All posts under: FICTION

EFCC is making life hard for me – Patience Jonathan

Former first lady Patience Jonathan has denied being the owner of additional $25m traced to her accounts by the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC). Vanguard reports that Patience popularly known as ‘Mama Peace’ when her husband Goodluck Jonathan was president issued the denial through a statement from her media aide Chima Osuji at the weekend. Patience described the fresh allegations by the EFCC as ‘falsehood aimed at hoodwinking the public’ and tainting the ex-first lady’s image, thereby making life tough for her because people talk about her in unfriendly terms everywhere she...
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#OMOJUWAFICTION: FOR WANT OF A CHILD.(XV)-@SEUNODUKOYA

Fola couldn’t hide his excitement. “Man! Isn’t this what you’ve been praying – “ He saw Frank’s frown and corrected himself. “ – what we’ve been praying for? I don’t understand. Why aren’t you bringing the house down with excited noise?” Frank sighed. “You don’t understand…” “Oga, I am not a woman. Make me understand. What is the issue?” ******************************************************************************************** “You’re pregnant?” Sofia, standing away from Frank, nodded. He rushed towards her excitedly and carried her off the...
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#OMOJUWAFICTION: FOR WANT OF A CHILD.(VIII)- @SEUNODUKOYA.

Fola refused to meet Frank’s eyes as he opened the door – he just stepped aside to allow his friend walk into the house. Some early morning moisture followed Frank in – and as he wiped his feet on the huge mat in front of the living room door, Fola cleared his throat. “Guy – I apologize for how I spoke to you yesterday,” he finally mumbled through a layer of embarrassment. “No wahala,” Frank said, still wiping his feet on the mat. “I was just – “ He froze as he turned and saw bruises around Fola’s mouth and neck. “Ehn?! Wetin happen?” Fola’s eyes roved everywhere but...
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#OMOJUWAFICTION: FOR WANT OF A CHILD.(II)-@SEUNODUKOYA.

The old man’s laughter rattled the windows of the house – even though he was sitting in the backyard. “My son, what have I tell you? I mean what do I told you? Dat ya wife is onye na amughi nwa – she cannot carry shuldren! But luff – luff haff bland you; common sense come commot for ya sense!” Frank leaned back in the cane chair and sighed. He sure wished his mother was home. “Look papa, just because Igo couldn’t – just because we couldn’t make babies doesn’t mean you should insult my wife.” Pa Omure cackled loudly and slapped his only son on the shoulder....
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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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#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 – Ayo Morakinyo

Sule Taribo Olowolayemo a.k.a Baba More-Money asked me what to buy for his new girlfriend, Ramota Arsenal-fan Alatasuesue on Valentine’s Day. “Ayo, I love Ramota girl very much and I really want to express my love for her this valentine. What do you think I can buy for that babe to render her excessively grateful?” He said. I looked at him through a pair of Ray Ban spectacles, “Bros, Nawa for you o! When did you just meet that one? Was it not last week Thursday that you two met at Pa Kuruyejo’s funeral? Haba! I know Sulaimon or Mr More-money as a sweet-mouth and an unrepentant Casanova that lives...
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#OMOJUWAFICTION: A DEAD RUMUOR BY MUYIS ADEPOJU (@ABDULMUIZZX)

The air was cold. It came a long way from the sea. And so, by the time it got to our house, it was cold. Because of this, it sucked at everything in its path as it traversed the long and dusty road that led to our house. If anything tasted bad in its mouth, it spat it out on the nearest object. Splashes of these were all over the walls of the houses that were closer to the sea. When it got to our part of the street; quite a long way from sea, it was so cold that everything tasted bad in its mouth. So it spat almost everything in the faces of the houses as it rushed down. When it hit us, we felt its fury...
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#OmojuwaFiction: Mr. Anansi by Kiah (@Kiahs_)

    For Tahakeino … Mr Anansi came over the other day. It was a very strange visit. The doorbell rang and I hurried to answer it with change, hoping it was the Popeyes' delivery boy with half of my dinner. It turned out to be just Mr Anansi. I opened the door and we stared at each other for a while before I ventured to speak. "Hello Anansi. Everything okay?" "Hello Ike. Yes, yes, everything is okay." He stuttered, all the while avoiding my eyes and paying close attention to the worn out carpet the landlord had insisted was brand new when I first moved in. We stayed like that for a...
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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.  They will not be obstructing traffic. This Saturday is the last Saturday of the month. In Lagos state, every last Saturday of the month is used for cleaning up the environments. It is called Environmental Sanitation day and it is an offence to move out of one’s locality from 7AM until 10AM while the clean-up lasts. Young lads often use this opportunity to play monkey posts football- four aside; bare feet; eight referees and as many assistant referees as the...
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THE DEVELOPMENT OF EGBON

THE DEVELOPMENT OF EGBON. I stand in the blazing sun. I stand in the blazing sun at the junction that was our meeting point in those days of innocence. It still feels the same. It still smells the same- adventurous. My mind takes in the surroundings within seconds and registers some changes in the buildings that are a stone throw from where I stand. Development usually comes with the erasure of some structures that represent memories of childhood.  I notice the absence of the wooden shacks that were the trademark of the popular T- junction and the presence of their replacements- blocks of shops that now...
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500 words #EndtheStory , win a BlackBerry Playbook, be a champion!

Win a BlackBerry Playbook in the first SeunWrites End the Story Competition Short story writer, editor and author of The Son of your Father's concubine, 'Seun Salami, is proud to announce his first writing competition - End the Story. The competition which is proudly supported by Bookvine, publishers of 'Seun's book, is basically aimed at challenging the creativity of young Writers of African origin in order to improve their art. Participants are expected to provide a conclusion (of not more than 500 words) to one of Seun's most popular stories first published on YNaija.com, titled, The Sex life of...
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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 Grand Cherokee jeep into the road that led to my street at GRA,  Apapa. I felt Ray’s pain as he tried to relive his childhood memories in just a song. Can anyone do that? Can anyone put all the pains, joys, passions and experiences of a whole phase in one’s lifetime into one song? But Ray did it. And he managed to let others feel it too. I felt it. Deep down in my soul, I felt it. And I felt like Ray too. I imagined him growing up in that Georgia slum with his younger brother and...
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GAME CODE: #OPERATION BLIND EYE

GAME CODE: #OPERATION BLIND EYE by Eniolamide Ogunyemi Rolex stared mouth wide as the man took his seat. Angrily, he watched him lean towards the other two men to whisper something to them. Seeking their approval? No! It wasn't that. This was a Game. The wolves were in the mood to play and they were enjoying it.  The Trio laughed out mirthlessly. This is no laughing matter! 25 men were to be murdered ruthlessly and it's funny to them! Rolex's anger only kept mounting. The men either oblivious of this or were plainly ignoring it, kept laughing at their discreet jokes. In the midst of these cacophony was...
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TANGO OF TWO

  He walks by and sees her sitting quietly at the entrance to a house. He stares and wonders why he cannot seem to stop staring, He walks on and wonders if he will ever see her again. She barely raises her head to acknowledge him. There is music in the air …………………… Now at a friend’s party he is all jived up and wants to have fun, And right at the bar with friends, there she is merry making! He sees her laugh and he is mesmerized, He must meet her this time, he tells himself. He walks straight to her and says ‘hi’ She guilelessly looks at him, smiles and says hello. And...
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CHRONICLES OF THE CLUELESS KING Chapter 1

In the first year of the jubilee of Naijaria in the year the great King Barak killed Osaman the Alquaedite, there rose a King from the West of Africa in Naijaria. At the beginning of his reign an Angel appeared to me and I was caught up in this vision. This book is the book of the records as the angel showed me through the land of Naijaria. I saw the Clueless King in all his glory as the people shouted in celebration of his rise to power. In matters of leadership the Clueless one was a failure and would at best be a ball boy in another world but this was a dream not a sane world. My dreams looked like I...
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OMOJUWA MEETS JONA THAN AND IT WAS DAMN! (A Presidential Interview)

Omojuwa: Once again congratulations on your anointing as president of the republic... Jona: (cuts in) and commander in chief of the armed forces... Omojuwa: (cuts in) armed robbers... Jona: What?! Omojuwa: nothing Mr. President, that's part of what we will be discussing. Jona: Let's be positive please. Omojuwa: Yes please. Talking about positive sir...congratulations now you have more shoes than you'd ever need. Jona: Awww. Thank you. That's the spirit. Omojuwa: Sir, what are your concrete plans for Nigeria? Jona: I already ordered Dangote and the rest of the cement people to...
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