₦airaland Forum

Business trudged along today; could this mean that no one wanted to eat anything today? This week has been somehow generally—my mother had lost her wares at the market, my brother had nearly drowned in the village stream, and now this? Were these omens of a greater evil to come? The gods forbid!

I cleared the few plates that were used to eat today, and went to the business of washing them. As I cleaned the grime from the utensils, my mind wandered to the events before my elder brother’s demise. He had fallen from a palm tree during one of his usual morning taps, and was bedridden for four months. All the healers of our community and the neighbouring ones couldn’t help him; they had declared his case in the hands of the gods.

Then one night, he grew worse; he was moaning and his breathing came out in short, sharp breaths. I was outside when this was happening. I had looked up at the ukwa tree in front of our compound and there perched a huge black owl. It had big white eyes, deathly eyes—and they stared directly into my frightened eyes. In our village, seeing an owl meant that something evil would happen. And evil did happen.

My elder brother, Obinna died in the wake of the morning after suffering the pains of his fall for over four months. So what did these bad lucks mean? I seriously hoped that it was nothing serious.

I finished washing up and locked up my shop, heading home. I did not want to take my usual route home today. There was no need revisiting the past memories that path brought. Ujunwa. Just the name alone brought them all back. It was still so painful, so raw.

We had been so much in love that everything seemed attainable. She was the light of my world and I was the moon in her night. Everything was so beautiful, so perfect. Till the prince came. He was the prince of the neighbouring kingdom, and had picked an interest in her. Soon, we saw less of each other. Whenever I complained, she would claim that she was busy with one thing or the other. I suspected something was wrong, but I couldn’t put it down to the prince.

Till it was too late; till she informed me that she was getting married to him. She had found in him her soul mate, she couldn’t continue with what we were doing.

“What are we doing then?” I had asked, shock still reverberating through me.

“I… I don’t know anymore. I just can’t continue with you when my heart has been taken by… by another man.”

“Is it because I don’t have his kind of wealth? Was our love dependent on such things?”

“Oh, Anayo, it’s not what you think. It is more complicated than that.”

Read more ➡️ https://www.thezenpens.com/2018/12/27/we-met-a-short-story-by-somtoochukwu-benedict-ezioha/

16th September, 2765,


As one of those in the Elite Cure Corp, Dan supposed he should not complain about the job he was sent to do, but hell, he did complain. This wasn’t the normal job he was used to as part of the now defunct World Peace Corps. Then, he was assigned to maintaining order in the Eclipse Sector of the planet, which involved hassles with drug dealers, pimps, and the occasional religious uprisings.

Now, he and his ten-man team were on a manhunt, or more aptly put, a robo-hunt. On a search for the most dangerous of all the infected robots. According to reports, it could interfere with the normal electro-biological communications, which was developed during the first wave of the contagion. And as team leader, he had the double task of taking out Vamp H¹, as the robotic virus was known, and making sure he got his team back, well, most of them.

“ETA is in twenty minutes!” Burly Jack, their command pilot shouted over the whir of the canon jet. They did their final equipment checks and primed themselves for what would be the most crucial mission in the history of humanity. Should they fail, it would spell the doom of the human race.

All this could have been prevented, Dan thought, if the first generation of humanots were exterminated as decided by the United Nations. Instead, a group of fanatical scientists had hidden seven of them—the Seven Sisters of the Apocalypse. This was discovered when they had been infected by an electro-biological virus. This virus turned those robots against humans, transforming them into the perfect killing machines.

This had started in the year 2457, and over the next two hundred years, the population of humans reduced drastically. It was now seen as the end of humanity, the long-awaited Apocalypse. Humans went into hiding, constructed intricate tunnel systems to keep them safe. But these strongholds were infiltrated nonetheless, and humans were on the brink of extinction.

How did these robots evolve so quickly and out of control? Speculations were that the contagion was an elaborate design by the elites of the world to curtail the exploding human population, others opined that it was a plan by some techno-extremists to establish a New World Order. Whatever the case, it was a situation that demanded immediate action. Thus the Elite Cure Corp was inaugurated. Their task was simple—bring an end to this threat.

As Dan recalled, they would have succeeded, had it not been for the final evolution of a rogue robot, the Vamp H¹. That was two years before he enlisted as a member of this Corp. But before the humanot could be killed, it went underground. All efforts to locate it were futile. Yet it had such an intricate network of operations which continued to wreck terror on humans.

They had received intel that it was holed in the Vance Plains in the Antarctic. This would be the last mission, Dan vowed. It had taken too much. He looked at the glassy white desert that suddenly appeared below and his blood pumped with adrenaline. The jet hovered at about fifty feet in the air as they climb down using a ladder. They would have landed, but they were cautious in not alerting the robot. Though they had high-tech surveillance blocking techniques, still, they didn’t want to take chances.

As they touched down, they immediately arranged themselves into an attack position in the form of a pentagram, with two people side by side. Each person had a variety of sensors designed to locate their foe. And at the moment, it was pointing towards an unknown part of the vast ice desert. They broke into a sprint, all the while, maintaining their formation and relying on their health dials to keep their body regulated.

Shortly, they arrived at the place where their geo-locator pinpointed. It was dome-like structure constructed like a twentieth-century church. It had high columns and a sturdy base. It looked too ordinary to harbour such a menace. But it did, Dan was sure of that. He had dedicated his life to making sure these viruses were eradicated after his wife and son were killed in an attack by one of them. After their death, he had joined the Elite Cure Corp and had quickly risen through the ranks.

Read more ➡️ https://www.thezenpens.com/2018/12/24/robo-ticks-a-flash-fiction-by-somtoochukwu-benedict-ezioha/

Trust me, having a best friend who was a superstitious freak isn’t fun at all. You get to hear how everything little thing that happens is either premeditated in the great cosmic design or some danger to your destiny. What is destiny, anyway? And who believes in such hogwash these days? Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you—Mark, my best friend who believes in omens, tarots, herbalists, and—can you believe it?—fortune-tellers. Which was were he was dragging me to. This guy is impossible!

Don’t get me wrong here, I totally accept whatever anyone chooses to believe, but when you try to drag me into it, that’s when I get really pissed off. What’s wrong with not believing in such concoctions of people who have devised intricate methods of cobwebbing the minds of people?

Mark had been trying to bring me to this woman he claims ‘would tell me why I was so unlucky in love’ for as long as I can remember. But today, it seems like he had steamrolled me with counter points on why I should, at least, pay her a visit. So voilà, here we are.

We went in his Lexus RX 360 which he had bought new (courtesy of the new good luck charm he wore around his neck, or so he claims). I’d never been to this part of the city. Here, you could easily get lost among the various similar looking streets about. At every corner, there seemed to be ten or so shops sprawled about. The shops were built as if the builders had no interest of the occupants at heart. They were shabby and looked as if they would crumble at any time.

The number of people milling about the streets here defied belief. Thousands of faces crisscrossed each other with seeming indifference. If you took a kid to this place, you’d better be careful, or the child would be lost. As I was ruminating over these features of this strange place, Mark pulled over in front of a nondescript shop with red and white clothes tied all around it.

“Here we are,” he announced, as he jumped down. I also came down and joined him as he entered the shop. As I entered, I had the distinct feeling that cobwebs were on my hair. Frantically, I raked my hands through my hair, but nothing was there. Was my mind playing tricks on me?

Read more ➡️ https://www.thezenpens.com/2018/12/23/unlock-the-stars-a-short-story-by-somtoochukwu-benedict-ezioha/

Thank you.

Gabrendo:
Reminds me of those stories from our childhood. Nice one.

For as long as I could remember, I was disabled. And that was tough, not only because I was the only one among my four siblings (all girls, except for our eldest, a boy), and being in the middle didn’t help. No, the other reason was because my mother despised me. She saw me as an aberration in her perfect family. Many people speak of a mother’s love—how it’s warm and encompassing, how it is never ending and understanding, how it makes you strong and dauntless. I never felt any of these, at least not directly. The only love I had from my mother was the little warmth of love that oozed from the ones she showered on my siblings.

Thanks to God, my father was different. I don’t know what would have become of me if not for him. For him, I was the apple of his eyes, his golden daughter. My frailty, instead of pushing him away, brought him closer to me. He thought me everything I knew. It was also from him that I learned what happened to me, and why my mother hated me so much.

According to him, I was born okay, everything checked out perfectly. But then, one day, she took me with her for shopping. When she was done and was about to cross the road to her car, my pram was hit by an incoming vehicle and I was thrown into a nearby gutter, where I hit my spine on the edge of the gutter. I was taken to various hospitals, but the pronouncement was the same: I would never walk again, I was confined to a wheelchair forever.

My mother, being a perfectionist, never accepted that fact. She wanted someone to bear the blame for what befell me, and I was the sorry scapegoat. She always pointed out to me that I was a dent in the image of the family, that I should be grateful for those who still cared for a ‘spineless girl’. As if it was my fault.

Now, at age twenty-six, I still live with my parents, without hope of ever being on my own. Many times I’ve asked my only friend, a Catholic priest, why God allowed such a thing to happen to me. One day he said something, “A wise man once said that God cannot allow evil to exist if He cannot, out of that evil, bring out something good.” Some days I believe him, other days, when the pain and agony of being so alone became crushing, I chose not to believe him. Why should I?

Read more ➡️ https://www.thezenpens.com/2018/12/22/try-to-see-the-good-things-a-short-story-by-somtoochukwu-benedict-ezioha/

We had the quintessential childhood—vacations when we wanted, we went to the best schools, had the most memorable outings. We really enjoyed, I and my sister. Our parents doted on us, and gave us all we wanted; well, there’s no gainsaying the fact that my family was rich. The only mar on my childhood experience was the day I ignited my sister’s hair while we were playing. My father gave me the flogging of my life, afterwards, I developed pyrophobia.

As with good things, it eventually came to an end. I was twelve then, so I barely understood what was going on then. It was harder for my sister, who was eight, to comprehend.

“Why are Daddy and Mommy fighting, Andy?” she usually asked, until she too understood that my family was going through a storm.

All I can say was that it started the day some men came and took Dad away. They were huge men, clad in black suits and wore black shades. None of them smiled, they had stony faces. They had taken Dad away in a police vehicle. I had asked Mom where they were taking Dad, as he was screaming and cursing when he was led out.

“Don’t worry honey, Daddy will be back soon,” she said, forcing a smile. I knew she was upset. The tension in her body was palpable.

“Is Daddy a bad man, Mommy?” my sister, ever honest, ever open, asked. She was never one to mince words.

“No, my dear. They just want to ask Daddy some questions,” my mom, promptly replied, quelling Ada’s fears.

In the end, it took two weeks for Daddy to return. He came back looking like a shadow of himself. He had grown tattered beards and his eyes were sunken. We never knew that we would never have our father back again.

After the coming of the men in black, everything changed. We got no more gifts, no more surprise packages. Whenever we asked for something, what we got was:

“There is no money.” My father said that so many times, that it became his mantra. And my mother grew bitter and very violent. She never seemed to have our time again. What a change, so swift! It was as if a magician waved his wand, and then poof! My perfect life was gone.

One day Daddy came home very late, dead drunk. My mother, who had been itching for a quarrel with him, pounced on him and was asking where he was coming back from. He did not reply as he staggered to his room (they had also, of late, started sleeping in separate rooms). But my mother gave him no rest. She pursued him, calling him a thief and a 419-er.

Read more ➡️ https://www.thezenpens.com/2018/12/21/my-family-my-special-unit-a-short-story-by-somtoochukwu-benedict-ezioha/

Adulthood is a trick—no, let me use a better word, adulthood is a scam. Everything about it is a façade, nothing is as it seems. Why wasn’t I told about this? And to think that I was rushing to grow up—surprise! You’ve just been hoodwinked.

Well, let me frank—as my name is—there are some things about this stage of life that is real. Quite a few of them. And they aren’t funny at all. You’ve got the financial stress, emotional quagmire, social meltdown, health struggles, and did I forget the fact that you live a lie?

Seriously, I need to stop yabbering, and tell you why I decided to narrate this story, my story. It’s one story you need to know about, because it affects you too. Let’s see why.

My name is Frank Segun Balogun, a graduate of Mass Communication. Let me not mention my Alma Mater, it’s not relevant. I left the four walls of the university four years ago (it rhymes, right?—Four walls, four years?). When I graduated, I had this high expectation, this soaring hope that very soon, I’ll be living the adult life. Boy, I couldn’t wait to land my first job.

Do you know what? As I’m talking, I haven’t even seen half a job. Haha, so much for aspirations. But I’m used to it, used to living by the day, not hoping for too much. Because too much hope can hurt. Focus Frank! You’re talking to someone!

As I was saying, when I graduated, I got to know what being an adult really meant. It started few months after, when I was broke and was looking for a way to earn. My parents had subtly hinted that my allowance had to be reduced to enable them cater for my four younger siblings. I applied everywhere I could—news agencies, banks, studios, schools, you name it. But I got zilch. My qualifications weren’t up to what they wanted, they had said.

To add to that, my mates, those who went to ‘hustle’, made it big. They had become rich, while I was chasing a job. What was wrong with me? Was I cursed?

Read more ➡️ https://www.thezenpens.com/2018/12/19/our-big-rush-a-flash-fiction-by-somtoochukwu-benedict-ezioha/

This morning is so beautiful, the sun is dazzling in its reddish glow, its hue adding a magnificent allure to waking up today. I normally do not prescribe to rising early—I’m lazy, I know. But I am rousted by the breath of fresh air mingling with the scent of the delicious aroma assaulting my nostrils. My mother is at it again. She’s that good, the best cook in the world.

I think of what to do today, nothing readily comes to mind; this is one of the problems I have with what I am, I have too much time on my hands. I sneak into the kitchen, the wafts of the tantalizing chicken sauce automatically conjures up a river in my mouth. I love Sundays—my mom spoils us silly.

As I scoop some of the sauce to sample, I hear shouts emanating from the street below. My super senses pick up the gloomy aura down below. I know I must investigate. Throwing a shirt over my torso, I jump into a faded jean trouser and take the steps three at a time.

The closer I get to the scene, the more the pallor of death looms. I reach outside and gasp at what happened. It was an accident. I edge closer to a bystander, a woman and inquire about what had occurred.

“An accident,” she answers, sniffing quietly. “A whole family dead. Such a waste.”

While she laments, I notice a dark spectre floating by the roadside. I recognize what it is instantly. “It’s been a while Death,” I say.

Read more ➡️ https://www.thezenpens.com/2018/12/19/a-deal-with-death-a-flash-fiction-by-somtoochukwu-benedict-ezioha/

She would never forget the first time it happened. How could she when the horror, and the stench, and the shame of it were always with her? And she would never forgive him. Over her frozen corpse. But that was not what brought back these locked up memories, no, it was the sudden realization that her parents thought she was living the glorious life they envisioned when they sent her here.

They—her parents—had wanted the best for her. And with that burning love, she was told to live with her aunt who had promised her all the things she’d only wished for in her father’s house. She had been promised decent food, a nice and comfortable room and most importantly, quality education. Everyone said that she had a bright future, and that required a sound education.

Well, to her credit, her aunt had trained her in the top-notch schools in the area up to her second year in the university. She had treated her the same way she treated her children. But with all the information they gave her about this place, this hell on earth, no one had told her about this monster of a man—her aunt’s husband. He was the perfect definition of malevolence.

As she mopped the living room, she was hit by a tsunami of painful memories. Her mind drifted to the first time he did it. She was cleaning the their room (the room he shared with his wife). So intent was she on her task that she never noticed him as he crept in. Not until he grabbed her by the waist and flung her on the bed. He leapt on top of her and her fight for survival ensued. She flapped her hands on his face and chest, scratching and punching him. But all those her struggles were futile; he was much stronger and with his eyes glazed over by naked lust, she knew that he would achieve what he wanted.

When it dawned on her that she couldn’t flip him over, in a last effort, she pleaded, oh she did plead, imploring him to remember his wife and the fact that he was her uncle. All these fell on deaf ears.

He tore her clothes off her body, and with a superhuman strength, ripped off her underwear. Fear set her hands into a frenzy of punches and scratches. He gripped her hands and pinned them under his knees as he nudged her thighs apart with his hands. Then pulling down his trouser, he brought out his throbbing member.

Read more ➡️ https://www.thezenpens.com/2018/12/18/spawn-of-the-devil-a-short-story-by-somtoochukwu-benedict-ezioha/

Many who judge the people that commit suicide do not just understand. They were not in their shoes, going through the debilitating memories, the soul-crushing moments of quiet solitude until the pain, the anguish, the sorrow reaches a crescendo which sees them keeling over. Yes, they don’t understand.

Of course I probably wouldn’t understand too if not for her. She opened my eyes to hell on earth. She killed me.

Flashback to my second year when I met her. I saw her and knew I was hooked. She was perfect. Five-foot eight inches of well-structured physique passed me and I rushed to her. Like a powerful magnet she drew me to her. One thing led to the other and we exchanged contacts.

Suffice it to say that we started dating and during the time we dated, everything about me changed. To the worse. I hardly read, spent extravagantly and it was always on her. I even shunned the company of my friends.

This continued for three years. Then one day as I came back to the room I was sharing with my best friend Michael, I got the biggest shock of my life. Michael showed me her Facebook post. She was married! I felt as if I was shot straight at the heart. I couldn’t breathe.

Read more ➡️ https://www.thezenpens.com/2018/12/16/rebirth-a-flash-fiction-by-somtoochukwu-benedict-ezioha/

We are all the same, all of us, we are all hypocrites. But do you know the difference? Some of us know and accept that fact; the others, well… the illusion of being pristine in the eyes of all is too good to forgo. To those who’d already accepted and are working on their faults, I say a big kudos. You guys do not understand the light you carry with you. As for those who pretend, well…

This story isn’t about one of those who are working on themselves. Nope, this story is about one of those who maintain a façade of being holier-than-thou; this is a story about me. In the eyes of the world, I’m a very reasonable, no-nonsense, saintly fellow. And I worked hard to maintain that mirage, that image. But that was all it was… a mirage, a trick of the mind I use to make sure that no one sees me for what I really am — a hopeless hypocrite.

I tell this tale with the aim of seeking apology. From a dear friend and brother who I wronged terribly. Being also a coward, I cannot muster the courage to face him and make the necessary reparations; but I hope this goes a long way in showing him that I’ve realized the error of my actions.

Let me quickly tell you what happened. We were close friends for over ten years. We were poor together, and together we became rich, overcoming the hurdles life put in front of us. But then when life gave us — me — the biggest test, I failed, woefully. His name is Andrew Okaro or Andy as I used to call him. He was caught pants down with his secretary. Around the time, he was a successful businessman, but after he was caught, his finances plummeted. His wife divorced him, and despite his explanations, no one cared to listen. He was bad, period! What else was there to say?

Read more ➡️ https://www.thezenpens.com/2018/12/08/this-side-of-my-skin-a-short-story-by-somtoochukwu-benedict-ezioha/

I was running through the bushes behind Mazi Uwa’s compound, and my hands were full with the udara fruits I’ve managed to pluck; behind me, I could hear him shouting my name, and cursing at the same time.

“Come back here this good-for-nothing boy! Why have you chosen to torment me all the time?” he shouted as he chased me. I knew that he couldn’t catch me even if I crawled, he was so old, but that didn’t deter him. I rounded a corner and soon his voice wasn’t audible. I’d lost him again.

I ran towards the stream, wanting to wash myself before heading home. As I untied my wrapper, I heard sniffles coming from behind one of the trees along the bank of the stream. Ever curious, I retired my cloth and went to investigate. As I approached, I became sure that someone was crying; and when I reached the tree, I saw a girl huddled behind the tree, her head on her knees.

I touched her arm and with teary eyes, she looked up at me. Her eyes were full of immense sadness and loneliness. My heart went out to her immediately.

“Young girl, why are you crying?” I asked, careful to keep my distance from her so as not to scare her. But she didn’t reply. Instead she increased the tempo of her cries. I then risked getting close to her and helping her up her feet. As I did so, her feet have way and she landed on my bare chest, her palms were wet with tears and her lips were quivering with barely controlled weeping.

“What is your name?”

“Nnenna,” she answered, still sniffing.

“My dear, talk to me. I won’t hurt you OK?”

When she nodded, I continued, “Why are you crying?”

“It’s my parents. They want me to get married to a man I don’t want to marry,” she answered. Her eyes were bloodshot and saliva was coming out from the corners of her mouth. I used to hem of my wrapper to wipe it off.

Read more ➡️ https://www.thezenpens.com/2018/12/08/season-of-the-udara-a-short-story-by-somtoochukwu-benedict-ezioha/

I wasn’t a hero — or heroine in my case. I was a scaredy cat, always shying away from any form of trouble or altercation. I never even shouted. So when I got the email newsletter from Pro Earth, I didn’t give it second thought.

Subscribing for their newsletter was even a mistake; one of those ads that pop up recklessly while you were busy browsing about important stuffs.

Pro Earth was an organization that advocated for policies and laws favouring the protection of the planet. They were among the very first of such organizations in Nigeria. Their modus operandi even put me off the more —they engaged in protests. Oh no! Count me out, entirely.

But my life was turned around when I logged into my Facebook account. Such a simple act, right?

I’d logged in and saw that Kosy Onu, my celebrity crush had posted about going to the next Pro Earth protest! What a life. I’ve had a huge crush on this actor/musician/model since the time I first saw him on the TV. Plans had to be changed. I went back to the email, applied for a space at the protest and prayed to be accepted.

Then I left for work. I worked in a catering company. We had an event scheduled later that day. But my mind was on my email application. What was the odds that I got the space and eventually got to meet Kosy? One part of my mind was telling me to be realistic, the other was saying that you never knew what would happen.

“Nkechi!” shouted my supervisor, “Are you going to moon all day over God knows what or are you going to prepare these dishes for transport?” Mrs. Nkoli was a bull of a woman, she was immovable and her voice blared all over the room like some steam engine.

“I’ll get them ready madam,” I said and promptly composed myself. Why was I acting like this?

Read more ➡️ https://www.thezenpens.com/2018/12/07/spirit-of-the-earth-a-short-story-by-somtoochukwu-benedict-ezioha/

Thank you very much. You too can learn how to write well. If you are interested, send me a WhatsApp message here: https:///2348167509915.

AVECDEO:
Impressive.
I saw the words were transformed to and seen as visions in my mind. Wish I could write out my thoughts just like this...I have so much to pen.

It's a short story. You can finish reading it with the link. Thank you.

nkemdave:
My gut tells me that this story is gonna make sense...
Patiently waiting for your next update

The sound of the morning traffic woke me up. I stood, yawned and stretched, went to the mirror and froze. I couldn’t understand what faced me in the full length mirror. I rushed to the kitchen (which was closer to me than the bathroom), splashed some water on my face and came back to confirm what I saw earlier.

The image I saw was that of horror. I was ten years younger! Physically, at least. I tried to remember the events of the past years and they came rushing back. It was stupefying; I was trapped inside my seven year old body. What had happened?

Slowly, I went through events of the previous night. Nothing had happened, that was for sure. Well, not counting the fact that… Oh no! It couldn’t be. Please God, tell me this was my mind playing tricks on me. I dialed my best friend, Stan’s number. He picked up on the fifth ring.

“Hello,” he was still groggy from last night’s drinking spree.

“Hey Stan. It’s me Kelvin. Stan, I’m in some big shit.”

“Trouble?”

“Big shit means trouble, you dumb ass! How soon can you get here?”

“Ah… I’m not sure I can come to your place. I’ve got some things to tidy up.

“C’mon man, I really need your help,” I begged. This was really crazy. How can I sound like this when my body is seven?

Read more ➡️ https://www.thezenpens.com/2018/12/05/i-woke-up-ten-years-younger-a-short-story-by-somtoochukwu-benedict-ezioha/

Will you marry me, Somtoo?” she asked as she knelt before me.

What was this girl doing? Why was she embarrassing both herself and I? Now, everyone was looking at me, anticipating my reply. Why was she so impatient?

We were at her friend, Chioma’s engagement party and even though she and everyone had been expecting me to pop the question at her, I just wasn’t able to do it. Don’t ask me why. And now, she had taken the bull by the horns; she had done what her man couldn’t do. Wasn’t there a saying to that effect? What a man can do…

Anyway, I just could not allow her to kneel forever. She needed an answer everyone needed an answer, and somehow, even I needed the answer.

But what jumped out of my mouth was, “No. I can’t do it.” And then I left. The last time I saw Anita, she was looking very devastated, like someone who had a head-on collision with a speed train. The image would haunt me for a long time to come.

Read more ➡️ https://www.thezenpens.com/2018/12/04/ghost-of-my-errors-a-flash-fiction-by-somtoochukwu-benedict-ezioha/

I had what most of my mates craved for. I had the money, the cars, the women, the flashy lifestyle, everything. But I had no peace; it was all vanity. You know, when people mentioned the word ‘vanity’, I used to think that they were mediocre people without ambitions and drive to succeed. But I was terribly wrong. Vanity, is the summation of my current situation in life.

I had been born by parents who were modest in all their dealings. Even their means of livelihood were modest. Early in life, my father had drummed it into me that I should not be swayed by money and titles, that all those things were vanity. I thought that I listened to him, till I came into the university. The university is a place to make or mar someone’s life.

Immediately I came in, I was amazed at how young boys drove expensive, flashy cars. What attracted me most to their life was how girls seemed to jump at them. I determined to be amongst these guys who had all the money and power in school.

I had a tough time befriending one of them, but in the end, I was his pseudo-friend. He would take me to parties, buy anything I ordered, and spend lavishly without batting an eyelid. I kept on pestering him to ‘show me the way’ but he was adept in deflecting my questions. Till one day.

Read more ➡️ https://www.thezenpens.com/2018/12/03/boy-lost-in-the-city-a-short-story-by-somtoochukwu-benedict-ezioha/

He was an average, inconspicuous man. He had a bald head with small beady eyes and thick, long lashes. He had a long aquiline nose on which rested very expensive gold rimmed spectacles. He was wearing a black frock with a white collar. He was a priest! It was unbelievable. I never would have come here if I knew that I would meet a priest.
I had come here thinking that I would meet a real doctor, but instead it seems I came for a confession. Why would a priest claim to be a love doctor? You see, I had this terrible sickness that needed a cure. I’d tried so many things in hopes that I would be all right. But each remedy was fake, each was a trick. My sickness persisted.
“Good afternoon, young man,“ he said, with a wide smile that stretched the length of his tranquil face. “How may I be of use to you?”
Without knowing why, I became rude to him. Perhaps, because I was still surprised to see a priest posing as a love doctor. I answered, “You tell me. The advert said you had the remedy to cure the problem of love.”
“Indeed, I do. But people come to me for different reasons, so permit me to ask: have you come here seeking for the remedy for love, or is there something else that you came for?”
The way he was so calm, so collected in asking and answering questions rankled me. But since he was playing a game of being calm, I decided to play it too. Two people can play the game as well as one.
“I seek the remedy for love,” I replied, and to further disrupt his composure, I asked, “How much does it cost?”

Read more ➡️ https://www.thezenpens.com/2018/11/30/the-remedy-for-love-a-short-story-by-somtoochukwu-benedict-ezioha/

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Here's an opportunity to push your writing career to the next level and join the ranks of the great writers who have been recognized internationally.

I am talking about the 2021 Commonwealth Short Story Prize.

This prize needs no introduction. It is one that has enabled its winners to go on and become internationally acclaimed writers. And with a mouth-watering cash prize of £2500 for the regional winners and a jaw-dropping £5000, this is an opportunity you do not want to miss.

To participate, visit https://www.thezenpens.com/2020/09/01/the-2021-commonwealth-short-story-prize-for-commonwealth-countries/

*Yesterday evening, the ZenPens Executives had a meeting to discuss the requests by many writers who were asking for an extension of the deadline for the submission for the ZenPens Anthology.*

*After our deliberations, we finally decided to extend the deadline for the submission by 20 days; so the new deadline is 20th September, 2020.*

*This anthology is a historic one. Be a part of it.*

*Regards, ZenPens.*

For more details, visit https://www.thezenpens.com/2020/07/24/the-zenpens-maiden-anthology/

This story revolves around the lives of Linda, Lizzy, Jessica and Michael. Michael is the boyfriend of Linda who left for India on a long term course. The heartbroken Linda took solace in the past good times they had as she waited patiently for his return.An incident led to her getting a big scar on her face just when Michael was about to return.

The pained Linda could not stand the shame of letting her long gone boyfriend see her with that scar because she thought he wouldn’t love her anymore.

She had her identical twin sister to impersonate her as Michael arrived.Jessica is Lizzy's best friend, but betrayed her during their school days with Lizzy’s boyfriend, John. She met the twins again later after year and she played a very big part on destroying their lives.

How long can it go on? What happens after her sister who was supposed to pretend falls in love with her boyfriend? What happens to Jessica later after she found the twins?

The story is about love that turned to hatred, about pain, betrayal and revenge.

Download and Read ➡️ https://www.thezenpens.com/2020/08/27/linda-and-lizzy-a-novel-by-alex-bella/

One Man Army is a novel filled with revenge. Jason’s father was brutally murdered. Years after he trained himself and became an assassin. He takes care of corrupt politicians until he stumbled upon one which gave him a lead to those who murdered his father.

He worked tirelessly, never giving up until he found out each one involved and took his revenge.

Was it easy? Did he come across obstacles? Read the full novel!

Download and Read ➡️ https://www.thezenpens.com/2020/08/24/one-man-army-a-novel-by-oladimeji-abubakar/

About 4.5 million years ago, in a declining forest in East Africa, the Earth witnessed something that had never happened in its 13.49 billion years of existence. This event while seemingly insignificant, will change the course of the planet's history forever.

I'm talking about the evolution of humans.

Now, I'm not here to debate about whether evolution happened or not (because there are some people here who do not have the same conviction I have about the veracity of evolution); I simply started this way because it is necessary for the journey we are going to take down the roads of history.

Africa has always been a fascinating place; it is the second largest continent on the planet, has 54 countries with about 5000 different languages. These speak of the amazing people living in it with diverse origins and cultures.

In the modern world, Africa is seen as a backward continent, with little to no technological advancements. (I use the term "advancement" to mean "innovation". Africa is hardly a place where new inventions are birthed.) Most (if not all the countries in Africa) are third world countries, which means that we are "in the past".

But did you know that things were not always like this?

Scientists believe that by 200,000 years ago, some group of humans crossed into the continent of Asia, colonized it and eventually spread out to Europe and eventually the Americas.

The African continent has seen a lot of things, from having a large number of its inhabitants shipped off to slavery, to having the descendants of the people who left the continent colonize its citizens, it has seen it all.

Africa has also been home to some of the most amazing civilizations on the planet. Of course we all know about the Egyptian civilization, but there are many others that testify to the greatness of this continent and its inhabitants.

Here are seven of the lesser known civilizations of ancient Africa:


Read more ➡️
https://www.thezenpens.com/2020/08/15/the-cradle-of-human-civilization-7-ancient-african-civilizations-an-article-by-aquamarine/

See full details here: https://www.thezenpens.com/2020/07/24/the-zenpens-maiden-anthology/

Upcoming Writing Contests ➡️

» Kindle Storyteller Award — £20,000 (https:///2OI6YcT)

Deadline: 31st August, 2020.


» Rebecca Swift Foundation Women's Poetry Prize 2020 —£1,000 (https:///30x1tDe)

Deadline: 14th August, 2020.


» The Queryletter.com Writing Contest —$500 (https:///32IPJjW)

Deadline: 15th September, 2020.


» The Val Wood Prize 2020: The Next Chapter — £100 (https:///3fOZ5hL)

Deadline: 31st August, 2020.


» Hysteria Writing Competition — £25 (https:///32FQfPo)

Deadline: 31st August, 2020.