Monday, 20 June 2016


With shivering hands, I drew the perforated wrapper over my head as the night grew colder. The letters on the it-was-once-white wrapper had faded. When I found it two months ago in this abandoned uncompleted building, it read Crusade! Crusade!! Crusade!!! I could not sleep because of the pain and rumbling in my stomach. The worms seemed to be feeding on my intestine since there was nothing else for them to
eat. The storm rose, rattling the zinc that had pulled on one side of the roof. I curled myself further into a ball. My legs ached but stretching them would invite cold into my frail lungs. It wasn't only my legs that ached. To relieve my left side, I tactically rolled unto my right side without exposing any part of my body to the freezing foe. The rains came harder, drowning the voice of the nagging storm. This marital quarrel between the rain and the storm had lasted for many days without truce. Uninterfering, I watched them quietly from under the long table I had used boards to cover, leaving only one side open from where I went in and out. I didn't know what time it was nor whether it was day or night for the sky had been wearing this black mourning dress for many days now.

Wednesday, 15 July 2015

The Teacher Who Never Learns

Teacher, teach yourself!

The letter in Janet’s hands had on it the name ‘Angela Uwakwe’ typed in bold capital letters, as if just capitalizing wasn’t enough. Below the name was a phone number.

‘Call her to come pick up her appointment letter’, the school administrator instructed Janet, the school secretary.

Janet went to her office adjacent to the Administrator’s, sat down on her seat, and considered the letter she was holding for a while. She wondered why the administrator had to type this particular letter by herself.

The school employed ten teachers at the same time. Why was I asked to type nine appointment letters while this one is treated specially? The secretary’s mind was filled with scorn as she said ‘this one’ while still contemplating the circumstances surrounding the letter in her hand.

Tuesday, 7 July 2015

A Funny Day at Points

Meet my guests.
Image Courtesy of Artur84 at
From the doorway, Okenwa hailed the waiter he was yet to see, raising his left hand impatiently.

‘Hey! Waiter! Come over here right away. I’ve got only a few minutes to spend here. I’m a very busy man.’

Looking around, he found that most of the tables were occupied.

‘What now?! Can’t I find a table to sit?’ Okenwa asked the waiter who approached him.

‘There are still a few vacant tables, sir. Please follow me.’

‘Where are you taking me?’

Tuesday, 30 June 2015


feet elderly woman old age
I will soon inherit all your properties!
Aghadi shifted uneasily on his seat, drumming his right hand lightly on the arm of his chair.

“I mean, the staff there are wonderful people. I even struck up a relationship with one of them, a charming lady, all for your sake. I want somebody who would look after you there like you were her own.” He wiped the beads of sweat forming all over his face. When there was no response from the frail figure lying on the long sofa, he continued.

Monday, 8 June 2015

Let's Sing!

A war song?
The Choir Master had unconsciously been tapping his thin legs to the tune of “Ibreadi” as though they were some sort of musical instrument. The folds on his forehead came together in an angry knot while his lips folded inwards so they wouldn’t mistakenly join in the song. Immediately the song ended, he sprang to his feet like one stung on the buttocks by a black scorpion.

Tuesday, 26 May 2015

The Frugal Wife

Shed my tears for me, Oh my pen!
It was raining outside but the room was hot. Ogenna stole out of bed and noiselessly pushed the sliding window a little more open to let in more air. He drew out his reading chair and sat down behind the table. Sleeplessness and the unshed tears made his eyes red and dull. He switched on the reading light and noted the time. 1:14 am. The skinny man heard some noise from his wife’s room and quickly turned off the light. When quietness returned, he turned the light on again.
‘I wish I could step out of this marriage right now’, he murmured. ‘But she’s the only woman who

Thursday, 26 February 2015

The Cheats Reward

 No more Promises! They are meant to not be broken but they get broken anyway. So sorry about all the broken promises. Blame it on time.
Here is another children story for you. You spread love when you share what you value. I'm sure your name isn't Omara. LOL! But seriously, If you find this story interesting, please share it. It’s just a … CLICK. Thanks for helping me grow my career.
Stay green with creativity,
Ants on your precious article, Omara! How come?
Photo: D Sharon Pruitt
Chapter One: Omara Attracts the Attention of the Ants  

There was once a little girl named Omara. Omara was three years old and in Nursery One. She was the only child of her parents, and they bought her plenty of toys. She loved to play with toys. Her toys were of different colours, shapes and sizes.

Every day after school, she would stay in her room alone, playing with all her toys. When she was not in her room, she would be out at the front yard playing with friends. They usually enjoyed their plays. But Omara was always greedy with her toys.