“Where were you last night?” I heard the crunch of broken pieces of glass beneath my feet as stepped through the front door. “With Kunle.” I replied with a frown. “Why didn’t you call?” My mother stood in the corridor. I shrugged and turned around slowly, noticing that the painting that used to hang above … Continue reading Where were you last night?
I lean back in my seat as the plane taxis off the runway and sigh loudly – drawing stares from other passengers. The past two days have been hectic, packed full with dancing, drinking, and non-stop partying. Sadly, weekends always come to an end, and now I am on my way back to the hustle … Continue reading A Father’s Love (inspired by the Dana Air crash)
Adunni my iPad just bought me an e-book, “The Granta Book of the African Short Story” published byGranta and edited by the Nigerian writer Helon Habila. The book’s “Introduction” written by Habila alone is worth the price of the book. Adunni is happy. I am happy. It is an engaging, cerebral, thoughtful and comprehensive treatise on … Continue reading Helon Habila and The Granta Book of the African Short Story
This time he would obey mummy. He wanted to see that good smile that lit up her face whenever she was pleased with him. He liked that smile. It wasn’t like the one he had seen her give daddy so many times. And when she would smile this bad smile daddy would just keep talking. … Continue reading The Pink Chick
The okada came to a stop just by the side of the road. Peter dismounted and paid the okada. The bike noisily clambered along the sand strip before it joined the main road. Peter dusted the grains of sand that had clung to his trousers during the undulating ride along one of Lagos’ finest pathways. … Continue reading All fingers are not equal true true!
Blackout! Just before the bullet found its mark, Remi had a flashback of the flash bang and Lade squeezing her eyes shut before squeezing the trigger. She hadn’t thought Lade would have the guts to shoot when Lade returned. Where had she found the gun she was now holding and pointing with shaky fingers? Lade … Continue reading Rewind
Kaizo slammed a chunk of balled fist on the counter raising a thin cloud of dust in the process startling the elderly Officer Okoro who passed out some odorless gas from his anal port. The younger Officer, Osamu sneezed and blinked, looking up at the six foot plus figure of Kaizo.
Both officers just blinked and looked at the heaving hulk of a figure before them. Officer Okoro decided he was getting too old for these energetic youth of today. On the radio, the Jamaican reggae artiste, Culture, sang,
“..and if you fight against the youth man of today, blood a go run…”