About me

Posted in Prose, Stories

Like a nail to my head

Cladded in my NYSC uniform, I alighted from the AKTC shuttle bus that I boarded from Aba to Uyo. The journey has been an unnecessary long one because of the terrible state of the express road. A journey that ordinarily would have taken forty five minutes ended up gulping three and a half hour of my time

Azumili axis was simply impassable! The road had turned into a dirty brown muddy lake at a spot stretching over the length of six poles. This is the only link road between Abia and Akwa Ibom states. It is a Trunk ‘A’ road, A federal road, so it is the responsibility of FERMA to repair it.

Some states with similar road situations have long fixed theirs using the state allocation from the federal government and have been reimbursed by the federal government. Those Governors have the people’s interest at heart. They are smart governors as the road helped improve economic activities between their states while keeping her Citizens alive and safe as well. We had to be veering into villages in and out as we forged towards Uyo. Many of the locals have erected illegal road blocks and were collecting Tolls from motorists for passing through their Villages. Even though economic activities have boosted in these villages as Children and mothers with babies strapped behind rush at vehicles with wares for sale. Fruits and snacks were on display. Yet the youth were still collecting Tolls from the drivers amidst harassment and threats. The consequence of not paying up is the puncture of your tyres or the breakage of your side mirror.

Our driver paid two hundred naira each at about nine road blocks before we got to Uyo Park.

I entered another municipal bus headed for Nkanafot in Ikot Abasi LGA. My Fiancée has invited me over. We are both youth Corpers serving the nation, having graduated together as class mates form UNIZIK Awka. She said I needed to come and witness something strange happening in the Village where is carrying out her primary assignment. She refused to tell me the details on phone. It is better witnessed than told, she had said. So I decided to visit her on a Saturday. My own primary assignment is at NB Plc Aba. I do not work on weekends.

She was waiting for me at the park when the bus stopped and I got down. The conductor closed the door and the bus was moving when I remembered.

Hey! Where my change? I ran after the bus hitting the door with my hands. The bus stopped.

You no go give me my change? I asked the conductor, I was already panting.

Is that why you are hitting the motor like that? The Driver fired from behind the wheels.

Give me my change biko! If I hit the motor nko? Na you hand go pain or na me? Or the motor complain? Give me my change biko!

Ol boy give am him change nah! The driver fired at the conductor who was searching through rustled naira notes he brought out from his pocket.

Do quick nah! The angry driver charged at the conductor! I go go o!

Go where? I challenged as I grabbed the conductor by the collar of his shirt, the Bus began to roll forward and I jugged along.

Bia! Driver! No wound me o! No wound me o! If I wound, I no go gree o!

The conductor threw a note at me and I let go of his shirt and the driver zoomed off. I picked the two hundred naira note on the floor and went back to meet Nneoma.

I slung my knap sack behind my back and pocketed my balance. Nneoma was putting on a light blue tight jeans and a pink blouse. It’s been four months we saw each other last. That was when we went to collect our NYSC call up letter at school. She looked a little pale and slimmer. She looked more mature though, those puffy cheeks of hers are deflated and her eyes have lost its sheen. I could tell she was not happy here.

Nne kedu k’ime? I asked as we hugged. She simply buried her face on my chest and held me tight. She began to sob quietly.

I can’t continue this NYSC here! She said over and over. I am losing my mind, I think I am going crazy!

Hian! Ngwa lets go to your house and talk it over. O? We shall talk when we get there. So I pulled out my handkerchief and wiped her tears, then we held hands as she led the way to the school compound. The school where she teaches has a quarter for youth corps teachers.As we trudged along, there were calls of Aunty! Aunty! Corper! Corper! From every corner of the village by her students and their parents while she acknowledged their greetings waving and greeting.

It is a female secondary school, only the Corps members live within the premise that is fenced with twelve feet high brick walled fence with barb wire. The entrance gate is a see through manned day and night by an ex-soldier, a queer character that salutes “Morning sir” in the day or night. He walks about with a hockey stick soliloquizing and sometimes shooting at imaginary enemies with his hockey stick.

He interrogated me in the military pattern and then Nneoma told him I was her husband.

Sai! Aunty so you don marry sef? You for don tell me since na! Sorry sir! He saluted. Welcome to our town, hope say you bring better come o! Because for this we village, we no dey see bread chop!

No wahala sir, I said. After come for house come collect am nah!

Shun sir! I trust Aunty Husband! I believe you sir!        

Kakakakaka! Kikikikiki! Advance party! Advance party! Fire! Fire! He screams intermittently docking and running. When he is exhausted, he begins to laugh as he dusts himself up with his hands.

Sai! Mma Abasi! War no be better thing o! He would say with a heavy Ibibio accent. Most People avoided him, and then he started marching and singing ‘I remember when I was a soldier’. That is Oga Okon’s preoccupation in the day,

At exactly 8.00PM when Nneoma and I were set to eat dinner, Oga Okon visited. Nneoma served him a plate of steaming jollof rice with chicken.

Sai! This na fowl meat o! Aunty you no get 404 meat for your pot? He asked as he gnawed at the chicken lap hungrily.

Oga Okon! You don start o! Return my chicken if you no want I beg! Nneoma countered. How many times I go tell you say I no dey eat dog meat!

Sai! Mm’Abasi! Aunty you dey miss p! If you begin chop 404 ehn? Your bodi go begin dey fresh like mami water own!

Ehn leave me! I like my body as e be! You, wey dey chop dog, why your bodi no fresh like mami water own? Nneoma asked

Na because I be man nah! I be papi water! Papi water no dey fresh, na strong e dey strong!

I could not control my laughter. I had been suppressing it but when I heard him say Papi water, I let go! I laughed uncontrollably.

Uncle, what of you? You dey chop 404? Oga Okon asked

No o! I no day chop dog o! I replied

Sai! Mbok! Make una repent o! Make una repent! He dug into the food and gnawed away humming as he ate.

Oga Okon did not leave Nneoma’s house until after 11,00PM. We were outside the veranda talking, Nneoma left us and went to sleep at 9.00PM. I did not know how to disengage Oga Okon as one story naturally led to another, I later realized I was the cause. I was showing interest and asking questions. He was telling stories of his escapades during the Nigerian civil war of 1967 to 1970.

Uncle go sleep! Good night! I opened my eyes to see Oga Okon walking away eventually. That was 11.45PM.

I sprang up and looked outside the window, I t was still dark outside. I picked up my phone from the floor, it was after 4.00AM. I dropped the phone. It must have been a dream. As I was drifting back to sleep, another shrieking sound pierced through the silent dark. I sat up in bed, the screams continued, it belonged to different voices, surely not adult voices but children or teenagers.

Wake up! Nne wake up! I tapped Nneoma.

Daddy go back to sleep! She said as she pulled me backwards

Go back to which sleep? I asked. I was terrified. Did you not hear those screams Nneoma? Nne wake up nah! Something is happening around here!

Then I heard sound of something being pounded coupled with shrieks.

Nne what is happening? I asked.

Tomorrow is Sunday; you will use your eyes to see what I have been trying to tell you all this while. You have only heard screams, she said. Don’t worry you will soon see screams.

But I am scared Nne, I can’t sleep like this.

My dear sleep o! Not after your stressful journey from Aba and your lecture with Oga Okon!

Okay, what is making that noise? I asked.

Behind the school fence is a Ministry headed by one Prophet Akpangbo. He cast out demons from witches and wizards. Don’t worry dear, sleep. When the day is bright, you will attend morning service there.

Me? What about you? I asked.

You know I am a catholic, I don’t worship in other churches.

Muwa kwanu? Am I not a catholic? I asked

I just want you to there and see what is happening in this community the Government sent me to. She said.

She fell asleep afterwards but I could not sleep any longer. The screams and sound of torture continued. I could not even touch Nneoma when it was 6.00AM. it’s been four moths that we saw each other, I had rehearsed how I would devour her when I get to Nkanafor but I was exhausted and I thought maybe after a little rest, I would make my move. Oga Okon came with his own wahala. Now after resting reasonably, this screaming thing has come up. How can I mount my woman with Children voices screaming in the back ground? Quite unimaginable.

I started to sleep at about 7.00AM. Nneoma woke me up and it was after 9.00AM by my phone.

Daddy wake up! Eat your food and freshen up. I have put water for you in the bath room and your food is on the reading table. I am going to church to be back before twelve.

Ngwa nu! Pray for us o! I said.

Twenty minutes after, I got up from the bed and picked up my phone. It was 10.30AM. I cannot describe the noise that filled the air. Sounds of local drumming, gongs clanging and bells ringing. Creams of Jesus! Jesus! Rented the air! The cries of people in pain, Kids voices. The voices I was hearing were definitely those of Children so I got into my NYSC trouser and put on my NYSC Polo shirt. I hurriedly brushed my teeth in the bathroom and splashed water on my face. I slipped into Nneoma’s slippers, feminine though but who cares as I proceeded to the school gate.

Oga Okon was absent from his post so the gate was locked but the pedestrian gate was simply closed. I opened the gate and followed the sound as it took me round the school fence.

The church is situated on a hectare of land. The concrete block fence is just four blocks high and the building is situated at the center of the vast land, as I approached the entrance I saw some men closing up a hole, a hole like a shallow grave that has just been used to bury something as I could see some form of clothing materials sprouting out of the hole as they yanked sands into it. I was staring at them until they stopped their activity and started looking at me curiously.

Na wetin? One of them asked. You no go mind your business dey go where you dey go?

I looked forward, towards the building and continued my movement so they continued their work, about three meters away from them; two men with spades were digging a hole.

The noise increased as I approached the church building, I entered the make shift caricature of a gate. The gate was not necessary as anyone could simply climb over the low fence into the premises. The gate should be for those who came with cars.

As I got inside I deduced that it was not really a proper church as I had envisioned. As I entered through the back door, I saw about twenty white plastic chairs, ten aside left and right flanks with a walk way at the middle. After the arranged chairs the floor is open and spacious before getting to a raised platform that should be the Alter because of the marble design and the pulpit. High on the wall is a huge portrait of our lord Jesus Christ on a cross. His feet and palms bleeding as he looked down on us with thorns as crown on his head. The portrait was graphic and looked so surreal.

Written in bold red letters beneath the huge portrait is the inscription “Suffer not a witch to live” The Pulpit is adorned with red and white ribbons and the walls around the Alter is designed with same colours.  Then on a door that is closed and painted white is written “Holies of Holies” in bold red letters and beneath this inscription is a sticker of the danger insignia. A skull with two bones.

Prophet Akpamgbo is robbed in pure white satin sultane with red girdle, he holds a staff that is four feet long. He is ably assisted by two men who wore white sultane also but with blue girdles. The trio is heavily bearded that you would not see their lips. On the spacious floor before the Alter are children below the age of ten, about seventy children sprawled on the floor with chains on their legs. All their heads were clean shaven exposing deep cuts from sharp objects. Some cuts were healing but most are still oozing fresh blood while some looked visibly infected. I took an empty seat at the front row of chairs and sat with my chest thumping.

I heard faint sounds from afar, as the sound drew nearer I could decipher NNeoma’s voice distinctively from others. I felt giddy as in a sub conscious state so I tried to mentally articulate my environment. The air smelled of ethanol like in a clinic so I willed myself to wake up. As I opened my eyes I saw nurses roaming about in their resplendent white gowns.

He’s back! He’s back! Hey! Corper go back! I heard a nurse say as they hover around me opening my eyes and pointing miniature lighting device to my eyes.

Daddy! Daddy! Clement! It was Nneoma calling me.

Ogini? I asked. Kedu ebe nno? Where am I please?

I no na hospital! She replied above the heads of the nurses. Uni-Uyo teaching hospital k’ ino!

Maka gini zi? I asked.

The Doctor came and examined me, he checked my eyes my pulse.

I think I am okay! I said. Kedu ka m si  ru ebe a? I asked no one in particular.

Nneoma came closer and held my hand. When I returned from the church I did not see you at home, I saw that you had not even eaten the food that I prepared for you so I went to Oga Okon to enquire of your where about. He said he had not seen you but that someone had left the gate open.

I guessed you might have gone to unravel the mystery behind the noise of the night as that was typical of you so I told Oga Okon to go and check for you at the ministry.

Barely ten minutes that he left, he came back with you lying at the back seat of the prophet’s car, they said you fainted! They said they revived you by pouring water on your head and you woke up but as you lay your eyes on the Prophets face again you screamed and fainted again, that was when Oga Okon entered the church and he insisted that they took you to a hospital. Today is your second day here now, Daddy what happened biko?

The memory came flooding back! I screamed again as I held my head, I felt for a hole at the centre of my head but there was none. But I started hearing the sound of hammer hitting a nail. I had to cover my ears with both hand, I pulled the sheets on the bed over my head as I cringed away to the edge of the bed. My head! My head!

I ended up spending one month at the psychiatric wing of the hospital. The colours white and red affected me whenever I saw them. It was after a month without progress that a Doctor suggested that they took me to his private clinic in Calabar where I would be shielded from seeing such colours until I was fully sane again.

Ntu! Nail! I whispered

Nail? Which nail? Nneoma asked.

Akuwara nwatakiri ntu n’isi! Chai! Chineke! I said.

Long nail, I whispered they drilled a long nail into a girls head! They say she should confess that she is a witch!

Chineke! Nneoma screamed before covering her mouth. We are still in the hospital

Nne! We need to start planning your redeployment from this community! I said.

I saw a lot of children on the floor in chains, they looked unhealthy and were in pains. They all looked hungry and unkempt with sunken teary eyes and big heads. I then sat on the front row to observe proceedings.

One after the other the Prophet’s assistants brought each child to the front of the Alter and they began to flog the child with horse whip! These children are less than five years old! What does a five year old baby knows Nne?

Confess! Confess! They were telling the children as they brutalized them! Who killed your grandmother? Who killed your uncle? They asked the Child! Who killed your mother? Who did this? Who did that? How many people have you bewitched? How many people have you killed? Who caused the stampede that killed fifteen people at the stadium? Who wrecked your mothers business? Who inflicted your Aunty with cancer?

Stupid! Stupid questions they were asking those kids while peeling off their skin with koboko!

Nne! I could not contain what I was seeing. I was standing and seating as if I was the one being flogged. I was screaming with the children. I sat on the floor and got up. I was restless!

The lucky children were those that readily accepted to be withes and wizards and said yes to every question asked. Those were prayed for and the evil spirit exorcised after giving them certain concoction to drink and taken to a separate spot where they fall asleep.

The unlucky innocent Kids who did not admit to being  witches or wizards where tortured until they passed out. Some actually became very limp and they were wrapped in black cotton and taken outside to be buried in shallow graves!

Nne! Immediately we leave here I am going to the police headquarter to file a complaint! This cannot go on!

The one that killed me was the case of a girl of about eight years old who was termed to be the most stubborn. Her parents had been killed in a fatal motor accident and she had refused to accept that she was the witch responsible for their deaths. So they plucked an electric stove in a socket by the Alter and when it was red hot, they stripped her of her clothes and held her face down. The prophet then unplugged the stove and pressed the red surface on this girls buttocks and her back! Nne! I did not know which was louder! My scream or the girls. She screamed until she passed out. The hall was smelling like where suya is being prepared.

When I saw that she was unconscious, I ran towards her to help but I was restrained by some heavily built men that wore black on black. They were sitting at the back of the church so I did not notice them earlier. They warned me to behave properly and reminded me of what is written beneath the statute of Jesus on the Alter.

These Children cannot be witches! I cried. It’s not possible!

Are you a stranger here? One of the stout men asked me.

Of course yes! I replied. Can’t you see I am a Corper?

But we have Corpers here too nah. None of them would behave like this. Look! If these children deal with you ehn? You will understand why their family brought them here for deliverance.

My God! Is this deliverance? I asked no one in particular as I sought for answers in the faces of the few adults present in the church but no one seem to notice me. None of them even flinched at the treatment these children were receiving.

While I was still complaining, they brought another girl forward, a girl of about five. The girl’s mother was brought forward on a wheel chair, she had been undergoing treatment in the church because they brought her from another room adjacent to the Alter. When they opened the door to that room, I saw people lying on mattresses. Then the door was immediately shut.

It was evident that this woman was suffering from breast cancer because of the obvious symptoms all over her. Her chest was bare showing a decomposing breast smeared with substance supposed to be medicine. Her hair was falling off and only few strands still remained, her skin was tight and scaly. She needed to have been in a hospital and not here! They pushed the woman to the center of the church and brought the scared girl close to her.

Who did this to your mother? Prophet asked the girl. Confess now! Confess!

The little girl started to cry calling Mummy! Mummy! Stretching forth her hands to her sick mother but the mother shrunk from the little girl and spat on her face. Mummy! Mummy! The little girl cried as the Prophet assistants grabbed her and began to flog her all over. Her clothes were pulled off. The prophet again unplugged the stove and began to jab the girl with it all over her body. My bladder gave way, my stomach became crampy and I began to vomit, what came out of my mouth tasted so bitter and it was slimy. I had not eaten. The macho men in black quickly pushed me out of the church so I could clean up. I saw a Tap near the fence so I went there to wash up.

After washing up I stood outside thinking, I was confused as though I was in a dream. It was then I heard the sound of hammer on nail followed immediately by the most horrifying scream I have ever heard in life. I rushed into the church again only to see the prophet chanting incantations and hitting a long nail into the head of this five year old girl who was held down the prophet’s assistance! I held my head and fell, I felt as if it was my head that was being nailed. That is all I can remember Nneoma.

THE END………This is still going on in some communities in Nigeria!

Posted in Prose, Stories

Dandy’s bar


The bar: Cool music is playing at the back ground, Akpan the bar man is attending to guests. On a table are three Customers, Brian, Njoku and Tope discussing.

Brian: Old Boy Nj! How far nah?

Njoku: How far for wetin? You have been asking me how far since you joined us on this table, do I owe you or something?

Tope: (Stutters) may- maybe he- he does not wa- want me to understand wha -what he  wants to tell you! If you- you owe him, you- you better pay o!

Njoku: I do not owe him anything to the best of my knowledge. Or Brian do I owe you?

Brian: You do not owe me but at the same time you owe me!

Tope: Which kain yeye talk be- be that? Abi drink don dey- dey worry you?

Brian: How can? No be only two bottles I don drink?

Tope: Ho-how many bottles have you drunk be-before co-coming here?

Brian: I have not taken any alcohol today till I got here so I am very sane. Nj have you forgotten today is Friday? TGIF nah!

Njoku: Oh! (Laughs) Campus runs abi? Is that what you are coding? Tope is not a stranger nah! No wahala, by ten o’clock we go enter!

Tope: Whe-where una dey enter by-by te-ten o’clock?

Njoku: We dey enter Campus nah! Abi you no go go Club tonight?

Tope: Okay! Na true o! Bu-but I won’t be-be free to-tonight because my-my babe is coming to-to meet me here, any moment from-from now.

Brian: that is the more reason you have to go clubbing tonight, give her a treat men!

Tope: Old Boy! You-you have a point there o! So which Clubs we –we go groove to-tonight?

Njoku: We can start from Casablanca and end at Boomerang! Old boy Boomerang na die!

Brian:  Boomerang is the place to be from two o’clock till four before taking your babe home, It puts you in the right mood! (All comments in agreement. Dandy approaches the table)

Dandy: My Ogas dem! I dey hail o! (He shakes their hands in turn) This one wey una dey here alone tonight, una no bring madam dem come?

Brian: No no Dandy! Or have you forgotten today is Friday? Its Ladies night nah! Not Wives night(General Laughter)

Tope: On-on Fridays we-we normally work ve-very late at the o-office so we don-don’t go home till Saturday morning! You-you know nah! (General laughter as Akpan comes to evacuate the empty bottles) Bar-bar man, bring another ro-round of beer!

Njoku: Dandy how far with “Point and kill”?(Live cat Fish) please arrange two for us

Dandy: How do you want it? As pepper soup or barbecue?

Tope: For-for me I prefer pepe-pepe-(Pepper!! soup others quip) yes pepper soup!

Dandy: It’s alright! (Addresses Akpan) oya! Go and bring their drinks and tell Solomon to get the fish ready!

Tope: Please pu-put enough pe-pe-(Pepper! Others quip) yes pepper! You know I am a yo-yoruba man !

Brian: Yoruba people! Ndi ofe ose, ndi ofe mmanu!( Those that eat plenty of peppery and oily soup)

Tope: What of you Igbos? Aje okuta ma mu omi (Those that eat stone without drinking water)

Njoku: I wonder why you  people say we eat stone, it does not click!

Dandy: I think I can explain that! You see, the Igbo’s like their local food like Garri, Fufu, pounded yam to be a little hard so that they can mould it well before swallowing, But the yoruba’s prefers theirs to be soft like the Amala, ilafun, semo and co! It’s just a matter of cultural preference

Tope: But how can somebody prepare pou-pounded yam and add Garri to it again ju-just to make it strong! Is it not su- suicidal! (General laughter)

Brian: And how many of us have you heard died in the process? Yeye man I beg where is the beer nah?

Dandy: Okay let me leave you Guys now and attend to your request! Ehen Mr. Tope! Any take away for madam?

Tope: No o! Not tonight, ha-have you forgotten I am supposed to-to be at work?

Brian and Njoku: (both chorus) how can you forget nah!

Dandy: (laughing as he retreats) Oh sorry! Sorry! I almost forgot!

A young svelte walks into the bar, she looks around  obviously looking for someone, all eyes turns towards her as Tope beckons at her, she smiles and cat-walks towards them. Tope stands up and offers her a seat

Tope: Sweet heart, how are you? P-Please meet my friends ,Brian and Njoku! We-We are also Co-colleagues at work. Guys me-meet Ezinne my heart throb!

Ezinne: Good evening sir (she bows slightly as she greets displaying perfectly set sparkling teeth coupled with a dimple)

Njoku: (offers a hand shake and holds onto the hand) Nne! You are welcome to our Table, I am Njoku Kunu from Ohafia in Abia state! Jeez! You are too beautiful! What are you doing with this ngbati ngbati man? (Ezinne smiles shyly)

Brian: Nj leave her hand alone nah ,wont she greet me too? (Snatches Ezinne’s hand from Njoku’s grip) my dear, my name is Brian nedu from Udi in Enugu state (Njoku interrupts)

Njoku: He is a waawa man! Please don’t let him hold your hand for too long (General laughter)

Brian: Don’t mind this bush man! Please do you have a sister or friend that looks like you? I would very much like to meet her, where are you from and where do you school? (Releases her hand)

Ezinne: I am from Owerri in Imo state and I am a four hundred level student of accounting at uniport.

Brian: well that is not actually what I meant when I asked where you are from! I meant which world! Our world or the mermaid world (Ezinne burst out laughing) you are beautiful I must confess! But what do you see in this stutterer? This ugly Yoruba man! (General laughter)

Tope: Stupid waawa man! You fine pass me?

(Akpan approaches with a tray of assorted drinks, sets it on the table and opens for each person)

Akpan: Aunty! Please what do I bring for you?

Tope: B- Bring her a small bottle of Heineken!

Njoku: Ahn ahn! Can’t she make her choice? Why do you have to choose for her?

Brian: Nj wetin be your problem? Na your Babe?

Tope: No mind am! He just dey show himself!

Ezinne; yes small Heineken please.

Brian: oho! You see yourself now? Yeye Ohafia man!

Njoku: Sharrap your mouth! waawa man.

Tope: (Addresses Ezinne) see how your brothers are f-fooling themselves because of you! And they-they are ma-married men o!

Brian and Njoku (Chorus with mouth agape) ha! Tope!

Tope: What? B-Because I told her you guys are –are married? Of course she-she knows I am a married man so-so my friends being married will not sur-surprise her.

Ezinne: (laughing as Brian and Njoku stares at her with guilt) but you guy did not tell me that you are not married either! So no big deal! You don’t have to feel bad. I understand.

Njoku: Nne thank you for understanding! Chai! Yoruba’s are always saboteurs! They can never change.

(General laughter till lights fade)



Posted in Prose, Stories


By Awoleye A.Dominic

Four teenagers, Odiri, Kikelomo, Danjuma and Adaeze are childhood friends, all children of Soldiers living together in the Army Barracks at Abakaliki in Ebonyi state, south east Nigeria.

They all attend the Army day secondary school meant for Soldiers Children and their wards. The school is tuition free for soldiers while Civilian Children that attend the school pay school fees.

Their parents are non commissioned officers so they struggle to make ends meet.

Odiri thirteen years old is the sixth Son of Copral Onorode Johnson, an urhobo man from the Niger delta region of Nigeria. Odiri has two younger brothers making a total of eight sons in the family. The mother is still hoping she begets a female child. She augments the family income by selling smoked fish at the front of their block. Corporal Johnson is a diehard pool player who has vowed to win back all his loses to the promoters of pool someday. Odiri’s ambition is to become a soldier as soon as he finishes his secondary education. His first two brothers are in the Army already.

Kikelomo Ajose is the first daughter of sergent  Bamidele Ajose, a military medical personnel from the south western part of the country. She has four younger ones; the last born Segun is the only son of the family. Kikelomo is thirteen and in JSS 2. Her father had told her that she would become a seamstress after her secondary education because he cannot afford to see her through to the University. The mother operates a grinding machine business in a stall built behind their block, The Shed is built with Zinc roofing sheets and ply wood, she wakes up very early daily to grind beans and pepper for the women that sells Akara for early morning breakfast.

Danjuma Dogaro is from northern Nigeria, southern Kaduna to be precise. His father is a private Soldier. He is fourteen years old. His mother is based in Kaduna farming and fending for his siblings. She had to remain in Kaduna when the Husband was transferred to Abakaliki so that she could live long. Private Musa Dogaro has been in the Army for sixteen years and has remained a private Soldier. He had been promoted three times and also has been demoted three times. All the demotions have been as a result of drunkenness. He becomes violent when drunk and he beats anyone around him. Danjuma wants to be a footballer; his father says he must be a Soldier. He is to try the Army recruit enlistment next year after his JSS 3 examination.

Adaeze Nwokolo is from the south eastern part of Nigeria, She is the first daughter of corpral Arinze Nwokolo of the Military Police. She has two younger brothers. She is twelve years old and in JSS2. The mother is a full time house wife who does nothing but to gossip from house to house. She is the unofficial minister for information in the barracks. Her elder sister is married to a Lawyer in Abuja and so she had put it to Adaeze that she must become a Lawyer. Corporal Nwokolo also wants his daughter to become a Lawyer. His focus is on his job and the bribe he collects as a military police officer, he is always in uniform in and out of the barracks looking for cases to settle. He is saving up money to train his daughter to the University to become a Lawyer. Adaeze got exposed to money early by stealing from her father.

The four teenagers boxed into a cocoon by virtue of being born to Soldiers are constrained to think and aspire within the limits imposed on them by their environment. Their Parents are poor and proud because of the power of the Army uniform. The Army provides their basic needs free. Free accommodation, free light, free medicals facilities, free water supply and tuition free from primary to secondary school. They live a life of contentment and forget to plan for their children’s future. To them life begins and ends in the Barracks because upon retirement from the Army, they are paid pension until their death.

These Kids must carve a niche for themselves and make a success out of life. But it has to be outside the barracks! They have to look outside the box if they must escape the life of self imposed servitude. But how will they defy their Proud Parents? Where are the opportunities? In a barrack’s life full of envy, sabotage, war, drunkenness, social vices, any child that wants to make a difference is brought down by jealous soldier’s wives and their husbands. Nobody wants the other man’s child to be better than his.

Posted in Prose, Stories

My Country our honour

To Maiduguri we were drafted
Sixty six of us with shaven heads
After six gruesome months in Zaria
We were caged in the land of no return
It was there we went through metamorphosis

In six 911 Mercedes military Trucks
We were sent to six different Battalions
To defend the six Geopolitical regions
And prevent us from splitting into six pieces
Our job was to keep the peace

I went to hell and I survived
I see, I saw and I conquered
For not all that went to the hell I went
That returned to tell the story
Of how we were dehumanized to attain glory

I was trained to maim and annihilate
With the bare hands I could strangulate
To endure the pain with eyes on the gain
All for the honour and glory of my mother land
Nigeria we hail thee, our home and mother land

As I clutched my Riffle beneath my chin
Waiting to kill or to be killed in the jungle
Flashes of home blurs my vision
My mother awaits my return from the Depot
My siblings await to see their hero

My Casandra who expects to see me every tomorrow
And my friends who wait albeit in sorrow
My inherited lands for too long have fallowed
Loved ones pray and fast and God they hallowed
That someday they will see me home when peace will follow

But today I am far away from home
Far from the love and care of my own
In the forest of Sambisa we have made home
Our quest is to make Nigeria a home

Ratata! Ratata! Infantry Guns barking
Kabum! Kabum! The sound of the Artillery
Flying shrapnel, writhing bodies, smoking nozzles
Screaming Soldiers, screaming Rebels, the race for life!
Alah Akba! Sweet Jesus! We called before we died

A man who believed in a cause
A cause sworn to uphold
To lay his life for his father land
And he turned his back against all he hold dear
For a Soldier is duty bound to serve his country

So I as lay wrapped up in bandages
My legs gone from the exploded mines
I remember my Colleagues
I see their faces as they screamed
I see as they ran and fell to the Enemy

I see as enemies tie them up and slit their throats
Blood and water oozing as life takes leave of them
I see them being charred like goats
And the tears poured down my eyes
And I weep for my fallen Compatriots

Family and friends we will see no more
Dreams and aspirations were cut short
Because we swore to serve and defend
When will this madness stop?
How can this house stand?
When siblings lift up arms against each other!

Posted in Prose, Stories

Fading values


  1. Crying too long after being beaten
  2. Not crying after being beaten
  3. Crying without being beaten
  4. Standing where elders are sitting
  5. Sitting while elders are standing
  6. Walking around aimlessly where elders are seated
  7. Eating food prepared for visitors
  8. Refusing to eat
  9. Coming back home after sunset
  10. Eating at the neighbour’s home
  11. Generally being too moody
  12. Generally being too excited
  13. Losing a fight with older age mate
  14. Winning a fight with your age mate
  15. Eating too slowly
  16. Eating too quickly
  17. Eating too much
  18. Not finishing your food
  19. Finishing your food and Scraping your plate
  20. Eating and talking
  21. Sleeping while the elders in the house has already woken up
  22. Looking at the visitors while they are eating
  23. Stumbling and falling when walking
  24. Looking at an elder eye ball to eye ball
  25. When an elder talking to you and you blink
  26. When an elder is talking to you and you stare and not blink
  27. When you look at an elder through the corner of your eye
  28. When your mates are playing street football and you join them
  29. When your mates are playing and you don’t join them
  30. When you don’t wash your dish after eating
  31. When you wash your dish improperly
  32. When you almost break your dish
  33. When you break your dish
  34. When you bite your nails.
    34.. When you don’t bathe
  35. When you bathe too quickly
  36. When you take too long to bathe
  37. When you’re beaten in school for misbehaving
  38. When a car almost knocks you down
  39. When a car knocks you down and you don’t die!
  40. For not answering when spoken to
  41. For answering back when spoken to.

Some of these reasons for beating a child may appear far-fetched today but they sure did happen and they were the norm that shaped the adults of today.

Kudos to African parents. We, the generation you almost killed with beating say ….

Dear educators, please arise and help this generation, they need us to guide them, start from your own end fast, things are gradually degenerating.
Our culture must not die!!!
Note: Only the good culture should not die, those that tend towards child abuse should totally be discarded. My thoughts …🤔

Posted in Prose, Stories

Brain teaser

One of the basics of mathematics is knowing whether the number is even or odd, divisible by 2 and by the sum of its numbers .. But look at this strange number ..!
The number {{2520}} looks like a normal number like other numbers, but it is not like that. It is a strange number and is rarely found between numbers and has puzzled mathematics geniuses to this day .. !!
The strange thing is that it is divisible by numbers from 1 to 10, whether these numbers are odd or even !!
It is known that it is difficult or even impossible to find a number that does that !!
And when we say the division is accepted, we mean without any fractions remaining after the division process … !!

  • Follow the practical application:

2520 ÷ 1 = 2520
2520 ÷ 2 = 1260
2520 ÷ 3 = 840
2520 ÷ 4 = 630
2520 ÷ 5 = 504
2520 ÷ 6 = 420
2520 ÷ 7 = 360
2520 ÷ 8 = 315
2520 ÷ 9 = 280
2520 ÷ 10 = 252

And after mathematicians were confused about finding a convincing mathematical relationship that would make one number divisible in this strange way, they also discovered that this number is the product of the numbers: 《7 x 30 x 12》 that may appear at first glance to be random numbers, but it is not !!
So the surprise that made them more confused than their first was that this number is a product of 7 days of the week x 30 days of the month x 12 months of the year (7 x 30 x12).

Glory be to God Almighty.