The Wages of Sin

 “The wages of sin is death…”

The words catapulted him from sleep into the realms of consciousness. He shot up in bed, streams of sweat oozing from every pore of his 6ft-frame. Like a canine whose attention was pricked by the faintest of sounds, he looked frantically right and left, got up and surveyed his environment.

All seemed well. The room was as it was when he came in around 2 a.m. in the morning: a scattered assembly of clothes, shoes and the empty bottle of Pastis he’d drank before bed. The bed bore the semblance of one that had been fought in. Ruffled, and disorganised, a silhouette of sweat on the area which he’d just jumped up from. His eyes rested on his naked bedmate, Bisi, her back to him, fast asleep on the far end of the bed. At some other time, her dark, smooth, naked body would have aroused some longing in his groin. But now, nothing mattered except the words that woke him up from deep sleep.

“The wages of sin is death…”

He checked the time: 4.20 a.m. He’d been asleep for barely one and a half hour. He’d come home with Bisi and they’d had steamy sex till past three, he remembered the time because he was just getting off her when his wall clock chimed 3 a.m.

“What’s happening?” he asked himself, “after all, i’ve heard those words severally, why does it haunt me so?” He remembered those were the exact words Sister Titilola had said to him three days ago when she had unexpectedly walked up to him in the Lecture Theatre. He’d shrugged it off, knowing fully well the beloved sister dared not pursue things further. He was not the number three man of the dreaded Snakes confraternity for nothing; his reputation was top-notch, enough for him to be touted as the next number one of the deadly cult. Being highly placed in the campus’s elite cult group came with its benefits. But she had been bold; very bold indeed. Very few of those supposed Christian brothers or sisters had the guts to come preach to him, yet she had, even left a tract with him.

The tract.

He snapped out of his reverie and started scouring the house for the 4-page leaflet. He hoped the leaflet was somewhere in the house for he slept in different places each night. He looked through his pockets then the reading table he’d dropped his things when he got in earlier, but he could not find it. He racked his brain for pointers to where he must have dropped the tract. Then he remembered. He had used it to smoke ganja two days ago when he couldn’t find rizla anywhere around. The paper was very light and it was the closest to rizla he could lay his hands upon. He wished he still had the tract but he had no time to regret anything.

He collapsed into the only chair in the room and closed his eyes. Her words ran into his thoughts again, like an unwanted interruption during sleep.

“Brother, the Lord loves you and he has told me to tell you to desist from your evil ways sir. If you don’t sir, His wrath might come upon you for it is written that ‘for the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life through Christ Jesus our Lord.’”

He remembered the boys had burst into laughter, but he hadn’t found it funny. This was a lady he’d known as a spirikoko for years and who for once had never approached him for anything like that.

“The Lord told you to tell me?” He had asked, somehow interested.

“Yes, he came to me in a vision and showed me what would happen to you if you don’t repent now.” She answered quickly, the words dropping off her mouth like someone in a trance.

“So what did He show you?”

“The Lord directed me to the book of Romans 6 verse 23,” she paused to open the portable bible she held in her hands, ‘for the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life through Christ Jesus our Lord.’”

“Is that what He showed you?”

She nodded fearfully.

“Ok. Thank you.”

Her words had stuck in his mind, accompanied his nights and dogged his days. Every night since then, he’d been woken up by those words. They had become a haunting nightmare to him. The reason, he never knew.

For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life through Christ Jesus our Lord.”

“The free gift of God is eternal life? Through Jesus?” he asked himself, confusion threatening to overwhelm his sanity.

“Baby, are you alright?” It was Bisi, sitting up on one elbow, her full breasts hanging from her bosom like ripe pawpaw fruits. She looked worried even in her state of semi-sleep.

“I’m fine.” He answered firmly.

“You sure about that?”

“Uhn uhn.”

“Come to bed then. I want you baby,” her sultry voice prodded, the come-on very clear.

“I will in a while. Give me a few minutes.”

“Alright,” she yawned and collapsed back on the bed.


The residents of Princess Hostel were used to her loud prayer sessions. One only needed to stay in the hall for two straight days to know her worship schedule. She would start at exactly 4a.m. and praise-worship till 5a.m. After which she’d embark on an hour of relentless prayers, speaking in unknown languages interspersed with the known. She was to the hall a bastion of spiritual fortress. There was a feeling of security that came with staying in the same hall with her. Her hall mates used to complain of her prayer schedule, especially when she got into those tongues, but since she’d twice ‘seen’ and prayed against two different calamities that would have befallen two hall mates, they’d learnt to deign to her spiritual abilities.

That Thursday morning, when her praying pattern digressed from the usual, the whole hall knew something was not right. Not only was her worship session heavily punctuated with loud wailings and supplications to her God, every word of prayer she said was forced, hurried and sad unlike the free flow of unknown tongues they knew her for.

“Mercy, Lord. Mercy. Give him some more time, Lord.” A few lines of unknown tongues followed before they heard her say, “Your words say you do not want the death of a sinner; please Father, please.” They heard her say, amidst sobs, continuously and persistently. No one knew why she prayed that way. Was another hall mate in danger? No one knew what troubled her. But she knew. And He knew too.


For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life through Christ Jesus our Lord.”

The words rang in his ear as he looked around the room for something to drink. He found none. Slowly, he dialled one of his lieutenants who always stayed in the same building he spent the night in.

He was a wanted man. As a top member of the Snakes and the heir-apparent to the number one post, he was heavily guarded. He dared not sleep anywhere without adequate security measures. He knew what he meant to a lot of people, rivals and friends alike. Not after single-handedly ‘scoring’ all six goals in the current ‘game’ of superiority his cult group was involved in with their main rivals, the Cats Confraternity.

Ding ding

The number rang but no one picked.

“That’s unusual,” he said to himself, the first streaks of panic starting to get to him, “something is wrong.”

He dialled again. No answer.

Quickly, he jumped up from the chair, reached for his boxer short on the floor and began dressing up.

“Baby, what is the matter?” Bisi asked, his sudden hurry had woken her from sleep.

“Shhh.” He shut her up with a finger to his lips. Fear jumped into the girl’s eyes and she shot up from the bed too, looking for her g-string. When she couldn’t find it, she abandoned the search and wore her jeans like that, quickly throwing on a tank top, there was no time for the bra.

“I think something’s wrong Bisi, Stone is not picking his call.” He hurriedly whispered to her as he pulled on his Arsenal jersey. He dipped his hand in the space between the bed and the mattress and pulled out a locally made handgun. It was his private weapon, for emergencies.

“Ah!” Bisi gasped.

“I’ll go check him now, but you just stay here and wait. Ok?”

She nodded, her whole being dripping with pockets of fear.


They knew he would come out. After two missed calls, they knew what his next step would be. So they waited. Today will be the day. After weeks of planning and plotting and three failed attempts, they could not afford to miss the opportunity. This was the first time he’d slept anywhere with very little security. His one-man security had been macheted to death a few minutes earlier just as his call came in.

They called him Python, the de-facto Strike man of the Snakes. He was not going to be an easy victim, but he would be their highest profile, yet. If they got it right, they would balance the score. At 6-2, they were losing the ‘game’. But this would be their sucker punch, and it’d definitely be worth 4 goals. Investing in mercenaries had been their joker. If this ended up badly, they could as well forget it. The Python and by extension, the Snakes, would never take things easy with them. It’d be a full war. They must avoid war; the Python must go.


When he stepped out into the corridor of the twelve-room hostel, he immediately knew he’d made a mortal mistake. He was greeted with the cold muzzle of a gun against his neck.

“Don’t try anything foolish, Python.” The voice was very familiar and eerily close. Before he could answer, two more figures emerged from the shadows, one held his hands while the other frisked him for the weapon. He was disarmed and shoved towards the main door.

“It’s been a while Steve,” it was Python, addressing his arrester. Steve and he had attended the same polytechnic where they both were influential members of rival cult groups. They had been on each other’s neck for years till Python left the polytechnic for the University. He wondered the cruel fate that had thrown Steve up as the mercenary that was to lead the manhunt for him.

“Yeah man,” came the steely voice, “good to see you again man.” He finished as they led him outside the house into the compound.

There, he saw they had come with quite a team. He counted twelve of them clad in purple round-necks with bandana, and he felt bizarrely honoured. He would go in a streak of honour and his legend would reign forever among succeeding generations of cultists. Death was the famed equaliser for all men; the manner of death is the only distinction a man of courage can get from mere men.

“Thanks for the honour Steve. You brought the whole house for me!” he chuckled and smiled.

A back-handed slap landed on the nape of his neck and a succession of blows forced him on his knees. When he muttered enough strength to look up, he saw they had formed a perfect circle around him.

“Certainly,” he said to himself, “the end had come.” He scanned the environment for a break, a hole he could explore. But he found none. The circle was close-knit and every one of them held one weapon or the other, the least being a portable axe. Four of them held guns.

“Guys, show him to the gods.” It was Steve who gave the order.

Six of the boys detached from the circle, lifted him up and threw him into the sky. When he reached maximum height, gravity took toll on his mass and he began the free fall. He landed with a thud, his 6-ft frame giving a ‘gbam’ sound against the concrete floor. As if on cue, the rest of the boys began to sing, a chilling song that reminded those within earshot of the Zulus performing a night-time ritual.

They didn’t allow the pain overcome him before they lifted and threw him up again. When he hit the concrete, this time with a cacophony of breaking bones and an unmistakable groan, he began to feel his life race out of him. Every bone in his 86kg mass revolted in pain and he found himself unable to move.

By now, the boys were jogging round him, singing and dancing, their axes raised to the heavens. It was a ritual they must carry out. To appease the gods of cultism, to remember and avenge the murders of their cult fellows the Python had personally sent to eternity. To satisfy their thirst for blood, the Python’s blood.

Few victims survive more than four throws but he survived five. But by then, his life struggled with death like in a lopsided wrestling match. Eternity rushed at him like a raging sea. He stayed strong; never for once uttered any word. He felt the tightness in his chest and his breath came in sudden bursts. His back ached from the several blows it had taken on the concrete floor while his heartbeat increased so much he thought his heart was running away from the pains his body system had become.

His assailants stopped throwing him and stayed back, watching him struggle with death.

For a few minutes, it seemed as if they’d leave him to die. But no, just when the Python was beginning to think so, he heard Steve’s clear command: “Put him out of his misery boys.”

The boys did as they were told. Two blows of the axe from each of the six guys pushed him into the warm embrace of darkness; into the same eternity he’d sent at least six others over the years. As he floated into eternity, he heard those words again as they poured out of Sister Titilola’s mouth:

For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life through Christ Jesus our Lord.”

He understood the words just then. With the darkness gaining ground over the rest of his life, he found himself muttering the words, “Forgive me Father, forgive me, I am a sinner. Please, forgive my sins, accept me Lord.”

As everything went blank, he found peace like he never felt all his life.


Just as her hall mates were getting increasingly worried, Sister Titilola stopped praying. Those whose rooms were close to hers could hear her sobbing lightly, like a young girl who had lost her best friend. Nobody understood what was going on. But she did. And He did too.

“Lord, may Your Will be done,” they heard her whisper amidst her sobs.

Soon after, her voice was heard in a medley of praises to the one God she served and trusted. Her conscience was clear, her task completed. She knew the God she served; she knew His stand:

“I will show mercy to whom I will show mercy…”

The End

110 thoughts on “The Wages of Sin” by Da Writing Engineer (@banky)

  1. Banky! I doubt you z back to stay, so you’ve come to tease us ehn?
    Well the wages of sin is death, and you Mister, have been a baaad boy…
    You already know my thoughts on this….You handled the saying real good…Well done…$ß

    1. Sweetheart, @sibbylwhyte, thanks baby. We dey together, always. Miss you loads.

      1. *clears throat*
        @sibbylwhyte and @banky. Thou shalt not commit adultery.
        Wages of sin..

        1. Aproko, the boy next door! mtcheew! @kaycee

        2. LMAO!!!!

          So na @banky and @sibbylwhyte dey ‘flex’ now?

          1. Mr @afronuts, mind your words o! Wetin be ‘flex’? flex banner? you think say na BTL? abi arm wrestling? Flex ko, roll up ni!

            1. @banky

              you dey ask me wetin be ‘flex’?

              Ask sibbilatu maybe she knows…and in ur own words…deep yarneth unto the deep!

                1. All of una sabi do aproko!

                  @kaycee, how man and im wife go dey commit aldultery with theirselves?…Ask banky, we are both gonna tie the knot real soon sef… We no dey fornicate either.

                  @afronuts…Nutty, I don’t speak durrty…so me no know wetin dat one mean o..

                  @banky…sweetheart we were supposed to hang out the other day o..but rain come spoil show. How bout we plan another? In private of course, b4 all dis aproko go begin talk…

                  1. #gbam!

                    @kaycee, @afronuts, una don hear? Elderly aprokos! mtcheew!

        3. Hahaha…stop *poke-nosing*

          1. @shaifamily, Shai! Shai! Shai! How many times I call u? phem! *lips sealed*

  2. WooooooW! What Can I Say? This was Mind-blowing, heartrending , Soul Sifting prose! O boy! After I don Pomise myself say lai lai I no go give anybody Ns Point again?! ehn?! Abeg no vex, Accept 100 Ns Points. I ll send then when I get my Laptop. WOW!

    1. @nicolebassey, *smiles*. Thanks for the high praise and the points, thanks. I am glad you found this good enough, thanks. Your boy still dey loyal here o! Hehehehehe.

      1. Wonderful! This is the second time anyone has acknowledged the points i sent them :-) . @TolaO was the first. Even the NS Honors Robot Has refused to notice any of my deeds, perhaps my reward is in heaven , hehe . You actually deserve more but hisn! you wan bankrupt me? lol. Keep at it man. Soon Frank Perreti is gonna have to move over for*drum roll* Da Writing Engineer!!!! Great work and from a well behaved and humble young man. WOW!

        1. hehehehehehehe. Well-behaved abi? okies! *smiles* Thanks so so much. I appreciate you. @nicolebassey

          1. Hehehe@banky you r one of those @kaycee wrote about…ur enigma still dey strong. Hahaha….

            1. hahahahahahaha. No mind that one they call @kaycee. the guy na otondo joor! hehehehehehehe

  3. I like your writing style. Good job.

  4. DWE, your similes are always apt and you tend to master its usage with every story you write…

    One thing I find missing in the story is how they got to know he was there, you weren’t specific on that. Like most of this kind, a trap is usually used, so I’m guessing the girl, maybe-my own take though…

    Every other thing was superb. Let me borrow Kaycee’s word, RESPECT…

    1. I take it you were not a cultist in school. Shame.
      If you were you wouldn’t have asked that question.

      1. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. @kaycee, u don finsh patapata! ahn! No mind am jare, @francis. The guy na Kegite ‘cultist’ for school, that’s @kaycee. hehehehehe

      2. @Kaycee, hahaha! Me a cultist tufiakwa, when I dey use prayer scatter them. Ask Divine Church Mission, they know me too well. I’m too spiritual for that kind of thing nah….

        I asked because I once watched a lot of Nollywood movies…

        @banky, no mind kaycee, I go soon remember am in one of my prayers…

        1. hehehehehehe. You go fear church na: Divine Church Mission! hahahahahahaha. @francis, u funny!

  5. @francis, that’s a good observation. I however didn’t want to belabour the piecesince it’s a short story and really, that didn’t have much to do with the plot. But I’ll definitely look into it. Thanbks bro. Longest time.

  6. OMG! This is beautiful, this is inspiring. Attention holding plot, simple language that describes perfectly and…Just awesome.
    I wish I wrote this. For real.

    1. @osakwe. Your comments really made me happy. I know that feeling, it’s one i’ve had severally. Thanks for taking time to read this. God bless you real good!

  7. I’ll leave the structure of the prose for others to comment upon.
    I had familiar pull with the plot,especially at that point where Sister Titilola in her room conceded her supplication to God with the words ” Lord,may your will be done”. That was the exact thought that ran through my mind before my eyes picked on the actual words. And it was the best part for me.

    That tells me one thing… that you are a thoughtful writer. I like that!

    1. Hmmnnnn…
      Really, He is the Ultimate. Whatever he decides to do, He does: His mercy cannot be bought with prayers or tears. He is God.
      Thanks @midas
      God bless you.

    2. A different eerie feeling…

      @banky already told you abt d “rizla” thing. This story was eerily familiar. You know, sometimes you just wonder….

      1. Just wonder abi? Shai Shai! I hail o! @shaifamily. na u biko. hehehehehehe.
        Rizla go always dey jare…

  8. Meanwhile, Liking this without sharing this on Facebook is like unto Sychophantic Hypocrisy . So Oya everbody share this.
    Ps : (whispering ) You might even win a soul to your heavenly account in the process. Oya Oya, Osiso, Usop usop, Someone help me with the hausa …. Like this!

    1. *smiles* Thanks. May the Heavens be with us all!

  9. I like the realism, and the way U interspered the story with the Scriptures. Lay off on the metaphors though; don’t use them too much.
    f the metaphors though; don’t use them too much. This was unnecessary, in my opinion: “Like a canine whose attention was pricked by the faintest of sounds, he looked frantically right and left, got up and surveyed his environment.”

    Overall, good job bro. Well done.

    1. Ray Baba,
      You know you be my oga, so I must listen sir! hehehehehehehe. Yep, I’ve been trying to cut down on the similes, would try to use only when necessary. For the part you pointed out, i’m not sure it didnt add to the vividness of the description. But then, we are all here to learn and if I see a master comment on my post, I am very happy. Thanks @raymond, longest time my brother. I know you are doing great, lemme not ask again!
      God bless you plenty!

      As always bro,

      1. As we are talking abt the ‘buts’ in ds one, I picked out one:

        “When he muttered enough strength to look up, he saw they had formed a perfect circle around him.” = Mustered, yeah?

        1. hmmnnn. ‘mustered’ is it! Thanks @shaifamily

  10. The piece is over-good, all green with done

    1. @raptureisforme, hehehehehe. Over-good indeed! lolz! Thank you. If na green u dey, u don become sometin else be dat o! hehehehehehehe.
      God bless you bro.

  11. @banky dis is a story that captured every bit of my attention. The use if language was as simplistic as they were effective. I didn’t see too many unnecessary words used. But why lay-off on the sexual parts? Even the description of Bisi was too subdued…and yeah, bosom isn’t the same as breast?

    The way you set forth your plot also was good…

    Nice work…with the way the execution was performed. It is as close to REAL as it can get.

    No points donation for you sha.

  12. Why na? *sad face* Even if na just 1000points, I go manage am bro. Abeg, biko, e jo, reconsider your decision. E se gan. hehehehehehehehehe.
    thanks for the kind words @shaifamily, you know I appreciate every. …as close to REAL as it can get… Ojere things abi? hehehehehehe. na you biko.
    Thanks again bro.

    1. How much I get to dey ‘dash around’?

      1. No joor! You are big boy na! Moreover, God loves a cheerful giver. Maybe we should talk about this offline. @shaifamily

        1. ehn…around the “table of men” @banky

          Phew! 313 views!!!

          If you are not the featured writer soon, we go kill @Admin

          WE CAN DO THIS!!!

          1. Na so. The Table of Men. *thumbs up* @shaifamily

  13. I wonder why @myne, @TolaO, @afronuts, @xikay and o never reach here. even @kaycee sef! Oya, make una come o! By the powers deposited in me by Sister Titilola, I summon all of una! hehehehehehehe

    1. Guy, why u dey disturb us na? U didnt get any sleep?
      let me go read the thing, if it be nonsense…I will delete you from the Internet.

  14. @kaycee, I know say you dey smoke shit, didn’t know you take it so early in the morning too!

  15. I don’t agree jare.
    I will not be scared.The wages of sin is “spiritual” death, and it takes a very long time for the death to arrive seff. So long as its spiritual death, then no wahala. What happens to my spirit is no concern of mine, spirits dont feel any pain seff so…*talk to the hand” …..@admin when are we gonna have that wonderful smiley in here.

    And you write like one of these Christians. mtcheew.
    You shouldn’t have killed that guy.

    1. You know, the greatest compliment you have unwittingly gave is this: And you write like one of these Christians. Unfortunately, I am not one of ‘them’! I just studied and wrote like them when need be! hehehehehehe. But yes, I believe in God the Father, His son, Jesus, and the Holy Ghost. @kaycee, you are one hopeless guy.I give it to you sha, your ‘hopelessness’ is one aspect of you your online personality has in common with your offline twin!
      Thanks for reading bro. I appreciate your coming. How’s the job (hunt) going? BBM gist?

      @admin, the smileys go make sense die o. I need a *tongue out* especially for people like @kaycee ans @shaifamily. a *hug* for sweethearts like @sibbylwhyte and @nicolebassey. and a *middle finger* for those who deserve it!

      So when are we having those? @admin

      1. You are not one of ‘them’?

        Whats that supposed to mean?

        *crap…i wish there was a smiley to express this…*

        1. No, I am not one of ‘them’. if you dont understand, your wahala. Only the deep can call to the deep! *tongue out* Mr @afronuts.

          1. true…but shit also calleth to flies

            1. hehehehehehe! Brilliant line! *hugs* @afronuts

      2. @banky, I am not hopeless!!!
        We will meet…
        We will fight.
        You will die.

        1. lol!

          And I will watch
          and I will laugh die!

          1. @afronuts, laugh to death abi na deathly laughter? o ga o.

        2. “Death was the famed equaliser for all men; the manner of death is the only distinction a man of courage can get from mere men.” – DWE (The Wages of Sin)
          @kaycee, I doubt if we’d ever meet jare. You take confidence only in your online personality; offline, who knows maybe you are… hehehehehehehehe *tongue out*
          @admin, i think those smileys are overdue biko!

        3. @kayce @banky I’ll provide the coffins. It pays!!!

          1. *talk to the hand* @shaifamily, you know @kaycee no go show up at any meet, the guy no sure like that. If for say e sure now, ehn ehn, maybe your newfound love -coffin making- would get some patron. But, in the time being, let’s see how things would go jare.

            1. i know gehs do dt *talking to hand thingy*. You be geh? @banky

    2. @kaycee

      Na wah for you oh…wetin be your beef with Christians sef?

      1. So you never know @kaycee enough? The truth is the guy doesn’t hate Christians, I think its the manner its being practised especially in these climes that is his problem…

  16. Wait sef, @afronuts, na only people you com ‘tackle’ here? the summon wey I summon una no be to come ‘tackle’ the story itself? abeg, ‘face your front’ and do the ‘do’ jooor!

  17. Nice story @banky… Sort of shares the same idea with ‘Taken’ – one of the stories I wrote on NS.

    Your exploration of campus secret cults seems to be a recurrent theme in some of your stories – could be be psychoanalytically speaking borne of inspiration from true-life experiences? Just curious…

    You rendered the story in a simple narration that’s gives for an easy read and brought the story to an end that leaves a residue of thought for the reader.

    however, I struggled with the believability of the some parts of the story…If Python was not bothered about Titilola’s warning, why was he then searching for the tract? And we see him asking God for forgiveness as they butchered him…its as if he preferred to die and not live. Is it that he was too hardened to break? From my findings of cult killings, most times cultists who meet their death break down from their hardness and become somber as they eventually face inevitable death. This, I think is a human nature – the will to survive.

    Python went through a painfull annihilation process…I think there will be a time his ‘hardness’ will give. Something must always break a strong man…I guess that’s the verisimilitude I was looking for.

    All the same, this was a good story that teaches a bitter lesson…its the kind of story a campus cultist should get to accidentally read to get wiser!

    Nice work!

    1. @afronuts, thanks for the detailed comment. I like it when readers do this, it helps the writer. Thanks again.

      Well, as for believability, I dont think that is a problem here. Like you said: “From my findings of cult killings, most times cultists who meet their death break down from their hardness and become somber as they eventually face inevitable death. This, I think is a human nature – the will to survive.” You expected him to whimper as he faced death? Someone who has ordered more gruesome hits? Probably handled a couple himself? No man; it doesn’t work that way. It’s like a butcher seeing raw human skin.

      Python lived with death, he constantly swaggered through the biblical valley of the shadow of death and he feared not death. He needed the tract more as an avenue to understanding Sis titilola’s words NOT because he was bothered. If some bible line haunted your sleep and you could find meaning to it in a sheet of paper, it is natural to want to decipher the meaning; maybe it’d help assuage the nightmares. If he had a bible and knew where to open, he’d have gone for one! You get?

      … And you forget Python is far from ‘human’ too!

      “Something must always break a strong man…” I like this. yes, something did break him: death itself!

      Nice one @afronuts. Much respect bro, God bless you. Now I think i’m imbued with Sis Titilola’s ability, I summoned you here! hahahahahahaha.

      Much love my guy, chop knuckle joor! *balls knuckle*

      1. @banky…whoa…when I said he needed to go out sober, I din’t mean he should break down and whimper like a ever seen a strong dude scream in pain yet wear that ‘Do your worst’ look on his face? That’s what I’m talking about…that Python is incapable of feeling pain is what am about…if it was quick death, then death did really break him, but in this case it was slow so the pain had to hit him

        1. Ok boss. I get your point now. *thinking* *shrugs*

    2. So, we should go and read “Taken”
      Nice advert @afronuts, very nice and ingenious.

  18. Hush your mouth, banky! Did he ask you?
    Are u trying to demystify me???
    Let @Afronuts keep wondering.

    1. Hahahaha!!!

      @banky… no pour san san for the guy’s mysterious garri naah!

      @kaycee… yeah. I go wonder…that’s one of the places where inspiration begins

      1. *singing* Wonder Wonder Wonder Wonder (2ce) Till you turn to ‘wonderer’!

      2. @ Afronuts: Was there any point in the story that the writer suggested the MC was not feeling any pain?That he decided to take it with a whimper does not wish the pain away.And I believe that point you were looking for was when the MC realised that death was imminent,

        You try sha with your analysis of the story.A very good one.

  19. @ banky: What more can I say?If there’s anything like a perfect story,I think this is it. There are just two areas I have issue with,would get to you when I’m around aa laptopm

    Well done!!!

    1. My very good friend! @easylife2! bros eh! hmmnnnnn. Na you o baba! Thanks for the big ups, you know you remain my oga, right? Thanks man. Thank you. i hope you do lay your hands on one asap, look forward to the detailed comment man. *hugs*

      1. @ Banky: You can flatter somebody sha.It won’t be much of a wonder if you have shorties falling all over your feet with this skill.

        1. @easylife2, hehehehehehehe. Flatter sha? ok o. But you do know better.

        2. The guy is a *flatterer – Shoot me!!!

          1. Shai! Shai!! Shai!!!, *sighs* I don tire o. How na? @shaifamily

            1. you tire? Wetin you dey do wey you tire? @banky

  20. Lovely piece. Well written

  21. This was a straightforward and well-written story, @banky. I really felt the tension towards the end, as the impending death of the main character drew near.

    A few points:

    You had this:

    …after all, [I]’ve heard those words severally…

    I don’t think it’s natural for someone to use the word ‘severally’ in speaking, as the MC did. Much better would have been “I’ve heard those words many/several times before.”

    Then this:

    Six of the boys detached from the circle, lifted him up and threw him into the sky. When he reached maximum height, gravity took toll on his mass and he began the free fall. He landed with a thud, his 6-ft frame giving a ‘gbam’ sound against the concrete floor.

    I think that you are overdescribing using phrases like maximum height. It’s obvious to the reader who understands how gravity works that it would “take its toll” when he reaches maximum height. I would removed the struck out part altogether.

    I did like the phrase “Show him to the gods”. Is this an original phrase?

    There are a few other examples of passages that I would amend, but they don’t really detract from the work. Well done.

    1. Now, @TolaO, I always look forward to your comments, not only because I learn from them but also because one always feel the depth of your logic. I’ll agree with the cancelled sentence, guess my engineering mind couldn’t forget those days we used to do ‘projectiles’. lols.

      For the ‘severally’, I am not sure. But still, I have learnt something else from that point.

      Yes, “show him to the gods” is my original phrase; couldn’t think of a better way to say it. I hear they use various Yoruba phrases to describe the act -‘so gbale’, ‘la mole’ etc- that phrase, however, is the most apt English phrase for any of the above. It’s more like it.

      Thanks again boss. I sincerely appreciate you. I have a feeling we’d work together on my collection someday…I hope you’d oblige me when the time comes, Editor.

      God bless you real good.


  22. He’s really an engineer in the art!

    1. Hmmnnn. We all can only get better. Thanks @ostar. Bless you bro!

  23. @banky, this is a plot too strong to be diluted, it was well thought out and well brought out! Sire don’t take lightly the gift & grace God has placed in thee. The message passed through you is a reality too real to be ignored… Well-done big time!

    1. @excellency, hmmnnn. I wont take the gift lightly sir, I definitely wont! It is His, may He always be in charge. Thanks so much. God bless you bro.

    1. ok sir. na una we dey wait before sir. @xikay

  24. I felt genuine waves of terror roll over me as I read this, bravo!
    there were few errors like “She was to the hall a BASTION of spiritual FORTRESS” ….but decidedly not enough to obscure or detract your story’s quality.

    1. @lelouch, thanks bro. I am glad you like the way it felt.
      About thesuggested, ok. I’ll look into it. Thanks again. God bless you.

  25. @howyoudey, yeah boss! I am delighted you liked this. Thanks man. Long time.

  26. As usual, you yet again bring splendid writing to the table. This is how to write. Nice one bro. Keep improving your art. There is no end to learning.

    1. *smiles*. True, learning never ends. Thanks man, @chemokopi

  27. a very very very good job. i was absorbed in the story like i was in the mind of every character.

  28. Hello

    Just joined Naija Stories. Yours is the first story I would be reading and I believe if this is what the stories in Naija Stories are like, then I am in for a treat.

    Your story, “The Wages of Sin”, is utterly amazing. Great write-ups help create motion pictures in the mind of the reader(s)…and yours did more than that…e even put soundtrack4 my mind sef…

    That said; pardon me as I pick at little ‘irrelevancies’.


    You mentioned that Python got into the room by “2am in the morning”…2am is ALWAYS in the morning hence the explanation of when the 2am was is not needed.

    Then you mentioned “after all, i’ve heard those words severally, why does it haunt me so?” Why does WHAT haunt Python? Is it the concept of the whole episode with Sis Titilola or the words she spoke? I am guessing it’s the latter which in that case the statement should read “after all, i’ve heard those words severally, why DO THEY haunt me so?”

    Also, do you mutter enough strength or muster enough strength?

    Lastly when Python realised the situation he was in you wrote “Certainly” he said to himself “the end had come.” Well although staged in the past, he spoke to himself in the present so the statement should read “Certainly” he said to himself “the end HAS come.”


    I re-iterate; the writing is executed beautifully. I do have a major problem with a major underlying logic.
    WHY WOULD PYTHON, DURING THE ‘GAME’ OF WHICH HE WAS THE LEAD MAN AND AFTER 3 FAILED ATTEMPTS AT GETTING TO HIM, HAVE SUCH LAX SECURITY PROTECTION? It probably would have been more plausible had the Cats boys taken out ‘some’ guards.

    O…n btw…when Christians refer to God’s word they say…your WORD…and not your words

    Like I said, little ‘irrelevancies’

    It is a beautiful read. Kudos sir.

    1. @sleeickstories,

      Hmmnnn. I like your comments, all you have pointed out make sense. I agree with you, on all points save the ‘security’ situation of the guy. But, really, I don’t think I need to overflog that, I must have addressed it in previous comments. Taking out a few guys isn’t the MO of these people. And again, they are not that sophisticated, so to make the story realistic, I had to resist the glaring suggestion.

      Welcome to NaijaStories. I am glad this story has given you a good feeling about the site. There are good writers here and you’ll get to ‘meet’ them one after the other. However, as it is with established writers too, some of the stories may fall short once in a while, even from so-called big boys here, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that the site is blessed with so much talent. We are all here to learn bro…

      I look forward to reading your stuff.


  29. i like this story mehn. what a compassionate sister. …people in the ilk of sister Titilola can change this country o

    1. I guess so @owseaman. Thanks for reading.

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