₦airaland Forum

omotenah: kudos

Tnx, u r a 1st timer on dis thread, rite?

kayemjay: Hey guys,

A big thank you to everyone for staying tuned. You guys are the best!

Walewunmi and co. u guys are doing a fantastic job keeping this thread alive. Will send sexy super agents to you. Maybe Sophia.

The wait will be over soon. Just a week to go. I can't wait too.

I'm also working on making e-copies and hardbacks of An Evening With Eva for distribution/sale. My faithful fans will get free copies.

I wouldn't be relevant without you.

Love you all.

Still, I write.

Kayemay, nw u r talking! Make sure dat AEWE gets publishd o! I knw it wil win something.

By the way, check the topics of a Nairalander called ladywriter, it seems like she has some info on Amazon Kindle, it may come in handy somehow.

Best of the year for us all!

Kaycee7: I'll be blunt, Mike.
You turned this story into a folktale @ the end.

Is dat a plus or a minus?

Hameenat94: d story z awesom. nyc 1

Tnx

More comments please.

You r safe,na 4 any lit thief.

Samanther: oga hope I'm safe o

don kross: . Lol, haba ur story make brains die, no mind em ghost viewers.

Thanx jare.

noble4d: your poem has 7 stanzas. it has 2 octave, 2 tercet, 1 sestet and 2 quatrain. you employed blank verse which is a common style in poetry......good 1 bro

Yee! I don't even understand dis analysis, bt i jst flowed wit it.

Thanks a lot.

Continue o!

Esix, e be like say d guy abi na u use jazz 4 dos nurses. U enter 1 chance,u neva finish wit dat 1 u cum enter anoda chance. Na wa o

Wow tnx.

don kross: . Wetin happen bro ?

As ppl no show now, at least I dey expect some folks.


I know this story is not as bad as viewers make it

comment ooo

Brings out his bazooka.

Hmn. C toasting. Oya bring out dat bible.

I nid opinions pls.

Na wa o

Ok ladywriter, am in. My e-mail is ugospur@gmail.com

Oya continue, i hope this aint copy and paste.

Sorry for been out...... But una no try@ my fans.

Anyway, this is the prologue i wanted to start the story with.

Enjoy.

Nneoma sits tight in the living room, watching NTA network news with rapid attention.Her two kids, Micheal and Nneka, were sleeping soundly on her laps, after arguing endlessly over what to watch. She shifted her eyes away from the telly and focused on her two adorable children, still under ten years. she shook her head in pity.

It is now a year after Micheal Nwosu Snr, had died in the hospital after he was attacked by armed robbers in the hospital he was working. His simple crime-trying and failing to save a shot member from the gun-shot injuries acquired after a shot out with J.T.F. That is what they told her, although she sentimentally choose to believe that he was killed because he was simply Igbo. Her belief was strengthened by the fact that there were other doctors there that were treating the injured armed robbers. She looked remorsefully at her kids, wondering what future held for them in this cruel land.

All of a sudden, her intuition rose up, giving her the premonition that something terrible was about to happen. Before she could do anything though, a sudden loud knock was heard at the door, causing her shivers

Shivering out of fear of the unknown, coupled with the rising feeling of evil in her body. After all this is Hausaland, with anything and everything possibly evil happening to you if you are not Hausa and you cross their path. Her mind was crippling her, with only one instruction from it, DON’T OPEN THE DOOR.

The knocking increased and became more violent, waking up her kids, Micheal woke up, suddenly alert to the knocking( as the older child he knew that knocking was not good for the family), he quickly dragged his sister and starting moving to their hideout that was created for situations like this. Nneoma, suddenly brought back to life by her son’s movement, then moved towards the door, shaking seriously and controlling herself . As she steels herself to open the door, possibly to her doom, the door breaks open ………

Micheal continues to pull his sister, who is still half-asleep, into their hideout. The hideout is an isolated place in the house, probably used as a restroom at first, then a store before it was abandoned(due to years of disuse).Micheal had found the place five years back, while playing hide-and-seek with Sunny, the only friend he had made. Sunny died the following year after the discovery, because of a rampage by the youths of the town.

His parents had since found the place useful in hiding themselves during a rampage.After successfully dragging his sister into the place and sitting her down, Micheal started to think about what has now composed part of his life since he was born. Every year at least( at times every two months in ‘special occasions’ such as political campaigning), youths run wild on the town over control of certain areas of the town for their political parties. the chaos increased during the run-up to the elections and becomes terrible during the elections due to ballot box snatching and all the accompanying violence and almost intolerable after elections, as those who lose the elections unleash their thugs to the citizenry.

Of course Micheal’s small mind could not process all that, but it could process the seeming hatred that those youths carry against any one on their path, and he could not understand. At times, something unknown( to Micheal) just sparks violence immediately and people just die for nothing. He was already wise enough to know that this place was unsafe, although all attempts to get the reason why from people proved abortive, it was also equally baffling to him that his mum would not move away from the place. He now concentrated in protecting his little sister.

He could now hear some noise from the house and concluded that the people that were banging the door had entered and his fears were confirmed when he heard faint voices speaking in Hausa. He then heard a slap and his mum crying and begging them not to something, he could not hear very well. As her cries intensified, his heart was beginning to sink, as he thought of the time his father died, he remembered his mum’s wailing and concluded that this was definitely worse than his father’s death.He was thinking of what to do, as he realized that going there will complicate things for his mum( he was that street-wise).As he thought of the next line of action,he suddenly heard a tiny voice shouting ‘Leave my mummy alone!’

Damn!( more like Jesus! in his mind), he was occupied thinking on what to do, while ignoring his sister, who had woken up, heard his mother’s scream and rushed out.He suddenly felt like rushing out, as he knew that if they saw his sister, that she will be in trouble.
He heard the intruders voices raise their voice quite high, probably happy that that they have seen a catch, while his mum’s wailing continued. His sister voice now seemed to the muffled and he could hear chairs screeching , probably as his little sister was struggling. He then decided to sneak out of his hideout, at least to see what he could do.
With stealth movements which may make ‘HITMAN’ jealous, he sneaked out just to see a horrifying scene
Both his mother and his sister were on the ground, and the two riff-raffs were sleeping with them and obviously enjoying it. Micheal was getting very angry and had managed to get a glass bottle,he was planning to shatter it on someone’s head when the next thing he saw made him stop on his tracks.
One of the men had ‘finished the show’ and stood up rapidly. he then brought out a gun and shot his mother on the head, the second guy did the same to his young sister, IN FRONT OF HIS EYES! They then made sure that they were dead and then the men moved off.
Micheal looked at the remnant of what he called his family, shell-shocked at what he saw.

Tears ran down his cheeks as he saw his mother, who had sacrificed herself to save him and his sister and his little sister who he failed to protect. He slowly walked towards them crying out loud, regretting everything, from his father’s death to his sister’s death. As his small eyes were getting drenched in tears, he could make out a name that was on a piece of paper left by the assailants. The name read MUSA DANLADI!

I wrote this poem in Naijastories.com some months back, I want to get views from here



I wondered how, wondered where the sound of the owl comes from,
The darkness chilling to the bones,
The heart and eyes trying with fail,
To penetrate the dark in front of the future,
The mere feel of uncertainty which takes hold of me,
While i walk this dark path
This dark lonely path

What makes a man human
and yet deprives him of his humanity?
What sort of life chain is his mind?
What controls its thoughts?

Can a mother talk to her child’s mind?
Can she explain the explicit wonders of life to her kid,
without murdering the innocence in his heart?
How am i to follow Christ with a child’s heart,
When i have been taught to destroy it before i met Him?

What sort of darkness is this?
I am exposed to freedom, but i still see chains,
chains from the past.
To break such chains will hurt people i love
Yet such freedom is needed if i must follow
What i see ahead of me.

What can i do?
Why am i seeing contrasting people in me?
Like Ying-Yang sign,


My mind and spirit fight and quarrel
I want to follow my spirit but my mind resist
tearing away in rebellion,
as curiosity wages a battle with discipline.


How do i resolve this fracas?
I am still searching for answers
in the dark.