All posts under: FICTION

#OMOJUWAFICTION: SPECIAL DELIVERY.-@OJUOLAAPE_

Tinuola stared at the box in her hand. It was beautifully wrapped in a shimmering grey nylon and a pink bow. How did this person know her favourite colours? Since her move to this town about 32,000 miles away from her home, she had hardly made any friends. To my love. Tinu couldn’t help but blush as she brushed her fingers over the package again. Perhaps this secret admirer had sent her the latest book she was in love with. She shook the box slightly but heard nothing. A frown came over her face. Maybe it was something big. She smiled again. Carefully she unwrapped it, heart racing in utter...
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#OMOJUWAFICTION: FOR WANT OF A CHILD.(XIV)-@SEUNODUKOYA

The sun was calling it a day; kissing the tall roofs of Palm Groove with fiery red lips when Priye and Fola; straining and staggering moved the last of the furniture from the back of Priye’s Uncle’s truck into the house. “Drop am hia,” Priye said. Fola shook his head. “No o – Frank said we should put it against the wall.” “Yes na; we go put am down fest come shift am go wall.” “No. It can affect the rug – “ Priye dropped his end of the settee. “Na why I dey quick tire for you be dat – you and your yeye English. Who you wan kill?” “That’s I get tired of you...
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#OMOJUWAFICTION: FOR WANT OF A CHILD.(VII)-@SEUNODUKOYA.

Frank refused Efe’s offer of a towel, sat on the easy chair and stretched out his legs on the tiled floor in front of him. Sleep hugged him with heavy arms and he struggled valiantly, fighting off the cold and the drugs and the warmth of the room – He started awake. At some point in his doze he had slumped in the sofa, half-sitting half-lying. Now he struggled up – and swallowed a yell as he bumped his hurt finger. Choking on the pain, he sat up straighter and cradled his hurt hand, staring at the sore appendage – at the blood-soaked plaster that wrapped it. “What is it? Is that the –...
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#OMOJUWAFICTION:FOR WANT OF A CHILD (I).-@SEUNODUKOYA

“It was really good having you guys over. Really.” Igo’s eyes asked her husband abi? and he nodded, kissing her on the nose. “Thank you so much for coming – and bring the kids over next time. You know we love to have them always!” Together they watched the Osagies’ rear lights disappear over the landscape of their NEPA-abandoned street – the wailing and screaming of several generating sets providing theme music for the moment. And then they turned, arms around each other and walked into their compound. “That was great, wasn’t it? I like to see Ese – and her husband? Cool...
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#OMOJUWAFICTION- Immunity Of The Mouse.-@ABDULMUIZZX

‘I like orgasm. You know. That simple act that sometimes, most times, guarantees the continuity of nature. I like it. That rush-of-blood-to-the-brain feeling is one of the few things in life that is not overrated. I tell you. Now listen. I can get that feeling in a million and one other things. Yes I can. Don’t get me wrong. The natural way is still the best way. And I get it all the time from that source. You can bet. But sometimes, I get it from the simplest acts of humanity. Like from a smile from a total stranger. You know? I sometimes feel like a rush of blood to the brain when I see the beauties of...
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#OMOJUWAFICTION: THIS ONE SHALL STAY.- @OOLUWAFUNMINIYI

We walk as three to the neighboring village, every third month. Me. Mama. Papa. In that order. Papa always takes the rear, walking at a little distance behind us, as if he does not want to be associated with mama and me. Or as if he was on his way to someplace alone, in his mind. I walk in front, and as to everything I do, I put a rhythm to my walk. One, two, three...pam. One, two, three...pam. Like that. I have no idea why I count in threes. I have no idea how many threes I end up counting. I have no idea why I do the counting. I have no idea about many things. For instance, I do not know why I...
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Hard Choices – Olajide Akoni

We spun gracefully, two young men moving rhythmically, bodies twirling with energy as the other fellow jumped and twirled into the air in an effortless semi-circular …

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#OMOJUWAFICTION: CONFOUNDED.- @BADMUSACE

You wouldn’t believe a girl of such kind still existed in this open-eyed and perverted world. We first knew of her kind, on that day Veronica was playing one Johnny song, shortly after resumption. When it got to the part we all loved, “…and he talk say I no do am, like the way Cynthia dey do…” we all grinned, that kind of grin that concealed sprouting lewd-thoughts watered by suggestive lyrics. Veronica in her usual self playfully asked, “Wetin Cynthia dey do, wey she no fit do?” We all knew the right answer to the question, but we only replied with a wider grin and a...
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#OmojuwaFiction: Preparing for Valentine’s Day (2) – Ayo Morakinyo

  For some days after Valentine, we did not see Sule Taribo Olowolayemo a.k.a Baba More-money. So, all the boys on Voter’s street in Lekki Phase 1 thought he was attending to political campaign activities. However, news came to us a week after Valentine that Mr More-money had been captured by unknown persons. The link to a Youtube video showing how Mr More-money was confessing under unclear duress had been flying around the internet. So, we gathered at our favourite football viewing centre to see the video on someone’s laptop. In the 35-minute video, More-money read out some notes containing...
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#OMOJUWAFICTION: NS PRESS RELEASE.

      x Naija Stories is an imprint of NS Publishing Ltd, a new publishing and marketing company dedicated to developing and distributing Nigerian written content through eBooks, paperbacks, audio, websites, mobile apps and other channels. NS Publishing believes that by nurturing writers and readers, it will help develop engaged, empowered and educated Nigerians, as well as contribute to the economy through their business.   Many people say Nigerians don't read, but NS publishing...
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#OMOJUWAFICTION: THE COW-BOY AND THE TRAIN BY MUYIS ADEPOJU

  If all he told me were recorded and replayed afterwards, I wouldn’t understand half of what I understood when he told me about his family, his fears, hopes and dreams. He told me about his cows too. He was gleeful all through his narration but not as gleeful as he was when he narrated his classic exploits as a cow boy. This assertion is rather queer because I am supposed to record all conversations and replay afterwards to be able to grasp the real meanings of all answered questions, unattached at that moment to the person being interviewed. This is the standard procedure. Apart from being...
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Walls.

The walls in our house can grow. They grow like the way trees grow but they don’t need water and air to grow. They only need silence. They feast on the silence between our parents and grow to a height between them that makes it impossible for my parents to see each other even if they stood on their toes. They just grow between my mum and dad and prevent communication between them. They are beginning to grow between us, the children and our parents too. But they can’t grow between my parents and Nanny. Neither can they grow between Nanny and us, the kids. Let me tell you about my house and my parents. Let...
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Jane, interrupted.

The scene that plays on the subscribed adult television channel suggests the possibility of females camaraderie being somewhat intense than that of males. In one scene, …

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HOUSE NUMBER 77

During the crisp early hours of a Saturday morning, a group of restless teenagers take to the sleeping Jump Street of Lagos to play roadside football.  …

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FICTION: East of Eden

The parks were getting busier these days. There had been a time when the only ones here aside himself and Dare were the stray lunatics and …

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THE SOLITARY HAWKER.

THE SOLITARY HAWKER. In a pace it has determined all by itself, the rain poured down heavily on all bare and unsheltered things under it. Its …

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FICTION: You must cry to laugh – by Segun Durowaiye

FICTION: You must cry to laugh - by  Segun Durowaiye Please, I beg you in God’s name; don’t let them pack my properties inside the rain,” Matthew begged his landlord that rainy afternoon in the month of July. Matthew Bilewu prostrated on the wet ground, in tears, and continued pleading for mercy and pity from Chief Alani who was as rigid and adamant as death itself. By all standards, Matthew wallowed in abject poverty, having lost his job five years ago and owing three years’ rent. To be poor is a sin! This was all Matthew could do, because he was totally in a desperate and hopeless situation. His...
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OUR RAM IS HARAM

Our Ram is Haram Disclaimer: This piece should be appreciated substantially for its artistic value. It is a light contribution to the spirit of the moment. …

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HOW TO SOLVE A MURDER MYSTERY

SERIES: How To Solve A Murder Mystery   Episode One: Beginner’s Luck-Private Justice   Our Story begins in a dark room, with the sound of heels walking …

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MISS. COLD FEET.

MISS. COLD FEET “You know how it is with these book people, don’t you?” There was a pause at the other end of the line. An …

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MY BROTHER ODION.

MY BROTHER  ODION.   I buttoned my tuxedo, and looked back with a tight smile at the man who stood behind me. The wedding was in …

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THE LIBERATION OF ALHAJA

The Liberation Of Alhaja The painting is actually an original by an old and late hand in the industry, Wassily Kandinsky (1866- 1944). It consists of …

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Patience Jonathan PS appointment: United Nigerian Twitter Voltrons (UNTV) express shock in statements

In an unprecedented show of uncommon unanimity, the various Voltron camps on Twitter have come together to issue a joint statement condemning what they referred to as “an ingenious show of uncommon insensitivity,” as a result of the shocking appointment of the First Lady as a Permanent Secretary in Bayelsa. The group urged the Governor to re-order his steps and reward the First Lady the conventional way. Read the excerpts below: “It has come to our notice that the Governor of Bayelsa State has appointed our First Lady Patience Jonathan as a Permanent Secretary in his state. Upon receipt of the news,...
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THE CURIOUS CASE OF PAUL

THE CURIOUS CASE OF PAUL The sounds coming from the radio are inordinate. Those coming from the itinerant worshipers outside are loud and clear. Paul knows …

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A FEAST OF WATER

A FEAST OF WATER The thought was refreshing when it came to him in the dead of the night. Now he would have a chance in …

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Via BB: I’d like to get screwed

A man knocks on the door of what is supposed to be an 'exclusive' brothel. Through a small window in the door, the madam says,"What can I do for you, sir?" "I'd like to get screwed," he answered. "Shh, this is an exclusive club,"she explains."To join, you must slip a thousand dollars under the door." The man does so, but the door doesn't open. So he knocks again and the madam re-appears The man says,"Hey, I'd like to get screwed." The madam : "Again???"
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MY PIMP AND I

MY PIMP AND I Ray Charles ‘ Georgia On My Mind was playing on the radio as I made the turn effortlessly with my brand new …

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ONE CASUALTY

ONE CASUALTY His happiness was contagious. Even six-month old Sunny managed to register his own excitement in his tiny baby cot by jerking his hands and feet faster than he normally did as his father whirled his mother in the air again and again. Her laughter got louder at each successful turn and she managed to finally utter a plea when it seemed her husband was not ready to stop the fun. Albeit there were other troubles still lurking in the corner, they had a good reason to put them aside and be happy. He finally put her down. For a long while in their life, they had been sad. Sadness was the un-invited...
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The enemy in a friend

The enemy in a friend You are sentenced to 14 years imprisonment, with hard labour for raping your uncle’s daughter!” These final words from the elderly …

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AN ACT OF MAN

An Act of Man The beginning was quite easy to start. He knew the tricks of the trade by rote. He needed just to start and …

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THE AFRICAN MAN

Look! Our warrior? Yes, he is a conqueror Riding as a victor to war His glory will never fade like the memories of the dinosaur His strength, I adore His love, I wish for His pride, I ignore For pride leads to a fall Look! My father? Yes, he is my provider The roof I live under Working tirelessly, day and night Sweat fall like raindrops from his body Brought me upright, showed me the light Carried me around like a little girl plays with her kite His love for us is an endless journey Although questioned by his love for vanity Look! His friend? Yes, the world can’t comprehend So we don’t want to see...
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A PAIR OF SOLELESS SHOES (HOLD YOUR TEARS)

His spirit quailed at the ordeal ahead as he bade his friends final farewell, knowing fully well that they might not see each other again. The NYSC scheme was originally set up in 1972 by the then military administrator of the country. The primary aim was for young graduates to go away from their geopolitical zones to other part of the country and work there for a year in a bid to reduce if not eradicate the cold war between the numerous tribes in the country. The serving individual was to have broadened his horizon about his country’s diverse cultural backgrounds and hence cultivate a not-so-wary...
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Debut Under Sunday Night Lights – Rashid Johnson

…I understand that this is his first game in the NFL but you should really see this kid play. He is something Phil. I tell you, from what I’ve seen him do during practice this might just be his lucky break. He has grown and matured from the sloppy Brian we all are used to and he seemed to have learned a lot in his few months with the Cowboys. For those of you just joining us, I am James Richardson coming to you live alongside my commentary partner; Phil Stevens from the Cowboys’ stadium here in Arlington and you can get choked by the abundant tension in the atmosphere here. Eagles’ fans are loving...
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