Friday, 17 April 2020
Sunday, 15 March 2020
Chioma (excerpt from a WIP)
![Chioma by Cardinal An ebony beautiful girl sitting alone](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5946lKuWuxfsxhhbrSDXgh-wTH_tCNjWTNXQhfKnhYgLvBL2izp7D394p59QskgJ5clt10ArVg0e3vjyFRmSE-OURpX7RlHXgGlvoSD3LIy7vVnNl7gZwMZCGAAwZ32SKZNdYIJhH6bRm/s320/Screenshot_20200315-220211_1584306793122.jpg)
The moon dotted generously and flattered the New Ritzy spot, the marble columns seemed to glisten as the moon poured down graciously on them—it was a beautiful place. The fact that it was an open space with the evening zephyr coming at intervals made it all the more sensual. To Chioma’s eye this place was much too grand for her and the waiter who obviously had more flamboyance than she did appeared to have agreed with her.
Thursday, 3 January 2019
ONE NIGERIA
"Relax Ikemba, this is a
personal story only few people have heard.” he said after he paused to look at
my face. “And I’m sure you’ll find it interesting.”
Jerry Obiagbor, a renowned professor
of History, was heading to Abuja for the Independence Day celebration when his
car broke down on his way to the Akanu Ibiam International Airport, Enugu. It
was my wife, Adekemi, who first spotted him leaning against his car along the
Emene express.
I had insisted on a souvenir;
especially since I was going to turn back towards old Abakaliki road. After
some light-hearted haggling, my wife suggested he give us a significant,
personal story, only very few people had heard. He thought for a while before
he found a story; the story of the Nigerian Civil War.
Saturday, 1 December 2018
Day of Revelations
Udochukwu’s awed eyes stared on, following the singer’s every move.
Ngozi, a sister from evangelism stood by her side with both hands raised in worship, “his
voice is angelic, right?” she said when the worship ceased, bringing Udo back
to the real world. Udo sat back down without responding; she wasn’t sure what
Ngozi meant.
Udochukwu
was such a woman who had not much to regret in her short beautiful, yet
experience
Sunday, 4 February 2018
The Italian Wife
Title: The Italian Wife
Author: Kate Furnivall
Genre: Historical fiction
Setting: Italy 1932
The
Italian Wife is set in 1932 in the midst of Mussolini’s hunger for a new
Fascist Italy. In a fictional town named Bellina, an addition to the five
cities Il Deuce built after draining Italy ’s
Pontine Marshes in the 1930s. It was an
engineering feat that actually employed 124,000 men in 1933. In this intriguing
tale, a woman Isabella Berotti is one of the famed architects, the only female.
She focuses all her attention on her work relishing the transformation of the
town built on the once mosquito infested marshland. She was married to one of
Mussolini’s infamous soldiers, the Blackshirts.
Sunday, 26 March 2017
If Mama had talked about it
Today is Mothering Sunday and this year marks the closest mama and I have ever been. WhatsApp has definitely contributed to building communication between us. Yet while we talk more, we still don’t talk about it (sex) all. We have never gotten around to talking about my experiences with the drunk uncle who tried to sleep with me, I have never shared my feelings of self-hate with her or that her comparing me to her friend’s children all through childhood greatly contributed to this. Despite similar body types we have never had an honest discussion on our bodies (and even as I progress on the journey to loving mine I wish she had loved it first and hers as well) most especially, we’ve never had any pertinent discussion on sex. Not the right to it, not the enjoyment of it, and definitely not the questions of self-doubt and requirement of self-confidence that come with it.
Being a Man 2
I kept walking
towards the bend in the passage when I heard her raised voice and that of a
young man two doors behind me. I peeked through the keyhole and saw my wife
pointing my pistol at a relatively younger man not more than twenty-nine years
of age; I could not believe my eyes. I hesitated before entering the room; I
hid myself in a small crevice between what seemed like a sitting room and the
bedroom to listen to their conversation.
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