Maimuna opened the door and enfolded her in a hug that should made her flatter than an ATM card, Dr. Ibrahim was smiling as he walked past them into the house, his arms laden with the fruits he’d stopped to buy at the market. Maimuna guided her inside and settled her on her favourite armchair – the one Yohanna had called her throne. Continue reading →
It was the way his khaki moulded his buttocks that first caught her eye, they weren’t big- the buttocks, they just seemed very firm. She imagined they were soldiers on sentry duty, each of them facing opposite directions, resolute in their calling to hold him upright. Her eyes trailed down to his orange jungle boots with its black base contrasting with the red sand of the market floor, she wondered briefly if the NYSC had given him this pair of khakis that were so tight that she could make out every muscle on his calf and thigh or if he had stood in front of a tailor, telling her to make them as snug as possible. Continue reading →
The last time I did a proper fiction series has to be in 2016, since then I’ve done a couple of random series that went nowhere. I’m starting a new series as promised in my last post and it’s set in Bida. It’s about a woman who has to make very tough choices at a difficult time in her life.
Enjoy the first episode and I hope you’ll enjoy the series and the characters I’ve created.
She hated the white walls of hospitals, why couldn’t they paint them something cheery and less sterile? Something like cotton candy-pink or purple like ripe wine grapes. Perhaps the colour of the wall wouldn’t bother her so much if this wasn’t the place where people came to die.
Only two paragraphs are fiction, can you guess which two?🤔
Na Coca-Cola cause this wahala.
An hour before I met him, I had been pleasantly surprised to be entering Onitsha without incident and walking along Upper Iweka clutching my bag without being harassed. I called out my destination to the bus conductors and they all kept saying I couldn’t find a direct bus at that time, I would have to break my journey. By the time the fifth bus pulled out, I decided to listen to them.
I’m getting married in September, all three ceremonies will hold in a ten-day window and there isn’t a cell in my body that hasn’t been replaced with nervous energy, I’m so burnt out by wedding preparations that if you say ‘Wedding’ near me, I might just shoot you. Actually, I would slap you. I don’t carry a gun about.
Don’t look at me like that. Continue reading →
There is a time in a woman’s life when it becomes shameful to still ask who her parents are instead of asking who married her. This is because a woman is like an exotic bird that flourishes best in captivity with the eye of a careful groom, it sings thrilling songs for the ears of her master only. She… Continue reading →
Continued from Husband Wanted – 1
She watched them from the window, stomach churning, as her wild heartbeat made her faintly afraid she was about to have a heart attack. If only she would be so lucky, a heart attack would get her out of this farce.
It was hard to count the number of men who turned up for this joke that had gotten far out of hand. Were there a hundred men out there? Two hundred? Three hundred Spartan warriors seeking a wife? She covered her face with her hands and exhaled. Continue reading →