Gbum! Gbum! Gbum!

Tobechi could hear the beats of her heart in her ears like the thud of heavy feet on the ground. Loud frantic beats, set agog by the fiery presence of fear in her were rid of every tune of harmony.

For a long time, more than she could account for, her life had been like this – a repertoire of fears and sadness; coupled with the uncertainty of everything and conviction of nothing; groping in the darkness of doubt, despair and despondency that had blackened her life.

And so, she runs away from them all, as that is all she is left with to do.

Having done a lot of it, she stops, panting and gasping for breath. Too tired to keep running from shadows, she turns round for a spot on the brown sandy road where she could rest from the heat of the searing sun that lights up every visible darkness on the earth, except the one in her heart. Her hair was a mess, she knew. Her entire look pleaded for a makeover, transition, and turnaround, whatever the word may be. But she knew nothing like that was ever going to happen. Continue reading


Letting LO(O)SE

When love afflicted me and wrapped its fingers around my head and my heart, I held on to Lizzy, the object of my love, like a frightened baby would to its mother.
She was all I had. I loved her and I knew she did me too. Then suddenly, things began to go awry, I felt it in my guts that something was amiss. It began from her being picky, to being nasty and unnecessarily ‘unpleasable’ and then down to nagging. I didn’t care what she did; I fought for her, for her love. She did not understand what she meant to me; she was air to me.

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When hunger became my family’s closest ally and lack was all we could afford I knew something had to be done and fast too, else we would be hosts to the heralds of death.

To my Uncle Ben’s house I went. Wealth clung to him like a baby at his mother’ breast. He had the key to unlock the chain of hardship that’s held my family for years since papa lost his job as the night watchman in the big company, or so I thought. Continue reading


AMAKA sat closely behind the pot of rice cooking atop the charcoal stove. Having heard from her friend Nneoma of the theft of a woman’s kerosene stove and the pot of food  cooking on it days back, she resolved to leave nothing to chance, especially not her family’s stomach, considering her house was just one out of seven other flats in the compound. Continue reading