grew more intense, the boys took their female partners to the dance floor and they all looked great. Initially, Ifeanyi and I were reluctant to dance but the eyes upon us seemed to question our reluctance, thus we had no other option but to dance.

Soon enough, your mum complained of a slight headache and body pain. I assumed it was because she was unaccustomed to this sort of life; parties and all. We decided to walk back to our part of the mansion; the boys-quarters, so she could rest. Now my daughter, this part shouldn’t have happened in our twist, if your maternal Grandpa had remembered to drop his keys before driving Segun’s dad out on a business meeting. Your mum seemed worn-out now and was running a temperature.

“Femi, I can’t stay outside, I feel like my head is going to blow,” she said.

We had just walked into the room I shared with my mum when she made that statement. Soon we began talking, lost in a reverie of intimacy. Our walls of self-control of many years fell apart. It was almost six weeks before your mum noticed certain changes. She was scared, and I was sinking in the same boat. We were both lost at sea, but we knew our parents’ finding out was not just an option. We but wanted a solution, and I found it first, I found it in Segun.

Yours like None

Dad.



***

A+003

Bolat Flats,

Ilaje, Bariga.

Rainy Day: 14:00hrs



Dear Daughter,

I wept whenever your mum did, I tried to console her. I took the blame like I had raped her. We had never meant it that way; we wanted you but it was not attainable. “Femi, you suppose don smart pass all dis one na. At nineteen, shey na only book you sabi ni? Why you go do flesh to flesh? No tell me say you be touch and grab!” Segun had retorted in a mocking laugh. I was less concerned about his mockery. What mattered most to me was that he said their family doctor could help based on his recommendation.

I lost count of days, when I saw you looking adorable, yet unhappy. Daily you asked me in my dream: “Why? Why did I think I was smart? Why did I think I had right to shut you out even before your first cry.” Your mum also complained of the same mystery; you haunted us so bad that we couldn’t think anymore.

My angel, it was not so hard to send you back in few minutes. But those minutes have become unhealing scars in the last five years. We hurt more because it seems you don’t understand that we loved you so badly, that we could do anything to make you happy, what we did was just to hinder you from coming into this evil world. I longed to call you my baby girl, buy you a teddy bear, sing you a lullaby but my dear you were just too special to face the world then. Your mum and I would only have been bloody thieves if we had acted on the spur of the moment, stealing your hope and joy by bringing you into this world of absolute darkness, strife and greed. So, my dear, its best you stay back for as long as you can in light, far away from darkness, because five years after the decision we still can’t say we are ready to let you come home finally.

Baby girl, Ifeanyi and I are still desperate to make things but the society seems to enjoy frustrating efforts. It’s been two years after graduation yet we still are both jobless. Out of frustration, your mum opted to learn tailoring while I intern at Unilag radio and host few petty gigs just to keep body and soul together.

We hope you understand that we did it for you and not for us, for we have resigned to sorrow for all we did to you. Till we meet again.

Yours like None,

Dad



Get updates on our post by joining our BBM Channel via C00396EEB, if you are reading from mobile click: http://pin.bbm.com/C00396EEB

Source: PenAStory www.penastory.com

https://penastory.com/2016/04/15/now-that-you-are-here-episode-six-a-tale-of-deception-betrayal-and-murder/

Excerpt From Episode 5:

Some guys are just too blind to recognize the good placed in front of them, he muttered in disgust. Another thirty minutes and he was driving into his own compound and he was still unlocking his door when he dialed his girlfriend, Halimat’s mobile number. He wasn’t going to be one of those guys that didn’t appreciate what they had.

To read Episode 5: Visit profile or www.penastory.com

The friendship between Damilola and Muyiwa grew rapidly that it was hard to imagine that just a month earlier, they had not even known of each other’s existence. They made phone calls every day and she spent most of her day chatting and texting with him. At first their conversations centered on the pregnancy and he would talk about pregnancy related issues while she asked questions but soon there was no point pretending that all she ever needed to talk about was pregnancy anxieties as they soon began flirting casually via chats but made no mention of it whenever they saw in person. It was like they were both waiting for who was going to make the first move.
At first they pretended it was because of the pregnancy; he was a doctor and she was always in need of one answer or the other to her anxieties. A month and about two weeks after they met, it was clear that there was an attraction between the two but Damilola was not willing to admit it not even when Anu pestered she admitted her feelings.

“You know you like this guy don’t you?” Damilola had gone to visit Anu and the discussion had found its way to Muyiwa. Damilola inwardly realized that she had grown a bit apart from Anu who usually was the one she could tell everything but since Muyiwa came into her life, she found herself doing all she did with her best friend with him. In Damilola’s manner of seemingly always having a logical explanation for everything, she assuaged her guilt by telling herself that Anu had enough to deal with on her own as a newly married woman.

“Not that I like him in the sense you are trying to insinuate but I sort of like him as a really good friend. You know he is my doctor and he was the one that convinced me to keep the baby.” Anu’s raised eyebrow was all that they both needed to know that Anu wasn’t buying the story for a minute.

“Well anything you say dear but don’t forget I am your best friend and I have known you for a while now. What I think is this, you are hesitant because he has a girlfriend. How do you feel about that by the way?”

Damilola sighed and shook her head, “you are not listening to me Anu, I don’t like Muyiwa in that way. He has a girlfriend that he loves dearly, I am nothing more than a female friend. Okay? You really need to chill out babes, which man will like a woman pregnant for another man by the way?”

“What that sounds like to me is you thinking of the reasons why it is wrong to like him,” Anu said with a knowing smile.

“And am I not the same person coming out of a relationship where I got cheated on, why would I want another man to cheat on his girlfriend with me. No can’t do!” Damilola fired back.

“Alright, alright. I hear you but I will still be here waiting to see how things unfold.”

***

Muyiwa couldn’t understand what was going on with him; he couldn’t get Damilola out of his head. The more he tried to stop thinking about her, the more he found his mind wandering back to her. He shrugged out of his medical overall and dropped into a chair listlessly. Even now, after a long day at work of attending to many patients and just coming out of the theatre, he could hear her voice in his head, he could picture the way her face lighted up whenever she was laughing or the way she looked at him as if she wasn’t sure if she should be staring. He could hear her peals of laughter when she said something naughty and he countered back, and he could swear that he could smell the scent of her perfume that reminded him of jasmine.

He ran his hand through his hair frustratedly, he shouldn’t be thinking about her this way but he couldn’t help it. He loved Halimat and he didn’t want to hurt her but this attraction to Damilola was something he found strange. Since he started dating Halimat, he had not even had eyes for any other woman only to have Damilola walk in and change of all that. He was sure Damilola felt the same way he was feeling too but they had both found a way of skirting around the issue to avoid any awkwardness between them. Just then his phone rang and a big smile spread across his face, it was Damilola calling.

He groaned inwardly as he her voice came through sounding sexier than he had ever thought someone’s voice could be. He tried to concentrate on what she was saying about her day but instead found himself growing hard in his trousers as he thought of kissing her lips and listen to her whimpers. It had been a while since he had sex and the past week had seen him hornier than ever before. Halimat was currently on a visit to her village where she would be spending two months which meant he had to be on his own without physical contact but Damilola’s closeness made him long for intimacy. He prided himself on not being the the sex type but he was after all still a man and his manhood needed attention. A woman like Damilola who was carefree about her sexual confident and flirted with him casually wasn’t helping his libido. Without realizing what he was doing, he blurted out “What are you doing tonight Dammy? I would like for you to come over to my apartment.”

She stopped midsentence of whatever it was she had been saying and seemed to understand the import of what he was asking. He had never asked her to come to his house before, he was the one that usually visited.

“I would like to. Pick me up by 7pm?” The timing worked perfectly for him as he got off work by 5 and that left him with about an hour and half to dash home, get refreshed before heading over to her place to pick her.

***

Dinner was over and he could see Damilola was restless, she was fidgeting in her seat as if she was not sitting comfortably and trying to find a comfortable spot on the couch where they were both sitting.

“What is the matter, you have been restless all evening,” he said, taking her hand in his without actually looking at her. She snatched her hand from his as if it burned and laughed to contain her nervousness. She was clearly aware of the sexual tension between them and this night seemed particularly tenser than usual. He turned and looked at her questioningly,

“I can’t hold your hand?” She sighed as if in despair and blurted,

“Don’t act like you don’t know what’s going on here Muyi. We both know there is an obvious chemistry we are trying to ignore. It is not healthy for both of us and my best friend already thinks we are going to end up in bed. You have a girlfriend and this is totally wrong but I can’t help feeling the way I do. I think I should go home, would you drive me home please or get me a taxi?” she talked hurriedly and her voice was almost pleading as if she didn’t trust herself not to say something different. Muyiwa moved closer to her and pulled her closer before lowering his head to kiss her. She pushed at his chest feebly with her hands but her lips opened up underneath his and granted him access. The softness of her lips was like the welcomed relief of collapsing into a soft bed after a long day of hard work and encircling his arms around her, he kissed her hungrily. She moaned against him and took her hand to cradle his head even as his hand found her breast and he squeezed gently. She gave a soft whimper in her throat again and began unbuttoning his shirt. In one quick movement, he had her blouse off and she was straddling him on the couch in nothing but her red lace bra and skirt. She looked like a fiery goddess with her eyes slightly glazed with passion and her head thrown to one side causing her hair to fall in a mess around her face. His hand found the hook of her bra and he unclasped it, sighing in pleasure as her breasts swung free. He had no time to think because her mouth regained possession of his and he was lost in a tide of passion.

Get updates on our post by joining our BBM Channel via C00396EEB, if you are reading from mobile click: http://pin.bbm.com/C00396EEB

Source: PenAStory www.penastory.com

https://penastory.com/2016/04/15/unilag-for-humanity-pic-fic-series-what-will-kill-me-first-tolu-aribisala/

Tell me, what will kill me first? The smoke from the burning wood cooking the food? It burns my eyes, chokes me, and leaves me clamouring for whatever oxygen there is left in the already putrid air.

Or just maybe the water used in cooking? The main source of the water here is none other than Iya Biliki’s well. Well? No! That is not a well. It’s just an incomplete rounded structure with water the colour of cool Lipton tea without any milk. The wall of this well? Disaster. Big disaster. You have never seen anything greener in all of Dustbin Estate.

Okay. Maybe the dirt from the surroundings. That’s more likely to kill me. The black and smelly waste which clogged the drainages that were raked out on Thursday morning still lay by the entrance of the buka. It has already dried, and will soon mix with the rest of the garbage that constitutes the ground of this place. With the habitual fly and its ritualistic shuffling between the dump and the surface of the food as it is being served.

The buka is housed on a great pile of rubbish. As the smoke burns the wood, it burns whatever dirt lies present beneath it, and yes, that is why the flavour of Iya Biliki’s yam pottage is unmatched.

The least I could do was bring my own plate and spoon. I once saw Biliki rinse their used plates with rain water that had accumulated in a puddle beside the shop. But who am I kidding? She must have rinsed the omorogun inside the brewing pot with water worse than that nitori Olorun.

But no! None of the above will kill me first. If I do not quickly get in line, and buy some of this yam pottage, hunger will.

As I stretch my bowl to Biliki to serve me, my mind starts to wander again. Will I eat inside? Ha. It rained last night, and the leaking roof will not do justice to my food: the roof is still crying away the accumulated rain water from last night. The rats, even bigger than the cats here, too fat from inhaling and consuming the waste, too lazy to even scamper when I stamp my feet on the ground to scare them away. Are those ones even rats? My God! Look how fat they are. They own this estate. They fear nothing.

As usual, there is no light to even spot them clearly inside. They might help season the food with extra vermin if they hang from the pako just over my head.

How did I get here? Why am I here? I wasn’t born here like the rest of them. Like Biliki. I lived in an estate that wasn’t made of dustbin. I went to Primary school. I was somebody. Somebody! My mother and I. In that estate my mother was the house-help in a very big house. Then, she was extremely beautiful. “Arewa ti o common,” she had said to me. She cleaned the whole house, washed clothes, cooked, ran errands and did anything you could think of a house-help.

When Chief and his family travelled, the house was ours. My mother would drag our foam from the boy’s quarters, and put it in their living room. She would put on the television for me while she warmed their leftovers for us to feast on. She would occasionally put off the telly to look me straight in the eyes to tell me how I must read my books so that my house can be bigger than theirs, so she will no longer have to be a house maid. I, on the other hand, was sure she kept turning it off and on because of the excitement of knowing how to operate it.

I had just concluded common entrance examinations. Gbenro Adewuyi Secondary School granted me admission. My mother spent everything she had buying books, uniforms, new shoes and socks, everything. She saw it as an investment. Very soon her child will build her a house just like Chief’s.

Unfortunately, the dream was cut faster than the on and off of the television, as she was relieved of her job by Iyawo Chief, who accused her of stealing her money to buy my school essentials. This was the beginning of the end.

No friend could help. No relation in sight. It was either the risky streets or another estate. The almighty Dustbin Estate, Ajegunle! We got a “spot”, where we could arrange and knock wood to form a shelter, coupled with already rusty zincs that helped form a roof over the wood structure. It seemed like somehow, I still built a house for my mother. But not the kind of house we ever dreamt or talked about.

Eight years after, earning whatever I can from collecting and arranging waste, stuffing it in whatever areas of the estate that isn’t filled up yet. I also work as the neighbourhood carpenter: replacing dilapidated wood for people’s houses around, basically laying my hands on anything I can to raise money to write this GCE coming up soon. Why would I then not eat Iya Biliki’s yam pottage? Fifty naira’s worth of that heavy stuff is all I need to get me through the day. I’ll definitely save more.

Wait. The pottage! As I am whisked back into reality, I realise that Biliki has been screaming “Asaro Elelo oooo?”

Get updates on our post by joining our BBM Channel via C00396EEB, if you are reading from mobile click: http://pin.bbm.com/C00396EEB

Source: PenAStory www.penastory.com

https://penastory.com/2016/04/14/the-heart-of-a-stammerer-akunna-adumekwe/

A lot on my mind
Can’t express
I’m being taken advantage of
Can’t defend
I can’t gist
I can’t sing for long
Feel like a different specie
Can’t understand
Right to speech
Not guaranteed

I have this, I have that
Not satisfied
Want to be a public figure
Can’t be interviewed
I’m beautiful and I’m handsome
Not enough
I can jump, I can dance
Not contended
Right to Speech
Not guaranteed

I hurt in my heart
Can’t get help
Wish you’d feel it too
I tried to gist
Got mocked at
I tried to sing
Got hooked
But
I talk in my mind
Didn’t get hook
Didn’t get mocked
Didn’t get stucked
Right to speech
Not guaranteed…

When will I ever be like them
I like the news anchor
But can’t be one
Pathetic me
Can’t be happy for long
A lot still on my mind
My right to speech
Not guaranteed

Get updates on our post by joining our BBM Channel via C00396EEB, if you are reading from mobile click: http://pin.bbm.com/C00396EEB

Source: PenAStory www.penastory.com

https://penastory.com/2016/04/14/vendetta-episode-6-abraham-isaac/

Excerpt From Episode 5:

I expect great things from you, Pete.” He paused and then continued, “very great things. You are dismissed.” She bowed out of the dining room as the Emperor continued smiling fixedly at her. For the first time since she began her mission, Ekdikisi felt uneasy.

To read episode 5: Visit profile or www.penastory.com

It had been quick, full of struggle and disagreeable. But what a prince wanted, a prince got. He had had his way with her and she now disgusted him. In a hurry, he threw her out of his quarters and instructed his guards never to allow her anywhere near him in the future. What good was she anyway? A mere servant. His mere presence gracing her aura should have melted every iota of resistance she had to offer. But, it didn’t. If anything, it fueled her hatred for him. He had clearly seen the hatred for him in her eyes. Her eyes had shone with disgust, the kind of hatred not borne of anger but a sheer irritation at his air of arrogance and megalomania. It amused him at first. Even aroused him. Not anymore. He was disgusted with her, with himself.
His feet gave way under the effect of the realization his thoughts had just registered. That face! The air in the room suddenly became moist, damp and somewhat suffocating. As he crashed to the ground, he felt a sudden throbbing stab of pain and it took every ounce of self-control in him from crying out in agony. It felt as though his heart was out of place.
Long ago, before he had become emperor and had united the Allied Kingdoms, he had met a serving maid, war tribute of the Old Queen. He had taken a liking to her and wanted her for himself. He could have had any other servant. They fell over themselves for the infamous night with the prince. But that had been the problem. The maid was very different. She had often regarded his advances with disgust and obeyed his orders as a mere necessity. That only intrigued him. One day, he thought, he would deal her a hand and he did just that. It was one of his worst lays ever. It hardly ended well too. Somehow, she had carried the fruit of that singular union. Somehow she was delivered of it. That was the origin.

According to the bylaws of the Great City, no member of the royal family can be a female. Any female born into Royal family was killed at birth or the news got out and that bloodline lost its right to the throne. Hegemon had secretly hired mercenaries to take care of the situation. But when the servant had been delivered of child and news of the unhealthy baby girl and the servant’s death had reached the palace, Hegemon had immediately told the Old Queen. The Old Queen. Her ruthlessness daunted Hegemon at times. Enraged at him for making such a horrible mistake, she had nonetheless promised to handle the situation. After eliminating all involved in the situation apart from herself and the prince, she had made sure to hire the finest of mercenaries to hunt down the ill-fated child. It was a long search but they had finally gotten to her or so they had thought. Now, that child was back, with a vendetta coursing through her very veins. Pain seared through his chest again.

He suddenly felt a weight of guilt settle over him. Rape, murder, sabotage, all were sins he wouldn’t have pardoned any of his subjects and now he was guilty of each and every single one. The abandoned product of his youthful exuberance had come home to roost. Despite his wife and numerous concubines, he had no son to his name. No son meant no child, the others had been killed at birth. No child meant the end of the bloodline, he had shed so much gore and sweat to protect and now his own blood would wipe him out without a trace at any moment.

The pain subsided and his head started to clear. This is it. If he did manage to escape this vendetta, somehow, he would still be killed. He had made too many enemies to live a long life. Somehow, he would take a wrong step and get killed. Then, he would be without a throne and a bloodline. The situation would have to be managed better than that. Even if he had to be casualty.
To protect his bloodline, to atone for his sins, he knew what had to be done. He now had a son, a daughter pretending to a son, but a son nonetheless. Damnit! He put a firm hand to his throbbing chest as if to silence the throbbing pain that had begun to gnaw at him again. Somehow, it seemed to obey. Feeling a moment’s respite, Hegemon sat by his bedpost and began to plot again.

Get updates on our posts by joining our BBM Channel via C00396EEB, if you are reading from mobile click: http://pin.bbm.com/C00396EEB

Source : PenAStory www.penastory.com

https://penastory.com/2016/04/13/castaway-caleb-nmebribe/

It hurts…It hurts
When you are pushed away
Carted to the dark
Left to decay
Shaken of all reserve
And lost to the floor
Never to land that perch
Your visions saw

Is it a crime now to dream?
Or to think high
And let my small mind wander too far?
When did you learn to shush my expressions?
Hurting my drive
And this soul to depression

It gives great pain
And aching for years
When this little being
Is spiked and burnt.
Banished, tarnished
A castaway
Because of my weaknesses
My evil flaws

Even nature’s eye pity not
When it’s my being’s naughty matter
In the pot
She pounds and stirs
Drags and scrapes
This tick, this flaw.

Its not my fault
I don’t own their suave
Their adequacies and their lucky charm
Frowning deep at my vanishing being
With no nice studs to fill my barn

My mind whispers and warns
Telling this soul to disregard their pun
But what can one do in this fall
Should I not heed the larger world’s call?
I must learn to watch the floor
Closing my mind
And shutting my eyes
Learning as the world has taught me fine
Those little fantasies aren’t worth the shine

I sit now and smile at my hands
Restricting my suit to my size
accepting my weaknesses and even more,
There are heights never to be touched
Perches never to be climbed

Please, do remind me of shank’s old mare
When next my dreams grow fine wings…

# just_thoughts

# escape



Get updates on our post by joining our BBM Channel via C00396EEB, if you are reading from mobile click: http://pin.bbm.com/C00396EEB

Source: PenAStory www.penastory.com

https://penastory.com/2016/04/13/twenty-episode-12/

Excerpt From Episode 11

Grace hurried off leaving Maryam staring at her retreating back with deep suspicion in her eyes. How come nobody had mentioned murder before? That wasn’t what she had been told. Maryam knew for a certainty now that something fishy was definitely going on and whatever it was, she had to get to the bottom of it fast before anyone else got hurt.

To read episode 11, Visit profile or www.penastory.com

“Babe wait, things aren’t done like that, you just have to be patient, calm the Bleep down, okay?” Maryam was trying to pacify an obviously agitated Chioma who was about to storm out of the room.

‘This ends now, I can’t take any more of it,’ Chioma flung back over her shoulder, her hand on the doorknob. Maryam had come to inform her about Grace’s choice of words. “You heard it yourself, she said murder, first it was her sister picking up calls from the number that has been threatening me and her evil twin appears out of the blue to drop a bombshell that Matthew was murdered? Something sinister is going on and if they had anything to do with Matthew’s death, I swear I would make them pay for it even if it is the last thing I do.”

“We need to think rationally Chioma.” Maryam’s words fell to the empty winds as Chioma was already out of the door. Chioma rested weakly against the door limply for a second as her resolved failed her. What was she going to do, she couldn’t just walk up to Grace and demand for an explanation. The soft music coming from the living room was an indication that the party was coming to a halt as the music had now changed from the fast paced party mood to something slower and sensual. When she made her entrance once again, her eyes rested on her mother who was talking with Gift about something that they were both laughing about. Her eyes flitted to the wall clock standing just above their head on the mantelpiece and she watched as her mother hugged Gift before clinking on her glass of wine with a spoon she was holding to draw the remaining guests’ attention. Chioma stood just at the entrance, not entering the living room fully as she listened to her mother thank everyone for coming at such a short notice. Her eyes kept darting to where Gift was standing with Grace and David.

‘Good evening all my friends…’ her mother began with a broad smile, “…invited friends and even my enemies,’ the last line had the guests laughing boisterously as if Mrs. Ugochukwu was some stand up comedienne who had just cracked some very witty joke and the scene sickened Chioma. Pretenders. The lot of them! She was about to leave and return to her room when she heard her mother mention David’s name.

“I assume you all know this young man who makes me feel like I’m twenty again…’ the guest cheered with a loud clap in their obsequious manner even as Mrs. Ugochukwu also basked in the laughter and cheers. “I am pleased to inform you all that we are getting married. Following the events of the last few days, we have decided that life is too short to wait around for things to happen.”

Mrs. Beebs was the first to raise a hearty cheer which the rest soon took up as they crowded the newly engaged couple. Chioma couldn’t hide her shock and disapproval. Her mother was getting married to David? This had to be some sort of sick joke her mother was playing right?” Her eyes met her mother’s across the room and she glared at her mother furiously who simply turned her eyes away as if Chioma didn’t exist and beamed at another well wisher.

***

“Seems like your fiance is now another woman’s husband to be,” Grace’s voice was mocking where she stood by Gift’s side. She could sense her sister’s fury and she couldn’t help feeling satisfied that Gift was just as shocked as Mrs. Ugochukwu’s daughter when she made the announcement of the engagement. “Or is that part of the plan too?” Grace taunted with a light laugh.

“Shut up!” Gift snapped and walked away from her sister, trying to control the mask of rage from showing on her face as she forced a smile on her face and advanced towards a beaming David who was receiving his congratulations.
The announcement had guests staying for about another hour before the house was finally deserted leaving just Mrs. Ugochukwu, Chioma, David, Maryam, Gift and Grace in the house. Gift and Grace were also getting ready to make their leave when Maryam and Chioma warmly approached them.

“Isn’t it just terrible how old people dance?” Chioma said in a friendly tone directing her question at Grace. Grace looked at her and didn’t need to be told that Chioma was trying to make amends for her earlier behaviour so she smiled back and answered,

‘Terrible,’ Grace said with a shake of her head. ‘”How does it feel having to be having a step daddy soon. Are you okay with that?” Grace couldn’t help taunting. She was trying to read Chioma’s expression just to be certain the look of disapproval she had seen on Mrs. Ugochukwu’s daughter’s face wasn’t just a reflection of the light. Chioma’s expression didn’t change.

‘I am actually,’ she said. ‘Look, I know what you’re both doing, if you ever hurt my mother in any way, I would kill you and kill David again!’ Chioma didn’t wait for a reply as she turned on her heels with Maryam following like a lamb.

“Wait, there is something you need to know,” Gift’s voice stopped Chioma in her tracks. Chioma turned around and stared at Gift who continued unfazed “can you come to the office tomorrow? It’s about David.” Chioma looked like she was going to say no but as if changing her mind, she nodded her head in affirmation.

“I will be there. Maryam and I will come together.”

Maryam fidgeted beside her friend. She wasn’t liking the idea of being with Gift whom she knew was well aware oher escapade with David. “Whatever you have to say, why can’t you just say it now?” Maryam said, her eyes darting around frantically.

‘Trust me Maryam, you don’t want to hear it now,’ Gift said in a cool tone and taking Grace by the hand she pulled her sister along with her.

“What was that about?” Grace asked as they came out of the front door?

‘Let’s wait till morning, I am tired tonight.” Gift snapped back. Grace said nothing, it was obvious Gift was still angry over the teasing and she wondered what big announcement it was her twin was about to make.


Get updates on our posts by joining our BBM Channel via C00396EEB, if you are reading from mobile click: http://pin.bbm.com/C00396EEB

Source: PenAStory www.penastory.com

https://penastory.com/2016/04/09/poetry-play-28/

Samuel Oluwatobi Olatunji and Korn



K:

With ears to see and eyes to listen

I’m vaguely blind and unconventionally deaf

S:

I see things unseen

And hear things unheard

I’m a metaphysical man

K:

Metaphysical beyond this realm

In a realm unseen to the human eyes

S:

I walk in realms

I sit and commune in the gathering of ghosts

K:

Old ghosts, new regrets

Leaving me with a ghost of a smile as I continue to walk this lonely part

S:

The past hunts me like wolves

I watch my sanity wither daily

K:

Now I’m slightly mad, slightly dead

Dead to the world so cold

S:

I fear moons

For its arrows of shadows that stalk me

K:

Piercing me, slightly piercing me

Going deeper

Piercing deeper till my soul bleeds blood black

And my tears fall red deep

S:

I cry into the arms of my bed

Into eerie night of sleeplessness

K:

Thrust into a world of oblivion

Is my sanity intact?

S:

“stop them! Stop them!”

My screaming swallows the night

I know I am out of my mind

K:

Out of mind, out of sight

I am now a shadow of my shallow self

NB: Poetry Play, a product of Artilogue in partnership with PenAStory, is a game in form of poetic dialogue for every poet on BBM. It is a game of two poets: one drops a line or more, and the other replies, flowing along until one of them gives up, or the poem gets too long. Every poem formed from this game will be published here (penastory.com) every Friday and Saturday. So poets, are you ready to play? If yes, contact Samuel via BBM: 7f5210ec



Source: PenAStory www.penastory.com

OneManLegion:
I will eagerly await your updates...it's been a while a story got me so...arrested.

We appreciate the comments, thank you.

https://penastory.com/2016/04/08/empty-anon-ymous/

I’ve done it again
Haven’t I
I’ve incurred your wrath
With all the lies

A secret here
A secret there
I watch you shed
Another tear

Do I still have the right to say I’m sorry?
Do you still see an “us”
I know your eyes are blurry
Gimme one more shot

It’s all I ask
I know loving me
Is an awful task

Say you love me
Say you do
I’m itching to say
“I love you too”

Poet’s Instagram: @Im_not_a_writer_

Get updates on our post by joining our BBM Channel via C00396EEB, if you are reading from mobile click: http://pin.bbm.com/C00396EEB

Source: PenAStory www.penastory.com

http://penastory.com/2016/04/08/unilag-for-humanity-pic-fic-series-peace-and-joy-opeyemi-ojatula/

It was not this darkness that overwhelmed me; it was because beneath this deep gloom, beneath this dark abyss, you could visibly see the light boring holes out of the thick darkness. And then I saw her. The damp air clouded my nose like mucus, and almost made me throw up. The idea that I was in this place unsettled me, and I was deeply imagining how much of a torture I would bestow on Tunde who thought it was a good idea to come here to see another side of life that I was not used to, a life that was the opposite of mine.

Maybe I could pretend as if I was dreaming or imagining this scene. I would have to prove myself against the hallucinations I have been having; for instance, seeing a girl in that rubble. I could not have been dreaming. It couldn’t be. I started to calculate if, I stayed longer, I might choke to death. My condition was worsening and that may explain the hallucinations.

“Aunte!” A tiny, calm voice rang into my ears. It could have been a subtle call but my concentration closed in on me too much. I turned to where the voice had come from and saw her. I had to be sure. There was a sparkle in her eyes that I had not seen elsewhere and it shone beyond her light brown hair and puffy cheeks. I was moving towards her, when the high heels that Tunde warned me about got stuck into the waste-littered ground.

“Aunte… you dhon fall dan…” she said softly almost in a whispery voice as if speaking loudly would hurt her and make her throat ache. I stood up carefully from where I had fallen and held her left tiny hand. She stretched out her right hand. It had in it one Tom-Tom which she offered me while she stared steadily at me with her sad large bright eyes.

“What is your name?” I asked

“Thumilayo”.

Her childlike lisps created an ambience of subtleness and innocence… Funmilayo, she had thought she had said. Her rotund belly protruding from her little dress. She was still staring at me as she held on to me with her tightest of grips, or I had felt that was it. As if in a flash, she had quickly gotten a dirty stool which had almost started to break on its hinges and I stared at what she had as her home: a water logged bamboo shed. She brought me water in a faded green cup.

“Aunte, sorry…” she said.

I stared at her big round eyes with embarrassment, and her family welcomed me with such warmness. She entered the room and came out with a tattered book and insisted that I read it for her. It was a Bible for children and her father still maintaining the warm smile had said that she had always done it to everyone who came visiting. They all liked the idea that I was from a university. Funmilayo said to me constantly that she would like to be a doctor even though I did not bother to ask her. She had said with her lisps that she wanted to cure the sick. It was the moment her baby brother had died from typhoid that she realized it; her mother had said she kept asking for ‘baby’ and when they told her baby had gone to heaven, she told everyone who cared that she wanted to be a doctor, to cure. This was reality and her young eyes told a tale of experience and the wish to explore. She was teary as I was leaving but she had showed me something to hold on to: peace. I saw content in her eyes and she had everything. Beauty in a dirty world.

Get updates on our posts by joining our BBM Channel via C00396EEB, if you are reading from mobile click: http://pin.bbm.com/C00396EEB

Source: PenAStory www.penastory.com

OneManLegion:
PenAStory, is this all we will be getting?

It is a series so each episode comes out weekly

http://penastory.com/2016/04/07/vendetta-episode-5-abraham-isaac/

Excerpt From Episode 4:

She was smiling at him again. Damnit! At least, he was prepared for this one. The bastards wouldn’t recruit him. It was too dangerous for the Outlanders. He knew what he had to do. They would remember his sacrifice. A bird flew over as he reached for the poison. A blood-curling high pitched cry, a rustle of wings, the swift movement of a treacherous dagger and blood. Lots of blood.

To read episode 4: VISIT profile or www.penastory.com

They both slowly sipped the cinnamon tea without a word. From across the table, the Emperor, Megaleio Hegemon stared fixedly at the person who sat at the opposite end of the long dining table. Person. He did not know how else to describe it. It was a masterpiece. That finish. To the ordinary eye, it might have seemed a counter move that got lucky but his were no ordinary eyes. With an uncanny knack for registering little details, he had observed the final match keenly. It was a good thing he had the best seat in the arena, perks of being on the throne. It was a good thing he had laid more women than all the men in his service combined. Immediately the garb parted, he saw what was unmistakably the petal of a budding flower. It took him less than a split second to process what had seen, but he had. It intrigued him.

He had suspected that the contestant from the Outlands was the mole and it had not been a wrong assumption. That was the only explanation for his suicide. It would have been too risky for him to have been conscripted into the Army. Somehow, somewhat, he would have been investigated and his cover would have blown up in bits. Pity! Hegemon longed for a reason to wipe out those treacherous outlanders for good.

What he did not anticipate nor suspect was that there had been two moles. He knew the girl was not from the Outlanders. They never operated in groups. Greater and Lesser Yorkshire hadn’t the sense to have drummed up such a brilliant scheme. If the girl was a mole, it had to be a personal vendetta. That would surprise him. He had made himself quite a number of enemies since his reign had begun. Someone might have decided to be a hero. Well, he was on to them.
But, he thought, was it possible that he was over-thinking? She had disguised to enter the Tournament in truth, but wasn’t there the possibility that she was a mere good opportunist? He frowned slightly as he considered this thought. Perhaps his dreams were beginning to make him paranoid. No. The moment he began to question his own judgment, he would abdicate the throne. He would find out for himself. She, no matter how witty she might appear to be would reveal her true self under his interrogation. He was sure of it.

Fixing a faint smile on his face, he looked over the table again at the girl who had neither spoken nor raised her head since he had invited her to share a congratulatory cup of tea with him, apparently appraising the situation as he was. He finally cleared his throat loudly. As she raised her face, he got a more intense look at her at her and curiously found that she had almost exactly his eyes. Something about that face nudged his memory. He would consider it later. Here was the moment of truth.

“It is my hope that you found the tea pleasant. It was specially brewed for the occasion,” he said not taking his eyes off her face. The face looked vaguely familiar.

“Thank you, my Liege.”

Without a note of flourish, he started, “I have an utmost trust in my inner circle to which you’re about to become a part of. There are only two rules, as a matter of speaking. The first is that you shall pledge allegiance to me. I shall be your Lord and Commander. On no account shall this allegiance be broken even on the pain of death.”

“With my life do I pledge allegiance to you, My Liege.”

“That is good. The second is, you shall answer to no man but me and you shall obey every single directive I give you. Whether it appeals to your better judgment or not, whether it appears reasonable or otherwise. If I command you to run, run you must. If I command you to jump, you must jump as high as the heavens. If I ask you to save, you must rise and save like the gods. If I command you to kill, you must destroy like a plague. Do you agree to these terms?” If she was shocked, she didn’t show it as she replied, “to the best of my abilities, Great Hegemon, Emperor of the Allied Kingdoms, will I adhere strictly to your requirements even on the pain of death.”
He smiled. It was confirmed then. This was no skilled opportunist. This right here, was a skilled, deadly force of vendetta with a grudge running deeper than the oceans. What else could explain the change in moral fiber, from a fair, timid warrior boy who won the Tournament based on a lot of perceived luck to this cold-blooded killer who was ready to strike at a moment’s notice in front of him?

He smiled some more, “I do thank you for your allegiance. It is because of the skill of extraordinary youths such as yourself that the fragile threads of peace in the Allied Kingdoms hold together and strengthen with each passing moment. I’d request that you be included in my personal guard corps. Take the rest of the week of and resume on the first day of the next. I expect great things from you, Pete.” He paused and then continued, “very great things. You are dismissed.”
She bowed out of the dining room as the Emperor continued smiling fixedly at her. For the first time since she began her mission, Ekdikisi felt uneasy.

Get updates on our posts by joining our BBM Channel via C00396EEB, if you are reading from mobile click: http://pin.bbm.com/C00396EEB

Source: PenAStory www.penastory.com

http://penastory.com/2016/04/06/i-saw-the-saviour-come-ikegbune-ugochukwu/

Like shinning gold in the sun

I saw the saviour come

Before his feet could touch the ground all my pain was gone

Like fire burning

He consumes every heart desiring

I saw the saviour come

Like rainbow after the storm

Like laughter after tears where gone

I was weak and feeble

When the savior came

My fire rekindled

I saw the saviour come with a smile on his face

My past he came to erase!

Amidst us he seats, silently

Amidst us he watches quietly

I saw the saviour come

In all his glory reaching out to me

From a thousand worlds he came

Reaching out to me

Blessed I am, because I saw the saviour


Get updates on our posts by joining our BBM Channel via C00396EEB, if you are reading from mobile click: http://pin.bbm.com/C00396EEB


Source:PenAStory (www.penastory.com)

http://penastory.com/2016/04/06/ubuntu-for-all-a-short-story-on-xenophobia/

Disturbing images of chaos flashed through her mind as she firmly clutched her two year old daughter close to her bosom in a grip that was strong enough to suffocate the young one. She slowly muttered prayers in the native Makhuwa language of her home town, Port D’uoro, Mozambique. Her solemn state was suddenly ushered back into its initial state of fear and panic as the frightening noises of the rioters on her street came to her. What exactly is their aim? Who or what are they protesting against? These questions ran through Xiluva’s head as she walked over to the window and peeped out into the streets. They were not yet on her street but she could hear some of the protesters cursing foreigners in Afrikaans, a language she understood but could not speak fluently.


Xiluva sighed as she allowed herself a tentative assurance of hers and Gabrielle’s safety. It is probably a fight between the native Sibasa people of South Africa against the foreigners but even as she tried to assure herself, another question came to her mind. Why had her neighbour banged her door earlier, threatening her to come out? Wasn’t it supposed to be a protest against foreigners? She had no answers to this as she had never imagined herself a foreigner since the four years when she first crossed the border from her homeland in Mozambique to South Africa. She whirled around in fear when another bang came on the door, maybe the danger was not yet over. But this time it wasn’t her neighbour. It was her Nigerian customer who preferred to purchase goods from her directly in the house. Despite hearing the familiar voice of Chinyere, she approached the door cautiously.

“Xiluva please open the door,” Xiluva hesistaed but another urgent bang from Chinyere followed by an exclamation and Xiluva hurriedly placed Gabrielle on a sofa and stood behind the door, “what’s the matter?” She asked,resting the side of her head on the door as if to hear Chinyere better
“Please I shouldn’t be found loitering around this neighborhood, I think the Zulu Boys’ Syndrome has infected the Sibasa boys too,they’re unleashing terror on foreigners outside, I managed to get in here without being noticed.” Xiluva opened the door then and Chinyere entered the room hurriedly. Xiluva noticed Chinyere was just as scared as she was.

“I saw them molesting two black men, I thought it was just a normal domestic violence until my neighbour started banging on my door and telling me to go on the street so I could be molested,she cursed me a lot but I was too afraid to answer her, I pretended I wasn’t home, I don’t understand the issue. I heard them cursing and abusing foreigners too and for once I thought they were against the white people until I saw them beating up blacks ; I even tried calling my husband but…” Chinyere interrupted her by standing up to check on Gabrielle, “Chubby mama. Xiluva, what have you been feeding her? Look her her cheeks.”

“Chinyere the noise is still on outside, ain’t you scared anymore?” Chinyere looked at her for a long time before she finally replied, “it’s my 20th year in South Africa, I have witnessed worse scenarios, I just feel safe in here because I know the riot won’t last the whole day.”

“I wonder why they treat us this way though,” Xiluva said looking at the older woman with fear in her eyes.

“You really want to know why? It’s because we tend to outsmart them in every aspect, it’s not our fault – its the survival instinct in us as foreigners and also their laxity as indigenes. I will just call it intimidation.”

Xiluva sighed, “but I hear them say Ubuntu every time,what has happened to the practice of their Ubuntu?”

“Ubuntu is a relative term my dear and in this case it only works among themselves.”

Get updates on our posts by joining our BBM Channel via C00396EEB, if you are reading from mobile click: http://pin.bbm.com/C00396EEB

Source: PenAStory (www.penastory.com)

http://penastory.com/2016/04/05/pain-faith-and-hope-mojeed-akinmade/

With an active septic vein
This hot salty liquid flows
Burning and hurting my cheeks
Down to my pillow till it’s wet


Up in the morning to a dull day,
The brightness hidden under a shadow
Sun held at bay by the moon
Cold breeze sent shivers down my spine

Up and ready to go
Finding strength in my inner man
Struggling to make things right
Let it not be said that I didn’t try

Coming to terms with reality
Life chosed my identity
Torn between pain, hope and faith
My destiny I took at hand

Facing this anomaly called pain
Transient yet it lingers in its departure
Watching how my faith would tend
Within the confines of a meekly hope

Hope reveals beauty of days to come
Faith says I’ll move mountains
The Purification of my existence
Life took a different turn

Unravelling of the future
My fears are gone
No more wet pillows
Happy and confident is my definition

A future of splendour
Experience of heaven on Earth
As the sun gets to the horizon
Lighting up my world

A future of hope,
Soaring high like a falcon
The skies are fair for the flight
The spirit killeth, the letter gives life

A future of faith
As opposed to doubts and limitations
Bore out my sword like a warrior
Taking down the stumps of past pains

Pain, faith and hope
One giving rise to the other
Leading me to a future of pleasure
Finally enwrapping the treasure which lies in the wait

Get updates on our posts by joining our BBM Channel via C00396EEB, if you are reading from mobile click: http://pin.bbm.com/C00396EEB

Source: PenAStory (www.penastory.com)

http://penastory.com/2016/04/05/twenty-episode-11/

Excerpt From Episode 10:

“What? Who’s there ? Chi is everything alright” Mrs. Beebs, one of the neighbors who everybody said had the faintest heart ever known to mankind asked, her face ashen with fright even though she had not seen what made Chioma scream.

“Gift?” Mrs. Ugochukwu asked in a confused tone as she stared at the stranger standing a bit confused.

“I am here ma,” Gift’s voice came from the other end of the room, “that is my twin sister, Grace.”

To read episode 10, visit profile or www.penastory.com



“Your twin sister? I never knew you were a twin.”

“I am.” Gift said walking towards the door with a smile on her face, “I mentioned I had a sister, I just never mentioned she is a twin.”

“Do come in my dear, any family of Gift’s is welcomed in my house. Chioma, you scared us all with that scream,” Mrs. Ugochukwu said with false bravado and smiled affectionately at her daughter. The other guests laughed and continued with their chatter after ascertaining that there was no cause for alarm.

Grace entered into the tastefully furnished living room and hugged her sister.

“You are late,” Gift hissed in Grace’s ear as they embraced.

“I am sorry about that. I thought you would have gone by now. What do we do now?” The two of them were walking towards the drinks table as they talked.

“You have just set everything back by revealing yourself Grace. We were not supposed to be seen together dammit.” Gift was barely trying to control her rage. This wasn’t part of the plan. Grace wasn’t supposed to have made such a dramatic appearance but trust it to her to always want to appear in grand style without thinking of how her actions affected others.

“Relax, I have a new plan is why I did what I did.” Gift handed her look alike sister a bottle of Orijin drink. She controlled her anger by taking a sip of her own stronger Vodka to match the burning retort that was on the tip of her tongue.

“You can’t just change plans and expect everyone to know what is going on. What the hell is wrong with you? David is not going to be pleased with this you know.” Gift and David barely got along and the mention of his name brought a wry smile to her face.

“Screw David, I couldn’t care less what he thinks. I am doing this for you and not him. He should have died when that bitch stabbed him. I wish he did.” Grace turned around and scanned the room looking for Chioma with her eyes. Her eyes rested on Chioma who was talking to Maryam in another corner of the room. “How did that small thing overpower him though? She looks so fragile. I guess one can never judge a book by its cover.”

“Stop that now! Stop it this minute Grace. You have ruined the plans and I am trying to think. I am never able to get any thinking done when you go on yarping like that. That man in question is my fiancé.”

“Bite me! Your fiancé tried to screw your boss’ daughter sweets. When would you grow up and…” Grace trailed off as she saw Chioma turn towards them.

“Hush now would you, someone might over hear you.”

“She is quite pretty.” Grace ignored her sister’s worried tone and stared right back at Chioma as if sizing her up. “I should go apologize for scaring the wits out of her the other time.”

“Don’t you dare move near her.” Gift hissed furiously but Grace paid no attention. With her drink in hand she weaved her way through guests and approached Chioma who was staring at her with an unwavering gaze as if it was an enemy that was coming towards her to deal a death stroke.

***

“She is heading towards us,” Chioma said between clenched teeth to Maryam who had her back to the position where Grace and Gift were standing. They had been arguing prior to the announcement and Maryam whirled around and watched with narrowed eyes as the topic of their conversation arrived, barely giving her time to collect her thoughts together.

“I am sorry for startling you earlier, I didn’t know my sister didn’t mention me before. Our resemblance has many people unsettled. We got into a lot of mischief as children.”

“I can imagine,” Chioma said dryly bristling at the patronizing tone in Grace’s voice. Maryam shot Chioma a warning look and turned back to Grace.

“I always wanted to be a twin and I have met identical twins in times past but I must say yours and Gift’s quite uncanny.”

“You don’t say,” Chioma muttered sarcastically, “if you would excuse me, I need to retire to my room.” With that, she brushed past Grace without so much as another glance and headed towards her bedroom.

“What’s with her? She seems pretty jumpy.”

“She lost her boyfriend recently, a friend of David’s. He used to work for her mother.”

“The one that was murdered?”

“Murdered?” Maryam’s voice was incredulous.

“Ermm..pardon me. The one that died in an…” Grace’s voice trailed off as she realized her error too late that she had said too much. How come they didn’t have the details? Gift wasn’t going to be happy she had giving that detail.

“What do you know about Matthew’s death?” Maryam queried.

“Nothing. I should go join my sister. I just wanted to apologize to your friend for startling her the other time.” with that, Grace hurried off leaving Maryam staring at her retreating back with deep suspicion in her eyes. How come nobody had mentioned murder before? That wasn’t what she had been told. Maryam knew for a certainty now that something fishy was definitely going on and whatever it was, she had to get to the bottom of it fast before anyone else got hurt.

Source : PenAStory www.penastory.com

http://penastory.com/2016/04/04/mood-swing-akunna-adumekwe/

My mood swings
Almost without me knowing
And when it does
I see no one but myself
I seem lost in the world
I feel ‘m floating in the air
More like slow motion
Everything happening so calm

My mood swings
My lips ain’t smiling
My eyes ain’t bright
My face ain’t bold
I just wanna be alone
Yet I don’t wanna be lonely


My mood swings
Friends keeps asking
Is everything okay?
Neighbours keep looking
Searching the face for reasons
But got none

My mood swings
Was lively earlier
Now moody
Seems ‘m sober
Not mad at anybody
Not lost in thought
Maybe in a state of meditation

My mood swings
Hope it won’t take long to return to its normal
Hope my friends won’t runaway
Hope my Neighbour won’t hate me
Hope it swings to a lively me soon

Get updates on our post by joining our BBM Channel via C00396EEB, if you are reading from mobile click: http://pin.bbm.com/C00396EEB

Source: PenAStory: www.penastory.com