Boarding Tales (Episode VI)

In case you missed previous episodes, they are all here

uncon

My eyelids were heavy, I wanted to put my head on the desk and sleep off but the long cane in the teacher’s hands suggested it would be a bad idea; My sleepy state was due in part to the boring nature of the class and also to the fact that I didn’t sleep well the previous night. I had been expecting to be attacked by Slappy or one of her friends and so kept dozing off and on.  I tried to keep my mind busy by thinking about the events of the earlier part of that morning, making the pictures form in my mind’s eye.

It was just about 5.15 am, there was a straight line of juniors, each with two buckets in hand walking to the stream. I followed at a distance since it was obvious no one wanted to talk to me. We got to the stream, fetched the water and walked back to the hostel, each junior with a bucket balanced on the head and another held by the hand. We reached the hostel and the juniors delivered a bucket of water to their respective masters – the seniors , all juniors except me. Standing by my bunk I watched as they picked up brooms and rakes in readiness for the various morning jobs that had been assigned to them. I slowly grabbed my towel while……..

“Eh you”!

“What’s her name”?

I felt a jab in my ribs and practically had to pry my eyes open; my eyes met the teacher’s immediately.

“What’s your name”?

“Bosola Adesegun”

“What was the last thing I said”?

I wanted to reply that the last thing he said was ask for my name, but looking at his eyes I could see the small man was ready to use the evil cane in his hands on me. So I decided not to be funny and said;

“You were talking about Stevenson’s screen sir”

I could sense the disappointed air in the room; they had been expecting me to come up empty. What they didn’t know was I hadn’t heard a word and had just said “Stevenson’s Screen” because it was the topic being discussed.

“So can you tell me what Stevenson’s screen is about”.

“It’s a screen sir”

The whole class thought it was funny and burst into laughter

“How do you mean it’s a screen?”

“I don’t know sir”

“I know you don’t, you were busy daydreaming, stand on your feet for the rest of the period.”

I didn’t stand for long as the class ended barely ten minutes later.

I had a good fifteen minute rest before the next teacher came in; it was the man I met on Sunday; the housemaster; the one that Toluse said was his drinking buddy.

He noticed me immediately he entered. He merely nodded at me and I nodded back. He was to teach us agriculture and his lecture was quite engaging, he kept cracking jokes that left everyone reeling in laughter. We finished animal hormones and neurones and he announced that the next topic was Reproduction.

“I need two animals out here”

We all looked at ourselves and I hissed inwardly

“A female animal and a male animal should volunteer” he continued, chuckling happily

I rarely get afraid but at that point I was; I had this horrible feeling that he was going to call me. I looked around again and saw that the rest of the class thought it was fun and most were grinning happily.

A guy raised his hand up and walked outside. He was a tall, thin boy whose shorts were way below the waist. I noticed he had what I call the “local look”. I can’t really define that look but some people do have it and most times confirm it when they open their mouth and speak with a highly accented English or Yoruba as the case may be.

As he walked out, shouts of Alangbz, Alangbz trailed him. I turned to my seat mate and looked at her quizzically; she answered my unspoken question by telling me that he was called “Alangba” (Lizard) because of his stature. I sighed wondering again what sort of school it was that I found myself.

“Alangbz, thank you” the teacher who I now knew to be Mr Adisa said

“So, I still need a female animal out here, if no one volunteers I might have to call someone myself”.

I looked around again and saw no one was ready to volunteer; I looked back at the teacher and saw that his eyes were on me, I sighed resignedly accepting that the burden was most likely going to fall on me.

“What’s your name Arewa”, he asked looking at me

I felt myself blush at his calling me “the beautiful one” and hoped the blush didn’t show on my fair skin.

 “Bosola” I replied running my hands through the corn rows I had just plaited the previous night.

“Is it Oluwabosola or Ifabosola”? He asked causing the whole class to roar in laughter.

“Iyabosola” I replied

“Why now, why will anyone give a pretty young girl like you that sort of name”? He asked frowning.

I shrugged wondering why most people thought the name sounded too archaic. I was born exactly two weeks after my paternal grandmother died and my dad was said to have declared that his dead mother was back hence my being named Iyabosola.

“Anyway, I think we’ll stick with Bosola abi”? He asked the class eliciting nods from them

“Okay come out Bosola and represent the female animal”.

I stood up from my seat and walked to the front with my head held high. My cardigan was tied to my waist and I saw Mr Adisa’s eyes on it.

“Face the board both of you”

Alangbz faced it immediately, grinning happily

I was about to face it when Mr Adisa stopped me

“Bosola wait”, he said

“Remove your cardigan and hand it over”, I did as he instructed and then faced the chalkboard

The boys started whistling almost immediately and although I couldn’t see Mr Adisa, I could feel his eyes on my back. I felt the heat of their collective eyes on my buttocks and it was somehow unsettling.

After several seconds, I heard his voice again;

“Okay, everybody quiet”

“Now look at these two animals, can you see that they both look matured for reproduction”.

“Yes oo”, the class chorused although it seemed the boys were the only ones enjoying the show as I couldn’t hear any girly voice.

 “Now, today we will talk about what happens when two animals come together and how they create another animal from that process”.

“Both of you face the class”

We both turned, I looked at the several pairs of eyes and smiled softly, I didn’t know why but I felt amused at this comedy they called a school. I was amused at the rapt attention they were paying to this pseudo education they were receiving.

“Now look at the female animal again, can you see how beautiful she is”?

“Can you see the skin and the mammary glands; can you see they are well developed”?

He laughed at his own statement and the rest of the class joined in.

 I saw several pairs of eyes shift to my breasts and felt my nipples tighten; I chuckled softly at the thought of what would have happened if the bra I was wearing wasn’t thick enough to hide my erect nipple.

“As we all can see, these animals are matured enough to come together”.

Mr Adisa then placed a hand at the small of my back, and the other at Alangbz back and then without warning slammed our bodies together. I winced from the pain I felt where Alangbz collarbone hit my arm.

“Uncle” he shouted as soon as he released us.

 “I am dead o uncle” Alangbz continued

The whole class was rolling in laughter amused at the way Alangbz was rubbing his chest.

“What happened”? Mr Adisa asked laughing as well

“Sir, when you pushed us together just now, something hit me in the chest, two very soft things sir”

The whole class convulsed in laughter again, some almost falling from their chairs. I watched them again and suppressed the laughter that was welling up inside me, it wasn’t a laughter borne out of mirth but a sad sort of laughter.

Mr Adisa told us to go back to our seats and we did. The rest of the class period constituted writing notes upon notes; this was punctuated with Mr Adisa’s lewd jokes.

——

School ended at 4.00 pm and we all had to go for one hour siesta before dinner and prep classes. I had not seen Toluse throughout the day and funny enough didn’t even remember he existed. I was on my way to the dining room when a boy I adjudged to be a junior stopped me and gave me a piece of paper which he said was from Toluse.

I removed the staple pins and sniffed it smiling; he had sprayed his perfume on it. I opened it and saw that it was a higher education note and every page was filled with words, I realised it wasn’t something I could read immediately and slipped it inside my hostel wear.

I got to the dining hall and sat down to eat. I wanted my mind to be out of the hall so I started imagining going to the S.S.2 block later that night with Toluse. I made the pictures form slowly as I wanted to savour the scene I was seeing in my mind’s eye.

I felt the buzz before I heard it; I dropped my spoon even as I heard several spoons clattering onto plates. Students had started climbing on the dining table while others were pushing their way to the front. I was still thinking which one of the two to choose when I saw everyone rushing back to their seats. I watched as Mr Adisa walked in, there was no mirth in his eyes , his pupils were red and he looked like he was about to beat everyone in the hall. Two people followed closely behind him; a boy and a girl with their hands tied together, I knew the girl as she was in my class but didn’t recognise the guy at all. The hall was still buzzing but everyone fell silent at Mr Adisa’s signal.

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On Such Nights

black-woman-pencil-painting-by-shahrzad-ranji

Muina stretched and yawned. She turned towards the bedside clock, “3.15 am” she muttered shivering. She grabbed the eider down and drew it up to her cheeks; the cold that suddenly enveloped her was not just due to the air conditioner in the room or the fact that she was completely naked; it had more to do with what lay ahead. It won’t be long now she thought picking the bowl of potpourri on the bedside table; she brought it up to her nose and inhaled the heady scent of Jasmine. “This should relax me” she thought at the same time realizing it had never been able to at least not on such nights.

She heard his footsteps immediately he entered the hallway; her heartbeat increased immediately. She watched the door open noiselessly, her heart in her throat. Her eyes followed him as he entered the room. He didn’t even glance at the bed; he knew she would be there, she was always there. He opened the door of the bathroom and Muina heard the running water; she clamped a soft palm on her nostrils in readiness for the pungent smell of hand sanitizers that was bound to come seconds after. She hated the smell especially on such nights. Barok had a special brand of sanitizers; they were more pungent than any she had ever come across. When he was finally through with washing his hands, she heard him run the shower – a ritual that would take another thirty minutes.

Muina waited patiently, she hated what was about to happen but knew it couldn’t be wished away. She watched him as he walked to their bed almost forty minutes after he had gotten into the room. There were no words, none were needed. Muina knew the drill, on such nights there were certain duties required of her and she was ready. She got down from the bed and knelt on the cold marble floor, she bent double at the waist ready for what was to come. “One would think this would no longer be painful after four years of marriage” she thought shouting as she felt the first strike. It was just as best that it was painful since Barok expected her to cry out at each lash of the leather belt. He never exceeded ten lashes, never. When he stopped, she raised her head and watched him stretch his arms as far as they could go. He was done, she didn’t count the lashes but she was sure it wasn’t more than ten, “so dealing lashes of a leather thong must bring some pain to the wielder too” she thought as she watched him stretch his hand muscles.

He motioned for her to stand up; she did and moved to the bed. She lay flat on the bed. The welts on her back stung but she endured fixing her eyes on the chandelier, on such nights, she would wish the chandelier will fall and pin them both to the bed. He removed the towel around his waist and she fixed her eyes on his manhood, some days an instrument of pleasure but on such nights a harbinger of terror. She watched as he poised over her, she turned her eyes to the side as he pushed himself into her roughly. Tears sprang from her eyes, her body had gotten used to the intrusion and had ceased to bruise but that didn’t stop it from hurting. The irony of such nights was Barok preferred her silent when he was having his way with her. Fifteen minutes later when he was finally done, Muina sighed inaudibly. She was free for the night, free until the next time Barok would go out on his killing sprees – the source of his endless wealth.

When that would be she had no way of knowing but she was certain she would be made to atone for his sins again, she would once again be the object that clears his mind, the vessel that brings sleep to his eyes.

She watched him lay face down on the bed spent and ready for a deep sleep. She turned her back to him, the tears still running down her cheeks. She thought of the apologies she would receive the next morning, she would be standing, he would be kneeling, he would have tears in his eyes and hers would be dry. She will forgive him or rather she would say she did. She would watch him stand up wiping at his tears. She would then think of the small bottle of Gammalin 20 in the false bottom of her jewelry box.

She would wonder when she would finally be strong enough to use it.

So you want to marry her? Should you really? by John Okpaleke

woman

Having a good woman by your side as your partner is a good thing. In fact, it is the dream of every normal man in this world. The right woman is a woman who can make you grow into a better man.

Many men experience failure in relationships because they are too quick to choose, too easily attracted and fall in love with a woman without thinking whether she is worthy or not (of course mistakes committed by men can cause failures too). Below are ten characteristics of a woman that is good enough to be called or made a wife:

1. Supportive

She is a figure who will always support you in your life as well as your career and always by your side when the whole world walks out. As we know, our society tends to require a man to be a strong man and not be a fragile person, but sadness and stress that come repeatedly will destroy you if you don’t vent your feelings. Thus, a good woman can be the best listener by providing support and comfort for you. She also gives you the freedom to develop yourself as you want.

2. Independent

This characteristic is important because it means she can manage and take care of herself. It will be very annoying when you have to be her ‘babysitter’ all the time, right? She can go home by herself when you can’t pick her up, she can go shopping by herself when you can’t accompany her, and she can rely on herself when you can’t help her. An independent woman is a woman who can stand on her feet and walk alone when you can’t be there (of course she still respects you as the leader).

3. Beautiful inside and out

From the outside, she is not a woman like Taylor Swift, Kate Middleton, Megan Fox, or Jessica Alba, but she looks beautiful and attractive in her own way, her simplicity and friendliness. From the inside, you notice that she is a person who has an extraordinary and inspiring personality.

4. Confident

She loves her imperfection, perfectly. She doesn’t hurt herself or dying to be famous and beautiful like a movie actress. She doesn’t try to be someone else, she is confident of herself and (of course) proud to have you by her side.

5. Respects you

You are the leader and she, as your partner, has respect for you and the decisions you make. She doesn’t make you afraid of her and look like a loser. But of course, you have to respect her too by not humiliating and treating her like a slave.

6. Know when to speak and keep quiet

She knows the stories that can be told to her friends and the ones she should keep to herself. She doesn’t gossip about your faults and your relationship. She knows when to speak and listen to your words. She also can speak tenderly (without yelling) when she expresses her opinion to you.

7. Loyal

Someone who’s in normal or happy circumstances tends to be a kind person. Don’t immediately assume she has a good character when she is in such conditions; just wait until you have some problems. Then you will know her true character and who she really is. Women who are not loyal will turn around and leave you when you face problems, either minor or major ones while women who are loyal will remain by your side to face the problems together. That’s why you need time to evaluate your partner before moving to the next stage of your relationship.

8. Doesn’t fall in love with your wealth and social status

In this modern era, money is something that has tremendous appeal. Money can buy positions, power, authority and even ‘love’. Of course they love the money not the person. Although money remains an important thing to think about (you can’t eat and shop without money, right?), but a good woman won’t put her love on your wealth because she already has something more valuable than money… You. Think about this… Love of money is only temporary because wherever the money goes, that’s where her heart is… But love that comes and grows from her heart to you will last for a lifetime. Why? Because wherever you go, that’s where her heart is. Do you notice the difference?

9. Simple and down to earth

There was a joke that said, “The average woman would rather have beauty than brains, because the average man can see more than he can think.” It’s funny but also true. Women are a good target market of beauty products by various companies. In fact, MOST of their body parts are good for marketing. Their hair, face, ears, eyes, hands, fingers, toenails, and so on. Don’t be trapped by a high maintenance woman if you can’t afford her needs. It’s better to choose a simple woman who still looks good with whatever she has without requiring too much maintenance. In addition, she is modest and humble in everyday life; she doesn’t demand a lot of facilities to indulge herself in.

10. Gets into your life

And the last thing is she knows and gets along well with your friends. She also knows your family well, helps your mom to prepare meals, travels with your family, and most importantly she enjoys it all sincerely. When she knows your life well and has a good relationship with your family, then you have a good chance to move into the next relationship stage: Marriage.

 

photo credit: google images

Boarding Tales (Episode V)

Please find previous episodes here

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“Who is Alaye?” I asked glancing towards the door. I gasped at what I saw, I had my answer and it filled the door way.

He was tall, fair and handsome; I knew he couldn’t be a student because he looked like someone in his late twenties or early thirties. The long cane in his hands was what grabbed my attention the most; it was long, thick and still green as if he had cut it from a tree on the way to the classroom. A teacher I thought, my heart thumping wildly.

 “Baba niyen”! Toluse hailed as the man walked in.

He glanced at me and I felt heat, I lowered my eyes and greeted him

“Good evening sir”, I said

“Are you a new student”?

“Yes, I got in yesterday”

“You are welcome dear” he said

He then thumped Toluse in the chest and said;

“Were ni iwo bobo yi oooo, girl wey just come, you don carry am like that, ehn”?

Toluse laughed heartily, weighing his crotch in his hands in that annoyingly absent manner that most guys have and said;

“Oga, ele ni omo yi now, she is too fine”.

The man drew Toluse aside and I could hear them whispering, I couldn’t make out their words but Toluse kept laughing like he had won a million dollars and the man kept hailing Toluse intermittently, saying “omo oshi, omokomo, iwo laye eee

The guy later left and I was left with Toluse,

“Who is he”?

“He is the housemaster”

“Okay, for your hostel?”

“No, for both hostels”

“He is the housemaster for the girls too? I thought it was the woman we met when Dad and I got in yesterday.”

“He is the housemaster, he travelled on Friday and must have gotten back today, I’m sure the woman you met must have been the proprietor” wife.”

“Really, why did the other students run since you didn’t leave?

“He would have punished them if he saw them here”

“But he didn’t punish you; in fact you guys spoke like friends”

“Yeah, he can’t because we are buddies, my friends and I organise babes for him, we take him out and buy Suya, Asun and drinks for him and we also give him money from time to time so we are more or less like friends”.

“I see”, I replied

I was beginning to understand exactly how the joke of a school operated, I almost felt sorry for my parents; they had thought taking me to a boarding school was a good decision, but obviously no one told them the school they were taking me to was an annex of Sodom and Gomorrah.

Standing up he said; ”let’s go to your hostel, I need to have a word with Seeke. I will talk to her and I’m sure she will let you be”

”She will really do that?”

”Don’t worry she will.”

*****

Toluse took me to an empty class beside the hostel saying he needed to go to the hostel to talk to his friends, it was the same class where I hid earlier in the day, he  told me to wait for him there and not come out until he said so. I walked to wooden window that had a peeping hole and once again I had a clear view of the front of the female hostel. I saw Slappy and her friends almost immediately. They were lying on a mattress spread in front of the hostel. There were some juniors lined up in front of them. One of them was singing and the others were asked to come forward one by one into a circle drawn on the floor. Each junior would dance for about a minute and would go back to the line. If they feel a particular junior didn’t dance well enough they would tell her to kneel on the sand.

They were so engrossed in their game that they didn’t see Toluse and his friends walk up to the hostel until he cleared his throat.

Slappy was the first to react standing up immediately she saw them;

‘’Yes, what do you guys want here…….eyin were, ki le fe?

“Seeke na me be were abi? I go wound you ehn, I go wound you” he said drawing her close by the front of her hostel wear.

I saw the ranks form almost immediately; Toluse’s friends on one side and Seeke’s gang of five on another side, Toluse dragged Seeke into the middle and released his hold on her dress.

“I’m not beating you today; I only came to warn you to allow Bosola to have peace.”

Slappy screamed at him thumping him in the chest;

“You think you can talk to me anyhow because of a junior girl ehn? I will show you in this school, you this useless dog”

Tears streamed down her face as she spoke and I watched amused.

“Bosola you are evil” I told myself snickering

“If you touch my body again I will slap you”, Toluse said, staring at Slappy’s hands as if they were leprous.

“You can’t do anything to her”, one of Slappy’s friend said

Toluse pushed Slappy away and moved towards the girl that spoke, she however ran away; causing some sniggers from the junior girls that had gathered under the Mango tree in front of the hostel. I saw one of the seniors round up the junior girls that came out to watch, she told them to move aside and start walking on their knees.

“Ouch”! I muttered under my breath, glancing at my fresh and scar free knee, nobody would ever make me do that I vowed.

I went back to my peeping hole.  Toluse was saying something and he looked stern, Slappy had moved to where her friends were; her stance defiant.

“…………….If any of you touches that girl or send her on an errand, I will organise junior boys to disgrace you and I mean it”. I saw one of Slappy’s friend shiver so slightly.

“If you think this is a joke, try me” he added gesturing for his friends to wait for him. He left as the group of senior girls watched on. I sat down on a chair wondering how I would be able to show my face in the hostel.

Toluse walked to the classroom where I was and knocked at the outer window of the class. I walked out to meet him and he took me to the front of the hostel.

“Go in” he said simply. I  entered the dormitory but stood in the doorway, I wanted to see the rest of the drama.

Turning to Slappy and her friends he said;

“If any of you wants to be stripped naked by junior boys touch that girl”

 I watched him as he walked away pride filling my heart along with the fear that they might not be moved by Toluse’s threats.

They started screaming as he joined his friends and they walked towards their hostel, it was funny considering most of them had kept quiet when the boys were around.

Koseese ooo…it is not possible”

“Nobody can come to the girls’ hostel and tell us how to handle our juniors”

Awon Oloriburuku  ill fated and godforsaken human beings…………………….”

The curses went on and on, some of them were for me, they had names for me too, names that ranged from a prostitute to a dog. Shaking slightly I walked to my bunk and climbed it, I couldn’t sleep, I wanted to be awake if and when they come for me……

Till next Monday

photo credit: google images

The Footpath

 

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It was a footpath she knew so well. A route she had walked for at least forty of her fifty and one years of existence. She would arise every morning before the Cock crows, scoop cool water from the clay pot in her veranda and splash it on her face and legs. She would raise the pillow on her spring bed and pick her Bible and rosary. She would then close her door and begin the short walk to the village church.

She would hum as she walked and occasionally chew a stick. Her route was through the pathway that ran by the side of Torokinkin; one of the many rivers in the village but the only one that was clear and cool all year long, the one where everyone got their drinking water, the one no one must step into. A calabash whose back had cowry shells glued to it hung on a tree beside the river, this was the calabash that anyone who wants water from Torokinkin must use; every one knew the rule and kept it, everyone except her. She was too religious for that, she merely avoided touching, stepping into or using the water of Torokinkin.

She walked the footpath again that morning her Bible and rosary firmly clutched in her arms, she walked briskly determined to get to church before the service began. She was half way down the length of the river when she heard the loud noise. She would have screamed Jesus and say a prayer if only her mouth could still move. She never heard the end of the noise, she had fallen before it finished, her body nestling against the river bed.

The shooter walked to the dead woman holding the Dane gun gingerly and smiling in satisfaction. It was two days to the election of the church building committee leader and the major opponent was gone. The shooter’s only regret was to see her blood forming tributaries that washed into Torokinkin. Kneeling, the shooter sent a silent prayer of forgiveness to Oluweri the river goddess.

photo credit: google images

As Faith Would Have It By Damilola Hassan

 faith

At eight, she could not say specifically if she had heard the word ‘sex’ before but she could tell you exactly how to go about it. She was sexually active.

Usually, they were the only two in the house. He had always called her in at the slightest chance he got, removed her clothes, pulled down her underwear, his shorts and put his manhood inside her. She could not tell exactly when it all started but she knew it was on for a couple of years. Why or how nobody had seen them remained a mystery. Why she could not tell anyone about it was another mystery.

 All faith knew then was that when he put his manhood inside her, he would force it deeper and before he brings it out; some whitish substance comes out after which he seemed relieved and satisfied. What Faith was supposed to feel, she did not know. Other times, he would kiss her secret place as she knew it, stick his tongue in and out and caressing the entire region. She could not explain how she felt in the process but she knew she enjoyed it. As time went by, she anticipated this particular action; she enjoyed it secretly but what puzzled her is he would always brush his mouth afterwards.

It was a routine for her and whenever they were alone, she knew what was coming. Looking back now, reminiscing, she could see herself showing no emotions at all, nothing whatsoever. She doesn’t remember crying or thinking about it. He did what he wanted and left, Faith grabbed her clothes, put them back on and life went on.

One time their cousin Greg and Steve, a family friend came visiting. Nobody was home but herself and Stan, as usual. He told her to undress and lie on the bed spreading her legs. Steve was told to undress too. He did reluctantly; he was younger than Stan and Greg. They told him to put his manhood into her secret place. It was smaller and fluffier, Faith thought.  Steve told faith afterwards ‘I didn’t like what I was told to do’; faith replied ‘why did you do it then? He felt queasy, she felt ok, normal. This is normal she thought and wondered why he felt bad.

Stan had a girl come to the house one day when it was just he and faith at home. Sometimes, she could not comprehend how the two of them were more often than not left at home. They had two aunties an uncle, a mom and a dad they stayed with. Although all of them worked, she just could not understand. Stan and his girl were in the room but Faith couldn’t help but peep. They were undressing; he was professing his love for her. Faith was disgusted. ‘So I am not the only one he does this with’, she thought, If only the girl knew he also plays with his sister.

This had to stop. At this point, she couldn’t tell anyone, it had been on for over three years, she wouldn’t even know how or where to start.

Her mom complained the other day that she was too thin. Fear gripped Faith. She started to think she had contracted HIV. Two days ago, she started to feel a burning sensation on her buttocks and a whitish discharge coming from her ‘place’: the same substance that came out from Stan’s private place.  Oh God! She thought. It had become too much for her system to take in that’s why the system is rejecting it. She became very scared. ‘I don’t want to die’ she said, to no one in particular.

She started to contemplate telling her mom, about the burns on her butt and probably the discharge. She eventually informed her mother.  Her mom returned from work the next day and sat her down.

 ‘Faith, who has been touching you?’ her mom asked. Faith died inside instantly. Even though the question was not completely a direct one, Faith knew where it was headed.

‘Who touched you?’ her mom asked again.

 ‘Nobody’,

Her mom started to talk calmly. This was unusual. ‘I was at the pharmacy’, she continued. The pharmacist said it was abnormal for a girl of your age to be having discharge, so my dear, please, who touched you? Faith began to cry and her mom joined her.

‘Mommy, it is Stanley’,

‘Huh?’ which Stanley?

‘Stanley’

My Stanley? Your brother?

Faith nodded.

Her mother jumped and fell to the ground. She began to roll from left to right shouting ‘yeee, this children have killed me o! I am dead’, She kept repeating. Faith kept replying ‘mummy, you are not dead’. This time, it was just the two of them at home.

After the drama, they headed to the hospital. Faith cried her eyes out, so did her mom. She felt she had betrayed her mother; her mother felt the same way. She kept asking Faith: how, when and where? None of which Faith could answer.

Her brother was given the beating of his life. Luckily, he gained admission and left home almost immediately.  Faith was to go to boarding school but her parents will have none of it, especially her mom, she wanted Faith close.

Faith was happy that faith played out. The burns on her buttock and the discharge both played a huge role in this peace she now owns. She believed a piece of her that she never really knew was taken away from her, by her own brother. He took it away and was oblivious of his theft.

Damilola Hassan

On twitter as @popsispice

Broken Barrel By Ayomidotun Freeborn

barrel

The empty barrel that made the loudest noise you were

Crusty voice echoed in the scorching afternoon sun as you sought our mandates

Sweet melodies of vain promises you sang into our eager ears

A breathe of fresh air you said

Of what use is fresh air to the dead

In barrels our wealth are being shipped off from the shores of our land

We beat our chest as the largest exporter of black gold in Africa

Yet we joyfully enjoy lack in the midst of plenty

The child of a cloth merchant adorned in rags

You think we are fools

You take our fat cows and bear to us corned beef in cans

In ignorance we thank you for your kindness

We never know what became of its shinning hides and rich milk

With loaded barrels you invade our homes

With a single bang;

Sorrow, tears, and blood you leave behind

You have what is yours yet you take that which is ours

Of course it is your finger on the trigger

And you leave us shaken and broken

But you forget you are not very different from me

You only try to break me because you are already broken

Alas! You have no power over me

Because a broken barrel ceases to visit the river

Keregbe to fo deyin l’eyin odo

The writer is on twitter as @iamayomidotun

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