Monday, 18 March 2019

Stupid beggar.

    There once lived a beggar in a small town. The beggar walked daily in the local Bazaar and downtown area.   Everyone in town knew him for years. He was famous for his stupidity, and people made fun of him daily. Every single day, people showed him two coins; one silver and the other one gold, then they asked him to choose. He always chose the silver one which was less in value. New people used to come to visit after they heard about the stupid beggar. They offered him both coins just to see if the story was true. And when he did pick the silver coin, they started making fun of him. This became an ongoing habit for people for years. A kind by-passer heard the story and went to see this stupid beggar. When he saw that it was true and that the beggar was truly stupid, he felt bad. He got closer to the beggar and whispered in his ears: “The gold coin is worth more, when people offer you two coins pick the gold one. Then they will not laugh at you.” The beggar responded: “Thank you for your concern. You are a very kind man. But don’t worry I have been very smart all these years. If I take the gold coin, they would never pay me again. But each one of them have paid me many gold coins in total all these years. I may look stupid to them, but it was them that were naive. I am making a good living out of their stupidity.”  

Sunday, 17 March 2019

People from heaven by Laleh Chini.

After 16 years away from Iran, he decided to pay a visit. One day, he borrowed his brother’s car to re-live his good old days in Tehran. At a traffic light on a busy street, a 14-15 year-old boy asked for his permission to wash the windshield of the car. He nodded and the boy started to wash the windshield very fast and clean. He tipped the boy $20 USA. The boy asked: “Do you live in USA?” He said: “Yes.” The boy answered: “Can I give your money back and instead ask you some questions?” He said: “Have you had lunch? Let’s have lunch together.” The boy jumped into the car.   “How old are you my son?” He asked. The boy said: “16. I will graduate from high school this year.” He said: “Isn’t the age of graduation 18?” The boy said: “Yes, but I can graduate this year because I am a top student in the school.” He asked: “Why do you work my dear?” The boy responded: “I lost my father when I was 2 years old. My mother cooks for a wealthy family. My sister and I work too so we can pay the rent and expenses.” They went to a restaurant and talked for 2 hours. He was a smart boy; he even spoke English very well. The boy said: “Is it true that smart kids can get a scholarship and study in USA for free?” “Yes son, it is true. If you hand me all your documents I will follow up for you when I return to USA.” He said. He dropped the boy home after the restaurant and the boy promised to gather all his documents before the man returned to the US. After six months, with a help of his friend who was a lawyer, he sent an invitation to that 16 year-old boy. After another six months, his very kind wife and him picked the boy up from Los Angles airport. Two years after this date, the boy’s name was published in New York Times as the youngest Engineer of Modern Technology.  He was very proud of the boy. His wife sent an invitation to the boy’s mother and sister and brought them to USA. When they had dinner together one night, the boy was washing the man’s windshield. The man jumped towards the boy and said: “Why are you doing this?” The boy said: “I don’t want to ever forget how you changed my life.” The boy now is an important professor of Harvard University and their friendship never ended.

The lights by Esther

“Mummyyyyy” Gerald shouted, swallowing hard as he fumbled for the light switch. “Mummyyy” There was so sound, and he was afraid. This was why he hated this neighborhood. There was no sound. He liked his peace alright, but not the type that there was no house for miles. Miles. Who lived in places like this? His imagination started filling with the things he had watched about haunted houses. He had watched tons of them to show it to his mum to discourage her from making them move here, and now they were haunting him. His fingers finally found the switch, and as he touched it, he heard a sound. It sounded like…like rats running, but they stopped as as soon as he removed his hands. “Mummyy” He shouted louder, and dropped his school bag. He couldn’t see anything. There were no street lights. Nothing. He swallowed and glided his fingers slowly as he tried to find the switch again. This time, as his hands touched it, he heard the sounds of glasses breaking. Fuck fuck fuck He couldn’t even feel bad as the swear words filled his head. If only he had come back home at the right time, but no. He chose to hang out with Melinda. Melinda that would be enjoying meals as her personal cook served her. Not scared. Not shivering. Not…. He was even afraid to shout now. The silence was echoing loudly in his ears, and he felt sick. He lowered himself to the floor, hugging himself hard as he waited. Suddenly, a light flashed, and he buried his head between his hands which he cradled on top of his knee. It flashed again, and he raised his head, swallowing as he risked opening his eyes, and he saw a figure. A figure that was walking towards him. He stood up immediately, his heart racing, but unable to move. This was it. He was going to die today. Oh, and his mother was going to die too. Why did she do this to him? Why did she leave him at home? Why did she bring them to this house? He thought about all the karate moves he had taken at school, but he couldn’t muster the courage, not to talk of the the strength to do any. His limbs felt like jelly, but he held himself up. His hands were long buried in his pants, and he had the strong urge to take a piss. He was cold. The light from outside flashed again, and he screamed as he saw that the dark figure was righting front of him. Breathing down on him, And it smelt oddly like… “Mum!” *** “You’ve been using your eyes to follow me for hours since I got here. What is it?” Martha questioned as she adjusted the table cloth. Gerald shrugged, his eyes still intent on hers. “I don’t know…maybe I’m just concerned about you trying to prank me. You know? Like you did when I was fourteen? Do you remember?” Martha rolled her eyes and laughed as she shared a look with Prisca, Gerald’s wife. “It’s old now. I can’t pull that on you anymore.” Martha said, sniffing as she pulled her chair back and settled in. “Yes honey. She can’t.” Prisica said, agreeing with Martha as she joined them on the table. She dropped her hands lazily on his shoulder and just then the lights came off. She stood up, and Gerald grunted as he heard Prisca giggling. “Oh you’re now in on this too Prisca? Of course you are. I’m not falling for this. I’m going in.” He heard the two of them shuffling as he made to stand up, and he settled in his seat, shaking his head as he closed his eyes. His mum had pranked him that day. It was a few days to Halloween, and she was apparently only helping his dreams come true. She had read his dream diary about how he wanted to stay in a haunted house, and she had rented the house for them to stay in. It took two full weeks before he even let himself look at her. He was so annoyed. Mostly at himself, for getting scared, after all he was one of the major proponents of there being no such things as ghosts or haunted houses. Never mind that he dreamt about it. He stood up and ran his hands on the table, looking for his phone, and just then, the lights came on. His eyes found Prisca’s first, and they were glinting with mischief, and then he saw his Mum, whose eyes were teary. He looked at the both of them in quick succession, confused. “What is it?” He questioned as he walked towards them. Just them, Prisca giggled and walked to him. Her hands left her back, and in his face, she held up a diaper. He looked to his Mum, who was smiling hard, and Prisca who looked to be containing her excitement. It couldn’t really be. Could it? “You’re pregnant?” She nodded and jumped on him, hugging him hard. Gerald smiled as he gently removed the diaper that was quickly becoming molded to his neck. Hugging her hard as he walked her towards their room, his mum long forgotten, he smiled. At least this time the light revealed something wonderful.

Nigeria at a glance by Jemima.

“Iyanoba, volks!” a malnourished looking fellow hanging from a rickety bus cried out. The bus looked incapable of self propulsion; nevertheless, people gathered around it, swarming in. Who knew when the next bus would arrive? Inevitably, there was no space left as the victors sat uncomfortably in their infinitesimal thrones.

Taiwo, a bright looking young man sat close to the door, agonizing over the state of Nigeria. He was a first class graduate of law from the University of Lagos, and was on his way to Satellite Town to tell his parents that he had gotten a job, after six years of searching.


The bus was in motion.


Few hours later, screams arose from the Alakija bridge. A victim of jungle justice lay at the center, barely clinging on to life. A woman was yelling that the man had been knocked down by a container carrying fuel as people took pictures.



Earlier that day, a stone throw away from the scene, Eugene and his family were held up in traffic on their way to Shoprite in his brand new car as the song, Amaka, blasted from the speakers. His wife and three children sang along.


Suddenly, a man wearing a mask hit the window at the driver’s seat with a crowbar and broke the glass. He grabbed the phones, shot Eugene and, ran off. Eugene’s wife was screaming, his children were crying and Eugene was gone.


A man got down from the bus behind them and pursued the thief. An angry mob followed. The man caught up with thief on the bridge and collected the phones; the mob behind him arrived when the thief had fled but had little patience for what the man had to say. They put a tire around Taiwo’s neck and set him on fire.


Taiwo’s final words were, “what was my offence?”

PLS let's stop jungle justice. 


 


Saturday, 9 March 2019

Judgement by Laleh Chini.

A high school teacher started her class with a story:   “A couple went on a cruise to spend quality time together. The ship hit a seamount and instigated a big hole. Water was pouring into the ship uncontrollably. Everyone was rushing towards the lifeboats. When the couple got closer to the last lifeboat, they realized there was only one space left. The husband jumped into the lifeboat and it left immediately. The wife was devastated as she stared at the lifeboat and shouted: …….”     The teacher paused and said: “What do you think she shouted?” Many students had different answers.   One said: “She probably said ‘I hate you.’” Others said: “She definitely said ‘I wasted my life with you.’” – “Thanks for leaving me behind.” – “Men!” And more…. The teacher continued: “She shouted ‘take care of our daughter.’” Years passed and that man took care of their daughter, watched her grow up, get married, become a successful person and a wonderful mother to her children. He eventually got old and passed away. His daughter was very sad about losing such a kind father who had to play the role of a mother and father at the same time for her. She went through her father’s belongings after a while and found a diary. She read the diary and, in a part, she found out that her mother had an incurable disease and didn’t have much time left. Her father was so in love with her and was very sad knowing he was going to lose her. Her father suggested a last trip together to remember their last days with happiness. One of her father’s sentences was: “When we were running towards the lifeboats, you made me promise to find a way to get to our daughter. I promised you that I would take care of her. I wish that I could have stayed with you, held your hands and gone down into the ocean with you. I wish I could have embraced your caring heart and drowned in your kindness.”

Peace: A cry of our hearts by DeeWords.

I come from a land that flows not with milk and honey. I come from a land messed up with paintings of dishonesty and potraits of lies. They say the land I come from used to be a Greenfield turned into a battlefield. The land I come from is a paradoxical Hell on Earth. They say we’ve never had good leaders. The ones we elected or the ones who belligerently elected themselves. None was good. They set out with the goal of making things okay. Yes they did win but they never changed history. They sit in sophisticated offices. Amassing wealth and craving societal fame. But,they fail to see the millions who in wars have died. They fail to see how poverty has become our general challenge. They fail to see the flood caused by orphaned tears. Instead they recognize the number of houses that needs to be vandalized. For execution of unaccomplished projects. They recognize the number of people that needs to be laid off. They recognize the number of tear gas needed for riot control. Yet we watch With our mouths opened. Voices heard even in the Sahara. Drowning in our own rivers of tears. Blood. Chaos. We see the splatter everywhere. We know we need absolute peace. But our posterity is impaired with gross darkness. So we would believe in something called Hope. We’ll hope that we wouldn’t be homeless. We’ll hope that peace is restored. We’ll hope that sufferings cease to exist. We’ll hope that our Nation becomes great Because after the hate comes love. After the discord comes solidarity. After the famine comes abundance. And after the war comes peace.

Sunday, 24 February 2019

Foal by Laleh Chini.

  A university Professor was sharing an old memory with his class. He said: “I was at a red light deep in my thoughts, when I heard a long constant horn along with a sharp shout; ‘Hey foal-donkey, when are you going to move?’ The street was quiet with no traffic. At the next red light, our cars were side by side with the windows down. I turned my head, smiled and said: ‘First of all, did you know foal is a young donkey. Secondly, you should have called me jackass or jack-donkey. If I’m a donkey, then you must be Solomon since you can talk to an animals. And finally, I was deep into my thoughts and I am really sorry about that.’ The other man smiled back and said over and over again: ‘I am so sorry, there was no need to act the way I acted.’ I pointed to him to park at the side of the street. I had a half-eaten box of chocolate. When we parked, I walked out of the car with the ripped box of chocolate and offered him some. We talked a little and exchanged our phone numbers and we’ve been best friends ever since. There was a fight about to start but it ended with a friendship. Millions of people died in wars that could have easily been prevented with an apology or a smile. If someone can make you angry that means that person has power over you. Calm your anger with kindness, smiles and forgiveness. Solve misunderstandings by putting an effort to understand the circumstances.” 

Sunday, 10 February 2019

Total surrender by adewoleadeola5171

First the doctor said it was dysentery, then cholera and now acute malaria. Everyday of my life since I arrived at Igbokoda, one rural area in Ondo state has been hell. No good roads, no constant electricity compared to where I was coming from, no classy girls as friends and to seriously worsen my case, no network!!! I mean of all things, there’s no network in Igbokoda.

Let me quickly introduce myself so I don’t bore you with all my stories that touch. My name is Hailey meaning Highest praise. I come from a family of 4, my dad, mom and my naughty little brother. I’m just 16 but dad says I’m too mature for my age. My Mum is a Doctor and my Dad was a lecturer until he got ‘Called’ like he would put it. Well dad’s call got us all packing and saying goodbyes to everything and everyone in Lagos including my maternal grandparents, and so began our journey to Igbokoda.


Igbokoda like I’ve mentioned before is a very rural area filled with so much pollutions which made me a regular customer at their local hospital. The church dad pastored is a direct opposite of the sophisticated chapel we attended in Lekki but because we had to be good kids to strengthen dad’s ministry, I bottled up all resentments and complains. The only thing that brings joy is the every Friday pepper soup and catfish we get from the members of the church, it can’t be compared to the ones we had in Lagos, it’s worth the hype.
After settling down in our crumbled/crumpled building, I still wondered how I was going to survive another month in this place.


Now, I guess I haven’t mentioned this but I’m a Christian, a born again believer and this is one of the reasons why I had to follow my dad to our new home without throwing a lot of tantrums. But despite all that I do to make myself happy and belong, I feel like I’m at this dead end and I can’t make do of whatever it is that’s happening. In church, I don’t look happy and I heard they’ve already nicknamed me “Aruga baby” meaning ‘the proud baby’. And I’m definitely sure it’s not pride. It’s like something is bugging me, or I haven’t done something very important. I just couldn’t find answers to the numerous questions on my mind and it is looking like I would snap into depression anytime soon.
Sometimes last week, I was invited to this retreat by a classmate and I decided to go since mummy said going out would help me a lot. I went there basically to sightsee and relieve myself but halfway into the Apostle’s teaching, I knew better than to give those reasons up and concentrate. He spoke on submission and total surrendering of our lives to the God who gives life. Gradually, all enigmas started unfolding. I finally found a solution to my problem. I have been so bothered about the transfer issues that I never gave myself a chance to speak to God. I had reduced drastically in my relationship with God and even my parents. I didn’t want to know how my parents were keeping up, at least they sacrificed their jobs and left their comfort zone too. I was just too selfish to see.


So that night, I gave it all to my maker, the excuses, the pains, the bottled-up feelings and everything. I gave it up. I surrendered all to Him. And then for the first time in months, I heard the small still voice again
“OBEY ME AND I WILL ESTABLISH YOUR FAMILY IN THAT PROMISED LAND. I WILL SET YOUR FEET ON THE ROCK TO STAY. I AM THE LORD YOUR GOD WHO TAKES HOLD OF YOUR RIGHT HAND, I’LL SEE YOU THROUGH. FOR WHEREVER YOU GO, I HAVE GONE THERE BEFORE YOU AND I AM ALWAYS THERE WITH YOU”
Talk of words that soothes!!!
Talk of words that brings tears to the eyes, tears of everlasting joy!!!
Talk of words that makes the difference!!
This is our sixth month in Igbokoda and I can proudly say that the Lord has done more than he ever did for us while we were in Lagos. He gave us every reason to praise Him. Remember my name is Hailey!!


________________


Surrendering to God is not resignation or an excuse for laziness. It’s not associated with weakness. It’s not you giving up your dreams,desires and hopes for a purposeless life. Instead, it’s the exact opposite. It’s you enhancing your personality and not diminishing it. It’s you taking your hands off the steering wheel and placing it in God’s hand. It’s you saying ‘Yes Lord’ to whatever He asks you to do.


You see,the irony of life is that everybody eventually surrenders to something or someone;if you don’t surrender to God, you’ll surrender to people’s opinions about you, you’ll surrender to fear,to resentments,to depression,to money,to pride and ego. Now, you’re free to choose what you surrender to but you’re not free from the consequences of that choice. It’s either you surrender to Christ or you surrender to chaos. The choice is all yours. Now is your only chance to surrender to God.


Give in to God,come to terms with Him and everything will turn out just fine(Job 22:21)MSG.


Sunday, 3 February 2019

Free your bird by Laleh Chini

 There once was a little boy who had the cutest little bird. That beautiful bird was dear to his heart so he took care of it with passion and love.


He kept the bird’s cage beside him even when he went to bed. Everyone in the family knew how much this bird meant to him. He was the youngest child so the little boy’s siblings took advantage of him and made him do all their chores.



If he refused to do it, they threatened to free his bird into the sky. Poor little boy had to do all their work and not tell his parents, just to keep his bird safe in its cage.



As time passed, the little boy grew tired of his siblings’ abusive behaviors and no longer wanted to be their slave, so he decided to put an end to the torture.


One morning his older brother called him and said: “I wasn’t able to finish my homework, write it fast and neat or I will let your bird go. ”



 


The little boy calmly said: “Do your own homework, leave me alone. ”


His brother said: “Oh, great, so say goodbye to your bird. ”


The little boy responded: “I freed my bird last night. This was the only way to free myself from being your slave and put a stop to your ungrateful acts. ”



This is the story of all of us. The only difference is that, that bird to us could be; Power, Money, Position, Beauty, Education etc.


If we depend on these things in life we will never be able to free ourselves. We should try to have all the great positive things in life without becoming its slave.


 Copied from Laleh Chini.

Instagram avoicefromiran




 


 


Tuesday, 8 January 2019

A new year.

Welcome back to my blog guys, it's a new year with new expectations. 2018 is gone forever and is not coming back so we all have to look towards the future. Below are five things you should make sure you understand this year.
1. Have priorities; there is time for everything, time to sleep and time to be awake, time to play and time to work.
2. Pray regularly; whether you are Muslim or a Christian, it's important to pray.
3. Read. Readers are achievers.
4. Stop all addictions.
5. Stop childish thinking, we grow everyday so our mentality should also grow everyday. Think wisely.
I think that's all for now. Remember to tell a friend to tell another friend about my blog. Recommend my blog to others and you won't regret.

Friday, 28 December 2018

Fate of women- The four broken mirrors by Patrick stories.

THE FOUR BROKEN MIRRORS (TALES)


THE GOLDEN MIRROR


I was once beautiful, perfectly sculpted with gold clothing


My face clearer than the springs, smiles radiated from me


She greeted me naked, clothed, happy and I in turn showed her perfection


She was fulfilled and safe as was i, hidden from the faces of men


I stare into her soul as she does mine and innocence radiates


She was as pure as the sparkles from the diamonds


Then in the dark my back felt the crack as I kissed the ground


Slowly, painfully I could see the crack surface to my once perfect face


My glassy particles fell and her blood spilled


I was on the ground and she beside me barely clothed not by choice


My once beautifully sculpted back broken, her roses taken


I was broken and so was she


Our faces met, but darkness erupted


No more sparkles in her eyes, no more joy


Our secrets were taken from us by force


For the robber had stolen from us our purity and dignity


She put me back together, yet I am not whole for all I see is a hollow being


THE WOODEN MIRROR


I was alive before the earth invited her


My body as large as the whale, and yet sturdy and sound


I watched her walk with four limbs and they good enough


Till maturity decided otherwise


She once crawled close to my feet and greeted me with a smile


I looked into her soul and peace radiated


Every morning I had greeted her with her father and mother


He gave her kisses and gave me neatness


She was my friend and I her confidant


Her father became too busy and my face too cloudy


He missed days, then weeks before his presence became another’s


Her mother broken , became engulfed by drunkenness


I was rejected by her and she sought refuge at tables


Little by little she became bigger and I smaller


Till she could no more bear the being she saw in me


Depression arrived and I was forgotten


She became larger than I and once she looked at me only shame radiated


Till she greeted me for the last time with a fist


Then I was shattered


THE PLASTIC MIRROR


I was not specially clothed but I was bought with love


She took me from the slick tongue for notes


I arrived her home because of her journey


She was beautiful and ready to leave her home


Love had reached out its tentacles to her and she held on


Little by little I saw the signs; he was not good enough I felt at my first glance


There was something dark in his eyes and I could tell


To the aisles they headed and she was sold to slavery


Days into the nuptial Bliss, was a peaceful miss


Beautiful face, bright eyes and nose


She was happy or so she thought


Weeks passed and the real monster surfaced


At first black circles became friends with her eyes


She’d try to cover it up, but I always saw even down to vulnerability


The broken lips surfaced , handprints followed then blood


I was horrified at the figure before me


She was no longer the sweet lady that brought me home


She’d look at me and cry ,I her and mourn


He came back and she healed but I knew better.


Hit ! Kick ! Hit someone was pounding I felt


Then followed the scream


She ran into our room and then I saw the monster in his full form


Hit! Kick !push and with that she landed on my face


She looked at me and I saw in her what I had never seen before Rage


We lay side by side while he left


She in a pool of blood and I surrounded by my pieces


THE SILVER MIRROR


I was her most prized possession, she made me glow


Her mother would tie her hair in front of me and she’d look at me and smile


Her eyes were filled with love, it was more than a brown stream


We were the only ones in our kingdom as her father had left us in a coffin


Her mother sought the best for her and sometimes forgot who she was toiling for after all


Loneliness slapped us in the face and soon she spoke


Her mother pained, decided a little help was needed


The neighbour !


A week after he was ushered in and gave her the attention she needed


She always told how good he was and I did see truth to it


She showed me gifts and expressed her warmth and I saw that she had seen a father in him


Today she stormed in tear eyed, confused and scared


There was something she was not telling and I was her confidant


Moments after he followed with gifts ,but I thought he was forbade from entering our room


He begged like his life depended on it, then I noticed her limping


She was horrified and I confused.


Love had become fear in a matter of hours


She held her up and spoke harshly, she was never to mention to anyone he said


She fell and whimpered and he left


She crawled to me and looked at me with disgust


She pulled of her skirt, then saw I marks in the forbidden area


Blood!! Marks! Pain


I now understood what had happened


She shrieked away from me like I repelled her


Or was it who she saw in me that drove her away


For thirteen years I was her Friend but now she loathed me


I saw her cry and I died within me


When she arose she picked up the vase


And with a hard throw my body cracked and let out pieces


I was betrayed and she violated


She took a piece of me and sliced her wrists and I lay helplessly


As the blood bid her veins farewell


“Mother be on time” she whispered and with that she slept


Written by:


NWAGBARA MICHELLE NWAONU


Writer/Blogger


michael okpara university


Department of biochemistry


STRUCTURAL REVIEW ON THE TALES


THE FOUR BROKEN MIRRORS is a tale that tends to justify the women Fate which extends its mysterious manipulation using the broken mirrors. Here the writer was passing a message of rape, suicide,blood,death,rage, love turned sour and all its mess.


1.The Golden mirror (RAPE)


Most times women and ladies are victims of a robbery gone bad.


When the thieves don’t find valuables to take, the rape their female victims.This does not only happen in Nigeria but the whole world.Rape is a deadly form of abuse that affects the victim psychologically, emotionally, physically and even socially.The mirror tells the tale of a young lady full of life and bright till she’s faced with the trauma of rape.


2.The Wooden mirror(DEPRESSION)


Here in the tales of the wooden mirror,The child who used to enjoy a loving family is shattered by her parent’s divorce.She is depressed and fights it by eating a lot. Sometimes broken marriages affect the children more,which is why parents should always pay attention to their kids in such situations.Anyone going through difficult situations should learn to speak up,depression is a disease and should be treated as such.Here in the tales of the wooden mirror.


3.The Plastic mirror(ABUSIVE MARRIAGE)


Abusive marriages have been one err in the society that has brought many women to their early graves.Before tying the knot with any man make sure you look out for such signs.’ Is he hot tempered? ‘ Did he hit you while you were dating? or during courtship?


Don’t blow any signs off ,open up to people. When you find yourself in such situations as a lady please open to people, do not conceal your agony .


4.The Silver mirror(MOLESTATION)


Here in the tales of the wooden mirror,This tells of neglect on the part of the children. Here the writer is talking about molestation. Every parent should always make time for their children.Do not let work consume you and never leave your children in the hands of other people. The world is becoming evil ,uncles and other family members can also form one of this abusive behaviour on your child.Teach your children to speak up when someone does anything to them ,As a parent you should be their number one confidant.


Children(girls) within the age range of 6-15 have been constant victims of child molestation. It is our duty as women to curb that.


Here is a question for my fellow bloggers and readers:


1. What are you contribution,opinion and views about the tale?


2. What are the views about the four tales of women?


3. How can you connect this four tales about women in the society?


Please let me know all your reactions, views and insights in the comment box below!


Credited to :


Women who fight depression, molestation and thrive to be self independent, and to all feminist


WRITER CONTACT INFO


Facebook@ Nwagbara Michelle Nwaonu


Instagram@ NwagbaraMichelle


Email @ michellelittlenmm24@gmail.com


Writer@ Purple-ng.com/Michelle


Blog@themichelle1.wordpress.com


The love lotion by just.tolu

Call me crazy, call me delusional as my friends call me, I was in love with Chief Jaja’s son. I know it’s crazy because he’s way out of my league, but then I love him. At times I daydream about me being the main character in those cheesy romcom that Aunty Thelma brings from the city. I know i’m starting to sound stupid and all, but love makes you do and say the craziest things.

My friends defined what I felt for Chief Jaja’s son as an obsession but their opinion never mattered. They all never understood the love I had for him, nobody did.


I knew I was no match for the great chief Jaja’s son. But it won’t hurt to try at least. I was head over heels in love with him. he was always on my mind and he seemed to be everywhere I was.


My heart told me it was fate, my brain told me it was a mere coincidence. Either ways, I saw him everywhere and that was enough.


I tried my best to make him notice me, but who am I kidding. Why would he ever like a fat and obnoxious girl like me. Nobody really pays any attention to the fat girls. No one is ever going to fall in love with me.


But I just won’t give up on Chief Jaja’s son, at least he was the first boy to wave plus smile at me. I just couldn’t give up on the first boy who made my whole world feel special. I was ready to do anything just so He could love me.


Determined to win his heart, I went to Nkechi’s house. Her mother was the most popular herbalist in our village. After taking ages deciding if it was really worth it, I went anyways. Love costs everything even if it means going to a herbalist for spiritual help. I was definitely down for it.


“Are you sure you want to do this?” My friend Nkechi asked with so much fear in her eyes. She tried pleading with me to change my mind with her compelling black eyes. But no one could change my mind.


The road to the herbalist was short but terrifying. After an averagely long trek, we finally got there. The place oozed of dead animals or even worse.


I hailed Nkechi’s mum and explained my dilemma to her. She then gave me a white lotion which smelt like baby pears to me, but I waved it off. As if on cue she said.


“It doesn’t matter what it smells like my dear. Whenever you see him, just take a little potion of the love lotion and rub it on your face” she smiled.


I immediately thanked her and scrambled off not listening to the remaining things she mentioned. I was just so excited and couldn’t wait to go out with Chief Jaja’s son.


I waited till I saw him pass and he did. I quickly applied the love lotion on my face and gave him my biggest smile.


“Hey Rita right?” He smiled and stretched his hands out.


I never expected the lotion to work immediately.


I shook his hand and nodded


“I’m kindof lost, could you please direct me to Efu-”


“It’s pronounced Efuagarh” I teased.


He chuckled.


“I want to see a friend there”


I directed him and drooled while he walked away from me.


Sighh


“But wait o, nothing happened, maybe I should wait a bit. He’ll soon come running back into my arms”



Wednesday, 26 December 2018

A love story? by Seun Odukoya

The air-conditioning was on – but for some reason, the car was colder than it was moments ago.


Moments ago, when we left the cinema holding hands. It’s funny how physically close to someone you can be and yet be oceans apart. Sure, she was right next to me; I could smell the lingering scent of her body lotion mixed with her own smell, but I couldn’t guess what she was thinking. I wanted to ask her what; or make a witty comment about the movie we just watched –


But there was a look on her face that silenced me.


We were driving – or rather I was driving towards her house and the silence filled the car with sound. To hide my increasing nervousness, I pushed the radio power button – but she laid a hand across mine. I pushed the button again, turning the radio off but she still held onto my hand.


I turned towards her slightly, keeping one eye on the road. I had watched too many films of guys driving and being distracted by the women beside them. She was staring at me intently and frankly; I started to sweat around the balls.


‘Is anything wrong?’ I asked.


She swallowed. I started to feel the chill – a chill that had nothing to do with the car air-conditioning. My heart was beating so loudly I could feel it pounding against my eardrums. I held her hand back, realizing how cold it was. I pulled my hand free and turned off the air-conditioning – and then, I held her hand again.


‘I – I’m pregnant. Ba – Seun, I’m carrying your baby.’


You know, the reason I don’t answer all those ‘what would you do’ questions in those Facebook groups is because I know it’s hard to say what you’ll do in ANY situation – except you’ve actually lived through it. If someone had told me before I went into the cinema that evening that everything I thought I knew about myself would change in less than four hours, I’d have sworn heaven and earth.


I’m carrying your baby.


And as I sat beside her, driving towards her house I realized I never meant all the things I said to her. Ideas about ‘always loving her’ and ‘wanting to be with her’ were just that; ideas that couldn’t survive in the real world. I opened my mouth to say something – anything, but I had no idea what, so I closed it back.


I looked at her –


She was in the corner of her seat, sobbing quietly. I didn’t notice when she let go of my hand. Comfort her; the kind part of me insisted. Tell her it will be fine – that everything will be okay.


But I couldn’t bring myself to tell one more lie.


 

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Life by Keniwrites

I liken life to be an exam


The answer is inside you


You just have to get it


People will offer you a solution 


But trust me, they will ask something beyond you in return 


Life is an escape


An escape from fear of death


Its really not a permanent solution to death itself 


Life can be eternal


To those who know the owner of eternity 


Life is a song


The lyrics can be within and far beyond our own interpretation 


The rhythm is breathtaking and pleasant to the ear


Life is like my neighbour next door


I have to face it every day


Life is like a dwelling place


I live in it and it stays in me


Life is like a game of chess


Its a win win situation 


The smart ones gain


Those who lose are nothing 


Life is life 


It is one and not two


Tell me what do you liken life to be? 


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Thursday, 20 December 2018

Best friends by notestoallwomen

He raked his fingers through his disheveled hair, frustrated.  It was no use.  He couldn’t concentrate on his work.  He had come here to the cottage to work on the manuscript which was due in a couple of days.  The quiet, solitude were exactly what he needed to get him going but his mind was refusing to focus.  His eyes shifted to the time at the bottom of the screen.  All he could think about was her with someone else …  Muttering under his breath, he jumped to his feet and walked over to the window.


He looked out at the mountains as they loomed in the distance.  The lake was calm.  He envied it.  Sometimes, he wished he didn’t feel anything.  It would make life so much easier.  Right now, he didn’t want to feel the pain that gnawed at him.  Why on earth did he break his own rule and fall in love with his best friend?  They had known each other since high school.  Back then, she was a skinny girl with the terrific smile and who wore glasses that were too big for her face.   She wasn’t pretty like the other girls but she was smart and he liked hanging out with her.  They were interested in the same things.


Over the weekends, they went to Art galleries, museums, poetry readings and the theatre.  They weren’t into parties or hanging out at the mall.  They went to the prom together and enrolled in the same university.  His major was Creative Writing and hers was Journalism.  Whenever he wrote a story, he would have her read it.  She was his best critic.  She was more excited than he when his first story was published in the local newspaper.  And it was she who encouraged him to consider writing novels.  One snowy day, he sat down and crafted his first novel which he dedicated to her.  It was a bestseller.


They were friends for life —inseparable until her career as a journalist took her to LA where she got to work at the magazine she had always dreamed of writing for.  It was too great an opportunity to pass up.  It was when they were facing each other at the airport that he realized that he wasn’t just saying goodbye to his best friend but he was saying goodbye to the girl he had fallen in love with.  When they hugged, he closed his eyes and buried his face in her hair.  He didn’t want to let go.


When they drew apart, she gazed up at him, her eyes brimming with tears.  “We’ll see each other in the summer and for the Christmas holidays,” she said.  “We’ll keep in touch every single day. ”


He smiled even though his heart was breaking.  “Yes, we will. ”


“I love you, Jonas,” she said, reaching up and touching his face.


He swallowed hard.  “I love you too. ”  He knew that she loved him as a friend but he was telling her that he loved her as a man loved a woman.


“Take care of yourself. ”


“I will. ”  He watched her walk away, taking a part of him with her.


The drive back to home had been a depressing one and when he got in, he went into the study and sat down in front of the laptop to write.  Writing was the only thing that gave him any comfort and purpose.


They kept in touch through texting, emails, phone calls, Facebook and Skype.  They saw each other during the summer and over the Christmas holidays.   She had changed somewhat.  Gone was the awkward and shy girl.  In her stead was a glamorous and confident woman.   Gone were the glasses and in place of the braids was her natural hair.  She looked great.  Although they had both changed, they still connected.  Neither was dating.   That changed however, last summer when he visited her for Christmas and was introduced to Roger, the man she had started dating.


They met at some function or the other —he couldn’t remember.  His heart was aching.  Pain and jealousy consumed him.  He smiled but it was a facade.  It masked the hurt he was feeling.   He thought that was the worst moment of his life until that afternoon when they were walking through Seward Park where she told him that she was engaged.  It was too much.  He couldn’t hide his distress.  “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.  “I can’t do this.  I can’t pretend that I’m happy for you when this is killing me.  I have to go. ”  He turned and walked away.


That was the last time they saw each other face to face.  She had called him but when he saw her number on the display, he let it go to voicemail.  She sent him emails but they sat unopened in his inbox.  Last week, she left a message about him going to LA for Christmas which was a week away.  He couldn’t go.  He couldn’t face her.  He couldn’t bear to see her with Roger.  He couldn’t do it.  That was why he came here instead.  He wanted to lose himself in his new novel but it wasn’t working out.  All he could think about was her.  He was losing his best friend.  He was losing the woman he loved.  How was it possible for a person to live with a broken heart?  Right now he couldn’t see past the pain.


I need some fresh air, he decided.  He moved away from the window.  Grabbing his coat, he left the cottage and went down to the lake where he stood, gazing at the mountains.   What a magnificent view.  The sun hovered over them, enshrouding them in its golden hue.  What he wouldn’t give for Rose to be there right with him now.  Just the two of them, alone out there, no interruptions.   They would sit by the lake and or go for a swim.  Afterwards, they would go and have a bite to eat or go for a drive.  At night, they would sit out on the back porch and watch the stars.


He closed his eyes in despair.  They soon opened.  It was so faint that at first he thought he imagined it.  Then he heard it again.  He turned.  His eyes widened in disbelief when he saw her running towards him.  “What are you doing here?” he demanded when she reached him.


“I’ve been trying to reach you,” she said, trying to catch her breath.  “Your agent told me that you were here. ”


“What are you doing here?” he asked again.


“I came back,” she cried, her expression earnest as she looked up at him.  “I left my job in LA and moved back here where I belong. ”


Jonas stared at her, dazed and confused.  “You moved back to Seattle?”


“Yes!”


“But what about Roger?”


“I broke off our engagement. ”


“Why?”


“I broke it off because I love you, Jonas. ”


He blinked.  “I’m sorry, but did you just say? ”


“Yes.  I love you.  I tried to tell you that when I called and emailed you. ”


“I didn’t want to talk to you or to read your emails.  I didn’t want to hear anything about you and Roger. ”


“That day in the park before you walked away, you said something that made me realize how you really felt about me.  Before that I had no idea.  I had hoped but I thought you said that because you didn’t think that Roger was the right guy for me.  I didn’t think… ”


“Yes.  I was hurt, jealous and angry.  You have no idea how much I wanted to tell you that I loved you.  It was too much to deal with so I walked. ”


“I wanted to run after you but I was afraid that I would make a fool of myself.  All the way back to LA, I couldn’t stop thinking about what you said and the way you looked. As soon as I arrived at the airport, I called Roger and asked him to meet me at a café near my apartment.  He took it well.  He suspected that I was in love with you.  After we say our goodbyes, I went home and typed up my letter of resignation.  Then, I booked a flight to Seattle.  And here I am. ”


“How did you know I was here?”


“I didn’t.  I went to your place and your neighbor told me. ”


Jonas stared at her.  “I can’t believe that you’re standing here in front of me. ”


“This is where I belong, Jonas.  Here with you. ”


He pulled her against him, his eyes darkening on her upturned face.  “Yes, it is,” he agreed huskily.  “Now, I really won’t be able to get any work done… ”


She smiled.  “So, you’re working on a new novel?”


“Yes, but it can wait. ”  He bent his head and kissed her.