I have not blogged much about serious issues these days because i have been caught up with work and my serial story which is is still in progress.I absolutely love the gift of story telling , it is one of the best gifts God has given me and i am grateful to be able to take you guys into my mind, i know sometimes it is surprising what you find there but still in the recent days i have ben influenced with believe it or not politics, the crisis in the middle east has fascinated me, so much so that for 9 hours non stop one day i went to read all about the previous wars that have occured in Africa, the Middle east and the western world my eyes were literally swollen, my discoveries are for another post.
on sunday i received a BBm from one of my contacts, it was a story meant to sensitize mothers to be aware of what goes on in their houses, especially with their daughters, the story talked about a woman who heard screams coming from her daughters bedroom in the middle of the night, she got up but saw her husband coming from the direction of the noise, he assured her that he would check up on the girls and she should go back to sleep, relieved she obeyed,not too long after she heard another scream, she rushed out and saw her husband coming out but this time she ignored him and rushed into her daughters room, what did she see, her 7 year old daughter was lying in a pool of blood and their house girl was moping the blood. the twelve year old daughter was the one alive to tell the story, her daddy had been raping her for sometime now and that night he went for her younger sister who was 7 years old, he raped her twice but the little girl did not survive the bleeding, she died on the way to the hospital, the man is free on bail awaiting trial.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Ndidi sprang up immediately she heard her phone ring, she listened quietly to the caller on the other line and felt slight goose bumps all over her body. she glanced at the wall clock for the time it was 2.00 a.m , pulling up her pajamas trousers she reached out for a cigarette, opened her bedroom window and inhaled, feeling the warm nicotine smoke fill her lungs, it moved down her lung pipes like soothing menthol, her body began to relax and her mind started working. one of her informants had just called to inform her that Lilian Phillips had committed suicide and was rushed to a private hospital, her condition was currently unknown . Ndidi felt the pangs of guilt begin to subside from her system, true she wrote the expose article on Ochuko douglas's secret traditional wedding but if Lilian Phillips was dead she refused to blame herself, what Nigerian woman committed suicide because of a man, that was not a usual occurrence the lady was just mentally unbalanced. she stared thoughtfully at her male companion still deep asleep on her bed and let her mind wander. This situation just raised the story profile on Lilian Philips and Ochuko Douglas from entertainment to explosive breaking news and Ndidiamaka was already calculating what her next move was going to be, dead or alive the story just picked up pace and she was determined to follow it to the end.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Olajumoke's affair with Rashida ended as briefly as it had started, one saturday evening she came back late from work to find rashida's things gone and a note from her stating that she was heading to France because Lagos had become boring for her, Jumoke was not hurt, truth be told she knew that what she and rashida shared was simply borne out of loneliness, they were complete opposites, whilst she poured herself into her work rashida partied all day and night most times with her cash, she began to prepare for the inevitable when Rashida started bringing ladies home with her "let's have a threesome" she had suggested one night , jumoke did not even bother to look up from her laptop as she continued reading the report she had to place before her father the next day, "did you say something?" jumoke asked nonchalantly. "yes i said lets have a threesome, it would be fun . i am getting bored." jumoke rolled her eyes, they had had this conversation before, rashida was like a little child, all she ever thought about was sex and partying . " that's never going to happen dear, it's not my cup of tea." " it's not your cup of tea!" rashida queried, "before i met you ,life was not your cup of tea, you did nothing but eat and work , now that i ask for something little in return, something to make me happy." jumoke was fed up " rashida i am getting tired of this, you wanted a power bike to make you happy so i bought you one, you wanted to travel to south Africa with two of your friends for some zulu festival to make you happy i paid your bills, you wanted a huge birthday party in yola for your birthday i threw it for you i am beginning to think this relationship is just about making you happy.i am not having a threesome with you and some stranger, i am not filming any love sessions nothing, i happen to be a reputable business woman i wont risk my reputation over making you happy." jumoke ranted, when she was through Rashida cocked her head to one side looking at her in that unusual fashion of hers, but jumoke was not even bothered. she ignored her and continued to work on her laptop only looking up when she heard rashida bang the door to her room. one week later she had gotten the note, Jumoke shrugged and moved on with her life. she had avoided all kinds of relationships since then.