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I am very much interested

Thanks, sir boyo 123. Big ups bro

Folks, thanks for reading this, watch out for the next big thing. A Night With The Devil by Sidophilic. cheers!

thanks bro. I hv been a silent writer for long. I felt this is a better platform to be heard
Cc: Lalasticlala

This is a tribute to every victims of rape. Believe this; God is always with you.

I looked back and I was lucky he didn't look back. From behind, I drove the dagger through the posterior part of his neck, removing the very sharp dagger and dipping it back into the broken blood pipeline on his neck. I made sure he gave up the ghost before leaving the spot. I was kind enough to close his wide opened eyes with my left hand. I dropped the dagga at that scene and I was glad I spoke for every other families the community rascal had dealt with, one way or the other. I also spoke for the family of Aduke that died after aborting a pregnancy - An act masterminded by Korede who owns the pregnancy.
I do not want any sympathy from anyone, I did what I wanted to do and I have no regrets. Mum, forgive me if you think we are not the kind of children you deserve. Janet, save your tears for another day. Barrister Kofo, please tell her I did it because I love her. Please, tell her I will always love her and she should use her Anti retroviral drugs correctly so that mum will not be alone. I don't think I want to be around her. I prefer anywhere I will be sent. What will I be doing around a sister that will forever remain single and unhappy all her life. Those happy memories that were replica of that of her last birthday with me and mum will never surface again. What a waste of beauty! What a curse in disguise! I woud have appreciated a ugly Janet the same way.
I prefer this enclosure with this scary- looking creatures at the moment. The Janet I know will never marry any man. And if mum had been right about hell fire, unlucky me! Constable Saka, thanks for the pen and paper. Barrister Kofo, my regards to my uncle. Thank him on my behalf for paying you. I don't care what the entire word think of me. I had to write this because I wanted to go to that grave, upholding my vow of 'not talking'. If by tomorrow, the Jugde says;' life in jail', cool. And if he says 'death by hanging', why not me?

Johnson Rowland
Igbobi Prison,
Saki, Oyo State.
25/06/2015 (Janet's birthday eve)

Without saying any other word, I went straight to my Mum's room and in no time, a sharp matchet materialised. I was determined to kill the miscreant, damning the consequence. I'm very sure I met people on my way to the chairman's house but I never heard any of their questions. Getting to the chairman's house, I acted calm, concealing the cutlass behind me, for the gate keeper to throw the gate open. He had hardly opened the gate when I brushed him aside, aiming for the main building, he followed me at a safe distance as he called on the policemen in the compound who were caught unawares, unarmed. I knocked and kicked the gigantic iron door but it was not opened. At a point, I got frustrated and sat down, crying with my forehead on the hands that pressed the tip of the cutlass to the earth. At that point, the police came closer to disarm me and coincidentally, the chairman arrived at that instant. He promised that Korede will not go unpunished and I wish he kept his promise. If wishes were truly horses! The next thing I saw at that silent night in my household were emissaries sent to beg my mum and pay us off. I felt indignant and sent them away with the same weapon-the cutlass, although to mum's disapproval. We had hardly woke up the following day, from a forced sleep when some policemen came to arrest me for intrusion. I was surprised that the chairman could be so callous. I wish Uncle Kola had come home for an entirely different reason. He came all the way from Lagos the same day as Janet's suitor. They informed me I was released after they were made to sign a document that stipulates that they would not come up with any case against korede. I was angry, not with korede, neither was it with the chairman. I was angry with my class. So, people of my class can be cheated and our rights trampled upon with impunity, I asked myself. I promise never to forgive Korede.
Against all odds, Mr. Benson did not forsake my Sister. To make it obvious to us he is not bowing out of the relationship, he promised to come for the Marriage introduction by September. Mr. Benson and Janet went out one day only for her to return with a swollen eyeballs. I was about asking her what went wrong when she lamented; 'I'm doomed'. Before I could probe further, she burst out into tears and fainted. All efforts to call Mr. Benson proved abortive. My head spun continuously after she revealed what happened. My own sister, HIV positive. So, the test result confirmed. I kept quiet saying little or nothing to people around me as my sister cried all day. A witch that will kill a juvenile will never have blood stains around her mouth. On my mind, it was only through Korede she could have contacted it and I wasn't ready to consider any other source.
I laid an ambush for him and he walked into the trap. On sighting me, getting out of the bush that adorned both sides of the footpath, it was obvious he was startled but I presume his huge stature gave him that confidence that nothing beyond his control will happen. ' Being the cousin to the chairman does not make you untouchable. The man to do the touching had only not mustered enough courage.' I thought as I moved closer, keeping mute, pretending not ready to engage him even with words. The bottled up anger got liberated when I was directly beside him and he sarcastically said; 'how is that broken pot you call your sister doing?',

pls, your comments will be highly appreciated

would have murdered her that day had people not come to her rescue.If you are badly in need of an example of peer pressure, my life at that time was a perfect case study.
On the contrary, guys flock around Janet like flies around an open pit latrine. There was hardly a day she doesn't have a new toaster. Some even send gifts to her through me. Well, I take care of the edibles while I persuade her to keep the ladies' things. I laughed and screamed on top of my voice the day she informed me about the judgement she passed on the guy that consciously touched her butt. 'I gave her a dirty slap he will ever live to remember.' She said with pride and gaiety. To her, the slap gave her back her dignity. To be honest, Janet is the real problem. She is too beautiful to ignore. She is a light-skinned girl of average height and the hill-like projection in the front seem to add to their emotional torture, even though, to me, it's nothing more than a part of her body at the right place. When she smiles, you need to be a hundred and one percent focused if you are using a sharp object. I was the proud brother of the community belle. Mr. Benson, her suitor was very lucky to have won the heart of my sister.
There is definitely no smoke without fire. I could only attribute my sister's moral uprightness to the proper upbringing by our mother. Mum, a petty trader brought us up with the fear of God and had always begged us to help justify his vow never to marry again after the demise of our father many years ago. In all honesty, I never felt the absence of our dad once. On the contrary, I thank the good Lord that Dad is late each time Kola gets his fair share of corporal punishment and our neighbour beats up his wife. Although, mum said he was a nice person, I still maintain my Thomas stance. Uncle Kola had been very supportive both morally and financially. It's a well known fact that having a university education, for me is an illusion, given my mum's financial status. But my tested and trusted uncle had promised to come for me the next time he visits. He had a very lucrative business in Lagos and I was confident financing my tertiary education is secured. He promised to alert me through my rickety cell phone, a day before his arrival. If only I new I was going elsewhere!
I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw that figure about five metres ahead.' No! that couldn't be my sister', I thought as I moved closer to her. Unusually scattered hair, gown torn though the cleavage, swollen eyes with both hands on her head were too much information to alert any passers by that all is not well. I opened my mouth transfixed to the same spot after moving close to about a metre from her. 'What happened?', I asked. I had barely said that when I saw a confirmation. Sometimes when evil struck, we prefer taking solace in the lies we tell ourself. I wish my mind was only playing pranks on me. I wish I was only seeing things. I wish my sister was not truly molested. 'Who did this to you?', I asked with a voice that could have been my loudest, but ended becoming one of the lowest pitched. 'K-o-r-e-d-e', she said amidst tears.

Synopsis: They live amongst us. some had the voice while the larger percentage are voiceless. I decided to speak for them. I have no regrets. Farewell, this sphere of vanity.
Friends, your comments and criticisms will be appreciated. Relax and enjoy

Why not me?
At intervals, drops of the salty liquid that got lucky enough to escape the adhesion offered by the barren cheek of mine kissed the surface of the earth. Hoping to see the one text message I've longed for as soon as I get hold of the phone I left at home when I went out for the not-too-fulfilling game of round leather (You might prefer the world soccer or football). Taking few seconds to greet the jobless adults under the Odan tree playing the game of 'Ayo', I moved closer to my father's house which was about five kilometres from the stony piece of land that served as our football field. I had barely passed them by when I started to reflect on why I should accord them such respect. One thing I can never forget about Mr. James (My further mathematics teacher), even though his subject sucks was his popular saying; 'show me a man that knows what I don't know and I will show you a man I respect'. I don't see any reason I should accord them such regard beyond our social-cultural norms and values that forbade the young from disrespecting the old. At least, passing by without greeting means disrespect. They are jobless and at the moment, I am. So, I presume we are equals. The only excuse they give whoever cares to listen is the bad economic situation of the country they blame on the government and at this level, the local government chairman that never kept any of his campaign promises. Well, my greatest concern at that moment was not their idleness, it's all about gaining admission into the prestigious University of Lagos.
I left Igbobi grammar school at the early age of seventeen. Yes..... I mean early, because I was one of the youngest in the class by the time I wrote SSCE. In the outside world, I left late but as the good African saying has it; ' A one eyed individual is the best in the land of the blind'. Local champion? Maybe. Kola, the toughest of my clique has a very strict dad that works in Lagos and only comes home at the end of the week. I've heard a whole lot from him about how money adorned the streets of Lagos, how easy it is for you to get hooked up with any lady of your choice as long as you have money. The splendour of Lagos I had imagined is less a driving force to see the big city than the urge to have my first date and probably get laid as soon as possible. Even though, stories about Kola and Segun's exploits in the classrooms of the community's primary school were enough to bring out the dog in me, but the egoistic me had no patience for the hard to get stunts of the female folks in my area. I'm a naturally proud, arrrogant snd stubborn individual and I've always conceived the notion that a lady that says no on first attempt is not meant for me. I got turned down several times and each time we discussed girls in the neighbourhood, I keep mute. There was a day Segun really got under my skin after giving them 'The fear of God' as the reason I don't have a girlfriend yet. 'Don't worry, your pastor will be kind enough to give you the manual on your wedding day', he teased. I was so angry that I had a scuffle with them. The victim of the transferred aggression was Joke that slapped me on that fateful day after a boring line of toasting. I

To be continued.......

ONE
"Ladies and gentlemen, this is to announce the arrival of flight 231, landing in five minutes. I repeat, landing in five minutes."
The distinct female voice pierce the surrounding air of the Murtala Muhammed airport. As a norm, families and friends were seen waiting impatiently for the arrival of their relatives. Friends anxiously waiting to behold a presumd bulkier figure than the one they waved for the last time, a very long time ago, families happy that a worthy breadwinner of the family has arrived if the expected had struggled to make it out of the country. The feeling might be different, if the sojourner had made the journey the easy way because such family might be happy their kid made it back to his father's land in one piece.
Regardless of the kind of people awaiting an arrival, it's safe to say only few could have awaited an arrival in a sad mood.
The information from the airport's public address system was taken as the gospel by the people awaiting arrival as they vacated their seat before the announcer could say; 'I repeat'. This was followed by the movement of the expectants towards the terminal where the plane is expected to come to a final halt. Ignoring the scanty rainfall that could hardly soak a tissue paper, Rafael among other people moved to the ter minal to receive his friend.
Rafael could not understand what is happening. Why is he the only one doing this for his friend. "There is no doubt we've been best of friends, but doesn't it call for reasonable thought that his parents are not here?", he thought as he moved towards the terminal being the second to the last person from the rear as about twenty people move to the terminal. He knew something is not right, going by their last conversation and the last text message he sent to him that morning. He brought out his Nokia C3 cell phone, scrolled with the D-pad to the message icon and down to the inbox. He clicked on 'Rambo'. 'Please, keep this a secret for now, you can't tell anyone yet. Our plane should land by 1100 hours Nigerian time". He read the message again as he approached the terminal. "Whatever it is, he'll tell me when he gets out of that plane". He thought as he fixed his gaze on the decelerating plane as though the birdlike machine symbolises Rambo.

TITLE: BEYOND OUR REALM
Author: Elugoke Xahid
Dear readers, ur constructive criticisms and comments will always be appreciated as we go on with d story. Together, we can make this thread the bomb.
Synopsis: Just like flies caught in a web, he became totally clueless and woe betides him if he took the threat for a bluff. Obviously, he spilled the beans after weighing the options. Like an african he is, he made his blood the pro and his image the cons. With this decision, there might not be another time.........
The story commences later in the day. Cheers!

okay. expect episode 2 by tomorrow.15/04/2013

I wish to know what you think about this write-up. please, i'm waiting.

Packaging’ and ‘Dr. Gungo’: Two of a kind
This is a work of fiction. Resemblance with real life situation is mere coincidence

Season 1
Episode 1
‘Hei, my God wetin I wan do with this now. E be like say I go just sit down for my house jeje ni o. I no fit come and go and die for another man’s land all in the name of service to my fatherland. But I share part if not all the blame sha o. Na so na, na myself I suppose blame. If to say I don go service teytey, I sabi say this kind thing no go happen. But, that man sef do me wayo o. Anywhere you dey now, Dr..........’
Tunde momentarily came back from his long sojourn to the land of thoughts as the bus conveying him from Akure back to Lagos was stopped by a short man in a black Khaki outfit holding a shining black rod of barely a diameter of five centimetres and a length not very much greater than an arm’s length- A rod that has hardly harmed a fly in the last six months. From his look, one need not tell even a five year old Nigerian that the man is a member of the Nigerian police force. Tunde, sitting directly behind the driver unintentionally looked the man straight in the eye, but the latter moved his gaze away from Tunde’s direction in order to pay full attention to his client. Although, most of the passengers in the bus knew little or nothing about what had transpired between the duo within the first thirty seconds of the undesirable interruption of their voyage, but they understood fully when their driver finally said ‘market no dey and fuel don cost’. They were not surprised as proceedings didn’t fall short what they had earlier anticipated. Nigerian police and twenty naira, truly inseparable!
As the journey continued, Tunde could not but ponder over his life as an undergraduate. It was at this instant he realised how priceless the words of his father was. Tunde’s father, though not a very rich man, yet he is not a member of the lower class in the society. He could be considered as being some steps above the middle class. Mr. Fabiyi, Tunde’s father is an employee in a private firm at Lagos. He is an easygoing man who suffered a great deal before making it to the post of the assistant general manager of B&B holdings. More often than not he advises people that are younger (Tunde inclusive) to do what they had to do without hesitation because there might not be tomorrow. ‘Do whatever you have to do on time and don’t give way to bad company because bad company corrupts good manners’. These and many more were the wise words of Mr. Fabiyi that sounds to Tunde’s hearing most times like the noise of an old generating set that urgently needs the service of an engineer.
An oldman once said: “I don’t wish that you heed my warnings immediately I advice you, because you will only appreciate it better when you refuse to take to them and meet your water loo”. This exactly is the present situation Tunde had found himself. His father’s words now worth a billion to him, but from all indications it seems it’s almost late. Now, it’s just like crying when the head is off, more like campaigning after election and not too distant from the police emergence few hours after robbery.
Tunde, a brilliant boy from his day one in nursery school up to S.S.S 3 was one of the surprises of Mr. Taliat. Mr. Taliat was the chemistry Teacher of Exploit College where Tunde was once a student. When Tunde was in S.S.S 1, first term to be precise, he had dazed the chemistry teacher in one of the weekly quiz competition between S.S.S 3A & S.S.S3B. The last chemistry question was: what is catenation? The silence that followed the question could be likened to that of a grave yard located on the outskirt of a town. Nobody knew the answer. Surprisingly, a fresh S.S.S 1 student is raising his hand from the audience seat. Mr. Taliat, though sceptical about getting the right answer from S.S.S 1, gave Tunde the chance to express himself. ‘Yes, Fabiyi’ he said giving Tunde the signal to speak.
‘It’s the ability of carbon to form a long chain with itself’. He said
The entire hall was still silent. The students do not know if that was the correct answer. They were all waiting for Mr. Taliat to tell him to sit down, but on the contrary, he shouted “clap for him”. Mr. Taliat latter found out that he heard it from a T.V programme. Throughout his secondary school days, he was the best and the teachers hoped the sky would be his limit. Little wonder, while his mates were struggling with UTME, he passed it on the first attempt and effortlessly defied the next embargo – PostUTME. With such high hope in view, It’s sad (or can one not even say it’s not sad) that he struggled to graduate from the university.
Tunde could not help the tears coming out of his heavy eyes as the bus zooms on and on, he wished he had not met that bitch, ‘Gungo’ . He wished Gungo was not even his subordinate, let alone being his boss. “Haa, Dr. Gungo. Not only ‘Gungo’, I wish I had not met Tobi. I wish Kunle never knew I existed. Yet, worst of all, I wish ‘Gungo’ had died before I gained admission. Dr. Gungo, anywhere you dey now, na God go.....................

To be continued

Episode 2
‘Dr.Gungo, anywhere you dey now, na God go punish you’, he thought with the bitterness boldly written on his face.
The 14th day of January was Tunde’s first day on campus as a student of Federal University of Technology, Akure popularly referred to as FUTA. After walking few kilometres around the campus, moving from one office to the other, he came across a buttery very close to the ‘university bookshop’, he decided to quench his thirst which he seem not to have notice for the past one hour, given his tight schedule. He was about collecting his five naira change when a hand tapped him from the back. He looked back, and to his utter amazement, standing directly behind him was ‘smarto’. ‘Unbelievable! Smarto on this campus’, he said to himself before embracing him as he screamed ‘smarto! smarto!’
‘wetin you come do for this campus?’
‘Na me suppose dey ask you that kind question o. I bestalite now’, replied smarto
‘Stalite?’Tundeexpressed surprise, standing akimbo with his left hand on his hip and the right holding loosely the sachet of water.
Of course, he has every reason to be surprised because no one ever thought ‘smarto’ could make it to a Polytechnic, let alone being a student in a University of this calibre. Kunle, popularly known as ‘smarto’ during his days at Exploit College was the most stubborn student in the school in those days. Exploit College operates both boarding and day programme. Kunle and Tunde stay in the same block in the boys hostel. Kunle was a year ahead of Tunde. He is very fond of terrorising the students of the lower classes. He finds it interesting breaking rules and this gives the highest rank among his partners-in-crime. He breaks into the school orchard at will. To him, having sex with girls in classrooms at night is one of the things that make a ‘big boy’. Kunle has been getting away with a whole lot of indecencies before Uche’s saga.
Kunle has tried all possible means to have an illicit affair with Bimpe who stays at the female hostel but all to no avail. Infact, there was a time he started attending fellowship regularly, thinking Bimpe who was well known as a ‘spiritkoko’ (A name given to an incessant church goer). When he realised Bimpe was proving hard to get, he threatened to make life unbearable for Bimpe’s brother who was then in J.S.S 2 since there is nothing he could do to Bimpe, considering the fact that they are in the same class. Hoping Bimpe would take the bait, he waited for two weeks, but nothing changed. There was an Igbo guy called Uche that sells meet pie at the school entrance during the break. Kunle has approached Uche several times to have a meet pie free of charge claiming that Uche has to pay for space he occupies, but Uche has always refused bluntly, most times not without abusing Kunle.
‘You useless boy. Come carry everything. Na your papa give me the money for this business. Onyechi’, Uche will shout on Kunle on few occasions or worse still send him to Coventry.
Kunle took his time to punish both Uche and Bimpe (through her brother). ‘Killing two birds with a stone will be interesting’, he said to himself as he finished discussing his plan with his partners.
The entrance of Exploits College is very close to an untarred road which separates the gate from the bush on the other side of the road. Immediately after the bell goes for break, Kunle ordered one of his aides to carefully hide inside the bush and execute the first phase of the plan which is to shatter one of the rectangular glasses that make the box with which Uche displays hisgoods.
When a policeman slaps a man and later found out he had slapped a soldier’s son, he apologises by saying ‘I’m following orders’. In the same vein, Kunle’s aide followed orders and executed the plan in a more creative way by using a catapult.
‘Paaaaa! The fairly big stone hit the glass. At first, Uche almost took to his heels because it happened all of a sudden. While wondering who could have done it, a boy came around and said ‘it’s me’. Uche could not control his anger, he gave the boy the beating of his life. He slapped him as he kicked simultaneously. Uche was too furious to listen to the boy’s utterances. Luckily, a teacher was passing. He liberated the boy from Uche and dragged them both to the principal’s office.
‘How dare you beat up a student of this school?’ the principal shouted on top of his voice.
‘E break my glass’
‘What? Why did you do something as nasty as that?’ the principal inquired angrily facing the young boy whose eye is now swollen.
‘No. I didn’t break it. Uncle...........hmmmmm’
‘Uncle what? Speak up’. The principal shouted.
‘Uncle Kunle said I should go and tell him it’s me.’
Kunle had it all planned. Immediately the glass broke, he instructed the boy to go and tell Uche that ‘it’s me.’ Uche taught he was saying his mind and consequently pounced on him. The principal got angry and had him expelled. With all these in view, it was difficult for anyone to think Kunle made it to FUTA.
‘How you do am then?’ Tunde asked hoping to know how he did it.
‘O boy, I pass UTME anyhow sha and 200 na the cutoff for postUTME for people like you. No be people like me wey get person like my dad for back. With my 196, I carry head enter Physics o’
‘Na lie o. Sebi 200 na the cut off for postUTME.’ Tunde replied with surprise boldly written on his face.
‘I don tell you say na for people like you. Which department you come dey o? ’
‘Na Elect Elect I wan do but them give me Biochemistry’
‘Na you now. You go cope now.’smarto replied folding his arms.
Work started on the 21st day of January throughout the entire campus of FUTA..................
To Be continued................