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LIVING IN GUILT

August 19, 2017
LIVING IN GUILT

Story by Akin Omo Akin

I tried resisting but she persisted. She was all over me as she urged, patiently waiting for me to give in. I finally lost control but when she stared at me,keeping her gaze on my retina. Looking through her blue eyes my heart was sectile.

"Please, Princely, please, I want this." She said with a subtle touch.

"okay how much for the blue contact lenses?" I asked the anxious shop keeper.

"Six thousand five." He replied
I fumed, as I reached my pocket for my credit card, resenting the shopkeepers sated smile.

Sekinat was bode's girlfriend, and it was her birthday In two days. We had been shopping the entire afternoon. Just like I promised her. a favor from bode , who has travelled abroad for few months program. I help her into the taxi, laughing as she clutched two nylon bags in her hands. She was beautiful, adorable, daring, and lively. For a while, we were both silent and the atmosphere was becoming too dull for her to bare. I had to bring something up, I told her about myself, my family, the crazy girlfriend I had. It was all lively and she was happy and talky, i decided to tell her about how I felt for her. The silent that evade the air was so brawny, I regretted telling her about what I felt for her,she must hate me now, "I muttered."

We'd been on the road for almost an hour, as we approached the last stop that leads to her house, I sighed with lot of air running through my nerves.

"Why did you allow him that day, why?"she spoke.

" huh?" I stuttered.

"At the Hangout. You came to me first, but you said nothing, bode asked me out in your present."

"I...I loved you the first time I saw your face. I had wish that everything he said and did to me that night was done by you." I was lost.

The car pulled over in front of her apartment. She got down first, dragging her nylon with the door, I stood on her side holding the door for her and frowning at the silence between us.

"It's getting late I should probably go home and prepare for tomorrow." I said as she dropped the bags.

She stood up facing me, and whispered "I can't thank you enough for today"

Even though I couldn't explain the kiss and everything that came afterward, we had the night to our best, a "a fifty shade " kind of night. Her body was a lover's breath away from mine. Our tongues were wet with guilt. I opened my eyes and wished I never did, oh we never did. The image of the night still hunts the inner me as I watched bode leaning on his kitchen cabinet to fetch me some drinks.

IN TIME

August 15, 2017


Story By AKINOMOAKIN

Faraway from the earth, there we live ,just like every other human; we are mortals, we eat, we sleep, we work, we reproduce, but there's this particular thing that secern and differentiate us from the common man, which is the Time. On the phase of our hand is a long inscription of reading time. Practically, our day to day living depends on that time, unlike the humans that are ignorance of their death day, our time of death is glaring and plainly displayed on our hands, once the time runs out, we die; in respective of where we are or what we are doing at the moment our time runs off. In our world, we have no currency, we purchase cars, food, house, taxes , and everything by depositing our running time. In our world transferring of time is possible: possible for someone who have lot of time to give out to those who have few, and also possible for someone who have few to take everything from someone who have lots. In our world our time does not read immediately we are born , until we are thirty years old. after that we grow no more, and we have no change in our look or appearance.


Just like the normal world, the way we have poor and rich people, we also have billionaire amongst us, who virtually can live for a whole life time and also poor people who have nothing less than few hours more to live; because they have wasted most of their time on day to day expenses.


My ephemeral story of life in time was brutal, my time starts to read when I turned 25, my Family, we are poor but still averagely better than lot of those that roam around the street. My Dad, he was a time thief, he steals time from those who have millions and gives to those who have little on the street. My mother was a school teacher who doesn't get paid till after a month. Every morning my father will call on all of us, me, my mum and my little sister, and he'll give us some of his time probably a day or two so we can survive till he gets back. One day my dad went to rob as usual, because it's been long he gives time to people in the street. and lots are dying, dad got shot and he died. He died with our family asset (the time) in his hand. Since then we became very poor, I had to start working but still the work fetch little or no time for us to survive for long. sooner my mum was having one day left to die, and so I started giving her 24hours from my time everyday. My sister, she's not yet 25, her time is yet to start reading, thereby making it impossible for her to share. we continue living like that, give a day to my mum from my time and she pays me back after receiving her salary, but this month, my sister died ,her time started reading while she was asleep in her boyfriend place. he was reported to have stolen all of her time and elope from our time zone.


Now i have only my mum as family. On my time I have just 5yrs and two months to live. Because I have already giving most of my time to my mum. Mum was about leaving for work one morning, as usual, I have to give her some of my time. Normally I'm supposed to give her a day, but she requested for half, she told me she won't be staying out long, I did as instructed and she kissed my cheek and left. That evening, after I returned from work, I didn't meet at home, which is very unusual, I couldn't call her because I'll have to deposit an hour for a call and she have to deposit an hour to pick my calls too, mum doesn't have that much. I set out for the park immediately, when I got there, the last bus was just arriving, I went inside the bus to check for her, but she's not inside. My mum attempted boarding that bus, but that particular day, her destination was increased to 2 hours and she have 1:32minute left on her time. She had to start running. I badge out of the bus and started running towards her location, hopefully to catch her up on the run, of course I did, mum approaching from far, I increased my speed pace and sooner I was about reaching her, while she approached me, her face were filled with smile and just when I stretch out my hand to reach out for hers, she fell and died, she ran out of time.


That is how i lost my family and everything i have. The way this is happening In my family, the same way it's happening in other families who live in time. We all live to die by the sunset of the day. Anytime I hear the people of the earth saying how nice would it have been, if everyone knows the day they'll die, I'll smile and thank the almighty on their behalf, for they are lucky,and do not dwell in time like us.


This story was inspired by Justin Timberlake (the actor of IN TIME).

A Soldier Agony

August 09, 2017
A SOLDIER’S AGONY – By Omeje Matthew

I moved my gun slowly. My aim came into full view. I was lying in the grass while Commander was sitting behind a tree close to me and yelling out orders. The tree branches spread out; it shielded us from the sun.

“Do you have a full view of them now?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Take them out.”

“Sir?”

“I said take them out!”

“But the little girl and her mother stand no threat to us, sir.”

“Take. Them. Out. Magabush!”





No! No! No! I was still shouting when I felt a cold tender hand touch my cheek, I woke up with a start.

“What’s the matter Sweety?”

It was my wife Angela. I was lying on a sofa in our lounge. The air conditioners were on but I could feel sweat under my arms.

“You were shouting in your sleep.”

“Was I sleeping? It was only a nap. It’s… it’s nothing. What time is it?’’

“2 pm.” She said, pointing at the big wall clock.

“What’s the matter with you?” Her hand was on my bare chest. I was sure she could feel my heart beat.

“I am fine.”

“No. You’re not.”

“I am.” I left her, went into the bathroom, then I pushed the door behind me slightly hard.

In becoming a soldier, we were thought to be unmerciful; we could do anything to protect our subject. Perhaps that was the very reason Commander asked me to shoot the little girl and her mother while he looked away and let me bear the pain alone. This was the first rule. I had imagined that the little girl I shot was my daughter Annie. I remember the look on the child’s face, how she was smiling and was about to hug her mother as if she knew it was her last moment. I had shot her first before her mother. I wanted to save her the pain of seeing her mother die. Was this mercy? I thought of the fear and pain in the woman’s heart that second as she saw her own daughter’s head shredded to nothing, it would be much. Enormous. I thought, too, of the shock that came to her when she herself got hit. What did she think at that last moment? Did she forgive the “devil” that shot her and her daughter? I know she wouldn’t. She wasn’t Jesus Christ, no one would.

I imagined again that Angie was the woman, standing helplessly, watching Annie before she herself got hit. Holy shit! No. But how could I have shot them, just how?

And now, how can I stand before Angie telling this story? Could I stare into her eyes and say I was right? That in the army, in my first days, the lieutenant, the one with a lopsided face who always spat like he had eaten a snail, had said something. Never disobey the senior officer at any operation and never question him too. Do exactly as he commands… this is rule number two. It was for this very reason that I had pulled the trigger that moment.

I would open this door, then go and meet Angie. She would understand me. She would kiss me and say I was right. But deep down, something told me I was not right. Magabush, I call myself, you were wrong!

VICTIM OF IGNORANCE

July 10, 2017

Story by Akin Omo Akin

My body is fine and tender, my skin as soft as that of a newly born baby, and lips so sexy that a thousand men  would fall when words escape them.I am that one perfect creation of the sixth day. A spotless and radiant body is worth beholding by all eyes that see. My body is a perfect definition of a mans fantasy, and thats the reason I exhibit my model-like figure. A hundred pictures from an angle, just to have a perfect shot. My love for photos grew to become a bad habit. I love outdoor poses, but the best are taken indoors. My lingerie is adorable, and skin tight enclasp my curves.


More poses attracts more social media pages likes, more comments and attentions all I have ever wanted. I wanted more likes than usual, so i decided to go weirder and bizarre. Pant half worn, G-strings preferably. My boobs are barely clothed, but I love them screaming out loud. Indeed it worked, but I have totally lost my innocence and it sometimes freaks me out. The advances i receive daily are numerous, but I have some that keeps my head up and my eyes stocked to the screen of my phone.

Particularly that of his, Mr Michael, he is my most admired follower on Instagram. I read most of his direct messages and I got overwhelmed by his world of fantasy with his lascivious obscene sayings. A photographer is what he called himself, he has a lot of beautiful and gleaming pictures of ladies that got me thrilled in his profile, professional looking photoshoot on modeling. He invited me over to his place and without hesitation I harkened into every lead that took me to his world.

On getting to his apartment, my expectations were daunted. I was hoping to see picture, portraits or any form of artistry but I didn't. I had the best shot of my life and I thought that was all, unknowingly it was the beginning of my mystery. It all dawned on me after our first sex of seven rounds, although I wasn't surprised, before I left home, I had prepared for the sex but not other things he did to me afterwards. He was dominant and had me submit to his sexual urge, more like him making me a character in his sexual narrative. He inject me with unknown fluids day and night, with my hands tied. I became his sex machine, courting more than 11times daily. At a certain stage he wasn't satisfied with the sex anymore he did a lot of nasty and unspeakable things with me. Days over days, weeks of solicitation, I was lost in time like a spill ashes. I was stripped of humanity "ahh iya je mi" and fordeem to beg for my freedom. My beg and plea fell deaf ears for  they, were all meaningless to him.

At exactly one month, I was injected with this particular fluid, everything went blank I had no experience of what fluid I had been injected with. I woke  up in the middle of no where with absolutely nothing to remember, I saw an envelope before me, and what I found in them were pictures of my nakedness and nasty things I have done with Michael, with an inscription boldly written on one of the photos that says thus

"You're the 44th girl that has gone through this and you're among the 24th lucky survival of this escapades good luck"

I'm only alive today because I didn't lose my breath to this sanity. Life became darkening, depressive, miserable and unworthy to live afterward for I am the architect of my calamity. Don't be like me, learn from my story.

THE NIGHT

July 03, 2017
THE NIGHT
STORY by Heritage

I wished I never met her that night. That was the night I lost my reservation to the naughty me. Things happened really fast that I was not only a victim, but a party.

It all began when I went with friends to a get-together party organised by an association in which they belong. I don't fancy parties so I never wanted to attend but they insisted that I follow them. We got to the venue at exactly 7:49pm. I was obviously a newbie to such events so my friends tried as much as possible to make me comfortable. Can I? I predicted that the night will be a mess and a waste of time, I turned out to be a clairvoyant.

I was in my nervous seat when a young lady walked up to us with a tray of Drinks. I collected mine - I no go carry last. But something was catchy. I thought I was the only one that saw it. Obviously, I wasn't.

Who saw that?

"Me!!!", all of my friends chorused while their gaze never moved from its fixture. We saw a gifted damsel. She's endowed.

I stood up and proceeded to the corner behind the room where my friends were seated. I saw the glancing beauty ahead and I adjusted my ironed but sagged top.

'Hi, I am Yemi. Can I get to know the one that has the power to restrain me from eating here tonight if she so wishes?' I said with a mischievous voice but she never noticed.

She smiled and told me that she's Arike. What a name! I told her that I would like to give her a hand in sharing the drinks. She was reluctant at first but later agreed on the condition that I would be diligent and respectful to guests. I nodded in full affirmation without thinking. Was I in my right senses? I doubt.

That night, I ran helter shelter to attend to famished guests. Some guests are created glutton. I saw that.

'Would you prefer salad on your fried rice?', that was me taking orders. Some wanted stew on it. I was like, 'OK'. I just have to be diligent. Arike wanted me to be.

While this lasted, Arike was somewhere - I didn't know, attending to some other things I guess. I don't just mind. I just want to get her sympathy and care afterwards. I am hardworking, like seriously.

Alas! Arike came out of the hidden, but holding a hand. Whose hand? I can't guess. Maybe her uncles' or brothers', I can't be so sure. My luck began to get 'waterish' when Arike came to thank me for all I have been doing for her for the past hours. She declared that I was lovely and helpful. I felt elated until she introduced the man who has being smiling while she was reciting her complement for me.

"So, Mr Yemi, meet my fiance. He is into buying and selling of fruits. He sells in a wholesale market o. By the way, I haven't introduced myself properly to you. I am an event planner. My service was needed here so I had to come and do what I am job", Arike said and smiled.
I glanced into the air. I had the 'someone should tap me' look. I can't believe my ears. I started feeling pain in my stomach. It was then that I knew I haven't eaten for the past three hours since we got there. I had served my friends more than three times. That night, I was fooled by beauty that belongs to someone else.


Heritage is an author, poet and fiction writer. He is currently a Law student at  University of Ilorin, Ilorin
You can contact him
For more enquiries,
+2349038459386 or
kaykid0007@gmail.com

HOPE OVER DESPAIR

July 03, 2017

HOPE OVER DESPAIR

Mother was a strong woman. By day, she was the epitome of hardwork slaving to feed the family and send her only child to school, but at night she always broke down, a suffering woman who needed to cry herself to sleep. Father used to work at the factory at Tse-Kucha, with a reasonable income. We lived a happy little family until that November in my second year in secondary school when the cement factory was closed down and staff
laid off.

Father had not saved for the rainy day so it hit us hard. Ours was not the only family that staggered; some former workers even found the world too cruel a place to live, wives left. He spent the initial days sleeping at home but soon started spending the whole day at Madam Go-slow’s joint just down the road, coming back deep into the night. He was just going through the motions of existence.

Mother’s petty trading was our means of survival along with the few pennies I got from doing odd jobs around the neighbourhood. There was our ever punctual landlord as unfailing as the inevitable month’s ending. There was food to be bought, there was also my school fees. Some days we ate once and some other days, not at all. One night as we
sat on the varenda breaking melon seeds, I asked Mother why she hadn’t let me drop out. She hesitated a moment and answered, “Don’t you want to go to school?”
“I do.”

She hesitated a moment longer than at first and with a calmness peculiar to her, she went on.

“Our condition right now is very bad, you know that but it doesn’t have to remain this way forever. I would rather go to bed hungry so
that you may go to school. I don’t mind going naked either, just so you go to school. You know why?”

She didn’t wait for an answer but went on

“Because there is hope; you can have a good future, but you have to go to school first. One day you’ll pull us out of this wretched life we are living. Despair only strives where there is no hope; hope will always triumph over despair.
I have a strong belief that you will come to something if you go to school, that gives me strength.”

Those words were never to be forgotten.

At school, I kept pushing on. One day, our English master asked us to write a factual account of the happiest day of our lives. I wrote my essay in future tense, the next day he called me to his office. He told me my essay was quite the best but curious to know why it was in
future tense. I explained how my happiest day was yet to come. I went ahead to tell him all. That day he went home with me.

The following term I left to live with him and his wife in the school’s staff quarters. He was the Vice Principal so he had a house in school. He was to take responsibility for my schooling for the remainder of my secondary education. Mother was overjoyed.

Mr. Dajo, the VP provided an environment that allowed me to come out with an O’ Level result that earned me a state-government scholarship
to the university.

Looking back, I’m most grateful to Mother, that woman who walked naked, slept hungry in hope. Through all the hard times, she never
despaired. She passed away before I completed my engineering degree, she didn’t enjoy the fruits of her pain. A year later, Father also passed on. The lesson Mother taught me never died: hope over despair

MY DAD (TYPICAL AFRICAN FATHER)

July 03, 2017
Story by WISDOM BARTHOLOMEW

 Wisdom Bartholomew
My. Dad.
He is about the fiercest person I know. There was this thing that was terrifying about him. My Dad would literally have shouted down the walls of Jericho if he was in existence with the Israelites then. I know some people will come and say that I'm exaggerating. I wouldn't blame you tho. A single experience will change your mindset. You see all that muscle Samson was flexing in the Bible by killing a lion with the jaw bone of an ass? My Father doesn't need all that effizy. Just a minute stare into the eyes of the lion and it would send it running back in fear and trembling. Yes. My dad is bad ass like that. I've had a lot of memories with him and his whip. But I'll share with you the one I'll never ever forget. Even if Amnesia looked me in the face and gave me three dirty slaps.

I just got into Ss2 then. Young, silly and in love. Yesssss. There was this fine slim Edo chic I was madly in love with then... (She'll even read this post). I swore by the moon and the stars that I would do anything for her mehn. See my life na. The love was sweet and young so I enjoyed it. I wouldn't mind not having some doughnuts then for lunch. My girlfriend had to eat before I could even think about it. Soo fam, it was the week of her birthday. A Wednesday, it was. I had started that week with nothing in my pockets at all. And it was Monday, meaning I have just two days to get the love of my life a birthday present. That same Monday, I got home from school and my Dad asked me to go withdraw 10,000 naira from the bank. He had thoroughly taught me the processes I had to go through so I saw it as no big deal. On my way to the Bank, the idiot in me began to reveal itself. Telling me I could withdraw more so I'd buy my girlfriend a befitting birthday gift. The tug of war between my heart and my brain continued for a while but my heart won eventually. Stupid heart.
I got to the bank and made a withdrawal of 12K as opposed to the initial 10K. I did that thinking my Dad wouldn't know... Not even realizing that he'd be sent a debit alert text message. So with the thought in my mind that I had won. I journeyed home cheerfully. On getting home, my Dad was already waiting for me with an explanation for the additional 2,000 naira that was debited. So I gave him a lie that I didn't know o... That maybe it was a mistake from the bank. Of course he wasn't having any of that. He promised to go to the bank the following day for clarity sake but then kicked against it and said he'd go immediately. I tried my best to make him see reasons not to go. But NOOO! I feigned sickness but he gave me the terrifying stare and almost immediately I got healed.

So we got to the bank and he asked me to point directly to the bank attendant that I made the withdrawal through. I did and we began to walk towards her. With every step that we took, I was equally just a step closer to my grave. I don't know how many times I prayed in my mind that the lord should help me see that day through. Finally, we were standing in her very before. And just as we got there, the bank attendant said, "You! You just left here not too long ago o. Is anything wrong?" And that was when I know that nothing can save me fa.

My father narrated everything to her and then she proceeded to bring out the withdrawal slips that had been filled for the day. As many as they are, my Dad sat somewhere not minding the piercing stares of the other people, he took his time and checked every one of the slip until he finally discovered my own. And there it was seen that I intentionally withdrew and additional 2K. He just packed everything up and returned it back. Told me to wait here and he'd be back soon. I swear he said it so casually that you'd think nothing was going to happen. He left and came back with a slender looking cane. I could swear that I saw my world turning black. My father flogged me from inside the the banking hall and then into the streets. I ran but he chased me. I remember how I thought I hard escaped him only to run into some guys who grabbed me and called him that I was with them. He came there and gave me the beating of my life. And then left for home. He got home and was still waiting for me. Immediately I got home, he flogged me so much that I would later break up with the girlfriend on the next day of school.
That I'm actually alive today to tell the story is beyond me. A miracle indeed. I swear even my children's children will hear this story. Nonsense and young love!

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