His Eyes

“Please, I am begging you. Don’t leave.” I have resorted to begging her to stay. I am standing at the door of our home and blocking her exit. Hoping that I can somehow change her mind and make her stay. Continue reading


Daddy’s Home!



Thunder, lightening, a loud sound like a gunshot.

A window bursts open and breeze rushes into the house.

As she reached out to cover the candle, the flame flickered before it died, plunging the room darkness.

Firm flame

Firm flame (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Lightening again and she thought the light made it seem like there was someone sitting beside her. A blink later, the electricity came back on.

Sitting beside her was her father, grinning like he had just won the lottery.

“Papa!” She flew into his arms. While hugging him, her eyes rested on a picture of her whole family.

It was taken the summer after her father had died.




That is my attempt at this week’s prompt from the 100 Word Challenge For Grown Ups

The prompt is this …The flame flickered before…

Let me know what you think.

Home Coming Part 1


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It had been a long time since he had gone home to the village. His parents had succeeded in keeping him away after that incident 15 years ago.

After they had moved back to the city, the nightmares had started and then as he got older, they had turned into dreams which became more infrequent and eventually came once in a while mostly when he was extremely tired and fell asleep in that state. He didn’t know why they had finally agreed to let him come along on this trip and the fact that he had mixed feelings about being back in the village didn’t make him so comfortable. His discomfort was taken away by the memories of his first trip to the village. Continue reading

For My Love


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For this week’s 100 Word Challenge for Grown Ups, we were asked to write something with the following words in it: LIBERTY    EMPIRE    APPLE    YELLOW    ENORMOUS

This is my attempt.



For My Love

I just want the liberty to live my life with my love.

With this thought she looked at the apple on the tray before her.

She was burdened with the enormous responsibility of marrying without love for the future of the empire.

I would rather die than betray my love, she thought.
With determination and sadness she picked up, took a bite out of and chewed the fruit. She squeezed her eyes shut and as tears fell down her cheeks, swallowed hard.

A few minutes later, the yellow light from the candle cast a glow on her lifeless form.



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For the 100 Word Challenge for Grown Ups, this week’s prompt is actually an image. I really had a hard time with this one. Let me know what you think though. Image and write up after the jump.



The villagers were panicking again.

That could mean only one thing – his pet had struck again. He quickly jumped out of bed and picked up his dark cloak, running out before he had fully worn it.

The walk to the cave was easy because all the villagers were on the opposite side of the island wondering about their livestock.

He smelt the blood at the entrance of cave and inside, the dragon turned and gave him what looked like a grin before spitting out a bone that joined the pile of bones to the side of the cave.

Family Dinner


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They were home alone and she was in his room.

Mom and dad had not yet come back from work and had called in to say they would be coming a bit later than usual. Since they were going to be alone in the house for a while, Ade decided they should go to his room.

He turned on the TV and put it on a music channel, turning down the volume so the music did not make it difficult to talk. Bimpe was staring blankly at the screen of the TV and started when he sat next to her on the bed. She looked up and smiled shyly at him. Continue reading

100 Word Challenge for Grown Ups


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While browsing the web, in my quest for inspiration, I stumbled upon the 100 Word Challenge for Grown Ups.

This week’s prompt was this ….I’m exhausted. Shut the door behind you….

This is my attempt.




The door opened and he backed in, while blowing a kiss to the woman in the car outside.

The huge grin on his face disappeared as he  turned into the house and saw her.

She gave him a look that spoke volumes, then she sighed deeply and said in a shaky voice, “I’m exhausted. Shut the door behind you and come take a seat.”

When he was seated she said, “Ade, we need to talk.”

He looked from her face to the papers on the table in front of her and knew he had blown it.

She would never forgive him.

It was over between them.

The Art of Being Me


I have often wondered what kind of course my life would be if it were to be an art.

What requirements would be given for those willing to study this art? Would it be a tough course, or an easy one?

This is a "thought bubble". It is an...

This is a “thought bubble”. It is an illustration depicting thought. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Would any schools even be willing to teach this art and what kind of crazy nut-cases would be willing to study such an art?

Would people say about it, “Here we go to study the silliest, most confused and irrelevant art on earth” or would they say, “I can’t wait to study this art today, for I wonder what great new things I shall learn from such an art as this one”. Continue reading

1 – When the world stops making sense


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She was hiding.

She needed to get away from the people. From the faces… Especially the faces.

The faces of  the people in the living room. People she knew, people she didn’t know, some people she thought she might have met before.

Looking at them was giving her a headache because she thought they all had the same weird expression. All the lips on the faces were calling her name and telling her the same thing, “Sorry for your loss my dear.” “It is well my dear.” “You have to be a strong girl and a brave girl and take care of your daddy now.” “You are now the woman of the house so take care of your daddy.”

They sounded like a broken record, all saying or implying the same thing.

She needed a place to run to and had found escape in her parent’s room. She always loved it there.

It was the brightest room in the house. At high noon, when the curtains were drawn open, sunlight streamed in and bounced off the colourful memorabilia on the opposite wall. Stuff that her mother had collected over the years. It made a beautiful light show on the ceilings and walls of the room.

Her mother had always told her how she has loved to stay in that room as a child and just stare at the lights until she fell asleep.

Her mother…

At the thought of her mother, the tears came down before she even realised she was crying them. Aisha had thought, no, she had hoped that she had cried all the tears she had.

All the tears that she had shed in the night curled up on her bed, all the tears she had shed in the toilet of the school she attended, that she shed silently in her heart every time she passed something that reminded her of her mother.

How could she not cry, when her mother was gone and it was, she thought, her own fault.

She kept thinking to herself, if only she hadn’t told her mom to come home early, if only she hadn’t said she was lonely and wanted company, if only she had been a big girl or behaved like a grown woman and waited quietly for her parents to get home.

Now she had no mother and her father was lost to her lost in a world of his own. It was all her fault.

If only…

Those were her thoughts as her emotions overcame her and she shook with her tears and let out heart wrenching sobs that would break the heart of one so unfortunate as to witness or hear them.

She just wanted her dad to hold her and tell her everything would be ok, but she knew that would not happen. Aisha knew or rather felt, in that way that teenagers think all the problem of the world is their fault, that her mother was dead because of her and her father was never going to get over it, or even if he did he was never going to forgive her.

She cried for herself, her father and the woman they had both loved and lost, wishing that her mother would come and hold her and tell her that everything would be ok.


The fighting had become more intense over the course of the year.

Aniefon sat in her room and listened to her mother and father yell and scream hurtful things at each other . They knew she could hear them, but both were past the point of caring. Such was their hatred and anger towards each other.

She sighed heavily, turned on her radio and turned up the volume. As she lay down on her bed and stared at the ceiling, she wondered when it would all end. She knew it was only a matter of time before she would have to choose who she wanted to be with. She had heard them talking about it and if anyone had asked her, she would have told them she would rather live in an orphanage than have to pick between her two parents. The sad thing was, nobody asked her, nobody even noticed her. No one saw her hurt or her fears. No one saw her.

When she could still hear their arguing through the haze of her troubled thoughts, she got up from her bed and opened her room door, slamming it loudly enough that they heard and knew she was coming. She rounded the corner and walked to the parlour where they stood backing each other on opposite sides of the room. She looked from one parent to the other, and simply walked past them to turn on the wireless, internet modem on the wall beside the tv.

As she walked past them, she thought how nice it would be to make them hurt just like they were hurting her and “I can hear you both you know, you might wanna keep it down cos I have to study for a test tomorrow”.

Annie, as she was fondly called, knew she was just adding fuel to fire, but she was past caring. She wanted to hurt as much as she was hurting and who better to hurt than very people who were hurting her.

She walked slowly to her room, knowing they were staring at her. Hoping that they would stop her and tell her off for talking like that to them, but also knowing that they wouldn’t for they were too busy waiting for her to leave so they could go back to attacking each other.

As she passed them she looked up at her father, hoping he would see. He saw, but he turned away from her eyes and looked at a spot over where her mother stood.

Annie walked slowly into her room and before she could slam the door heard her mother say, “I am tired of arguing with you. Do whatever you want. Just remember that it was you who wanted this not me or Annie.”

After that she heard her father walking towards the rooms and quickly slammed the door and locked it so her dad couldn’t get in even if he tried.

That night all the members of that household cried. Each for their losses and some for their gains.

In the morning when they woke up, Mr Paul Abasiafon was gone from their home and from their lives.


Eka was scared. For the first time in a long time she was truly scared.

The roads she was on, the car, the unfamiliar people her mother had sent her to be with, everything seem unwelcoming and unfamiliar. She was leaving home. Going to a new place. She remembered the day they had come to see her. The man driving the car and is wife.

“Eka! Di mi!” Her mother had called to her as she was playing with her siblings and the neighboring children. As the oldest girl, she was responsible for a lot of things and knowing fully well that she did not have anything to do until it was time for dinner, she wondered why her mother was looking for her now.

As she saw the nice ca parked outside her house, a sense of dread came over her. Eka had seen cars like this come and go, taking her friends and never bringing them back. She hoped that the car was just parked there for some other reason than that the owners where in her house.

When she stepped in and saw them, the nice looking couple seated on her father’s threadbare couch, she knew without a doubt that she was the next to leave the village.

Her mother beckoned her closer and the woman, turned to smile at her. Eka managed a small smile, but only because the woman’s smile was so warm she couldn’t help but smile back, even through her distress. “How are you?”, the woman was the one who asked. “I am fine ma.”

The woman then turned to smile at Eka’s mother, and in the local dialect asked how come Eka spoke so well. Her mother quickly answered that one of the family’s distant cousins had taken it upon himself to make sure the children all got through their secondary school education in the neighbouring town. It had been hard while she was in school but that she had somehow managed to come out from school with flying colours. She had finished secondary school and was just home finally.

Eka smiled at the woman with a tint of pride when the nice lady turned to look back at her. The lady smiled back and told her she could go back out to play with her friends.

As she left, she heard the woman say again in the local dialect, that it was ok and that they would come back on Saturday. Two days from that day.

The tears rolled down her eyes as Eka thought about her mother trying to convince her that it would be alright as she cried uncontrollably begging that she should be allowed to stay. In the end, knowing the futility of their actions and the situation as a whole, they had both broken down and sobbed well into the night.

Eka wiped her tears and with a determined look thought to herself that her family depended on her and she would do whatever she could to bring hem out of the state that they were currently in. This was what she thought to herself and though she held this thought with much conviction and determination, she couldn’t stop her hands from shaking as she what lay ahead in her future.

Sister Sister


The Story of Aniefon, Aisha and Eka and their coming of age.

Aniefon and Aisha, by the marriage of their parents become step sisters. It’s a story of how they both grow in their new situation and home while trying to find themselves and fit into the new life that fate unwittingly threw them in.

Told from the point of view of Eka, the “house girl” who is brought into the new home along with them. Eka has to come to terms with her own demons and take care of these two young ladies who are struggling to understand and come to terms with all that has happened and is happening around them.

It is a little bit of “Yours, mine and ours” and some of the sitcom “Sister Sister” and a lot of Nigerian flavour to it!

Chapter 1 – When the world stops making sense