Tag Archives: Creative

STUCK: The Other side of Valour— #FridayFictioneers

I am a blood sucker!’ she says, teasingly

Walking through the jungles of Otohro village, I wander into the forest where Igbe feast is celebrated. It is legendary for it mystics. I am notorious for my curiosity. I find myself at a brook. Serene and reflective, I make to feel the warmth of the stream but a voice rings out which stops me momentarily.

‘Are you my saviour?’ she asks casually

‘No! Who are you?’ I venture to ask

‘Am a stranger, the villagers want to kill me. Take me with you’ she says from her leisurely-seated posture.

‘To where, I pray thee? I am a stranger, too’

‘I am a blood sucker!’ she says, teasingly.

We are in my room. I offer her a cup of tea; she turns it down. She is visibly hungry.

‘Let me make you Indomie.’

‘No!’

This girl speaks polished grammar, looks sophisticated but acts erratically local.

In the middle of the night, the candlelight flips off. A whimper arises in my ears.

I reach for my phone and switch on the touch-light

‘I am hungry.’ she says apologetically.

‘Go to the pot and help yourself’

‘No, can I suck a little of your blood?’

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WHY I DO NO VALS

Twice have I found love; on both occasions, I lost it cruelly. Since then, I had needed a reason to smile at the world, a reason to pour out and indulge. I never did until a year ago; but my heart has since been closed against love.

Three years ago, I had a dog, named Kent. It was a local hound but served to keep my company. We shared love, as two desolate creatures should. Our love was short lived, thanks to another intruder who stolen its heart.

Prentice, was a neighbourhood dog too; but with a mixed pedigree and a higher IQ. In a recast of my personal story, Kent fell in love with Prentice. The same way Ifeoma had fallen for one of our college lecturers, a divorcee with a lot of money, his own house and roving hands. He was nearly twice my age; there is nothing a twenty-year-old can do against such opposition. Either ways i was left lonely in no time.

Trouble set in on a fateful day they went scavenging but Kent got hit by a reckless hit-and-run driver. It died two days later at a veterinary home. I wept, more for my serial of losses in two years than for the soulless dog.

Prentice kept faith with me during my morning days. Was always at my door at their usual playtime, hoping Kent would pop out and tell her it was all a joke. The same way I had waited on Ifeoma, roaming the botanical garden every weekend to see if some benevolent spirit would conjure her out of the blues. Shame! Those fellas had gone on sabbaticals!

I hated Prentice from that day on. I did all that was humane to get Prentice from my back but it kept coming with that look of ‘where is my beau?’ until a day, out of savage anger, I smacked it with a club in the presence of their housemaid. Prentice howled in pains and limped off the streets.

Later on, Prentice declared war on me. I was more than ready. We never met on the streets without Prentice barking furiously and making advance to attack and I, getting ready to smack again.

That was before six months ago.

I had met sheri at a grocery store on a street down the road. I had paid my bill, but I didn’t pay the balance, attention, to the lady. The more reason, because I did not have the currency, time, to pay it on me than to steal unconsciously. But, my conscience would not let me be and my adrenaline didn’t help matters—at 212’F boiling point upon every thought of her! I undertook to pay my debt both the principal and its interests after two weeks of harassment from within.

Sheri played hard to get like a game of Sudoku; I bore it all like a Christ being led to Golgotha.

‘All I want is an undivided period of discussion somewhere out of this shop.’ I murmured on a day of frustration

‘But all I want is an unencumbered day without seeing your face.’ She retorted, matter of fact.

‘I can go for days to satisfy you, if only you’ll allow me this privilege for a day too.’

‘And will that be all?’ She asked suddenly

‘Yes, just a fraction of your time to pour on your my devotion and attention’ I agreed

I got a deal that shut me indoor for two weeks. Sheri had proposed a 14-day of intentional absence or no deal. I bet those days were the most agonising. The more I planned my itinerary to avoid a collision with her, the more her thoughts ravage through me.

After days of hibernation like a bear in the winter, our appointed day finally came.

I set out without the slightest omen of the potent evil the day held.

There was I dressed to impress my date, in my tuxedo, Rolex and Italian shoes—you couldn’t have got a better man on that day. It was one of those days called valentine.

Locating her house gave the least challenge, cruising in my rented Navigator Jeep. I had to step up my game since the experience of Ifeoma. Money and appearances matter in this game.

I stepped into the gate to find an expansive structure: the first surprise. I had taken it for granted that the girl was just a shop attendant.  Didn’t she tell me ‘come to our house and pick me?’ I doubted within myself. Such is life was the thought in my head.

But, before I could say Jack Bauer, Prentice appeared at my front: ‘Surprise number two’ I muttered.

It made advance to bark but without a second thought, I gave it a spanking kick in the mouth with my new Italian ankle shoes. It writhed away barking in great pain. I was proud of my investment and myself.

As I was about to knock on the door, I heard a crack from my back; a sudden snap of something and some evil-intent accompanying rush of something vibrating with speed. I attempted to look back, lo, a pack of six ravenous hounds were approaching with some violent intent.

In a fraction of seconds, my buttock was hooked in the jaws of one of them. I yelled and hopped for the sidewalk to avoid them; dashing across the corridor to the lawn and taking the route Prentice had taken. The barking had intensified now. I knew I was done for when Prentice surfaced again at my front looking savagery and fierce.

I surrendered like the saviour at Calvary and the hounds crucified me in good faith. My tuxedo was torn, and I got my heels were bitten, too. Now, I was crying and squirming in pains when Sheri came to my rescue. She called out for help, telling the maid to come with water and the first aid kit.

‘This is the man that smashed Prentice’s leg the other day.’ A voice thundered from behind

I looked up and saw the housemaid that took Prentice for a walk, the day I smacked it. Sheri sprang up from beside me like a victim of an insect sting.

‘What, are you so callous, even to animals; and you want to take care of me?’ she queried

I just looked on and pleaded for forgiveness.


ABUSED: the story of a good girl.

My uncle, Ube, was a great fisherman. He was my first example of a good man. Mama calls him so and our neighbours see him so. He goes to the river every day and never forgets to bring me fingerlings—daughters of the queen of the coast. Those he instructed mama to prepare for me with much pepper, to give me good health. I first ate it when I had caught a fever—but I found it wicked then, giving pepper to an ailing child; I now relish every bit and sip of Nkwobi soup. Occasionally, he gifts mama bowlful of fish that, she sells at the eke market.

Since Pa’s death, he has been good to Mama and me; he promised to see me to any level at school, if I remained a good girl. But, who doesn’t want to be in his good books like Itegiri, the daughter of our village Baptist pastor? Therefore, mama and I are most grateful for all his goodwill; even, the neighbours have kind words to say about him. Not just because he takes care of his maternal relations but he was such a generous man to all that comes his way.

He is found of children and plays with us as if he were our father. Our parents allowed this, to compensate for his lack of children. Uncle Ube has no wife and hardly thinks of getting one. When we play with him, he gifts out sweets, especially to the well-behaved ones, which I am always among.

He asks us to deep hands into his pockets and play with an Nsi’monkey that is hidden there; the longer we played the bigger were our rewards. Only Itegiri ever complained of not liking to play with the Nsi’monkey:

‘Nsi’monkey usually messes up my hand with Catarrh!’ she voiced, one day.

Uncle Ube called her a bad girl and we never called her along to Uncle Ube’s house anymore.

Uncle Ube came to our hut on the last eke market day when mama had gone to sell her fish. He asked after mama and I told him where to find her. He complained of tiredness and I gave him a stool in the room to rest. Moments later he called me and requested I play with Nsi’monkey

‘But, the fun would be lost without other children here?’ I complained

‘No, the better for you to take all the rewards.’ He countered

As I started playing with the Nsi’monkey; Uncle Ube reached out to grab my breasts, I wondered what he was up to. He smiled. He cupped my breasts in the bowl of his hands and smiled again.

‘You’re a good girl. If you continue to make me happy like this I would never let you suffer again’

I started losing consciousness but Uncle Ube’s hands were hurting me, yet I didn’t want him to take them off. He started talking again but they went muffled in my hearing.

‘…never let anyone know; not even your mother.’

Though lost to other words, that mention of mama stopped my heart and I jerked off from his laps. Mama has warned me about keeping secretes from her and how can her own brother tell me to do so.

‘Don’t do that, you don’t want to get me angry, do you? he asked in persuasive tone

Do you remember the Igbe feast garments that I promised you and your mother, I won’t get them for you again; you and your mother would be shamed by the community. Now, come here and play along I won’t hurt you’

I thought of the humiliation that mama would face if he kept his threat, and if what I am doing is right. Uncle Ube is a good man mama often says and why do I want to enter his bad books like Itegiri?

‘Nsi’monkey has poured catarrh on my hands, too.’ I complained.

Besides, why don’t you want Mama to know?’ I queried.

‘It’s because I want to surprise her.’ He said reassuringly.

‘Hope you will buy those Igbe garment for us still?’ I asked again

‘Yes, if you’ll be a good girl still.’ He said.

‘Why won’t she be a good girl?’ Mama’s voice thundered from the balcony

I ran inside to clean up my soiled hands before mama would think I have been playing with catarrh to irritate Uncle Ube.

‘Apkevwe, it is good that you are back’ Uncle fired back

‘Your daughter may have started joining bad groups you had better admonish her to remain a good girl, or else, I will hands off your affairs in this house.

‘Nweke! What has come over her? God forbid evil!

As I returned into the room, Uncle Ube stormed out of our hut.

Mama asked what happened but I couldn’t utter a word. I did not understand what suddenly turned up Uncle Ube’s rage; I haven’t said I won’t play with his Nsi’monkey.

Mama pleaded with me to be a good girl and continue to please the kind human spirit the gods had sent our way. She begged me to behave well not to incur the wrath of uncle Ube before the Igbe feast. She sent me to go and apologise to him before his anger settles down in his mind.

Uncle Ube was furious, I begged him and begged but he wouldn’t bug, so I dipped my hands down his pockets and grabbed at his Nsi’monkey. He smiled at my sudden use of initiative and rose to touch my breasts, I was hesitant but I remembered mama’s admonition to do everything that pleases him.

He took off his clothes to reveal a huge bulge down his member and I was scared.

Mama barged in, two hours later, and met me weeping in a pool of my own blood. She screamed. But, I passed out, thinking the world had come to an end.

No one has seen Uncle Ube since then, and most people look at me with some hidden scorn. Was I ever wrong to have heeded mama’s voice?