FREEDOM - THE ENDING SAGA

DORCAS
Alhaji only spoke to me twice as we undertook the journey from Benue to Kano. One when he fixed the sit belt around my tiny frame, and the other when we stopped by a fast-food joint to eat. I also didn't have anything to say to him for deep fear of him sat in my heart. Even when he was silent, he stole quick glances my way from time to time. After about 7 hours, as my naive mind could picture, Alhaji's Lamborghini pulled up before what seemed like a castle I had seen in one of the children books Aunty Ifeoma my primary school teacher often read from. My jaws dropped as I looked on in awe and admiration for where I found myself. His deep voice jostled me back to reality.
"We're home" he announced, with a northern be laden intonation. I
dropped from the vehicle and asked him what to carry. "The house boy will get the things out, my wife." He said baring teeth stained with tobacco and laced with gold. He appeared nice and the glints in his eyes revealed a new kind of interest that I didn't notice while we were in the village.

PEACE

Walking behind Alhaji, we approached the building in silence. My mind was filled with so much questions and frustrations. I didn't need a reminder that I was all by myself here - how cruel?
There were a number of smaller apartments at every corner of the fenced land, and as we walked passed each, the doors screeched open with unhappy faces and murmuring of something I understood to be greetings. I caused under my breath,
“How can I cope here? my whole life is blown away for some
cowries” the tears began to threaten to fall again. I could feel the heat rise in my chest but I fought to keep a happy face for my husband proudly showing me off to the other slaves I will soon join.
The sitting room was larger than I would have imagined. Five women stood all dressed in a native wrapper, with no signs of smiles and happiness they greeted simultaneously.
"Ehhennn!... my new wife has arrived, Amina be kind to show her to the room next to mine and make her comfortable for the night as usual" I was more frustrated, "as usual?".

What will become of me here? The questions kept choking me with no answers. Alhaji walked away. The very dark skinned woman walked me into a room. This phase has just begun in my life and truly I am not ready for its mishap.

TOLU
I found myself in an unwanted abode. The room looked gloomy and stuffy even though it will cost papa a century from his business to make this fortune. I would rather enjoy my dreamland adventure on my mat in papa's mud house than this fancy room.
"Are you sleeping already?" Amina called as she rubbed the wall slowly to locate the switch. "It must have been a long day; Benue to Kano is not a joke. This reminds me of my first day here 10 years ago. I was welcomed by only one woman … hmmm" I watched on as she tried to initiate a friendship I would never bargain for. "Pardon my manner pretty, my name is Amina and you are?" I stuttered then said, " M..mmy name is Tito".
"Feel free you are in your new home. You have to freshen up and join us in the dinning room. The unhappy faces you saw out there won't last for long" Amina said. I hadn't deciphered these words when one of the several wives of Alhaji dropped a bombshell at the corridor.
"You better inform her that Alhaji will ride her alone for the next

three weeks, you silly and unrepentant pretender." Zainab said. My tummy rumbled as I heard her hoarse voice while I remained voiceless in shackles.

STELLA
Boom!
I was really up for the worst. My life finally smashed against a hard rock, shattered beyond repair. I have embarked on a perilous journey of no return. This is the end of the tunnel for me, can't find any light. Darkness has overshadowed my destiny. I would have escaped before the marriage.
Was it really supposed to be called marriage? I was sold! Sold to a man I felt nothing for. A man sent from the pit of hell to ravish my life. How disgusting the thought of gracing his bed tonight feels. Tears sprung my eyes as realization dawned on me. I started shaking slightly. The thought of sleeping with Alhaji aroused nausea from my intestine.
"Are you okay Tito?", Amina asked, tapping my shoulder. I forced
myself not to cry in front of both women as I nodded slowly.
"You had better take a good bath, eat, rest and get ready. Alhaji is
old, but trust me, he is a good horse man". Zainab said sharply. I could sense she wasn't happy with that. It is really despicable to think she enjoys Alhaji riding on her. She looks young and beautiful. I had no choice but to get ready as supposed. He is my husband after all. He paid my dowry beyond expectations. My memory brought an image of what my life was before this whole marriage came into the picture. I was a young happy girl full of life. A day never passed without me reassuring my parents that I was going to make them proud one day. I was determined to go to school, and come out with the best result and elevate my family from misery and poverty. What a twist of fate. This was not what I had in mind but I guess the day couldn’t wait to come. Now, my parents are proud - I made them proud! I am marrying an old, pot-bellied man who gave them a fortune.
This was never how I wanted to make my family proud.

Sighing sadly, I realized I will become used to it sooner or later. The more I thought about it, the more the marriage, as repulsing as it was, appealed to me. At least I would never see my parents and siblings suffer again. I have paid the price with my whole. With a tired sigh, I slump down onto the bed.

SANDRA
I forced myself to have dinner with my new family but all I felt was food tearing my dry throat and lumping in my tight stomach.
“That’s enough” Zainab said and pulled my plate. “Your duty here is to keep our husband happy so don’t keep him waiting.”

I was confused as the room remained quiet. I viewed each woman’s face over the candle light lit room. No one said anything else. I pushed my legs through the long passage that led to Alhaji’s room. As soon as I tapped, the door opened for me. There he was unclad from chest up with so much hairs on display. I felt my stomach tighten. As he pushed my veil to the floor leading me gently to the bed, I took the last option I had. I swallowed the poisonous leaves that I plucked from my father’s compound and hid inside my dress.

FREEDOM

FREEDOM

TOSIN
c or run away? How come I have no one to save me? No one understands. All they can see is that poverty will be lifted from my home. After all, just 500 cowries are enough to make any man rich in my village. No one cares that his last three wives died during childbirth. He marries them young - evil old man!
“Tito! You are about to be married, is this how you will wash your husband’s clothes to a tear?!” My mother’s words bring me back from my
thoughts. “My beautiful daughter suppress your marriage jitters, forget your worries and be a good and obedient wife” Mama said with a stern gaze.
“But Mama, does that mean my opinion doesn’t matter at all?!” I cried.
“My dear, we all know what’s best for you; besides you are truly blessed by the gods to have found such a good and rich man look our way.” Mama admonished
AISHA
I let the tears roll down slowly. I couldn't object. My mom put the beads on my neck gently, smiling and saying words of blessings but to me they were curses. My best friend Adama came into my room all smiles and cheers, "Tito have you seen the big tubers of yams and other gifts outside
your compound? He bought more than papa told him for your list" she joyfully clapped her hands I didn't say anything. I couldn't. I had explained to my best friend Adama how I never wanted to get married – how I wanted to go to school, have
my own shop and make my own name - but she laughed and told me to speak quietly. Women in our community were born for one reason - MORE FEMALE CHILDREN.
Men had 5 or 6 wives to them - a sign of their wealth. But my father had only my mother, I was proud of their union and prayed that one day mine would be like theirs but I see that it would never. I would never have the chance to be who I want to be.
"Tito wipe the tears from your eyes!" my mother said "don't let your husband see you like this"
"Tito she is right, do you know how lucky you are? Your husband will provide for you, you will live in the biggest compound and your farm lands will be almost as large as this community. Tito you are truly lucky" Adama said, day-dreaming again. She had always wanted to be a wife, it
wasn't a bad thing. But being a wife to the man I'm about to call a husband is a death sentence. I look between my mother and friend this may be the last time I'll see them.
I looked at myself in the mirror. I am painfully beautiful today.
“Why me?!” I mutter under my breath.
ESE
Mama led me to where the villagers were gathered. The women who followed behind us were chanting songs of celebration.
"Tito, at least smile a little. It is not every day one gets to celebrate like this" mama said as she joined the women in their singing and dancing.
They took me to Alhaji and sat me on his laps. I stole a quick glance at him, he looked to me like he was excited but not in a good way. I looked at other girls my age also at the ceremony brewing with jealousy.
"If only we could swap places" I thought out loud and then realized Alhaji might have heard me.
"Are you alright Tito?" He asked touching my face as if to wipe the tears that were already gathering below my eyes.
"Don't mind her! She is just sad that she would be far from home, that's all" papa said as he poured himself a glass of dry gin.
After the ceremony, the women carried my clothes basket and many other gifts to Alhaji's car. Mama had given me some of her fine wrappers and even taught me how to tie them.
"Do everything you can to keep Alhaji happy" she whispered in my ears and then hugged me. Adama was standing afar off waving at me as the car drove off.

to be continued...

PURPLE DEVIL

ESE
Tina trembled as she left with the police men. Aderemi's gaze at her was like a tiger waiting for an opportunity to strike. He had warned her earlier to stick to the plan for he would not hesitate to get rid of her if he perceived her a threat.
I couldn't believe Aderemi could Mastermind an evil plot against me. We had been friends since I could remember.
I raised my hands to strike him but I couldn't, I tried again not knowing that I was on the other side of existence and can't come in contact with this side of the living.
"Tina why?" I asked rhetorically as she tearfully wrote her report at the police station. Aderemi was consoling her from behind. "Don't rest until you find the monsters who did this to my man" Aderemi said to the police man as he gently pulled Tina from the station.
"Are you just going to let them go? Can't you realize that they just

put on a show?" I said looking at the police officers in charge.

VICTORY
Of course they can't hear me. I decided to pause for a moment. It all still felt surreal. Just a few hours ago I was having the party of my life and now. I'm stuck in limbo, forced to watch the traitors who ruined my life get away with it? This wasn't the least bit right!
As I walked out of the police station trying to piece my thoughts together, unsure what to do about any of this, a voice interrupted my thoughts. It was odd. Somewhere in my mind, I had concluded that I was forever alone on this ethereal plane but I was sure this voice was referring to me.
"Are you okay?" it asked again
I turned towards the source, perplexed.
"You can see and hear me?"
"I'm neither blind nor deaf. Your shirt looks very dirty, is that blood?"
I sized her up in a few glances before looking at my shirt. It was a messy sight, I had coughed up a lot of blood in my final moments. Irritating as this girl was, she was currently my only link to the physical world. There was just one problem. She seemed barely 13 years old.

DORCAS

"The code of trust was broken; in exchange for your good deeds,
you're trapped in this place forlorn. I fear for you, for this is just a tip of the iceberg, a fraction of what is to come. Your soul is doomed", the little girl said.
“But who are you little girl?” I questioned.
"Just call me purple devil". She replied abruptly.
"Whatever that means. I'm happy you can see me.” I said excitedly.
“Aderemi betrayed me because of a girl. I can't be seen nor heard, I can't believe I'm dead". I lamented.
“I need help! I came to help you, because you also helped me during one of my numerous outings to your planet. On that day I took the form of a child, purple is an allergy for me so I couldn't go past a purple rope on the floor and I screamed hard because I was trapped and my time on your planet was running fast. You helped me take off the rope. I knew I'd repay the kindness, someday." With a tap to my head, I tumbled and tumbled and tumbled until I sneezed in the morgue. Everyone ran. The strong stood and captured the rising dead.

PURPLE DEVIL

TOSIN
“Wow, this is a great turn out! I can’t believe you pulled such crowd in just a few hours.” Aderemi said to me grinning widely while exchanging pleasantries.
Happiness was radiating from every pore of my skin. Sexy babes,
different curves and complexion; the movers and the shakers of the
industry were all gathered; I have never felt this proud of myself like now.

It was not just a birthday celebration; I just signed the biggest deal of my music career. I was on top of the world.

“Hmm, I must be tipsy from the different drinks I have had tonight.” I thought, as I felt my senses begin to slowly give way. Finally, the M.C called for my birthday song and toast and the dance floor was lit. The last time I checked my gold plated wristwatch, it was 11pm. Not long after, my sight gave way as a sharp pain took over my body. I only heard glasses crash and my body hit the floor.
“What is happening to me? Someone help me!” I shouted but I

couldn’t even hear my voice. 

“Thank Goodness! I feel and see better now.”

Then I saw that my friends surround someone; some were taking pictures.
“That looks like me!” I shouted. Aderemi was crying, moving around with a phone to his ear. I guess he was calling my family, or the cops.
“What just happened?! Why can’t anybody see me? But, today is my birthday...”

SUCCESSA

"What are you all doing? Can't someone help me off the floor?"
I searched for Aderemi. I'm sure if I can find him, he'd be able to hear me."Guy, we had better leave this place now, before the police arrive."
Koko said following Aderemi.
"Koko just shut your mouth and let me concentrate on what's next. If you had not been so stupid as to overlace his drink, Tina would have had a good time to make him sign over the cheque before he gave in to the drug's effect."
I saw Aderemi dial Tina's mobile, “Come over to the room you and Tayo booked for the party. Next on the list is to take care of Koko, else the lily-livered bird would sing to the police.”
I was supposed to feel hurt but I realized I could feel nothing so I followed my friend on. The sight that greeted Tina on her arrival to the room, would have made her merry heart laugh, had she not been too shocked at Aderemi's capacity for evil in one night. It finally dawned on her that she had been living a fool's dream to imagine she loved him and not sweet Tayo. Meantime, she resolved to play his game his way, for safety sake.

"I see you've killed Koko to keep him shut... What do we do next?"

JILAMS
"We wait for the police to do their investigation" Aderemi replied
"There will be so many suspects because of the number of people at the party. We just have to play the part of grieving friends" he continued
Tina nodded in agreement, but she already regretted being part of this plan; she regretted ever being fooled by Aderemi's charm and wit. She regretted betraying Tayo. Right now, she wished to go back in time to undo everything.
The noise of the ambulance coupled with the siren of the police brought her out of her reverie.
The Police Superintendent came in, supervised the evacuation of the body and in a baritone said
"The rest of you are coming with me to the station so we can take
your statement" I watched as my best friend Aderemi signaled my girlfriend, Tina to stick to the story or else she will be next. I wonder just how thick, this conspiracy stretches...

TO BE CONTINUED...

THE VERDICT

ESE
He quickly thought about one of his old friends who was a private
inspector. If he was going to be vindicated from a crime he didn't commit, he would have to go back to the scene where it all started to get the facts right. He asked to make a call and he was granted so he immediately called Mohammed.
"... your boy is in trouble...I need your help now." Dele said with
panic in his voice. He knew Mohammed was the best man for the job but he wasn't sure how he was going to solve the mystery in one day. He needed more time but it was impossible to convince anyone as the victim was a superior sergeant. Femi had his gun that very day but he never fired.
He knew he couldn't have been so careless that a shot be fired from his own gun and he wouldn't have known about it. The only information that baffled him was that the shot fired was from around the corner where he sat.
"Did someone set me up?” he wondered continuously and Muhammad arrived to visit him.
"Who were the officers present that day and what working
relationship do you have with them?" Muhammad asked fully ready for work.

PEACE

”My Oga... There were three other officers with myself and the
inspector. And we're all good. We’ve never had any rancor or a reason to" Sergeant Femi said with a swollen face.
Muhammad removed his glasses letting it dangle on his chest with the lace around his neck keeping it in place. He wiped his face and stirred unconvincingly at Femi. Then snorted out; “Are you sure?”
Without waiting for response he picked up and left for the crime scene where he searched for traces of any clues to help his old friend.
Sergent Femi was more than convinced that there was an outsider, who had taken the shot. Halfway through the bush around the shade, Muhammad stopped in his tracks.
"Can you remember who else was there when the shot was taken
aside the officers on duty with you?" Muhammad asked on his return to the station. Femi tapped his head severally in a bid to recall. Suddenly, some came flooding in.
“Yes, yes… a young man looking all scruffy, dark skinned, average

height, with dark brown eyes. The officers were checking his papers or something” Femi said sharply. Muhammad nodded in approval. He was convinced now that the investigation had a strong lead, but how to get one of the officers to agree with him had him 

perturbed.

DORCAS

Having concluded the ritual processes in three days, Dele and Faji
prepared to return to Lagos - their abode. As their custom was, they never plied the same route they came by. However that fateful day, their plan took a different turn.
"Faji, that route is shorter,” Dele said. “Trust me we can go by it
again". He added.
"E be like say you wan die abi? Which time we don take one road two times?" Faji replied in a pidgin be laden tone.
"I've never seen dumb police men like those ones we met before,
believe me. No one even took any cognizance of our identity. Didn't you see how they fled like puppies?” Dele said mockingly.
"This plenty English wey you dey talk dey worry you. Me I never
wan die. I wan enjoy my money for long o. But na true, nothing fit happen.
Na the first time your English dey produce better talk be this. Oya make we take am." Faji concluded.
They hummed along as music blared from the speaker of the car,
each one thinking of how to spend his billions from the just concluded ritual.
"Fuck their father. Who say money no sweet?" Faji screamed in
ecstasy.
“Without money hide your face… Or how did that popular artiste
say it again?”
“If you no get money, hide your face…” Faji corrected him as their
laughter faded to a comfortable silence – each man lost in his own ecstatic thoughts. They couldn't wait to enter into Lagos not with the numerous parties laying in wait for them.

SANDRA

Their joys were short lived however. Muhammad had taken the mission very personal and had questioned every officer on duty by hook or crook as they prepared to lay the body of the commandant to rest in a couple of hours by the cemetery which happened to be close to his last duty post in his locale.
Soon a green rickety Peugeot came rolling by with no intention to stop.
“You should slow down. We’re almost at the check point.” Dele said amidst the smoke filled car.
“Maa pa wan danu. I go kill any motherfucka wey stand for road
today.” Muhammad and the other officers in duty rushed and opened fire at the vehicle refusing to stop after flagging them down severally.
After the vehicle hit a tree trunk, one of the police officers identified the one of the boys as the same young man at the check point the day the commandant was killed. Searching the car, they found some huge sums that were un accounted for and some weapons including a hunting gun at under the seat of the car.
It was identified as the bullet that killed the commandant years after
Sergeant Femi had been hung to death for the crime he really had not committed.

THE END

NIGERIA AT 58 - MY FIRST LOVE

MY FIRST LOVE

Under the rain, we ran. Struggling as we strived to have a view of the minister of education on the Independence day celebration many years ago. Our voices fell and rose as we chanted the national mantra cumbered with a deep believe in its lines.
Some of us closed our eyes to further derive it's meaning - line by line.
In rows we marched, saluting at every stop as we approached the major arena. 

We were young and filled with innocence to the brim. Our heavily starched uniforms gummed to our frames as we perspired.

The line "to serve Nigeria with all my strength" makes me cringe today. The realisation that we've strayed away from serving the country we pledged allegiance to - as age takes its toll - hits me hard in the right places.  

I remember how I watched Obi quote great figures for a contract he needed a few thousands for in the office a week ago. I remember how Mr Tukur's wife and children - even the ones unborn - receive huge amounts of money monthly as ghost workers at the local government secretariat.

Tears stream down my face today. It's another day of celebration, laden with sober reflections, mixed feelings, wishes and hopes.  "She can't swim across her hurdles", I hear some whisper. "Her leaders are her problem," some others murmur,
"I regret being her citizen" others scream.

But I see a future!

I see a nation void of corruption and ill fate! If only we'll pick up our mantles,  renew our pledges,  reinforce our strengths and make the change we so much crave for happen via the change we make in ourselves.

A N D R E W  D O R C A S

NIGERIS AT 58 - HOMELAND - The Future

HOMELAND - The Future

"Happy independence grandma! Please tell me the story about the end of the war again!" Six years old Kachi bubbled with excitement.
"Hei! Kachi! You and stories! at 5am in the morning?"
"Yes grandma, you promised. We watched the independence day video in school last week and they told us Nigeria will celebrate her birthday today."
In all her seventy-five years of living, Grandma Ekene still believes that the youth are the leaders of tomorrow; though it bothers her that the youths themselves lack faith in their capacity to lead. This has made her tell her grandchild all she could recall about the years that gave birth to her nation Nigeria. Kachi's mother believes this to be premature, but like Grandma would always say "if the young ones do not grow knowing their nation, they will grow up to meet her as a stranger and not family. If and only we can catch them young."
"Nne, I will not tell you about the war today. Today, I want to tell you what will make Nigeria happy in future-birth anniversaries to come. Nigeria is not happy on her 58th birthday, because her children refuse to look to the future. They mourn her woes, but never celebrate her wins. They speak more words of condemnation, than they do of praise. They focus on one another's differences as a symbol of separation, rather than a chain of strength. So, Nigeria weeps on her day of joy, because her children do not want to see the strength in their number, nor do they use it to oust the few who oppress them. She needs you to make her happy again."
"Grandma, I don't like Nigeria crying on her birthday, make her stop."
"I am old and weak Kachi nwam, but you will wipe her tears someday. Just remember that she needs you."
"Okay grandma, I will make Nigeria happy again."

Successa Hillary

NIGERIA AT 58 - REBIRTH

REBIRTH

Staring at the wide expanse of the ocean, prepared to end my existence. My wildest imaginations never saw this day but here I am…
At 58, I have lived and seen all expensive trips to Dubai, Amsterdam, and Dublin all with different sheiks and moneybag Alhajis. I have more money than I can spend in this lifetime. I have had the biggest and hottest men one could think of but now I feel dirty, smelly, and empty!
My life force exhausted yet the ocean hides its face from me

I was once called Precious - the daughter every parent wanted - but I have soiled my hands with blood. My parents in their grave curse me as their hearts ache at my deeds.
“Woe unto you Shile cursed and reviled of all children!”

It’s the dawn of my birthday! A surprise party awaits me from my frenemies. It starts today exchanging my fake and caged existence for freedom, love, and hope. I will give and bring positive transformation to my world…

I am Olashile; beautiful, black and strong.
I am the daughter of the sea; I flow with the winds; I am one with mother earth, so my colors are white and green.

My pedigree is of ancient heroes so if I fall I will rise again.

The odds are ever against me but I’ve been reborn at 58, and I believe my forever story will motivate others like me that change is possible… 

~ Olanrewaju Oluwatosin.

HAPPY INDEPENDENCE NIGERIA - GREEN

GREEN

As a kid, life used to be very simple and stress-free. I'd run around in the streets with children from other houses, regardless of the tribes and backgrounds. We'd play together in whatever atmosphere and weather. I only had thoughts about how to play, eat and sleep. My parents did the struggle after all...

There's a mantra we often chanted;
"We are the leaders of tomorrow".

As I grew into adulthood, reality struck and then I realized that
"Life is actually not a bed of roses "
I've had to taste the bitter part alongside the sweet part of it.. I've had to deal with emotional conflicts, pressure from peers and the society. Maturity came at an early time.

"The society will never give you what you want, you will always have to go for it"
These are the words of my teacher. Sooner than later, I realized the truth in the expression.
My heart aches for a time when the green crops in the savannah would grow without any threat of being consumed by pests and rodents.

YEMIGHTWORDS

THE VERDICT

TOLU
"Kakkka" is all I heard. I was about opening the second page of the
papers with me while on my daily duty on the federal highway. I turned back, cocked my gun as other cops dodged in the bush.
"Oga! Oh my God!" I shouted. "Wetin happen? Who be that?" Two of my fled colleagues hopped out of the bush. We moved closer to the scene; a thatched roof spot beside the road.
"I didn't do it. Sir, please talk to me. Who has done this? Guys, you
have to believe me I don't know who shot the gun" Sergeant Femi said. The words flowed out of his wide mouth like a dubbed cassette player. He is known as a trigger-loving cop by fellow officers. Who would doubt if he had not pulled the trigger on his superior officer even though there is no bad blood between the pair. The two were the only ones under the thatched spot. Femi's pistol was flaunted in his right hand as the superintendent bled from his massive belly.
"My paper, oga police". The guy whose paper I withheld shouted as

our van was set for an emergency rescue mission.

SUCCESSA
"Guy let's move it quickly, we are running behind schedule" Faji
shouted as he ran out of the bush to rejoin Dele in the car.
They had to deliver the head in the booth before 4pm. It was already 3:15pm and they had one more checkpoint to cross before getting to safety zone.
Thanks to the ingenious plans they made ahead of time. Faji had left the car a short distance before they got to the police check point. He had snuck into the bush behind the shade occupied by two police officers and shot at the one that looked like he commanded more respect. The rest had panicked, forgetting to complete their duty.
"Hahahaha..." Faji couldn't control himself now as he remembered
their short, but comical reaction at the sound of the gunshots.
Dele behind the wheel, catching on immediately, joined in the mirth; as he remembered how he had to act the innocent driver to get the car's particulars back.
"No doubt, they will blame the one with him" Commented Dele
amidst laughter. If they only realized how luck agreed with them at that point; having allowed them play into hands of the infamous trigger happy Sergeant Femi. However, posterity awaited them, not too far away.

AISHA

Dele’s heart was racing as he thought of the heads in his trunk bumping.
He was used to the feeling. It wasn't the first time he was delivering heads, but this time it was more risky. Too much check points, all the crisis in Nigeria was making the job more difficult transporting the goods. The problem was even more now as Faji had shot the commandant.
They parked the car at the bumpy rough road that had a military check point sign ahead. Faji looked around and didn't see anyone. He smiled coldly at the thought of having to shoot another person that same day. Dele took the heads out of the trunk, blood dripped slowly from the sack. Dele led the way. He knew the way like the back of his hand. Faji only brought two heads - that of his mother-in-law and a girl who had turned down his advances online and humiliated him - how silly she was.
Back at the check points the other officers had gathered around Sergent Femi even as police officers were ready to take justice into their own hands at that moment. They dragged him and tied him to the police van.

JILAMS

Sergeant Femi saw his life flashed before his eyes as his fellow officers beat him to within an inch of his life. True, he had gained a reputation for being a trigger-happy sergeant, but he wouldn't dare kill his superior, much less a man he considered a father.
How could he explain it? How can he prove his innocence? He wondered despite the lynching "Will you all stop this nonsense already?” the DPO had been notified of the incident and had quickly made his way to the scene.
"Oga, na him kill inspector", one of the officers replied in pidgin
English.
"He is a suspect and we also need to know his motive for his barbaric act, that is why you should take him to the station and lock him up" the DPO ordered.
Grudgingly, they obliged and Sergeant Femi knew that it was
because they would rather have him dead than wait for all the lengthy bureaucratic process. Well, the inspector was a man who was loved and it seems an injustice to let the perpetrator to live another day.
Femi thought to himself, “I will have to use this extra day to prove my innocence”, he just had to.

TO BE CONTINUED...

HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY NIGERIA! - CASTED

CASTED 

I was young and knew little about what happened around me, when I first heard that Nigeria is the giant of Africa, rich in Natural resources and crude potentials.
I remembered vividly asking my mum,
"Mummy why does daddy always return from work looking miserable and disappointed? Always complaining of fraudulent government and corruption? isn't Nigeria a rich country?".

She said to me, "Bambi you are still young to understand the menace of this country. Nigeria is casted. I pray things get better before you become an adult."

When I graduated from primary school, I was sent to a government secondary school. I cried my eyes out while gazing at the school and its environment. What sprang up in my head was to run. "To where?" I muttered beneath my breath. Poor infrastructures, no good classrooms, no toilet, teachers were reluctant to teach... They constantly go on strike when they don't get paid. I thought, "Where are the revenues allocated to education in the country?"

Stepping into state higher institution, what I saw contradicted my initial mindset about universities. Lecturers want students to sort them, even after sleepless nights of jacking. Some lecturers threaten to fail students if they don't have sexual intercourse with them. Poor teaching system, injustice during SUG elections, cultist activities and so on. 

Bribery and corruption at all levels, looting of money, constant genocide and massacre. I remembered when mum told me she prayed things got better before I became an adult. I am afraid to say, but the change is infinitesimal. No one can save us from this perilous time, unless we do.
Rise up Nigerians! In the spirit of independence:
Say No to corruption!Say No to bad government!
Say No to callous killings!
Show love to your fellow Nigerians and vote wisely in the coming 2019 election. #onelove.
      
> Okenwa Stella <

HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY NIGERIA! - HOPE: The Northern star

HOPE: The Northern star

The struggle for independence brought people together and our demands were non-negotiable.
We had a singular purpose which transcended all the differences in tribes and culture.
Our unity in diversity brought us our freedom. However, with freedom came it's price - Tribalism, mistrust, marginalization all sprung out from our actions.
First came the coup, followed by the civil war which heralded the need for a United nation.

Everything done in time past till now: productive or counterproductive has always been towards it's unity, but our thoughts and minds always longed for that unity that was never replicated since independence. 

'The labors of our heroes past' is collectively agreed on, but individually acted upon.
Everyone sees the complications in the myriads of problems, but no one sees the simplicity in the solutions.
Dreams may be damaged, but not destroyed. This independence brings with it a solemn reflection of what we have been through and ignites a sense of hope, however faint it may be.
This is because hope is all we have. It's our Northern star, it's how we find our way back. It's how we make Nigeria our dream home.
Happy Independence Day, Nigeria.

JILAMS ODIGWE

NIGERIA AT 58 - NIGERIA IN TALES

NIGERIA IN TALES

"God blessed the day I gave birth to her" mama said. "She was chubby and beautiful in her charming black colour;  the world marveled at her birth". There was no electricity to charge my phone so as to record mama's voice but I grabbed my writing pad and pen to keep up with mama's pace as she told her story. "My darling daughter Nigeria, inherited a land flowing with milk and honey. All things were at her disposal. She gave birth to triplets named Madu, Mohammed and Mayowa" I shortened the names to MMM so as not to dull the old lady. "The whites wooed my daughter and almost took all her belongings but my grandsons got it back as they became independent in 1960" mama said as tears rolled down her eyelids.
"What is it mama?"

"Haaa! My grandsons couldn't hold down their land because of greed and many other things I can't tell you because of your wavy hands. Well, out of them were raised soldiers who took power  by force. Hmmm! Sounds of gun made me a Parkinson's disease patient. Nigeria suffered despite what the creator blessed her with". If my hands were wavy I had to show mama I don't have Parkinson's disease so I was in line with her words. 

"The soldiers for my sake exchanged baton with my darling children that wore robes as their first leaders. I thought our pain would be no more but it has been struggles since then; almost two decades of democracy my son. Injury between siblings have been threatened; insecurity has governed the land; some people enrich their pockets while some are kicked when picking the crumbs from their tables". I frowned at the last statement and dropped my pen. "No cause for alarm son, it will get better. The fact that you can still write about my daughter shows you will all stand to feed and nourish her".
"No space in my writing pad again mama. I'll keep the last saying in my mind and join to heal her land". She nodded.

TOLULOPE FASUYI

NIGERIA AT 58 - I QUIT

I QUIT

I have always been different from the others. Quite larger in size frankly and couldn't be part of the 'one size fits all' party. So they named me many names and taught me to call myself same names I detested.

They think I cannot hear their whispering. They think I don't hear how they laugh when my back is turned. My siblings adorn me with titles they believe I need for my self esteem but when I look in their eyes, I see the same judgement like these strangers on the streets - so I quit!

As the strong smell of sea water serenaded my senses while I stood at the edge of the bridge, a firm hand grabbed me before I let go; his husky voice floated across the wind like music to my ears,

"You still have one fight left in you. Don't go down without giving it your all."

While I wondered how he understood my struggles, his words sank deep and I realized that, that was all I needed to hear all the while as memories came flooding my eyes with tears. As he helped me back to the other side, I rubbed my skin and felt the scars that reminded me of how I came to be - my independence and then becoming a republic - and the many sacrifices in between.
"Who are you?" I muttered under my breath,
"A firm believer in you and your capabilities, my darling."
"Me and my capabilities?" I laughed painfully, "You have no idea" I muttered,
"Your strength lays untapped within while you focus on frivolous outward distractions. Look within and invest in your young potentials."

He was right. I had focused so much on what they said about me, what they felt I was or their predictions for my destiny and had forgotten to nourish my inner self. 

Every cell in me matters. Every breath I took matters. Every part of me matters and I will start investing in the whole of me.
"You have one more fight in you, will you fight?" his once soft voice bellowed amidst a question and an order, I trembled but nodded in affirmation.
"I have one more fight in me, I will fight! " he made me repeat till I believed it. Then I woke up.
"A real dream." I sighed.

Sandra T. Adeyeye

NEMESIS

PEACE
"Denrele! Denrele!... You seem not to understand anything from
what I've taught you all these years" Denrele's Father Shouted.
The war between the two families didn't just happen. Shola's Family got tangled in this with the ex-military colonel - Denrele's Father - who has grown bitter with greed and hate.
"I've told you before, do not get involved with Shola. He’s to be
eliminated, just like his father should have been..." He continued.
Denrele dropped his head into his palms and walked his fingers through his scruffy looking hair in a bid to think faster.
"Dad, I'll do what needs to be done." Denrele grudgingly said, and
stormed out of the room.

ESE

"Yes, this is Thor. Who is this?" He asked not wanting to jump into
conclusions for he had perceived it was Denrele from the moment he said hello.
Denrele and Shola were like little brothers to him but he had
favourited Denrele whom he said had a stronger and more willing spirit.
"It's Denrele" the caller finally said with a tone that carried an iota
of fear. He knew immediately that there was trouble and Denrele had tried to handle it all by himself but had made matters worse. The snake had bit him hard and only he could take out the poison.
"What is the problem Denrele?" He asked without waiting for him
to open up.
"It's Shola."

SAMUEL

Denrele explained the situation to Thor, their malicious and dreaded godfather and they had contrived a plan on how to deal with Shola. If only he knew that Thor was the heart of everything happening.
They set out late around 9pm that very day, driving through the street lit road to Shola's comfortable apartment; stopping by his golden designed gate, both men, concealing pistols in their pockets, stepped out from the tinted vehicle with their veins pulsating with madness.
"You go first", Thor asserted.
Denlere nodded and marched forward bursting the gate open and
proceeding.
"Blaw! Blaw!" a pistol sounded outside, waking Shola from his
drunken slumber.

SANDRA

“Welcome home brother” Shola laughed as both friends pointed
their guns at each other.
“Home? Brother? How can you say such words after what you
did?” Denrele queried with irritation written all over his face.
“What I did? I never did anything than protect you and your
interest dude. You’re my brother...”
“... Shut up... stop saying it” Denrele screamed. He believed him
but he just could not understand how things could just fall apart. “If youdid not do it, then, we have been chasing ghosts and...”
A gunshot broke out straight to Shola’s head as Thor proceeded
from the darkness.
“It’s done.”
“No ooo” Denrele broke down. “Wrong target Thor... Wrong
target.”
“What do you mean?”
“He didn’t do it. I believe my brother did not do anything...”
“Yes, he did not. I did.” He shot Denrele in the stomach and
immediately kicked the gun out of his hand. “Guess I just have to fix this part of my plan myself” he said as he produced as folded picture from his jacket. “As you go to hell, you need to know the sin you committed so take a look at this picture... that’s my family. You rugged dirty scums invaded my cool city, raped my sisters and killed my parents because you felt you could get away with anything?”
Denrele rushed at him pushing him to the floor and twisting the
gun inward. One last shot.

THE END.

NEMESIS

TOLU

Denrele drove into the compound hitting the gateman at the back.
"Kai oga!" Abdullahi said faintly.
"If you dare open that gate tonight, you are gone, gone forever.
You hear me?" he shouted as he wheeled into his apartment. The
gateman lay on the floor with mouth wide open seeing another thriller from his boss' son. Denrele walked to and fro waiting for an idea to pop up.
"Huh! My plate number" he rushed out of the room to remove any
means of identifications as the gateman watched on from his apartment.
"Open this gate or else you are all gone!" Someone at the gate

thundered. Abdullahi shivered on hearing another military command within minutes. Gunshots into the air became sporadic as men in uniform surrounded the building and he heard the scampering footsteps and car tires screeching in the distance.

TOSIN

“What did Shola expect?! No one cheats me and gets away, No
way! Not after what he did.” Denrele shouted to an empty room. “He broke the brotherhood code so he has to pay for it. The brotherhood comes first! Did he think, I 'Denrele the Deadly' will let him go just like that? I just have to call daddy now, he will sought out this dogs on my scent…”
Denrele and Shola were bosom friends from their first year in university.
They joined the same fraternity in school and rose in ranks together.
Having plundered, threatened and exploited their way around campus.
The name of this two, cause even the fiercest of students and lecturers to

quake in their shoes. Now in their fourth year, a sudden wind blew - bosom friends turned into enemies. “What could be the cause?” Noisy whispers could be heard as various rumors waved across departments and lecture halls; but it has escalated now. It’s no longer a feud but a blood bath as corpse of young students litter the campus surroundings daily leaving many injured in the mad rush. The school premises has turned to a battlefield.

DORCAS

"More heads will roll! More families will cry for the demise of their children; until I, Shola get that son of a bitch down and pee on his fucking mangled body" he guffawed while his sagging fat sides quaked from the effect of his deep throated laughter.
To say he was obese for his age – 23 – would be an understatement. His teeth were all shades of brown and his breath reeked of pure tobacco. He held a rotund cigar in his hand and puffed on it with a long gold chain worth hundreds of pounds. His baggy trousers could take in hundreds of men with a bubu shoe encompassing his plump sturdy legs. Shola was spoilt from childhood. He had never made a result in his life.
All his results were either paid for or simply awarded out of fear of his father - a former minister and one time colonel in the army - who made sure he had everything.
"He thinks his good look gives him an edge over me but he seems
to have forgotten that I taught him the codes of fraternity and mentored his silly ass to maturity. The battle line has been drawn Denrele!” He smiled wickedly with vicious glints in his eyes as he puffed circles in the air.

JILAMS

Thor grinned as he realized his ingenious plan was becoming reality.
"I will destroy them", he had vowed. "For killing my beloved
family; I will eviscerate them". He had hatched this plan for months, outlining variables, eliminating probabilities until finally he created the perfect blueprint of a master plan with all alternatives covered.
Taking a family portrait of his family and looking at it "Denrele's father took everything from me, it’s time to return the favor", he said as if talking to the portrait. Putting it back in its place, he
sighed, "It's time for phase two.”

33 EXPORT: WHAT A FRIEND

33 EXPORT: WHAT A FRIEND

"Bro, we must to paint this community red o" these were the first lines I heard from Nedu. I knew that I was up to another exciting moment in the coming months as I was posted to Degema for my NYSC. I exchanged pleasantries with him; it was a matter of Lagos versus Aba in the battle of the street as we were bent on showing ourselves amongst the corps members. Our friendship began that day with a grand entry with a chilled crate of '33 export lager beer' out of the freezer where it has been imprisoned. Nedu grabbed the brownish ’33 export’ bottle with his long phalanges while I sipped as if my life depended on it. We were two characters that kept the corps member’s lodge lively. My friend has a way of stunning people with his big vocabularies while I’m a hell of humor monger.

During one of our CDS meetings, Nedu let loose after someone accused him falsely. He said ‘’What you’ve done is character assassination; image laundering; calumny at its peak.’’

He surely deserves a seat in the red chambers of our National Assembly. I immediately thought about what could cool Nedu down and concluded on the beer of friendship - ’33 export’.

There was a point in time we had to store ’33 export lager beer’ in our rooms since we couldn’t make it to the bar due to rites performed in the community. We surely had our plan B with the ’33 export’ can. We never stopped to play pranks on our colleagues until one day we met our waterloo. I declined to give Nedu an extra can of ’33 export lager beer’ in a Truth or Dare game. I head-butted a 6ft3 gangling Nedu who had dragged me like a police officer. The matter was settled in the next CDS meeting. 

We reconciled and reignited our friendship with a beer brewed for friendship - ’33 export’. Our friendship continued as usual until another day when he bought my gold chain. It has been on his wish-list but he finally got his hands on my priced belonging the night before he travelled out of the country. He paid me handsomely with a sum of fifty thousand naira. It was until the next day when I was about to celebrate my friend’s journey with ’33 export lager beer’ and barbecue that I realized he gave me counterfeit currencies.  Oh! My guy finally knocked me down with an uppercut that kept me off balance. Losing my priced asset wasn’t the issue but losing a friend whom I trusted hit my bone marrow. It was a horrible day as my colleagues mocked me. ‘’Aba boy has finally sold you to the task masters’’. I never heard from Nedu until two years after the youth service. 

‘Hello buddy, it is almost 4 years. It’s your bosom friend, Nedu’. I parked my car to avoid unforeseen circumstances as I read the message on my whatsapp. I had forgotten the deed of the past years as I laughed while reading his messages. ‘See you again tomorrow at your favorite lounge in Victoria Island. I can’t wait to grab a bottle of 33 export again’. The texts lifted my soul after a very hectic day at work. I couldn’t wait to take crates of ’33 export lager beer’ in exchange for my gold chain. The meeting with Nedu set a tone for a good life inspired by '33 export lager'. This has led me to always chorus ‘What a friend I have in 33 export, in him I have a story to tell’.

                                                                        

                                                              ~ TOLULOPE FASUYI

BOND OF FRIENDSHIP - STRONGER TOGETHER AND NOT APART!

Three jolly friends that’s what we've been to one another right from our senior secondary years. We were the kind of friends that were intelligent, smart and good looking. Our intelligence made us stand out from the rest of our mates and of course, we got the attention of the girls - even our seniors. Tunde, Emeka and I spent hours studying together; we were renowned for our pranks too. My teenage years was really fun, quite memorable.

We were the three best graduating students in our class; our WASSCE results were quite outstanding. I remember my dad had taken the three of us to a bar to celebrate our graduation since we also just aged 18. He celebrated our success and introduced us to 33 export lager beer, as the beer for real men. He taught us to drink responsibly and recognize our limits.

In retrospect, I think that was the happiest period of my life. We bonded over drinks and we made pacts to keep our friendship strong. Three months later, Emeka's parents got admission for him in South Africa and he moved there. I remember Tunde and I went with his family to the airport to say our goodbyes.

Strangely, Emeka's parting words to me were ‘Patrick do not let the bond of our friendship break. We are stronger together and not apart'.

It seems life has a way of testing bonds of relationships. If truly we trust ourselves enough; if we can forgive ourselves truly. Right now, I’m sipping my 33 export lager beer brooding and missing my lost friendship. I haven’t had a true friend ever since Tunde and I parted ways too.

Quite unfortunate was the cause of our rift, all because of a lady that caught our interest. Tunde and I got admitted to the same school but different faculties. We had met Cynthia with her friend at a club during our second year while chilling with our 33 export lager beer. We took interest in Cynthia but strangely we didn’t share how serious our individual interests were; so we secretly pursued and dated her till it blew up in our faces. Cynthia had been playing us and made us turn against each other to the extent we sabotaged one another’s trust.

Its been 4 years now and I have lost contact with him, our egos brought us to this point. On my part, I just wasn’t ready to accept that I was also at fault by allowing Cynthia to drive us apart. Emeka tried to help us reconcile but maybe due to his absence and the difficulty that comes with long distance phone calls we couldn’t compromise.

I got a call from Emeka yesterday night telling me he is back finally in Nigeria and he had been In contact with Tunde. He has scheduled a hangout for the three of us next week at the bar we had our first taste of beer - 33 export lager beer. He is quite convincing and persistent so I’m glad he has not given up on our friendship.

I look forward to our reunion, it's high time the past is buried. I can easily visualize it. Sipping the purely blended 33 export lager beer, catching up on times we’ve missed out on, building back our natural vibe and, making solid plans for our future. We have learned from our mistakes and I am excited by the possibilities of our future.

Truly! “We are stronger Together and not apart”.

                                                 - OLANREWAJU OLUWATOSIN

CHEERS TO FRIENDSHIP

At times like this, I just sit sober with my 33 export in one hand while I let the other hand wander inside my short. Don't ask 'why?' I really cannot talk about a habit that's as old as me. Anyway I just got a call from an old friend - Philip - whom I have tried to avoid since our graduation. He is getting married soon and wants to come over for a couple of days or weeks. Like seriously? Out of the blues. How did he even get my new numbers? Oh, yes, he said he called a friend that called a friend or something like that. 

Well, the reason I kept my distance was not farfetched. Philip was a thief. It seemed like he was born for it and I just got tired having to endure such an abusive and embarrassing friendship. He always stole my things and I was not the only one who complained every boy on our block - back in school - did.

I remember one day, way back in Uni at our favorite drinking joint plastered with wallpapers and posters of 33 export lager beer on their walls. It was home for us and our table was already crowded with the glue that bound us together no matter the times - 33 export; then she walked in. Amanda was my course mate and the only girl I had crush on for the past two years. Philip knew about her - technically - like I told him all I could about her with descriptions and all but guess what; when she walked in with her perfect height and curves she came to sit beside Philip on our table.

 Obviously she also had perfect taste - not for men but for the drink; because when she placed her order, it was the drink of friendship - 33 export. I wondered how she would choose my friend over me even though in my head she technically didn't know I existed. The worst part, the dude was wearing my shirt and one of my old sneaks yet he had my girl all wrapped around his finger while I sat miserably with no one noticing.

That was the hardest blow he ever dealt me after that one time he made me wear a dirty shirt to the exam hall while he took the only clean shirt in my closet as I took a shower. Till today, I never got that shirt back. He doesn't call it stealing by the way. He says he only borrows but of course borrowed stuffs never return as long as they are taken by Philip. Call me petty but Philip and I only met in school not the hood and if I couldn't find my clothes they somehow happened to be lost in his stack - still can't fathom how he manages to steal when my door is locked. Oh, did I mention I changed locks constantly when my 33 export started magically depleting from my fridge?

Now he's coming over to visit me before his wedding, I'm bracing up to be robbed of my house. Lol.
As annoying as he seems, the thought of Philip brings smiles to my face. He's just like that weird sibling you hate and love at the same time. What's more relaxing than fighting over everything yet settling scores with chilled bottles of 33 export?  The beer that is brewed for friendship.
So join me as I raise a glass of 33 export to my friend turned brother. 

Cheers.

                                                                  Sandra T. Adeyeye

HIS SECRET SIN

Being born a bastard might seem not to be of consequence in this age, especially with the baby mama fever of this generation, besides getting married is no longer in vogue rather the number of zeros behind a figure in your bank account is more important. This isn’t so in the late 1980s. As a boy the effect of been a bastard is 10 times worse. I was seen and called a nonentity and my mother was called a whore all because she got pregnant outside marriage. As a result of this, I had always purposed in my heart never to sire a bastard. That is what brought me to this state.

I’m in a conundrum of evil that I can’t seem to shake off neither can I run away; this is my life and I just have to keep pushing. No one forced me to marry her, I liked what I saw, I was struck and I couldn’t let go. This is the only explanation I can give for ever dating Olayinka.

Truly she is pretty, not just pretty but enchanting, her figure is worthy of drooling. Olayinka's eyes are like that of a doe - bright shiny eyes. That was my first thought when I met her at that party. Sincerely, I was struck, when I held her hands I was loathe to let go.

Since I was a tag along to the party in the first place, my eyes found something to gaze at and my idle mind rested on thoughts of her. Never in my wildest dreams could I have hoped to get her attention but luckily it seemed the feeling was mutual since Olayinka hardly left my company, to such an extent that, I really cannot remember who the birthday celebrant was.

A month after I started hanging out with Olayinka; I still found myself ensnared by her. In retrospect, I think I probably fell in love with her on our first date, because I spent all my spare time with her. Apart from running my business I only had time for Olayinka. Even my friends teased me endlessly because of this.

It all began when Yinka got pregnant, I was totally unprepared for this, after all the precautions. It was like a slap to my face to have sired a child out of wedlock and really, as much as I wanted her, I never thought about marriage not to talk about children. I never thought of having one really not with the kind of childhood I had.

This might seem cliché since I was in love with Yinka, but I just never saw myself as a father not to talk of someone’s husband, after all, I never had a Father. My mother was a free for all woman, she used the honey pot in between her thighs to survive. We never stayed in a place for too long, she had no opportunity to learn a trade since her family cast her out when she gave birth to me. She once told me she was gang raped in her community so she never knew who my father was. I was stupid to ask her that day, I realised that I was a child born out of pain. I am not sure if it was true but really, her life held nothing desirable. She died a year after, I was just fifteen.

I may not have much excuse, you judge me or pity me, I know I am a monster. After all, only a monster can treat lovely Yinka the way I do, I just know that having survived childhood from been sexually abused to gang beatings and still becoming successful, I have demons that I can’t seem to purge.

My greatest relief and pain is Yinka, I want her and still I don’t, I treat her horribly but I am not sure I can ever let her leave me. None of my friends know that I beat Yinka. Sometimes at least I try to control myself, but when the pain of my past gets hold of me I can seem to control my anger. The slightest provocation gets me off. I wonder how I kept it locked down for years even in the early months of my marriage, I tried to be there for her and Tiwatayo, but now, I just can’t handle it anymore. My heart grows cold at the sight of her, those times she reminds me of my mother and sometimes my heart warms and I remember how much I love her. I only told Yinka I was born a bastard she doesn’t know the half of it and really I can never let her carry the burden with me.

I just might be going crazy, every anniversary seems more like bondage, for my mind runs a flash back of all I have had to endure. My greatest sin was marrying her, she really doesn’t deserve to endure this pain with me. I’m on a journey of no return and I just can’t help but drag her along with me...