GLASS BRIDGE

In the depths of night, my heart does ache.
As I ponder on the path we take.

The winding road that led us here,
The memories we hold dear.

But time, it flows, and we must part.
Like ships that sail, we must depart.

And though we shared a special bond,
Our time together now is gone.

The stars above, they twinkle bright,
A reminder of our last goodnight.

And though we part with heavy hearts,
Our paths will lead us far apart.

Our love was sweet, our time divine,
But fate has now drawn the line.

And though we’ll never meet again,
Our memories will remain till the end.

❤️HEY EVERYONE!!! I’m struggling to drop a blog post a week. Sorry I couldn’t post last week. Wasn’t busy, just lazy haha! But here is a poem I wrote in 2016 about my crush in college 😊. It was so cute seeing this again haha!

Till next time y’all 👋🏿

IN THE LAND OF THE UNCANNY

At the close of the day, when the moon steals our pretence,

We must pledge our allegiance to our captors.

Or we would sleep on blooming spike.

Oh, the immortal tempest. Why do you feed me sickly broilers?

Now, in hazy cursed vision I see a carnival of delightful wanderers.

On thorns, they walked,

bleeding words said and unsaid.

For many as there was were handcrafted to bemoan their festus-like bravery.

Yet, the outskirts of this fallen parliament of wanderers chant cruelty.

Even those who were once prisoners in this gloomy carnival now threw pins and breathed fire.

Amidst the red waters and sickly snares,

Their midnight footprint will someday be stolen by sunburn!

And on that day, the silent clouds, the chatting woes and the tempest will be gone.

We who walked in thunderous storms,

Shall we not forget to claim our thorns?

For only then will we let our children live in our voices and not our path!

And in the land of the uncanny,

We dare to bequeath to you, our bodies as a pleasant trail.

AN ODE TO THE FIFTH SEASON[Happy Valentine’s Day]

How can ye people speak of four seasons? has ye scented the gracious aura of my gardania ?

For mine is more scented than the autumn leaves.

So why not we compare us to the sunny day?

Why not we compare us to the sprouting seeds at spring?

Why not we drench in the pleasures of fall?

Why not we compare our passion to the shiver of winter?

Thee shall pierce my heart but we shall not be foe!

A willful pain I cherish.

When in fated path of human jealousy, I begrudge thy love within thee.

For how does thine heart picture the galaxy?

Let’s make a movie of we with amorous advances.

For our love doesn’t freeze at winters cold,

Nor does it drip at fall season,

Neither would it burn in the summers day.

I ask again,

Has ye scented the gracious aura of my gardania ?

#storywriting #poem#valentine#love#affection#book#wattpad

STALKED: THE DARK NIGHT[SHORT STORY ]

The night was dark and the deem streetlights seemed to have no effect on the unapologetic darkness of the night.

Step by step they walked. One, unaware of the others. Six feet’s walking but only 2 were heard. ‘Jack’ he heard. Tacitly, he spun around but there was no one. A cat ran across the road and bashed into a trash can. Shocked, he moved towards the trash can, gently tilted it downwards and a rat jumped out and unto his face.

For a moment, he was traumatized. And so, when later he got back to his apartment and turned on his TV, he called up Eri, “i felt someone was following behind me this evening. Was it you?” He asked because it was her thing to tease him and trouble him but when she said “no, i haven’t left home since i came back from work. Are you okay?” he knew she wasn’t the one. Maybe he was hallucinating, maybe just maybe it could be his anxiety from work; those sad moments when his boss had told him he was being lazy at work and couldn’t keep up. Yet, he felt something wasn’t right. There was a shadow hiding behind the curtain. He threw himself off his sit

and rushed over. But there was nothing behind the curtain. He turned off the television and for a moment he missed his wife; that Lady who caused him nothing but pain. Once, before she finally filled for a divorce, she had thrown a glass of wine at him and smashed their wedding photos on the floor complaining he was lazy and a poor man. Indeed, he was. At least his boss had just confirmed also that he was lazy. He pulled off his faded jeans and threw his almost tattered shirt on the bed and then, collapsed unto it. If at all his wife were to be here, she could have nagged at him, telling him how disorganised he was. He didn’t want to miss her neither did he want to pick up her call but he did and when she said “something is wrong and…” he threw the phone on the bed, the call still on and his wife still speaking over the phone. Why was she calling him now?

She was still on the phone when he rushed over to the kitchen and began slicing some yams to fry. He hadn’t put the phone on speaker, he didn’t want to hear her nagging but he wanted to know she was at least talking to him. So he placed the phone at a corner and continued chopping some yams. Then a sudden sound startled him. It was the sound of a gun. So he rushed over to the sitting room and peeped through the window. There was no one there.

He began fidgeting. He rushed back to the kitchen to dial the emergency line. It was then he noticed she had cut the call. He felt bad; he shouldn’t have ignored her that way. Yet, he remained troubled; the fear that he had heard a gun shot and he was the only person living in the house. He dialed the emergency line but it was unreachable. He called Eri “babe…I heard a gunshot in my compound. I think someone is following me” “hold on babe. I will be there soon” she said and ended the call. He could trust her words. He could trust her that she would be there with him. Although he doubted he loved her as much as she did because there was a part of him still yearning for his ex wife, a part of him still gushing about her bright eyes and her pearl shape with her charisma like that of a goddess. He knew from the first moment he had set his eyes on her, his ex wife at a festival at Olay street that she was the one. And when she agreed to be with him forever, he thought it will last but no one can tell.

But Eri was the type of girl that would go for what she wanted and he was a lonely man rejected by his wife barely 3 years after their marriage. And Eri was chasing him and by the law of nature, he was going to accept to escape depression. And so he did. He would flaunt her each time he came across his ex wife at the mall. Once, he introduced eri to his ex wife to be provocative. Although he didn’t succeed because she snubbed, he felt an awkward ease; at least she knew he had moved on. That notwithstanding, he felt as though Eri was a kind girl, the girl every man would want to have. The girl that brought peace into a mans life. She was always yielding to everything he said. And if in fact, conflict reared its ugly head, she would be the one to call to fix it. She was always just a call away. And so, when she arrived at the door, earlier than expected;10 minutes post call, she rushed into his embrace, asking him if he was alright, if anything had happened to him as though he looked like he was hurt. This was something his wife wouldn’t do. She wouldn’t have arrived as quickly as Eri did. She wasn’t outwardly caring but if ever she guessed he was hurt, she would nag and then cornily look for possible bruises on his body. Later, she would call 2 doctors to do a thorough check while frowning her face like she did not care. Indeed, he preferred that to Eri’s outward show. Maybe he was not used to it yet. If ever he and his ex wife had an argument, he would purposely lose because if it ended in his favour, there was going to be a whole week of anger tantrums which sometimes he provoked

Provoking her in her spirit of rage was what he engaged in each time he won debates. Then when she begins her teary screams from frustration, he would hug her lightly till she began to laugh. He knew quite well her anger wasn’t to be taken so seriously; at least not the anger periods she had after debates. But Eri was different, he felt as though she was hiding her true self. She was like a perfect woman and he couldn’t understand her.

So when Eri sat back on his chair, asking him about the gunshot, he thought about how he had ignored his ex wife’s call.

That same night, as he walked Eri back to her car, assuring her he was going to be fine, he saw a figure submerged by the dark night, it was as if it was sitting and laying its head on his car door. So he pointed his phone touch at the darkened space and behold, the figure was his ex wife. He shouted and rushed to his wife. He held her in his arms in disbelief. Never did he imagine that his beautiful love would be in his arms, lifeless. He wailed and in his minds eye were memories of their good old days. Her phone was laying on the floor when Eri reached out to pick it but he pulled it out of her hands. It was then he realised the phone has been smashed and he caught sight of a bullet on her neck. It hit him in momentum that the bullet he had heard was not an attack on him but on her

For 2 hours, he sat, staring at his ex wife. He should have done more for her. He should have defeated his laziness but he didn’t and now he will never see her again. But he will cherish their memories. Eri had stayed back comforting him but had left after some hours. He was still at the same spot, bereft of emotions when a sudden memory stifled him; it was the memory from the night. He had remembered someone had called out to him in the dark when he was returning from work. Those footsteps…maybe they were hers or maybe not, he thought. But when he recollected the voice calling ‘jack’ he knew it was her. Why was she following him? What was she even doing here when the bullet hit her? Why was she at his house? He questioned himself. Then he struggled to pull her off the ground. There was something on her palms and he read “ERI” in capitals. What did she mean by writing that? He thought and then, in a sprint with his newly awakened vision, he called Eri,it was unreachable. It was her, she was the reason why his wife had followed him. Maybe she wanted to tell him something about Eri. What was that? He thought.

The next day, he called Eri once more and a woman picked “hello do you know this person, she left her phone on the chair at Mariana airport sir. Mind getting it for her?”

It was then he realised she had fled the city. Now his questions had been answered. Indeed, she killed his wife, why else did she show up at his door almost immediately after the call?He wished he had picked the call. He wished he had listened to what she was trying to say. Maybe she was calling him to save her.

When he sat back at the sit at Mariana police station, he was speechless listening to the police man report Eri’s case “she had kidnapped your ex wife 2 weeks after your divorce. Indeed she was stalking both you and your wife all this time and when she discovered you both had divorced, she jumped in. I think she felt you still cared for your wife but still she is a stalker, a dangerous one. Her case has been raised by many. I guess your wife escaped and wanted to inform you so she decided to seize her again. Maybe those were the feet’s you were hearing behind you that night. She might have seized her again at that moment. That’s why she called out to you. Maybe your wife escaped again and ran to your house. That was when she might have made a call to you but like you said..”

” I didn’t pick” he completed. Perharps, that was when Eri shot her and the call ended. He swore he wouldn’t leg Eri go. He wouldn’t be lazy this time. She was going to pay but the question remains, where is ERI?

BLACK ROSE

The feeling of butterflies, the scent of roses, lovely rhythm of birds perching and the description of ‘a many splendored thing’ by Francis Thompson was not what I bargained for when I set my eyes on the light skinned average heighted girl. I felt there was something magnetic about us.

The year was 2015 in the month of February. The multi coloured lights were swirling above the roof sending indefinite visions of individuals cheering and popping drinks open as though in haste. The bar was probably the reason for noisy nights in the area.

But she was excluded seeming quite aloof- her legs crossed over the other and her eyes on her phone, paying no attention to anyone. She sat across the bar on a royal-like chair.

I hadn’t seen her face but she seemed innocent. I thought to question her but my mind seemed to look for other approaches.

‘Hello‘ I said.

She looked familiar. She starred at me from under her long lashes for some minutes longer than that expected as a response time. It seemed as though she didn’t want to talk to me. Maybe she was snubbing me.

‘Excuse me ma’am but this isn’t the place to sit. You either go to the round table over there’ I paused to gesture then continued

‘or get some wine at the front desk’ I said and moved out.

She may possibly be confused as to who I was to tell her what to do, so I strolled to one of the attendants at the bar to instruct her to change location. He bowed to me and moved out. He may have probably said ‘my boss said I should tell you to move out’ Even though I had warned them to stop involving me when giving instructions.

I stepped out of the bar and the cool breeze of the night flushed through my skin and I inhaled deeply. My thoughts ran wild and back. The cries of my family, the rumours sent across town and the liquidation of the family business invaded my peace and I sat back in my car, keys on my laps, head resting backwards and tears rolling down my eyes.

‘Senator buchi ohaneze killed by son and hidden by family’the newspaper read- dated 10 February 2005.

The almost magical union of my family was buried on that day.

‘You are new to politics. We had a deal, i gave you wealth in turn that you join my community. However, you have to give me half the shares of your company unless you wont like the consequences’

My sister had explained to me what senator ihieanacho had said to my parents before the news of my father’s death. It was now clear what had happened.

Although, the last time I returned from the united states, I had noticed some friction between my dad and my elder brother for some months before I left for the united states again.

But never did I imagine he could harm my dad.

Coming back from the states to the news of the death of my father was tragic but that was the last straw that will break and also build the camels back.

What actually happened?

I had asked but everyone including my sisters seemed to be busy covering up one news or the other about the death of my father.

Days passed and I didn’t get any information on investigations but once i heard on Channels news

‘The eldest son of senator buchi ohaneze has been released from custody and news report that the case has been delayed till further notice”

On hearing this, I rushed to see my elder brother who looked like he was perishing. No one had told me when he was arrested. I hugged my mum and my sisters who stood, crying.

I could read their eyes. I could see just how much money they had given out to relax the case so as for it to die down as well as save the family name. On the bailing papers was written ‘Black rose‘ as company name applying for bail.

Black rose, a company co owned and managed by a group of senators.

Why did the company apply for bail? I had thought.

The truth was still a mystery to everyone but myself and my family knew the truth, the set up and betrayal by senator iheanacho.

And so as I sat back in my car and the memories popped in my head, I slammed my steering in pain.

I heard a knock at my window and so I wined down. It was her, the girl I saw back at the bar.

“Sorry I want to drive out“ she said and I couldn’t help but admire her beauty. Something intrigued me about her and as I was about responding, my eyes picked on the subject line on her ID card. It read “flourish firm of legal advisers” and the tagline read “Black rose”.

She had moved back to her car and started to reverse through a difficult root before I realised just exactly what the tagline was related to; My father’s partnership company which was dissolved on his death.

I rushed out of my car but she zoomed off before I could confront her. Very impatient, was how I could describe her. Just like me. She did not wait till I reversed for her to drive comfortably, she took the hard root out.

As I drove, I turned on the radio.

” Multiple fraud detected in black rose group of companies and research is ongoing by the flourish firm of legal advisers on the associates involved in the fraud. However, it has been confirmed that the late senator ohanaeze is involved in the multi million fraud charge which has now been raised against his successor …”

Now, my hands were fidgeting on my steering. My head felt heavy for a second and then I began to hear car horns. I struggled to get back my sanity and pressed my leg on the breaks. It was only then I noticed I had almost knocked down the street lights.

Before a scene could be created, I drove speedily from the area.

The next morning was a horror. I was at the forth floor of red rose group of companies headquarters pacing from one end of the hallway to the other. I watched women and men in suit go to and fro with files and some with their bags. “Have you seen that Lady?” someone said tapping me from behind. I spun, it was my mum and beside her were my sisters but I didn’t see my elder brother “where is buchi?” I asked my mother. “He is in custody for the time being until we pay off the debt”

I wanted to speak before I spotted the girl I had seen at the bar last night. She was dressed corporately with her files pressed on her chest. She walked smoothly, one step at a time with her dark African curly hair stopping immediately above her shoulder. And then, her round dark eyeball caught sight of me staring at her. I broke eye contact and in a sprint with my newly awakened vision, I remembered I had seen her ID card which means she was an attorney in the firm that instituted the suit against my father and could therefore help me.

I rushed to catch up with her ‘how may I help you?’ She asked before I could say anything ‘you were at the bar last night Kenneth,son of late senator ohanaeze’ she said smirking.

‘How do you know me?”

She took a short breath before responding ‘I was at your bar last night after investigating your father’s fraudulent acts. I wanted to find out were all that money was going to. It seems to have gone into maintaining the luxurious bar you own along with your brothers luxury clothing brand as well as your sisters clothing brand‘

‘Wait. Sorry I don’t understand‘ I spoke, my words breaking at each end.

‘We will see in court‘ she said and moved into the elevator.

I stood there, benumbed.

‘Let’s go. Who were you speaking to?’ My mum asked as we moved down the stairs. ‘No one’ I answered, caught up in my thoughts, trying to reach a conclusion but one thing was sure, I had seen her somewhere before, asides the bar.

Days and months rolled by like minutes and I had my facts patched up together moving into the courtroom. Asides my act of evading the courtroom, I promised myself that I would appear in court again for only my late fathers sake. I wore my wig with pride , dusted my gown which was left idle for years after my last case. One of the cases were I failed to clearly prove a co defendants case beyond reasonable doubt because I was more concerned about my father. Forgetting the consequences that will be leveled against his family. A case of libel. One thing was sure, that my father was not a drug dealer as they had accused him and the other man; the;co-defendant in a newspaper but my inexperience and selfishness triggered me to prove my fathers innocence beyond reasonable doubt but that of the other, I could not prove. I guess I was only thinking about my father forgetting the other was also innocent and needed my skills as much.

As I sat back on my chair facing the court and about to present my case on behalf of my late father, I whispered a brief apology to the past, specifically the man accused of drug trafficking along with my father and I prayed he would forgive me for failing to prove his case out of selfishness.

Now,She, the girl I had seen at the bar was sitting opposite to me now. She was going to be the lawyer suing my father for fraud.

‘My lord, M.A Akeredolu counsel for the plaintiff’ the plaintiff counsel, she introduced and my brain went on an overdrive piecing one or two together and then my heart began racing. The name….

‘Counsel for the defendant. Are you not in court‘ the judge shouted and I sprang to my feet. I was confused and my confidence seemed to have betrayed me and so I mumbled through out the court session. From the corner, I could see my mum fidgeting hoping I would compose myself but I couldn’t and so I starred at my brother at the witness box. He looked at me as though I had failed him and then he came down after he had given his statement.

I refused seeing anyone when the judge went on break to later give the verdict. I refused making eye contact and so when everyone was back in the courtroom and the judge said ‘the defendant is found guilty and all assets and…”

I fell on my face and began wailing. The pain was too much I couldn’t breath. I was now in my mother’s arms with my family surrounding me and consoling me.

Just then, she walked towards me and dropped a file as though to rub it in my face that she had won the case? My sisters moved to confront her and I could hear people shouting and blaming.

I didn’t want to look up and so I kept my eyes glued to the ground in shame and moved into the next courtroom where no one seemed to be there.

Now I could remember vividly what had crushed my confidence. The name ‘M.A Akeredolu’. That was the exact name of the co defendant I had failed to prove his case which led to him being jailed and all his assets confisticated. It hit me in momentum that I had never seen her before but I had seen her father before and she looked exactly like her father which gave me déjà vu.

I slammed my palms on the bench. I lost my father and now, I lost his assets. I lost everything.

I moved out of the courtroom and back to the former courtroom to see what was inside the file she had dropped. I opened it and I found photographs and some original documents signed between my father and senator iheanacho. I tore the file open in haste and read through. I saw the pictures and agreements.

‘Fuck it!’ I shouted and placed all the evidence in my bag. I moved to the court assistants asking them to bring up my father’s case which they had abandoned.

Everyday seemed like the other day and the moon didn’t seem to beam in the night or I didn’t notice the parts of the day again. I had her to thank but why did she do this for me? I thought

Day after day, I sat at my desk, reading and investigating. My case was now fixed for the 5th of February 2019. As much as I tried to concentrate, the vision of her appeared in the notes and I struggled to get her off my mind. She was beautiful. ‘This is the last thing you do for your father‘ I reminded myself.

This time, there would be no fear, no guilt or regret. And so, as I moved into the courtroom and announced my appearance, I thought to myself, I believe I will win.

‘My lord, before this honourable court is evidence that senator iheanacho murdered my late father ohanaeze because he declined getting into an agreement with him to absorb and own all assets which belonged to M.A Akeredolu which was confisticated. Hence, I urge this honorable court to assert justice for the case at hand. To round off my case, I would also urge the court to look into 2007 case of black rose -v-M.A Akeredolu who was suing the president of black rose for mismanagement of fund whereas it is confirmed before this court that M.A Akeredolu mismanaged the funds and blamed it on the president in other to take up his position in 2007′

‘That’s a lie!’ Someone shouted from the court and I could sense it was her. I expected that reaction and so I smirked. Although my intention was not to get back at her for the case of fraud I had lost, I felt better.

She was right all along. My father Indeed committed fraud. Perhaps, if she had not blocked my way after the verdict was given in favour of my claims against senator iheanacho and her father, that would have been the last time I saw her.

But now she was standing in front of me, anger flushed on her face and tears pulling up in her eyes. She was pretty. Her lips looked soft and so as she parted them to say something, I said “Thank you for investigating into my fathers case. I also did same for you but I would not ignore a crime against an innocent man like the former president because the perpetrator of the crime was your father. Your father indeed lied against the former president of black rose and…’

‘Shut up. ‘ she interrupted. ‘I know he did and I only gave you that file of evidence because I stand for justice and..’

‘So do I’ I interrupted

‘but you will not stand for justice when it involves your own right?‘ I continued

‘exactly!that’s how I felt knowing my father was also wrong as much as he was wronged. Now you understand why I couldn’t prove your fathers case right? Now you know how it feels right? And…’

‘I don’t want to see you again‘ she interrupted and I held her hands before she could walk out. She starred at me and I felt as though I had traveled the world through her eyes.

How would I tell her I was attracted to her? Would she ever love me after what I did to her father? Would she ever know how much I regret it?

She looked at me over her shoulders, she was beautiful. She was like the other half of me. Both impatient, reserved, justice inclined despite all odds, never backing down. She was the other part of me but I guess something’s are better left unsaid. No matter how much I deny it, I can feel a connection, something like a magnet between us but seems like it was only me feeling that way.

And so, I let her go.

———————————

I was driving in my car, fulfilled yet upset. Then, I looked at the rear view. It seemed like a car was following me and so I decided to park but before I got down, It drove pass me. I got a peep into the car. She was the one.

I guess I wasn’t the only one feeling that way.

Maybe someday, I will see her back at black rose.

WHAT YOUR EYES WILL SEE

When you sit at a free table in Uniuyo cafeteria, you will see many things: a group of five guys each occupied with their laptops; another guy on a yellow T-shirt probably on a black rag jean, devouring a plate of hot Afang-melon soup with eba, like a person who had been deprived of food for weeks; another table occupied by freshers, all girls, who had come to complete a note or two, some gossiping about their course rep while others talking about the GST term paper.

If you are sitting by the entrance, you may also see a stream of lovers going in and out, hands in hands. You will see another couple having a conversation and you will chuckle at the light banter between the two.

Another group of guys will walk past too, at the center of which is a girl with thick box-braids and a crop top she got from a second hand stall at town camp. She will speak extra loud with an aura of power that would immediately have the guys agree with her.

And if it is near noon, you will see another group of girls walk in. You will know that they are Law students in their white and black. They will take a seat adjacent yours while they mutter something about evidence and some other things you don’t understand. The tall huge girl among them might be eating a plate of fried rice adjacent you and the aroma you’ve known your whole life: fried rice, garnished salad, huge beef, will hit you like it’s the first time. Your mouth will water at the thought of this but you will swallow back your saliva. You had just started the 50 days fasting your church had embarked on.

If you are still on that table now, you will see two girls in matching tops and black leggings march to the counter to place their order, channel O earrings dangling from their ears, the size that could fit your neck, their nose up in the air as if they had stepped on a dead rat.

The laughter will begin soon among the laptop guys. The one with the rat face might yell something to the group and the sound of it will float to your ears “Dollar don rise o”. An empty feeling will sit on your chest. You know that feeling, it can only be described as envy.
“Leave me alone” someone from across will say too loudly. Heads will turn at neighbouring tables, anxious to know what had happened. You will see a young boy barefoot, in almost tattered clothes, standing beside the girl with six-layered face of foundation, like a bottle of Mary-k had been poured over her face. You will look at her shaking your head. A hundred naira note was all the boy had asked for.
A short guy will walk into the cafeteria and you will hear others cheering “Leader…..Leader”. If you ask anyone about him, they will tell you he was a one time this and one time that.
“Hey, whats up?” A guy wearing a vintage shirt might say to a stranger at your left, his voice smooth, clear and calculated. He will clear his throat when she doesn’t notice him standing at her table side. Her head will fly up in surprise, her glasses almost falling off her face. She will offer him an awkward smile as she pushes her glasses back up. You will know that she is a medical student by the big textbooks in front of her, showcasing the female Anatomy. One thing will lead to another and he is sitting beside her, chattering and laughing about something you don’t know. You will want to whisper “oh God when?” but you might be interrupted by a girl on a plain black bogus long skirt with a jacket that has the “I’m a Jesus baby” shoulder pad, her hair tucked back into a scarf.

“Mind if I join you here?” She will sit without waiting for your reply. Your small, beady eyes will follow her closely as you nod mutely. Your eyes will still prey on her large ones, watching her every move with an intense look. Your eyes will not want to leave her skirt, maybe because the skirt was long enough it could be used for a hide and seek. You will bit down on your lip to hold in your laugh. A typical Deeper life girl. If you’re not feeling normal, a low chuckle will escape your lips and the deeper life girl will cast you a look.

Still on that table, you will look around and your eyes will meet a guy, head placed between the palm of his hands, his forehead crinkled in confusion. The bags under his eyes will almost compare to black rings as he look like he hadn’t slept for days. Another medical student. A grin will spread the width of your face. You didn’t come to school to suffer like this. After all you cannot kill yourself.

“Do you have a pen?” The deeper life girl will ask you. “Yes..” Your sentence will trail off when your eyes lock on a girl on black gown. You will first notice her almost perfect symmetrical face, the kind of face that will make you stop and stare if she passed you on the street. Next, you will gaze at her slightly golden-olive toned skin, her dark chocolate coloured eyes which compliments her complexion. You will shot her your “You’re pretty” glare as she approaches and pray she sees it. The deeper life girl will clear her throat directing her gaze at you. Your eyes will flicker between Cinderella and the deeper life girl. The deeper life girl will give you that “see your life” kinda look and you will lower your eyes to your bottle of coke. You don’t want her preaching to you.

Between the laughter from the laptop guys and the clink-clank of spoons and the click-clack of shoes on the washed titles and the beep-beep of whatsapp messages, the cafeteria will echo all these sounds between itself and into itself until they become one big hot noise that hums itself into your very bones. When it is two-o’clock you will gather you things and head home.

When it is 6 pm, you will open your open the book you took to the cafeteria, a hard cover that contains all your courses. You will come face to face with a blue track and a written note beside it. “We hold our fellowship at Old Agric Lecture Hall. Jesus loves you” You will read the note twice and at the third time, you will know where it came from. The deeper life girl.

©Enobong Etuk

LONELY DAYS

My bitterness i weep into a pool of tears
In the creepy night my heart shivers with fear
My mind feels like an empty space
A perfect definition for lonely days
Maybe joy could just resurface
My heart is aching with pain,searching for peace
But these lonely days,these lonely days i say
So disheartning,thrown from the edge of a cliff,am paining,aching,hurting
Just take these lonely days away from me
those memories of dreaded nights and scary daylights
Let me feel it is but a dream and better not reality ’cause am in pieces
let me feel the rays of light so it fades away
let me make a sense out of this puzzle
help me find the pieces so i can pull them together
maybe the future will be brighter when the puzzled picture is clearer.

IG: TuraWrites
Pen name :Turawrites

IN LOVE WITH A GODDESS

Abena, a queen of beauty,
the one who lights up fire in my bones.
Her soft scales pierce my skin and hurt me in love,
they make me bleed out anxieties and fears
while the scary comfort of her palms clothes my wound.

Her hotly cold touch strengthens my mind,
yet her devilish smile sends shivers down my spines.
For her sake, I don’t mind turning a beast;
feared by all but loved by one.

I’m in love with a goddess.

© Witty_Pen

instagram.com/Witty_Pen

THE PROMISE

The moon had failed to brighten the night as i walked down home from the hospital. The night was dense black and the streetlights were flickering. I began hearing footsteps behind me so i paused and searched behind me but there was no one there. I took a step forward and another followed. I slowly tilted my head sideways and saw a shadow. I began fidgeting. I took to my heels. I stumbled a hundred times and finally ran into a bucket of trash.
There was no one there, no one chasing me. It was then i realised i had been running away from my own shadow, it was my hallucination playing games with me.
I got off and shoved the trash aside, placed my hands into my pocket and took some pills.

I finally found my way around and back to my house. I knocked at the door but no one answered. I tried again and i wished i didn’t. A thunderous scream followed as the door pulled open. It was my husband, obiocha, he was screaming at me as to why i would come home so late at night when i wasn’t on night shift. I didn’t pay attention. I staggered passed him, tired, angry, sad, in short, full of anxiety. Only if he could see how broken i was. I guess that sensitive aspect of him had gone with the spark of romance in our relationship.
Ever since the 5th of august 2019 , our relationship had become bitter. I missed those days when i would walk into the house with a bag of cloths for our baby. He would place his head on my tummy to hear the baby’s movement. We would make silly jokes about our baby and it would kick and kick.
It was just as strong as its father and i was sure it was going to look exactly like its father. The brown eyes complemented by the dashing pink lips and then that ravishing smile was what struck my senses the first time we met at a late night beach party at lekki, lagos.

The stars adorned the sky and the cool breeze of the night surged through my arms as i spread them wide open; standing on the sea shore. I was having the best time of my life and then a young man walked towards me, his shirt unbuttoned and billowing in the breeze and the water splashed on his legs. “Hi beautiful” he said to me and that marked the beginning of something beautiful. We didn’t seem to run out of subjects to talk about. That same night, i didn’t know how i got tangled in his arms but there we were; wrapped in each others arms under a blanket. The next morning wasn’t awkward for reasons i am yet to figure out but right now, as i stared at him, i didn’t know what to tell him. He was shouting but i just kept on walking.

He badged into my room and pushed me to the wall;now i could hear him. “You are a very irresponsible women. I hate you!” He shouted and i bowed my head, struggling to hold myself together. “You aren’t on night shift today so why are you just returning from work?” He shouted and i struggled to speak “i want to rest biko”. He walked out and i slumped to the ground.

It was another horrible morning so i got set for work. I had slept on the floor last night and my body was torturing me. I pulled my door but it wouldn’t open. Why not? I asked myself. A paper slid down the the door, i grabbed it and it read ‘just stay around for today, biko obim’. A sting of remorse bit my conscience and i felt wicked for always staying out. For a month, work had really been difficult because i failed to perform my tasks diligently. I didn’t just know what to do. Yesterday, i almost killed a pregnant woman; i was trying to pull the baby out with full force.

My colleague saved me and asked me to leave the theatre. She later advised me for hours on how to deal with my mental condition.

I sat back on my bed and my husband walked in with a tray of food. He sat beside me and fed it to me. As i chewed the ugba soup, i looked him in the eyes and said “will he ever come back?” My husband looked furious, he shouted “This is the 50th time i would tell you. He was never here!” I broke down in tears and he wiped it off my face. “Just eat and rest okay?” He said and walked out of the room.

As i fisted on the soup, i saw my cupboard move slowly. I shook my head in disbelief and got back to eating. Again, it moved and a little baby crawled out from behind it. I jerked off the bed and towards the baby “oh jesus, baby come here” i said and it crawled towards me, smiling. The joy i felt at that moment was a rare bliss. I rushed to pull it up from the ground but i couldn’t see it anymore. I searched round the room throwing furniture’s and accessories but i couldn’t find it. My husband rushed in, freight labelled on his face. “What is it?” He asked, i guess i startled him with the noise. “I cant find the baby” i cried “what baby?” He shouted “why do you always shout at me?” I yelled and stormed pass him. I put some cloths on and grabbed his car keys “just where do you think you are going?” He shouted as he followed me to the sitting room. “Out!” I retorted. We stared at each other for a moment with utter disbelief that our romantic relationship turned this sour. A knock came sounding at the door and i pulled the door open. I wasn’t surprised at the visitor. She was my nightmare and i was her villain. We stared at each other blankly until she broke it and badged into the house leaving me unbalanced. She walked towards her son with her red Aba made rapper and her brown gele, a typical igbo woman. “Ewo!…lekwa nwatakiri onyocha!…chai idikwa sweet nwam” she said in igbo dialect. She was busy praising her son about his looks and didn’t for a moment, glance at me, his wife, ifunanya. Suddenly, another person walked in and i staggered in disbelief. A tall girl with curved hips and bright eyes, younger and more vibrant walked passed me and stood beside my mother in law. My mother in law held her as she backed me facing my husband, she said “negodu asanwa, oge a rula, e nwahu mmaka. Biko asanwa ga nwo otu” and then she and the girl began laughing. The unannounced guest had just told my husband that he should get that young shameless girl pregnant.

I looked at my husband and he looked away. My head began to spin and now, i saw things 2 times. I ran out of the house and hit the road, moving to no specific location. On the steering was my tears. As i drove speedily, i got visions of the 5th of august when our vehicle rammed into a trailer. The blood that flowed down my legs on that day as they rushed me to the theatre appeared on my palms as i drove. Fear gripped me and i cried and cried on my staring. I could now fully remember when the nurse told my husband i had lost my baby as a result of the accident. The shock and sadness i had felt came back as though it had just happened.

I began hearing a car horn behind me. I looked at the rear view mirror, it was my husband. He was waving out through his window for me to stop, i knew he would follow me. I knew he cared for me and i was just being selfish, failing to recognise that i wasn’t the only one that lost my baby, he also lost his baby. I felt guilty so i put my legs on the break but it didn’t respond. I tried and tried and then, nothingness.

“Take a turn at your right, my flower” obiocha said on the phone as i walked down the beach. “Can you see me?” He asked over the phone and i answered “no” “so why did you stop?” He asked and chuckled. “Follow the flowers on the floor” he guided and i did just that. It led me to the seashore but no one was there and then he hung up. I looked around and then lights came up at the performance stand on the beach. Red lights adorned with read roses let out the question “will you marry me?”. That was the best birthday present and seeing my siblings and my parents cheer in glee at the stand made me ecstatic. I heard a loud sound and jerked up.

I almost fell off the hospital bed and sitting beside me was my husband. He wasn’t angry this time. Seemed like i had been dreaming of the past, our engagement. I felt better, my head didn’t seem heavy anymore and my husband looked so attractive now. “What happened?” i asked “your car rammed into a tree and you hit your head, it wasn’t so bad” he laughed and i hit him playfully. We stared at each other for a while and he said “i know you have been through a lot and i have been such a shit head but Jesus Christ! I love you so much and i would make sure to be the best father in the world”

“what did you say?” I asked and he said “you are going to be a mother again”. I let out a loud scream and hugged him tightly. We never let go of each other till the end.

I swear i would be the best mum in the whole world. This is my promise.

©enwere prisca

All rights reserved.

THE WEDDING

It was a sunny morning in July, the birds singing in beautiful rhythm and the sweet silence of the night broken by the movements echoing from all corners of my house. I dragged myself off the bed and unto my feet. Gulped a glass of water and got on my knees ‘lord, please let this day pass quickly’ I prayed. My alarm rang and I did the needful, I had never gotten up before my alarm rang, I guess it was because I was thinking through the night. I kept staring at my phone as my calendar popped up with a notification ‘wedding day’. I slide to remove the notification.
It was quite absurd to feel this way on your wedding day but I guess I am not just a romantic person. Probably, my bride might just be jumping on her bed with her girls; day dreaming about she walking down the aisle and I shedding mystical fake tears of joy and then this beautiful song comes up to bring more fictitious sparks to the day but here I am wishing it all ends so I could focus on my project. I undress and walk towards the bathroom but someone badged in with a bulk of flowers in her hands, shouting and shouting but all I could hear was the end word ‘ready yet’. My mum talked so fast you could barely hear her and those flowers in her hands were clear notification that preparations were already going on for my wedding but I had not taken my bath so I guessed what she had said was related to my grogginess. ‘Take your bath immediately and come downstairs for the blessings’ she shouted ‘madam, the decorator, cook, designer, organizer, engineer and electrician is around. The others will arrive shortly’ a service man notified and I wondered just how many people they had summoned to arrange this wedding. ‘Mum, what do we need an engineer for?’ I asked skeptically. She walked out with the service man as though she did not hear me and of course she didn’t, she was caught up in all the arrangements. She was so fond of Karachi, the golden girl I had been dating since when I was 2 years old. I could remember how happy she was each time I and kara would go playing at our toy house and then come running around in the compound. I have not known any girl except kara and I don’t wish to, I simply have better things to do than to go searching for girls. I had my dreams, my goals, my projects to work on and more to come.
I trudged clumsily to the bathroom and out. The band was around, singing and shouting with their drums and now my mum just kept calling me downstairs. The thought of walking downstairs stressed me; it was a mansion, an evidence of my hard work. ‘Here is my son’ my mum introduced me to her friends. Their faces were cheerful as they repeated the same thing ‘congratulations’ and I wondered whether I had hit a great contract. I didn’t know when I said ‘calm down, it’s just marriage not a lottery’. My mum’s eyes sent warning signals as though to say ‘don’t start again’ so I got the message, gave a gentle bow and excused myself. To escape the crowded environment and ecstatic guest, I ran into a corner and to my greatest surprise, kara was also hiding and just as I was about to sneak out, she tapped me from behind and let out a wide smile as dashing as sunrise, charming as sunset and cool as the breeze of the night. Her midnight dark hair fell on her shoulders which complemented her mild makeup beaten face. I scanned her from head to toe; she was only wearing a white short simple gown as though she wasn’t prepared. ‘What are you doing here and why aren’t you prepared?’ I asked and she said ‘I wanted to see you’ with a smile on her face. She hadn’t changed.
She loved sneaking around and she still did. I could remember when we had both gotten into trouble in our teenage years. She had suggested, on our way from college, that we go for a friend’s party in which process, she got into a fight with one of the wild girls and they beat her to stupor. I pleaded with them and managed to drag her out. Later that day, I was punished. Some days later, my friend told me how the girls’ car had rammed into a tree on that same day over a failed brake. My friend has said ‘I think kara did it’. She was the instigator of calamity and I followed but then, each time they would blame me over and over again.

‘kara please go back’ I pleaded this time knowing she wouldn’t listen but there is no harm in trying. ‘Just because you live next door doesn’t mean you shouldn’t know when and when not to come around’ I mistakenly said just like the arrogant person that I am. She grind and said ‘sometimes I wonder if I am forcing you into this relationship’. I felt an urge to lash out at her about how I want this day to pass quickly so I could continue with my work. Marriage is not an achievement for me. ‘Are you listening to me? I have been calling you for 2 days now and you haven’t called back. What is wrong with you…you are acting strange. Couple that is about to get married always cling more when it’s closer to their wedding day but this is different and…’ ‘I’m sick of all this! i told mum I didn’t want to get married until I finished all my professional exams and all my projects, I don’t have time for all these unnecessary formalities families do’ I lashed at her furiously and I could see tears pull up in her eyes. How dare she look so beautiful with tears in her eyes, I thought. My heart hurt as she furiously stormed out; breaking everything she came across just like the bucket of temper she was. Everyone’s attention diverted towards us and I felt a bit shy as they all stared at us. I walked out and into my room, slamming the door behind me. My mum stormed in and I didn’t allow her to begin shouting ‘mum, I really don’t care about all this fancy things. All in want to do is focus on my career’ ‘you really don’t care about anybody but yourself’ my mum retorted and slammed the door.
Suddenly, I couldn’t hear any music or movement. I looked through my window and I could see the guests leaving. ‘I don’t care about anyone as though you all aren’t living in my house’ I muttered. 2 years after my father had died; I took on a project which I worked day and night. My family was at the edge of poverty and I worked my head off to become successful and now, I own a mansion but they say I think only about myself, I thought.
It was mid-day; I moved out of my house and hit the road. It started raining heavily and I couldn’t see anything. I was furious at the thought of the confusion. I loved my mum as well as kara but the more I thought, the more I wanted to carry on with my project and keep the marriage till further notice. The streets were dark and I couldn’t see a thing. I decided to park and wait to avoid accident. Suddenly, I saw a flash of light moving quickly towards my vehicle. I immediately grabbed my keys but I couldn’t locate the start up key hole. I struggled and struggled and then it finally got in. I looked up and in a second, my vehicle came tumbling and then, into a bush. I lay upside down in my vehicle, unconscious. I struggled to get out. The other vehicle had rammed into a tree, totally bashed. I slipped my hands into my pocket and grabbed my phone, I was lucky it wasn’t squashed. I dialed my mum’s number but the line was unreachable, called the emergency line, same results. I then called kara and the phone was ringing behind me. Slowly, I moved and grabbed it, kitty saved as caller ID. I rubbed my eyes and tried again, the phone rang once again. I ran towards the car and looking closely, it was kara.
I pulled her out of the car and placed my head on her chest, there was no sound. I repeated and repeated. I screamed and then, I stormed off my bed. My forehead creased with sweat. ‘what’s wrong?’ I heard kara’s voice. I got up from bed and hugged her tightly. She pushed me aside and said ‘you will soon miss your flight’ ‘what flight’ I asked and she said ‘are you crazy? You said you wanted to go to Canada to complete your project and pursue your career yesterday so I advised your mum to let you go’ ‘I dont want to go’ I said and I threw the flight tickets through the window. I watched kara perplexed as I got on my knees and asked ‘will you marry me?’
It was a sunny morning in July, the birds singing in beautiful rhythm and the sweet silence of the night broken by the movements echoing from all corners of my house. I dragged myself off the bed and unto my feet. Gulped a glass of water and got on my knees ‘lord, please let this day never end’ I prayed. My alarm rang and I did the needful, I had never gotten up before my alarm rang, I guess it was because I was thinking about her through the night. I kept staring at my phone as my calendar popped up with a notification ‘wedding day’. I smiled and rushed to the bathroom. I might not be able to change the past but I can change the future.