Writers Crib

Saturday Dec., 5 2015 Its about 26 days to 2016, 26 days to another new year. New year is full of new resolutions, the small-small promises and cranky decisions we make in our closet; the 'I will do this' and the 'I will never do this again' will soon flood the timeline of our minds as we approach the dawn of the new year come 2016. How many of our new year resolutions have we kept anyway? Truth be told, I can't remember keeping a resolution I made on a new year, I can only remember defaulting all the promises I had made, infact, in defaulting new year resolutions, I top the list! Resolutions are not magic, they don't just work because it was made on the first day of a new year, if you don't practise your supposed changed attitude, your attitude will never change. Today, I thought about it, the tiny-tiny things I'd promise never to do again, the people I'd promise not to hurt, the achievements I wanted for 2015, the places I wanted to visit

Today for the first time I worked out. Mehn! I saw the back of my head, I never knew how tough it was until today. I envied those who did early morning jogging but not for once did I think I would try. Felix called me to come jog with him, at first I felt reluctant, but then he told me it would be fun, Ibrahim agreed to come along too. So the three of us set out... When we started, I felt my heart already thundering, my eyes were already spining, 'who send you message' was the first thing that came to my head. Just in the middle of my thoughts, I fell. I fell belly flat, smeared my palm and ankle on the hard ground and it began to bleed immediatly. My phone too, I gave it a pretty bad shape. The first few seconds, I remained on the ground laughing, the last time I fell this way was when I was still a child. Felix and Ibrahim turned and ran back to lift me up. 'We haven't even gone anywhere and you're falling. You don't stop, that's the essence of worki

The village girls had gathered around me, pleading with me to free Uloma, but the more they pleaded the more I held on to her making sure she had enough punches that would last for seven market days pending the time she stopped flirting with my boyfriend. When I was through, I stood up, dusted myself and stared down on her like I was her messiah. I smiled in satisfaction, I had beaten her black, blue and green, nearly stuffed the daylight out of her. The other girls ran to lift the lifeless Uloma from the ground. I didn't care what they did afterwards, I had done what I had in mind and that was all I cared about. I bounced out of their mist like the bad girl I was. Blew out my gum and stucked it into my mouth again. Izunna was my property, any girl who went after him sought her own death. Uloma was no exception, infact she was the fifth girl I had actually beaten to a state of coma in less than four market days. I walked into my fathers compound like a renowed village ch

I've had sad memories, I've witnessed tragic events. So sad I'd want to cry for a whole day non stop. Those times were the most awful seconds of my life, for they tick really slow and steady, like a snail crawling a 1500mtr race. I don't know how to forgive and then forget. I could forgive, but somewhere in my heart, I still nurse the evil you've done to me, somewhere in my heart I despise you, somewhere in my heart, I want pay back! A double fold of your action, to pinch you exactly were it hurt the most so that you could feel how much pain I felt. How can I find peace when all I do is occupy my heart with hate and revenge, a revenge I know deep down I won't dare do even if I had a gun to my head! That is how anger works. Sometimes, we let our taste for revenge hinder the peace our heart so desires. Find peace, and leave the pieces Its time to let it go!

'Is there anyone in this congregation who has a reason or reasons why this couple should not be joined together in holy matrimony should speak up now or forever hold your peace.' Silence. 'I ask again, is there anyone in this congregation...' 'Father, I have something to say...' *** April had it all planned out. She was going to have the best wedding ever, she would make Alan her ex so jealous he would regret dumping her for her sister. She had invited him, he had agreed to come. Blanca was April's brides maid, she had flown all the way from the UK to grace her bestfriend's wedding. They did be talking about it two months before and now its two days to the wedding. 'Your gown is something to die for!' 'You bet!' She winked. 'Alan would die when he see's me in this... Oh Jesus, I want to see he's face popping out in jealousy.' 'You invited

I remember when Dami died. A black car had pulled over at the small black gate of his fathers compound, it was the car of Dami's fathers igbo friend who lived on the next street. Baba Dami had emerged from the front seat of the car, his face was pale and he had his hands wrapped behind his butt. He walked into his compound, face down and was mute to the greetings of his tenants. Iya Dami came out from the back seat, she had her scarf tied to a knot around her waist, her eyes were damp wet and swollen like she hadn't slept in days, her hair was nothing to write home about, she walked helplessly and clung to her only surviving child Ope. I was walking past when I noticed this whole event, I never knew what happened, but whatever had happened must have been tragic. So I was told that Dami had been sick, and he had died from his sickness. Once or twice, I had seen Dami bare to his waist, he was all skeletal and always had a white substance rubbed on him. I didn't notice,

Early childhood dreams are really so exciting, some of these dreams grow with us into adulthood, and some die with our childhood years. As a child, I had so many dreams, I dreamt of this, that, then this and that. I had a life full of too many dreams and aspirations, but there was one dream I held dear, Nursing. Becoming a Nurse was one dream I treasured as a child. I loved Nurses. I loved them for their smartness, the smile they'd wear on their faces when they have a patient, the soft way they spoke when about to pierce an injection into your bumbum! I just knew I loved them for everything they were. Imaginations grew in my head. I had pictured myself in white sparkling gown, black ballerina shoes with the blue, red and black biro tucked in the pocket of my gown. As Children, it was easy for us having basket full of dreams, we were permitted to dream big, to have dreams bigger than our tiny selves, it was no crime. I knew of children who wanted to become Pilots, Engineer

'Stammerers always have something to say, they just need more than enough time to say it' I had asked Mum why I stammer, why I had to always struggle to say 'good morning' without having to stamp my feet on the ground or beat my laps with my palm, why I repeatedly repeat and stumble over words, why reading in public was difficult, why answering simple questions was war and participating in debate sessions was more like living in hell. At every question I did ask Mum, she'd tell me I was okay, that all I needed was enough time to adapt and find a strategy. I had two friends back then in basic school; Memuna and Lauren. They both had their usefulness. Memuna was to answer for me when Miss Angie called the roll-call and Lauren was always ready to defend me at every argument. The day Memuna was down with fever and lauren with chicken pox, I was presently marked absent, and through out that day in school I made no comments and no effort to speak. At debate sess

She was startled when the line finally went dead. Her fore head formed lines of depression. Was that a joke? Could May possibly be trying to pull a fool’s day on her? It’s already 40days past April fool. “Judas can’t be pregnant! How is that possible? He has no… oh my Gad! I think I need to get to that hospital.” She stumbles over Cynthia’s assignment “Get out of the way!” “Hey watch it!” Cynthia fires back. The drive from home to the hospital seemed to take forever. Once or twice she had almost knocked down a bike man, in her third attempt; she did actually ran over the wares of market women who sold fresh tomatoes by the road side. She didn’t stop to say sorry; her mind was all ‘Judas’. “You go die young.” One of the distressed market women cursed as she threw the smashed tomatoes at her car. She visualized Judas in maternity gown, with a protruding tummy, him spitting and vomiting all over the place. “And how the hell is he gonna give birth...and breastfeed?”

"Hello Muna, it's me May..." "Hey May wassup?" "I have some disturbing news... Its Judas" "Yes, how is he doing now?" "You won't believe what it is I'm about to tell you." "Ow come on, could it be the typhod again?" "No. I'm afraid your boyfriend is pregnant." "What!"

Dear Adaobi,  I am highly flattered by how much you were able to describe me. If I didn't know you too well, I'd have said you're obsessed with me. You need not wonder why I have a black skin, red lips and white eyes cuz that's the way God made me. You talk about how I don't smell nice or sway my hips, well that's just me being me. I thought you to be intelligent enough to see why Obim dumped a pretty and posh girl like you for Fowora the dirty girl. Since you've been unable to figure it out, I'll just help you. And no! its not jazz. Obim wants to be with someone who is original, humble and listens to him. These three things are evidently missing in you. Most of all, I have a good heart and that's the zenith. I am no longer the dirty girl you know cuz Obim has upgraded me so there's no way back for you. All the best in finding and keeping your new man.  Light skinned Princess, this is my secret. Yours in superiority.  Fowora.

Dear Fowora,  Many times I wondered why you were black, why your lips were red and eyes white. I had watched you each day from the corners of my blue eyes, how you sipped red wine in dark glass, how you stick burger in water, you always wanna make me puke!  Adefowora, you are not pretty because you are black, you don't sway your hips left to right like Nneoma and I, your teeth are brown and your hair unkempt; you stink of waste gotten from fresh fish and ewedu. Bdut I wonder, yes I wonder, how you manage to snatch Obim from me. Obim! The very tall guy with curly hairs and pointed nose, who has the fairest skin of a thousand fairy, the one who's voice could melt a rock and who's touch sends goose pimples.  Fowora, tell me your secret! Should I paint my face and become as black as you? Or should I roll myself in moist full of 'shitty waste'.  Should I go to the blacksmith and request to be smeared with tribal lines; he could give me six, three to the left an

Written by; Honor C. Osuji Amanda'... Her voice rolled from the kitchen like an erupting volcano. That was my grandma. For a start I paused, shoved my head towards the kitchen made of mud, held my breath to hear her silently curse me, lurked my eyes to and fro to see which way she would emerge from. But no, she didnt curse and I saw no reflection of her. 'That's one.' I counted. 'Two to go.' I placed the tenth palm kernel on the stone, tightened my grip on, and with full concentration I smashed!... the palm kernel laid in pieces... I had also smashed the nuts as well. 'Phew! What a waste!.' I had watched Ego and Nneka perform the same smashing, it was no big deal to them, at one hit, the kernel splits into halves and the nut is picked'full baked'... just place the kernel on a stone and smash! atleast, that was what I saw them do, so I kept smashing the palm kernel together with its nut. This was the tenth time, and not one nut had fo