Haruna drew lines on his forearm with his left index finger as he waited for Yobe to finish his prayers. Haruna had stopped praying after his wife and three children died during a cholera outbreak in 2013, what was he praying for? For life? For his sins to be forgiven? What was the point? Continue reading →
Her muscles began the second round of begging for forgiveness, this time they sang the names of the gods of her fathers and mothers asking them to forgive the sins of her ancestors. It couldn’t just be her own sins she was atoning for as she pushed them with such cruelty. Continue reading →
When the child was given to you, placed in your belly by the father of gods even though you chose to thank the man with the white robes, messenger of the strangers’ god. We hoped you would remember to teach her about us. We watched you through the veil, as you pressed your fingers on beads and prayed for a godly seed. We wondered how you could not tell you were carrying a god.
I’m sharing an excerpt from something I’m working on. I really hope you’d like it.
Wake Me Up
Pamela was thinking of ginger as she waited for the kettle on the ring to boil, not ginger the spice but the verb. No! it was the adverb – gingerly, it described her actions in the house since Jerry’s mother arrived yesterday, the only things the woman hadn’t complained about were the things she hadn’t seen yet. 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.
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 →
She had often been accused of lacking a heart. While her haters and detractors had never gone as far calling her heartless, even they had to agree that she was kind and a little selfless but they agreed that she was incapable of being straightforward in the affairs of the heart. It puzzled her that they all said the same thing of her, they didn’t even know each other, the fuckers. Continue reading →
My neighbour’s girlfriend is pounding yam again, the echo of the thud of the pestle on the yam slices against the mortar seeps through the concrete decking into my room, the vibrations make my windows rattle. She pounds every day, rattling my window in the mid-morning when I try to catch the second wave of sleep after losing the first round in the hours after I return from my night shift at the factory. Her pounding always delays that second round of sleep but I smile when it starts, it means I would eat baby-face smooth pounded yam in a few hours.
Lekan was dead.
There was no doubt in my mind that he was in a mortuary or his body was floating in some river or slowly rotting in the boot of an abandoned car, the possibilities of his location were endless. I had forgotten how to do probabilities and permutations, they were part of my favourite things to do at secondary school maths, along with longitude and latitude calculations. I liked Maths in secondary school and would spend hours poring over the topics. Anything that wasn’t surd and matrix. Continue reading →