nicholausian:
The word 'gay' is primarily an adjective by usage. In which case, the article 'a' can be used depending on context. 'I'm gay' is more correct in any sense of the word. Not to forget, that "gay' to mean happy is necessarily archaic and therefore, should be avoided in order not to mix meanings with the other controversial sense- homosexual.
'A' is mostly used with gay adjective, when it follows a noun, for example, 'a gay institution', 'a gay movie',etc.
As a noun, the article cannot be used although, or else it will sound offensive. It is advisable to use its plural form, or the substitute gay man or gay woman.
e.g (noun) Gays and lesbians were also in attendance.

This exactly

whitemosquito:
"Ah Senby!"
Lol.

Lol, shey you know it's because of you I wrote in third person.

adebayo201:
Nice one Sebo but seems we've two Mr Adesola in this write up and it's quite confusing.


I noticed that you typed this with your phone or something related because of some little error like punctuation marks.


I really enjoy it thou
KIU... keep it up

Yh, I was typing with Microsoft Wordpad. Doesn't quite point out errors like MS Word so I'll have to go over again manually. As for two Mr. Adesolas - there's just one. Maybe I made a mistake somewhere. Where's your point of confusion?

Kunle stepped out his car, exhausted. He had had a completely exhausting day. From the very moment he opened his eyes in the morning, it had been stress all the way. Or more likely, from the various moments he opened his eyes through the night when his two month old baby decided to start bawling for a new reason neither he nor his wife, Funke could fathom till, on his own, the baby would just shut up and go to sleep. Only to resume crying the moment Kunle's eyes started drooping. By daybreak, Kunle had decided the boy needed deliverance.

Then work. A different story entirely. It had been one task after another. Tasks that took him from floor to floor of the company's 15 storey building. On a day both elevators were out of order. By early evening, Kunle was sure he had the most muscular thighs on earth. That needed a good and proper massage from anybody but Funke's hands that felt like reinforced concrete. But if Funke saw any other woman lay her hands on her husband - any other person for that matter - he wouldn't be needing a massage but a hospital bed. He groaned at the thought.
He looked up at the three storey building he called home and the first thing that struck him was the darkness. No light.

Normally, Kunle would have sighed and started contemplating how he would battle the heat and mosquitoes all through the night, seeing as the mosquitoes in his flat seemed to have developed an uncanny resistance to the effects of all the popular insecticide brands. Like they were wearing gas masks. But today, he smiled to himself. The past three hours he had spent on a queue at the petrol station were totally worth it. Some of his most committed driving in the midst of danfo drivers and okada riders meant he managed to get to one of the fuel pumps, fill his car's fuel tank and a 50 litre jerry can. And to make his "victory" even sweeter, the attendants had decided to stop selling just after he paid for his purchase. At least on one thing today, God was on his side.

But there was a problem, Kunle realized as he made to take the keg out of the car boot. Getting the keg from car to flat without being spotted. His neighbours were like fuel zombies; especially Mr. Adesola who seemed to be able to smell fuel from his flat at the top floor. If any of them knew he had fuel anywhere, he was in trouble.

Two days ago, Eze had raised an alarm when he went to check why his generator at the back of the building went off suddenly. Apparently, he had filled his tank to the brim that morning before leaving for work. Only for his generator to go off less than five minutes after being switched on. It was only on checking the fuel guage that he realized that his fuel tank was completely empty. Opening the fuel tank and peering in with a flashlight revealed that it was so empty that the fuel thief must have turned the generator over to ensure he/she extracted every drop of fuel. The curses that were rained that night were enough to make a tout blush.

Last week, Kunle had battled touts, angry men and cursing women to secure a twenty five litre keg of fuel at the fueling station. Congratulating himself on the amazing feat, he got home and had stopped at the compound gate to rest a bit when he was accosted by Mr. Adesola.

"Ah, neighbor. Good evening."

Kunle was in no mood for a conversation but he had been raised better than to ignore a friendly greeting.

"Good evening. How are you? And the family?"

"I'm fine o. We're all fine," Mister Adesola replied, eyeing the keg. "It's just this heat. The weather has been warm for a while, you know. And we haen't been able to switch on our generator. You know, this scarcity is really bad..."

"Yes o, really terrible." Kunle responded, eager for the conversation to end. "I..."

"My brother, things in this country are just too hard. I have looked for fuel everywhere to no avail. Me, I can survive on my own but, you know, the children and the wife..."

"This scarcity should just end." Kunle interjected, not liking where the conversation was going. "It's making things difficult for ALL of us."

"Really difficult. MY last born cries every night from the heat. Has started developing these nasty rashes too...."

"I'm really sorry about that."

"Thank you, thank you. I just wish I could get fuel somewhere. Even the wife is sick now and this heat wouldn't do her any good. And the mosquitoes...."

Kunle began regretting his decision to rest at the gate. Why didn't he just get into his flat first before resting?

"My phone battery is so low now. And my oga at the office sometimes calls at odd hours to confirm certain things. If he can't reach me, it might be a problem. I just don't know..."

Kunle sighed, annoyed at the words he was about to utter.

"I could let you have some fuel..." Kunle murmured.

"Ehn?" Mr. Adesola responded. Kunle's heart leapt at the thought that the man hadn't heard his offer and was going to retract it. "Thank you so much!" Kunle's heart and face fell. "God bless you. May your keg never run dry. May you never lack anything. Thank you so much!" Mr. Adesola disappeared into the building and emerged almost immediately with a twenty five litre keg of his own, like he had kept it there, expecting he would receive fuel. Kunle found himself parting with ten litres of fuel and his happiness for the night.

So he wasn't going to take chances this time. He peered around carefully. Nobody was in sight. He stepped outside the compound gate and looked down the street both ways. Nobody was approaching. He ran back to his car, opened the boot and began lifting out the the keg...

"Ah, neighbour!"

Kunle dropped the keg back in the boot.

"Mr. Adesola! Good evening!" He slammed the boot shut, wondering how the man that was approaching him from the side of the building had manifested "How are things?"

"Fine o, neighbour. Would have been much better if the power supply were better. Or one could find where to get fuel."

Kunle began to wonder if there was some form of witchcraft the man possessed.

"My brother, i tire o!" Kunle replied, leaning against the car. "I drove all the way to Berger to look for fuel, without luck."

"Ehnn.." Clearly his story wasn't being bought. "No wonder you're back so late."

"Yes o."

"Things are just so hard in this country. How can an oil producing country still be importing fuel? And the marketers are just holding the entire country to ransom..."

Kunle groaned inwardly. He would have to leave the fuel in the boot for now and come back to get it much later in the night. For now, he had to endure a conversation with a Mr. Adesola that continued his political rant while stealing meaningful glances at Kunle's boot.

And endure he did. For close to an hour, Kunle leaned against his car while being lectured on Nigeria's political troubles and the need for the common man to band together and help each other in times of need because the government wasn't going to help. A lecture that would have gone on for much longer if Funke hadn't called to find out where he was. Kunle had never been so relieved at his wife's call.

He spent the next two hours like a SWAT operative. Constant glances out of the window revealed that Mr. Adesola remained outside for thirty minutes after they parted before disappearing into the building. Kunle gave an extra hour and thirty mintes to make sure Mr. Adesola had gone to his flat and slept. Finally, a few minutes past midnight, Kunle carefully unlocked his door, tiptoed downstairs to his car, quietly unlocked the boot, lifted out the keg and practically sprinted back to his flat, stopping to put the keg down so he could open the door. No sooner had he touched the door handle than he heard a sound that chilled him to his bones.

"Ah, Neighbor!"

http://gidicentral.com/blog/2015/06/08/short-story-monitoring-spirits/

The use of "Mr." with a protagonist's name was intentional. Not something people do all the time. Good one breaking from the norm.

Errr, I did however, notice an error or two. I think the most apparent was a bit of an issue with tenses. Take this statement for instance: " He and his wife had four children who
have all gone on to different promising
occupations."

We are assuming the four children have already, errr, gone on to different occupations. In that case you should have used "had" instead of "have" since we're completely depicting events that have already happened.

then this: "It was
an exclusive lounge for the wealthy class in the
Port city whose clientele comprises of mainly
workers" Technically, it can come across as correct (I'm not sure, till i get that degree in English language!) but at least for ease of reading, you could use "was" then "comprised" or "is" then "comprises". Keeps the tenses in the same family, don't you think?

Just sha take a look at certain points in your writeup and watch out for mistakes with use of tenses. You can't say keep using "liked" for nearly half the passage, switch to present tense in "likes" for two sentences then revert back to past tense. It appears inconsistent and confuses the reader.

Oh, and spacing. You need to better space your paragraphs. Makes reading easier.

Asides those, I actually like your story, though i'm not much one for drama. I like your use of language - goodness knows it's better than a lot I've seen on this board and I like the fact that it does not span 42 pages. Yes, that is actually a good thing. Thank you!

Kelvin3028:

senbonzakurakageyoshi, thank you for you lengthy comment... I must let you know that I am quite aware of the said 'error' of using 'lose' instead of 'loss', on the title but I want to believe that you are not a literary person... Coz if you are, you would have heard of some words like LITERARY STYLE, LITRARY LICENSE, or even DICTION... Its not an error, its intentional... Ask Ayei Kwei Armah writer of THE 'BEAUTYFUL' ONES ARE NOT YET BORN... He understands what I did there.

Okay, let's believe that's the case. You could have pointed that out when the first person corrected you. Even Ayi Kwei Armah explained his use of spelling.

Besides you used "lost" not "lose"

LarrySun:
LOL! This got me reeling with laughter!

My dear ehhhh. The author needs to help me understand what happened there. Really, I would like to see someone shrug for a few minutes in real life. Let's see if the person would be left with shoulders afterwards.

Asides the mind-blowingly long title, and one or two errors, this has been pretty good so far. I'll go through properly soon enough and point out what I think needs looking at. At least this is work that's worth the effort.

Okay, we get it. You're relating true life experiences (at least so you said in your OP). That doesn't, however, excuse you from proper use of grammar, structure and style. You're on the literature board, so if you're telling any story here, fact or fiction, we expect you'll tell it properly.

My dear, I expect better in your subsequent updates.

Besides the loads (I mean loads!) of spelling and grammatical errors, who shrugs for a few minutes? Was she trying to set a world record for shrugging?

LarrySun:
Kindly space out your paragraphs.

Dear LarrySun,

Thank you.

Regards, Senbonzakura Kageyoshi.



I get it that the writer is trying to be laid back and informal in his writing style but, I'm sorry, it strikes me more as random ramblings. There doesn't seem to be a coherent structure which, clearly, is not intentional. There's a difference between laid back and random. Take note.

so.....after more than one person's correction, the author of this story series refused to modify the title. Na wa.

My dear, the title of a story is pretty much as important as the story itself. If a title is poor, I won't be inclined to read the story, because it gives me the impression that the story would be ridden with errors which, except I'm the story's editor, is not my headache to correct. You might want to take another look at your title and make the necessary correction.

An0nimus:

You won't believe I still follow that thread hoping he'll visit it someday.

Ewo! Mi dio! You are not kidding me!

Ishilove:

What of the Nightlies?

Ahhhh, the nightlies......I was getting worried it was becoming a boring read so I decided to step off the accelerator......didn't expect that break to reach a year tho!

ihedinobi2:


Senby!! How parolz, bro?

me is good o!!!! Just been here trying to get back my writing groove. where in this world have you been?

whitemosquito:
Hey senby, You always write In The First person......give us something different sometime na...

Lol, I guess I'm just really comfortable with writing in the first person. I'll give it a shot though.

An0nimus:

So far so good, none. For me sef it ended too fast as I was half expecting the guy to push the car in lagos traffic

That would have just been epic! The only thing left would have been for him to jump into the lagoon!

nobody found this a long read?

laykorn:


Why, sir?

For one, a critique is not only for the benefit of the writer, but other writers reading his/her work and the readers too as they may do some writing of their own someday. Sending them critiques privately would deny others the opportunity to learn from someone else's mistakes.

Besides, it's a faceless forum. I don't know why anybody would get offended over comments made in good faith and to someone's benefit just because their massive, massive ego feels hurt. I'm sorry but if the critique or criticism as the case may be, is deserved and you feel offended, you might want to reconsider the "writer" tag you attached to yourself.

smilingazor:
Interesting piece, hoping update wil be follow for better understanding. Great work

Sorry dear. You see, it's a short story. That's all there is to it. C'est finit.

I was late. Horribly late. I just knew that one bottle with Segun would degenerate into something else. That something else being that I woke up by 7:30. I had to be at work by 9. As soon as I saw the time on my bedside clock, my mind went into calculations mode. If I followed my normal routine, then factored in traffic and other Lagos factors, I would get only one result; lateness of life and destiny.

I took a bath in five minutes, my personal record. Skipped on brushing and used mouthwash instead. My teeth might not have been very clean but at least my mouth wouldn't stink up the entire place and cause my fellow employees to call disease control. Breakfast was skipped too and I only buttoned my shirt as I was flying down the stairs. I had just got to the main gates to open them when I noticed something amiss. There was something there that shouldn't be. A car. Parked right outside my gate.

On mornings like this, I'm convinced some people in my village are pulling strings.

"Ahmed," I called the security man." Whose car is this?"

"Ehn, na dat man wey dey stay for that green house. Wey dey drive red Camry." Clearly I could see it was a red Camry.

"SO why is he parked outside our gate?"

Ahmed had no answer.

"Please go and tell him I am kindly asking his permission to drive out of my own compound."

The sarcasm flew over his head like a fighter jet.

"But Oga, you no suppose ask am before you commot na."

I was about saying something about cars that can't fly over gates but realizing it would be lost on him, I settled on "Ahmed, just tell him to come move his car."

With each second Ahmed was gone, I fought a running battle against the urge to glance at my watch, as if not looking at it would make time pause. And Ahmed spent more than seconds - approximately ten minutes that felt like twelve hours passed before he emerged from the man's compound. And another two minutes must have passed before the man himself emerged, waddling lazily towards where I stood beside his car, shirtless, protruding belly bouncing like a water-filled balloon and, worst of all, one hand buried somewhere between his legs inside his large shorts that, with the motion coming from there, must have been exploring for oil fields. I shivered.

"Ahhh, neighbor." HE greeted on approaching me. "Sorry, I parked here. You know, there was no parking space when I got home last night..." as he was saying this, he withdrew his oil exploration hand from his shorts and extended it for a handshake. I shrank back like someone that had just been offered a dose of ebola.

"No problem,: I said, waving to him instead, although he was standing right in front of me. "I'm just running a bit late for work and I would like to get going."

"Oh, I'm so sorry. Let me move it. How is your wife, by the way? I heard she put to bed not too long ago. Congratulations. How is the child?"

Of all the times since delivery of my first child that this man could ask me about my family, he chose this not-very-blessed morning? The expression on my face alone told him to move his car or risk instant decapitation.

I watched him move the car before jogging over to mine, throwing in my work bag as I was entering the car. I shut the door, strapped my seatbelt across, put the key in the ignition and turned it.

The engine kicked.

The car didn't start.

I muttered a "God forbid" under my breath. My village people must not win today.

I tried again with the same result. I exhaled heavily in frustration. Why this morning for goodness sakes? I tried again. And again. And again.

Each time with the same result and more and more, the car was sounded like it was losing its self esteem.

I said a little prayer before trying the fifth time.

No luck.

This was turning out to be my worst morning since that morning five years ago that I received news that my dear grandmother had passed away in her sleep. This time though, I couldn't go back into my room to brood for the rest of the day. Not if I didn't want to start explaining to my neighbors why I wasn't leaving for work every morning anymore.

"Ahmed!" Ahmed appeared promptly. "Help me push this car. I think the battery is dead or something,"

"Make I push am go front?"

"Into someone else's car? No, push it up. To heaven." I hissed, the very picture of frustration as I put the car in reverse and Ahmed started to push. Once the car picked a bit of speed, I tried starting it.

It spluttered.

My heart leapt.

Then it died.

My heart sank with the dying engine.

"Make I push am front na," Ahmed offered. So we restarted what became a routine. He would push, the car would pick up speed, I would try starting the ignition, it would splutter and die. Six times. The impressively dark Ahmed was beginning to look purple in the face and had started muttering something about not doing "conductor work". The reality of using public transport, something I had not done in years began to dawn on me. I shook my head. If we tried one more time without luck, I would just take my work bag and sprint to the closest bus stop.

"Ahmed!" I called. He didn't answer - just glanced at me, looking positively mutinous, probably wondering which demon sent him to offer pushing it again after the first try failed. I began to reconsider asking for one more go at it. "Let's just try once more." I soldiered on. "If it doesn't work, you can go. I'll just take public transport."

Begrudgingly, he acquiesced and started pushing. As normal, the car reached almost terminal speed.

I tried the ignition.

And the engine roared to life.

I nearly jumped out to dance shoki, my only prevention being that I was running late and a grown man in suit dancing shoki on Monday morning wasn't likely to be a normal sight to the neighbors. Last thing I wanted was my mental state becoming a topic for street discussion. I shouted my thanks to Ahmed with a promise to "see him" when I get back and set out down the street, thoughts of how I was going to Fast and Furious my way through Eko Bridge traffic filling my head. That was till I got to the street gate to notice something odd.

A Red Toyota Camry was parked right at the street at.

I have always thought there was something evil about red Camrys.

I stepped out of the car, taking care to leave the engine running, and approached the street security men to ask which camel parked a car at the street's only entrance and exit point.

"Ehn, it's one woman that stays in that house." One of them said, pointing at a building adjacent to the street gates. "She just suddenly stopped and ran out of the car and into the house. Must be an emergency."

Just as I was about calling down curses on whichever witch it was that parked her car here to prevent me from going to work today, a lady popped out of the building and made straight for the red Camry.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" She gushed. "I forgot my phone!"

I was so mad, I was speechless.

Finally, the offending car was driven out of the street entrance, leaving the road clear for me to be on my way. I shook my head slowly to shake away the evil thoughts I was beginning to harbor towards other residents on this street as I walked back to my car.

Where I discovered that the engine had died.

I sank into the seat and tried starting once. Twice. Thrice.

No luck on all three tries. And someone had pulled up behind me and was honking insistently. I glanced at my watch. 9:30

I picked my phone, dialed a number and waited for it to connect.

"Hello. Good morning, Mr. Bello. This is Samson Adeolu-Sobanjo from the Quality Assurance Department. I just received news that my grandmother was involved in a ghastly motor accident......at Ketu......yes, I'm her only relative that’s resident in Lagos....."

ihedinobi2:


Oh my!! I'm flattered, very flattered, Efe. Thanks for remembering me.


Biko, what am I being nominated for?

Ihedinobiiiiiiii!!!!!!!!!!

Much as I support Ishilove's nomination, I think she has enough on her hands as a mod at the moment. Of course, she's free to critique at any time but I don't think we should add to her workload.

Thanks to everyone who has weighed in on this discussion so far. It is reassuring to see that I'm not alone in my view that the literature section needs a revamp and I'm thankful for all suggestions and observations that have been contributed so far. The homepage recommendation thread is a really good idea, IMO - at least from recommendations, we can tell whose work has been worth reading and some of us who might not have seen such works would get to discover them.

A step in the right direction.

Dygeasy:
It's even more appaling that these self-acclaimed literary giants writers have avoided this thread like a plague.

Well, I think the fact that at least I've seen some of the familiar faces I met on this board and others who joined later and have kept the standard or even raised the bar weigh in on this discussion. They are the ones who know what this board was like and the standards it held. Forget all those paper tigers that post thirty topics in one week and call themselves established writers. They can avoid this thread all they want but if those of us here are determined to effect necessary changes here, they'll have no choice but to shape up or ship out.

I think we should have a system of positive reinforcement on this board. In this context, it would be a way of rewarding those who continue to show marked improvement, whose works are up to scratch, who have not shown an aversion to criticism but have allowed it help them grow. Also to reward board members who keep the board interesting and varied with board games, literature and literary arts related topics and things like that.

For me, when I first started writing on this board, my story making the frontpage was the ultimate mark of approval. So each time I wanted to post a story here, I would be forced to look it over and ask myself if it was front page material. While the front page still remains so, we need to create our own in-house means of rewarding readers, writers and other contributing board members who have played their part in making this board the home of quality literary arts.

One way I could come up with was to have a "story of the week" thread. Or sticky the story at the top of the board. Maybe we can have a readers' choice story of the week and a moderators' picks story of the week. The readers' choice, of course, would be nominated and voted on by the general literature board public. The moderators' picks should be chosen by the moderators in conjunction with a few literature board members who have distinguished themselves on the board. The winning stories can by stickied at the top of the board for a few days - maybe over the weekend or something. that way, even stories or threads that haven't had much by way of comments but are quality can get get the exposure they deserve.

This is just a rough suggestion, and i'm sure we can modify this idea or come up with other ideas that could work equally well if not better than what i've been able to come with. But I feel we need to have a means of giving our own thumbs up to those who are making this board proud within the board.

Here's a suggestion that everyone of us can effect, moderator or not; we cannot allow poor quality to continue to thrive on thius board. As a result, we need to renew the culture of reading through and passing our honest opinions about what we read on this board, REGARDLESS of what the poster or/and other board members feel about it. This is a public forum, and as far as you critique in a civilized manner using courteous language, there shouldn't be a problem. Only a child runs crying when cautioned about mistakes made. A student that doesn't want to fail again has two choices; improve or drop out. If a writer on this board is not willing to take correction and improve, then the person should leave, instead of trying to impose mediocrity on us all.

Also, we need to stop the whole "take a bow" attitude we take towards written works on this board, saying well done when the writer hasn't exactly done well. We are as much a part of ensuring the quality of written work on this thread stays high as the writers and moderators and if a writer's work is below par or ridden with errors, it is our job to point it out.

It is important too, that when one of us critiques someone else's work and the person is swinging back at the critic, the rest of us should back the critic up - especially when the critique is apt and the criticism is well deserved. The reason some on this board have stopped expressing their opinions about people's works is because when we critique, and the poster and other members lash out, there's nobody to back us up. So we feel it's better to just shut up and let things slide as against speaking the truth - which shouldn't be the case.

The fact is that nobody here is perfect - so nobody here is above correction.

Ishilove:

Is the site owner a mod if this section? What does he have to do with this? The onus is on the writers to improve their skills. If they don't improve, there is very little the mods can do.

Ishi, the reason I wanted to call Seun's attention to our concerns on this thread is to find out if he is comfortable with the current state of things. I mean, who knows, the board may be attracting more hits with it's current setup than it did before and that might suit his intents and purposes so trying to change things might appear to be working against the administrator's plan for the board. I think I would like to know if Seun is also concerned with the current state of things on this board or if he is comfortable with it.

Question one: are you actually interested in writing/books/literature or are you just interested in this board because of your course? Regardless of what your choice is, this board should be helpful to you but we can't provide guidance if you don't know exactly what you want.

For those blaming the moderators alone; they may have some blame - but not all of it. everybody on the board shares some of the blame for what the board has become. Those of us that knew the quality this board used to boast of and allowed it to degenerate to this level take some of the blame. Readers and writers who are only here to crank out and consume have to shoulder some of the blame. Other literary/literature enthusiasts on the board who are not interested in reading or writing can come up with related threads or board games that would make the board fun and, having not done that, must accept some blame too. Everybody has to take some blame.

And because we are all to blame, we are also all to work together to correct the faults we have outlined here.

Here's what I feel: we can't continue to let mediocrity reign in this section just because someone created a thread (because, let's face it, not everybody that posts on this board deserves to be called a writer) and feels butt-hurt at other board members' criticism and analyses of his/her work. We define the community, instead of letting the community define us. If you're not ready to listen to or accept criticism, then go to another board and post freely there. By posting a story on this board, you have opened yourself and your work up to other members who serve as critics, the purpose of which is to correct your mistakes and make you a better writer. If you feel the critiquing or analysis is unfair or wrong or that the critic doesn't get the point of your work, then you explain what you're trying to put across and move on.

It's like homeless people are occupying your house and you're telling them to leave. You won't leave them because they say no. If they don't want to move, you throw them out. It's that simple.

Infomizer:


AFAIK, the onus lies on the Mods to bring decorum to the section. Seun isn't capable of overseeing everything on the forum (or so I think) and that's why he designated the duties to 'em. There's a reason why there's a Literature section and the status quo should be checked against the laid down objectives by whoever is in charge. But then, that's my opinion.




This.
It has to be a really engaging and interactive community. Back then in secondary school, the Literature club wasn't strictly all about storytelling nao...

I'm not asking or expecting Seun to bring about the changes we would like to see but as the administrator of this forum, it is imperative that we find out if the current state of things has been allowed to go unchecked because it favours his, well, business model if you like. And if it isn't, whether he would be willing to allow us make certain changes to how the board is run by the moderators and implement certain suggestions we feel would make this board better.