Dark Deeds

As you lay on the grass alongside Chukwuka, your boyfriend, you felt lightheaded. He whispered, “My queen, my one and only,” to you, the classroom walls hiding you both from view. Your young mind rustled, stimulated blood gushed through your body as he traced his fingers all over you. Dry twigs and stalks bit into your skin as you talked with him. He kissed you long before it dawned on you that crickets had started

to chirp, and it was time to go home to avoid your mother’s wrath.

Your mother, a strict woman, would break every bone in your body if she knew you had a boyfriend. Your father, a retired factory worker, depended on her and ate like a hungry dog every day.  When you left for evening lessons, on those days that you did not help her at her market stall, she assumed you had gone to study with your friend, Nkiruka. You confused her with big English words she never understood, but which fascinated her when she heard you discussing with your friend. You had heard her bragging to members of her kindred during the meetings she hosted that you spoke like Queen Elizabeth. On those days, she wore her heavily sequined yellow dress that smelt of camphor
and tied her best Ankara wrappers; one reaching the ankles and the other reaching just below her knees.

You got home and met your mother crying. Amidst her sobs, you learnt that the five thousand naira she had been saving for your final exams was missing. She held your father by the collar and accused him. When he managed to free himself from her grasp, he left the house.
Your exams became improbable.

You knew your father had become a thief since his retirement, and he wanted a new wife too, because he complained shamelessly that your mother’s breast had sagged. He had found a girl your age and stolen your mother’s savings to pay the bride price. It would take only a miracle to get the money back from him.

You were surprised when Papa Emeka, a stockfish seller next to your mother’s stall, sent for you. He had heard your dilemma and wanted to help without anyone knowing, including your mother.

You went to the address he gave you. His potbelly, which looked like a pregnant woman in her third trimester, irritated you as he opened the door and asked you in. He would help you if you could help him too, he said. There was a glint in his eyes as he came closer to you. His moaning as he grabbed your breasts reminded you of the bleating of a kid. You endured the pain as he deflowered you.  He then pulled out his drawer, offered you ten thousand naira, and plumped down to rest.

In a cold voice, you told your mother you had got the money. She looked at you, her awed eyes full of questions which she didn’t ask. She noticed the discomfort with which you walked for a few days but said nothing.

Chukwuka could not understand why you changed. He pleaded, sent emissaries to know if he had wronged you. He did not understand when you said the problem was yours, not his. You just wanted to be left alone, you said. How could you explain your shame to him? How would he understand?

On a sunny afternoon after your exams, Aunty Chidinma, your maternal aunt, pulled into your house, her car decked with tinted glasses. You hadn’t seen her since you were ten, but you knew that she had married a big man in Lagos and was doing well. You exchanged pleasantries and she entered the house to greet your parents.

Later that evening, your parents told you that you were going to Lagos. Aunty Chidinma had promised that she would send you to a part-time school if you helped out at her shops.

You were filled with expectations on your journey to Lagos. Perhaps things would take a turn for the better.

You got to her house and she introduced you to her husband. You saw that glint in his eyes, the same glint that was in Papa Emeka’s on the day he grabbed you.

He patted your buttocks when he hugged you, away from your Aunty’s view.

And you wondered if you would ever be free from the clutches of these randy men engaged in dark deeds.




P S: Still experimenting with the second person POV. Please make me whole with your comments/criticisms.



58 thoughts on “Dark Deeds” by Lawal Opeyemi Isaac (@easylife2)

  1. AWWW…i felt this girl’s pain…and yes she can be free…bite the next idiot that dares grab her. Bite real hard till blood gushes out!!!! let his wife ask him how he got a bite in such secret parts!!!

    1. Lol at your comments. Glad you liked the story.


  2. Okay, I am not the most technical critic in the house, but I really like this experiment…

    1. yeah i like it too. good work.
      PS you write like a writer

      1. @ febby: Write like a writer sha? Thats high praise indeed. Thanks for dropping by and reading.


    2. @ Mercy: Thanks for your comments.It feels good to read a comment from you again after a long time.


  3. you write like a woman

    1. Em… is that a bad thing or a good thing?

    2. Casey, I’ve heard that a couple of times and I don’t know what gives people that impression. Thanks for reading.


  4. Well…you said we should be easy on you anyway.
    It was easy to follow through which was good for me..
    Not so there but it was simple.
    I like it…Big Ups brother..
    more from you

    1. Thanks for the comments emmy.


  5. yeaah i liked it,i felt so real.great work sir.

    1. Thanks for reading empress.


  6. I think a little more detail would have helped the story a lot, but that’s just me. Keep experimenting, though. This was a good one.

    1. Okay, just realised it’s flash fiction, so there’s no room for plenty of details..

    2. Thanks Uche.Been a while I got a comment from you.


  7. i really liked it. Reminds me of one Superstory story lol. Great work. and Lol at Kiah’s comment, i agree with her

    1. Thanks for dropping by cerebral.


  8. What a horrible world! I was engrossed in the story…

    1. You were that engrossed?……..then I am happy. Thanks for reading.


  9. Opeyemi,
    oh! You are an OOUITE?! Wonderful, just finished from there too, Elect/Elect Engr. Good effort though I must say this experiment ‘get as e be o’. The overuse of ‘you’ makes this kind of repetitive and pedantic. The plot is there alright but the way you delivered it isn’t too exciting. And who says the second person POV makes it mandatory that you use ‘you’ in almost every line?
    Think about it my guy.
    Good effort bro.

    1. You have raised good point. Thank you very much. Still stuck in OOU since 2009.You should know about this BMS palaver.

      Thanks for stopping by and reading.


      1. I do. Eh yah, one thing I do know is this: Everything will work for your good. I spent seven years (2004-2011) for a five year course without any extra year! Be good guy, cheer up and continue to rite. That was what I did: I poured all my anger into writing and here I am today; making a living from writing. You are very good and I trust God to help you rise above all OOU-induced setbacks. e go be bro!

        1. Thanks a lot bro.You give me much needed encouragement.I grow wary most of the time,I must tell you.Could you send me a mail please? E mail is easylife_2@hotmail.com.I like the critiques you give here and I believe we can do a lot together.I must confess that I am a lazy writer and it is about time that I get that push from people of like minds. I hope to hear from you soon.


  10. Real good work…enjoyed reading

    1. Anderson my man! Been ages. Thanks for stopping by to read.


      1. Yes bro
        Been away for a while but am so back now
        Well done

  11. Nice one Lawal, but I think this still reads like 1st person POV rather than 2nd, I say this because, while reading the piece I pictured someone else other than myself and that kinda defeats the idea of 2nd person POV.
    Well done all the same…

    1. Exactly scopeman, exactly. It feels less personal, sort of.

    2. Thanks for reading scope. Youe comment makes me want to look into the story again.


  12. I just feel terrible reading this again. hmmmm well done ope

    1. xikay my man! Thanks for reading and commenting.


      1. and i thank God that some people are writing about things like this

    2. I think it is a good thing that the story can incite this kind of emotions in you.Thanks for stopping by again.But you never critique o!

      1. do you really mean that? i stopped it about two weeks ago when some people went as far as sending me inbox messages and emails blasting my harsh criticisms

        i dodge

        1. Xikay you know say me I no be like that o. Without critiques how can we improve? And e don tey wey we don dey come together for this place.

      2. do you know that a new trend is coming to Naijastories? we are trying to become real critics not just praise singers…care to join us?

        check this out: http://www.naijastories.com/2011/06/and-my-heart-flutters/comment-page-1/#comment-36907

  13. Nice one. Feel sorry for the poor girl

    1. Thanks for reading igwe.


  14. Hehehehe…Not bad, but…to me it felt like it was missing something….I understood the characters pain, but I didn’t feel it, which I think is the main reason for using this POV. One question; when U were writing this, how deeply did U feel Ur character’s pain? This is important…

    1. That’s a pertinent question you have raised Raymond…..thanks for reading.


      1. U r welcome. Keep working.

  15. Good story, Lawal. I don’t agree with your use of the 2nd person POV here – I believe this should be used when you feel that the reader can readily identify with the MC in the story – but that’s just my POV. :)

    1. many people are adopting that POV and i kinda always always avoid it…what i like here is the story anyways

    1. and if you are just experimenting with the POV for the first time, i think you did greatly..if you work on it, you might find your strength in there

  16. Nice one! I felt suspense at different point as I read, first I though she had been impregnated when her mother observed her movement. Secondly, I thought that would have prevented her aunty from taking her to the city. Far from my thoughts. This clearly depicts the torture experienced by teenage girls who are less privileged. I hope parents read this and keep their eyes on their wards. This is not for the poor only but to the rich, especially does who have house boys. Good work you got here sir.

  17. Thanks Adesoji.This is the beauty of literature; it is subject to different interpretations.


  18. Great story. Too many ‘yous’ and ‘yours’. An insight into the daily reality of a budding young girl from a disadvantaged background. I enjoyed it but keep fine-tuning the style .

    1. Thanks for reading doubleespresso.Glad you liked the storym


  19. I think you tried with the 2nd person POV, though i’ve never used it before so i’m not the best person to comment on that. But for the story – really nice. As always!

    1. You flatter me so Lade.Its good to read a comment from you again.Hope you’ve been good sha?


  20. I no understand where the ‘you write like a woman’ thing come from o…but me i know say you sabi work that pen. This is nice.

    But i feel an urge to ask…what inspires all these molestation stories sef?!?!

  21. Nice one, sad one, I wanted the story to go on, so I could see her hitting back somehow…wishful thinking I guess. Being told you write like a woman is high praise o bro.Keep fine tunning, you most certainly are a good writer. Im sure to read more of you.

  22. Where the rest of the story @?

    1. @ jonnysnow: Thanks for dropping by and reading. This is all of the story as it is a flash fiction piece.


  23. It’s a beautiful sad story…

  24. @easylife2

Leave a Reply