Abandoned (BlogFest)

So Lilah Pierce of The Good Grief writer is hosting a BlogFest for the The Last Line.

Endings have always been very important to me. Whether its the end of a book, chapter, scene, or even a paragraph, I always try to make sure its a good one. I usually want something that baits the reader; something that has a good kick to it. I had never put that much thought into what I did for my endings, until people pointed it out.

So, now I'm curious to see how others write endings. Do you like to end things intense and serious? Or maybe light and funny? Are you a cliffhanger addict? Or do you not even think about it at all? Let's find out.

This is my entry below, a short story I have shared earlier this week on Naija Stories.

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The last time I saw my mother was when I was in Junior Secondary School at fourteen years old. So I have not seen her for the better part of my life. Yet the events of that day were so clear in my mind that it seemed like only yesterday. Another thing that seemed not to have diminished with time was the hurt and pain that followed that last meeting.

We were having an Economics lesson with Mr. Ogbonna, the only young male teacher in the all-girls school. Midway through the lesson, a senior student walked into the class to speak with the teacher.

"Belle, you have a visitor at the principal's office."

A visitor ke? It was still Wednesday and visiting Sunday wasn't till the following week anyway. Not that I was expecting anybody to come. My parents were too busy quarrelling with each other to remember me most of the time.

When I saw my mother seated in the school reception chatting amiably with one of the vice principals, my face split with a hesitant smile. It had been over two months since I saw her last.

"Good afternoon Ma," I greeted responding awkwardly with one arm to her tight embrace. I replied in the affirmative as she asked about my welfare and how I was getting on with my studies. The walk to where her car was parked took just a couple of minutes. There was a strange man in the car reading a newspaper but she didn't introduce him. Still he was too well dressed to be her driver.

"How come you were able to come and visit? I asked. She usually found it difficult to take time off work and sometimes worked weekends as well. Maybe that was to be expected of a bank manager but I had always suspected that she worked such long hours to reduce the amount of time she spent at home. Especially when my dad was there, but that also meant we got to spend less time together than I would have liked. With me in the boarding house and seeing little of her during the holidays, we had drifted apart. Still I really loved her.

"Belle, I have something important to tell you. Your father doesn't know I'm here, he wouldn’t have agreed for me to come if he knew. So I think it is best this way."

I remained quiet. When was the last time they had both agreed on something?

"I can't live with your father anymore Belle. It is just not working out. If I remain in that house, one of us might end up committing murder."

I looked into her eyes and when I fully realized how serious she was I blurted, "But you're my mother and father, parents live together. I know father can be annoying sometimes but you have to stay. You have to stay for my sake."

"It's not as easy as that my child. I really have to go."

“But mother I need you. I want you to stay please?”

"Belle I'm sorry, truly I am. When I married your father, I didn't know it would end like this."

"But it doesn't have to! Who will be my mother when you go?" I interrupted the tears still streaming. I rebuffed her efforts to hug me or wipe my face with a hanky.

"One day when you're grown up you'll understand Belle. I'm leaving for America next month and will be settling there."

My tears dried at that. "You're going to live in another country? That means I'll never see you again!"

She did her best to reassure me, "You'll certainly see me. I can pay for you to pay us visit at least once a year. You remember how you enjoyed the trip to see Auntie Rose when you were ten. We'll have so much fun exploring my new place." She stopped and stole a look at the man in the car who I noticed was looking at us now. "Obike will be with us."

"Who is he?” I asked belligerently.

"He will be your new dad and we'll be together when you visit..."

I cut her off mid speech with a scream. "I don't want a new dad; I don't want to visit you anywhere! I want our family to remain as it is now." The tears were pouring in torrents now.

"You'll like him when..." She tried again to hold me but I shoved her off harshly.

“Never!” I wasn’t going to plead any more. The curses that followed were bitter. She was married to my father. She was my mother and had the duty to remain with me till I was grown up. “If you leave me, I would never forgive you or speak with you ever again. And divorce is a sin; God would certainly punish you if you leave us...”

“Belle stop it, you cannot say such things…”

"Then stay and make me stop!” She moved closer and I backed off. “Don't touch me! I hate you and I hate him!”

I ran off blindly and though we spoke a couple more times, that was the last I saw of her.

My father became even more morose after she left and started drinking at a point. I was angry at him for allowing or making my mother desert me and took it out on him and the lots of women who filed in and out of our lives. None lasted more than a year. We only made our peace several years ago after I graduated from University and started work in his legal chambers. I am happy we did because he died last year leaving me an orphan. Almost.

Yes my mother was still alive though we had not spoken in two decades. I didn't know her or care for her. She meant nothing to me after she chose another way of life over me. I heard through the family grapevine that she married Obike after they moved and as time went on, had two more children. She sent a few letters over the years but I never read them, tore them as soon as I received them.

Why did she have to come back? It had been so much simpler when she lived in the United States. Whatever she has to tell me, I did not want to hear. These thoughts ran through my head as I stared without emotion at the pattern of the carpet between my sandaled feet. Why am I thinking about these things you ask? Why now?

You see my mother is back in the country. In fact she is right here before me. But the more shocking news is that she has terminal cancer. She only has a few weeks at the most to live. God has to be playing a very sick joke on me. Or maybe she's really being punished for abandoning me.

My angel (Poem)

I dream the ringing up
From the depths of my wishes
Yet when I listen closely
The phone is really beeping
Are you really calling?
Or am I night dreaming again?
It is definitely not a figment
Of my fertile imagination
I’m filled with joy unspeakable
As I hear you through the earpiece
The happiness is unstoppable
And I break into a smile
A flush spreads over my skin
Your cool voice upon my senses
Brings relief to my scattered thoughts
There is no more need to worry
As above all these things is Love
There’s naught else to do
But to put a halo on you
You’re my angel...

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I can't wait for TGIF and the weekend, what about you? Enjoy a poem for today and check out some blogs from the right while at it. See you soon with something from the WIP.

Office Politics: The Plans of Mice and Men 2...by Myne and Tisha

"So where were you?" Funmi bit out striding angrily out of Ayo's office. I left a file on your desk earlier this morning and now I cannot find it!"

After the discovery of Funmi and Bisi's alliance this morning, it was easy to guess how the missing file and all the other ones in the past including other different things that should have gotten her into trouble happened.

"I did not see any file on my desk," Iphey replied as she fell into step behind.

"How will you? Going out for lunch and staying two hours!" Funmi turned around and glared at her. She felt like throttling the other girl's neck. Bisi had given her the lowdown on their confrontation and she was mad as hell. Imagine the small girl, after displacing her friend, she had the guts to stand up to her! Well Bisi could blame herself for trying to befriend her in the first place. See where that had gotten her.

"It wasn't like..." Iphey began.

"Pschewwwww," Funmi hissed. By now they were standing in front of her office. "Just find that file!" She snapped testily and then left Iphey standing there. She stalked in and slammed the door behind her.

Iphey walked to the water dispenser and pressed out some water in a white plastic cup and headed to her desk. She walked gingerly since it seemed even her steps annoyed some people to no end. Iphey laughed inside, her time in the ladies before searching for Funmi showed that she was still looking great. But more than that she felt great inside. After the last few hours, she was in no mood for more drama today.

It was like the day had flown by, so many things had happened, one revelation after another. After Bisi, she had shrugged it off to focus on better things and something beautiful had really come her way. She sashayed as behind her mind’s eye she could see Chinedu, tall, dark and handsome. TDH was a dime a dozen but Chinedu stood out from the rest, his features were imprinted behind her eyes so even if she closed her eyes, she could still see him and it was weird but it seemed like they were connected.

Iphey smiled. She was working alright, but only just managing to concentrate. Half of her mind was on Chinedu. She could not even remember what the reasons for her not wanting to go out with him in the first place were. Yes, he had a shady history but he had showed himself to be an honorable man so far and those were the qualities that really mattered to her.

“A penny for your thoughts,” Tunde from marketing teased her, you are grinning like the cat that got the cream."

Iphey laughed. Tunde thought it a contagious laughter that demanded for all who heard it to laugh also. He grinned widely at her.

“Are you sure you are not getting it somewhere?” he finally asked a quizzical look on his face.

“I don’t do premarital sex if that’s what you are asking?” Iphey laughed again, “I just don’t see why you can’t be happy and in love in a relationship without premarital sex?”

"You look like someone has given you some good loving," he insisted with a wink.

“Actually I am just happy o, no particular reason, God’s been good.”

“Uh hmm…tell me...”

Funmi was passing by and gave them a dirty look. "Tunde, Ayo wants you, now!"

Tunde stood to attention, blinked at Iphey and marched off.

Funmi did not pause in her tracks. She was walking with Bisi, who kept her face strictly ahead. A few paces behind them, Tola for Master Card section gave Iphey a smile and a wave. Iphey smiled back and went back to the files before her.

Iphey smiled to herself as she relived the kiss with Chinedu in the car. Her toes curled in her pumps and began to tingle. She considered whether to call him or wait for him to call first. She didn't want to make any hasty decision but it was not as if she was planning to marry him in the next month, she was just going to give him a chance to see if they could make it work between themselves.

She remembered what she discussed with Aisha a couple of weeks ago. After they had discussed finding Bisi in his apartment, the conversation had diverged to general talk.

“Aisha, most girls are hasty to get into serious or permanent relationships. For me, I have now decided that I'll give the guy a test-drive…”

Aisha’s eyes went wide, “Do you mean…?”

Iphey grinned mischievously, “No, not the way people usually mean a test-drive. I mean a time frame in which I check out the guy and see if I like him on all levels and can check if we are on the same levels when it comes to values and compatibility of personalities.”

Aisha smiled and said, “That’s what most people do but they define it with different terms." They both laughed before Aisha continued. "As long as you don't end up in a marriage of convenience.”

Iphey sighed and said, “I could never do a marriage of convenience, I would drive someone crazy.”

She smiled again and set her pen down. If she did end up with Chinedu, it would be nothing like that. She was already halfway in love with him. Something moved beside her and when she focused her vision, she watched her boss, Ayo seeing off a slinky lady. On his way back, he caught her eye and leered. When he saw that he had got her full attention, he stopped, rubbed his hands and licked his lips. Iphey turned away quickly. Did he think she found those gestures attractive? They were a disgusting turn-off. She hissed quietly.

Out of the corner of her eye, Iphey spied Funmi striding towards him. Let them sort themselves out and leave her out of it, she prayed. At least her adversaries will be reduced at the office when Bisi got sent forth on Friday. Now that she knew Funmi was out to get her sacked, she just had to be more careful with her work, keep her head down.

She worked steadily, yet before long her mind was on Chinedu again. She was tired of doing the battle of not thinking about Chinedu, so she let her mind linger on him, she had better do something about this. She day dreamed about the kiss all over again. His lips on hers, their tongues meshing, his hands on her waist, holding her tightly. Iphey sighed.

And to think she had been dreaming about him without knowing until this morning. That should have told her she would meet him. It was a course-mate in college who said that "when you start dreaming about a guy, love is either setting the wheels rolling or about to blot him from your horizon". The first was possible, the first had proved impossible so far. It looked like Chinedu had come to stay. She was happy it was no more all in her mind, where he’d been loitering all day and night for the past couple of weeks. She looked forward to seeing him later in the evening when he came to pick her up.

She asked herself whether she had time to call and tell Aisha about Chinedu, and that they were finally going to give it a go. She also wanted them to talk so she would have all the back ground information she needed. She needed advice about the way to proceed with this guy since she believed he was something special. Her mom was going to be so happy but she herself had to be sure that was not making a mistake. The case of James was still pending.

“Here you go.”

Iphey snapped out of her reverie and looked up. Jane stood before her, hand outstretched. She was holding a file.

"The shark didn't know that I saw her hiding it in the bulk counter room. No mind her, you hear?" Jane smiled as she handed the file over.

"Thank you so much." Iphey clapped quietly as the receptionist walked away.

God was on her side sha, all her enemies will be scattered for sure! He had guided her every step so definitely. His hand was evident on every part of her life. It would all work out fine with Chinedu too, all she needed to do was put one step in front of the other and commit it into his hands…


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That's it folks. The plans of mice and men will always come to nought when you keep your nose clean. Funmi and her conniving, I just wonder why she no go mind her own sef? LOL. Please vote on who you want for the next chapter which is coming up on Sunday and please leave your comments too, thanks.

This was a collabo I did with Tisha of I LOVE BECAUSE I CAN. Tisha says she's "pretty and intelligent but not street smart". I want to add that she's also talented. I love her poems. Check this out from the last one.

"I am restless
i wanna kick some one
i wanna scream, shout
i am restless
i want to let go
and just jump and shout
gone shopping
it doesn't take off
the pressure like
when i was younger..."

Office Politics: The plans of mice and men...by Afronuts

He sat behind his mahogany desk starring into space, his chin nestled in his palms. His eyes were wide open but his vision was nil; he was lost in dreamland.

He could see her; young, beautiful and promising. Everything about her enchanted him. Her smile was unique and different from what he’d ever seen on the other women around him. Yet with all the appeal she exuded, she seemed more innocent than a catholic nun. And like the sugar ant, he was trapped by this alluring innocent sweetness.

He was a man imprisoned by the unholy passion that reeked of lust and desire for a woman he had no right to own.

But in his world, the story was different. He had some degree of power and since power could corrupt, he was a very willing candidate

The Intercom on Ayo’s desk suddenly buzzed sharply startling him out of his reverie. The dreamy image of Iphey he had beheld suddenly faded into the obscurity of his subconscious.

He tapped at the intercom button, more out of anger than of urgency.

‘Yes?’

‘Sir, you have a visitor, a Miss Giwa from Abuja.’

Ayo’s mind did a brain check. He couldn’t recollect anybody by that name. His mind raced with suspicion. As a man of many escapades, he had to be careful with visits from females. Not every woman that romped with him should get to visit him at work.

He got up and strolled to his door and peeped through the pigeon hole. There was a gorgeously dressed woman standing at the secretary’s desk but he could only see her back view.

‘Sir? Are you there?’ The secretary’s voice came through the intercom again.

He hurried back to the table and tapped the intercom button.

‘Let her in.’

He couldn’t tell who she was but from the ‘good look’ of things through his pigeon hole, he was willing to take the risk.

The door swung open and Ayo was awed as he beheld the feminine spectacle that waltzed into his office.

Her svelte figure bore a body fitting red dress with rosy frills at the edges which stopped at her knees, exposing a set of long caramel tanned legs.

She wore a long hair that sat gracefully on her shoulders; her face looked spotless and fresher than a baby’s butt.

She wore no make-up except lip gloss. From the look of it, she didn’t even need make-up. That would be an overstatement.

She smiled, closed the door, walked up slowly to his desk and peered down at him through her sparkling eyes, well enhanced by contact lenses.

‘Hello Ayo.’

‘Umm…hello?’ he muttered, standing up to receive her hand shake, while trying hard to recollect where on earth he had met her.

‘It’s me, Jennifer.’

Jennifer Giwa.

Her name suddenly triggered something in Ayo’s head as memories came flooding his mind like a tsunami; the day he met her through a friend at a conference organized by the CBN two years ago at Abuja, how she had seduced him at the after party only to leave him hanging at the table because of some important call she got that required her to go to the ladies; how he had waited till the party was over and she never came back.

The mind update finished and he came back to the real world.

‘Ha! Jennifer. What a pleasant surprise. How did you find me?’

He had every reason to be angry about how he was ditched two years ago but her smile and bewitching eyes had an effect too powerful to neither ignore nor allow any other sentiment.

‘I’ll always find you. I have connections. And you gave me your card, remember?’

She came round his table and stood very close to his chair. An exotic perfume assailed his nostrils. Her hand went to his chin and caressed it softly.

Ayo felt his armpits go wet as he totally lost his composure.

‘I missed you.’ Her soft voice was taunting the hormonal noises in him.

‘You left me behind…’

‘Shhh…I know and I’m sorry’

She sat on his lap while still holding onto his chin.

Ayo’s heart skipped several times. A woman’s acceptance of fault and apology coupled with this smooshy drama was like sweet wine to his soul.

‘So what brings you here?’ He was still able to summon up the common sense to find out why she came. His brain was trying hard to be rational against the building rage of sensual adrenalin.

‘I need your help with a loan. Can I count on you?’

By this time she had drawn her face so close to his, he felt himself beginning to loose control. She leaned closer, her breath fanned gently against his face, her lips almost brushing against his…when the intercom buzzed.

Ayo’s fist slammed at the button, heavily pissed at the interruption.

‘What?’ He half yelled at the intercom.

‘Sir! The operations manager is on her way to your office!’ his secretary’s voice came whispering through the speaker. Thanks to the regular tipping he gave her to serve as his lookout for trouble.

Like a jackrabbit smoked out of its hole, Ayo came to his senses, pushed Jennifer off his lap and quickly ushered her into the toilet.

‘What’s going on?’ she asked taken aback by his sudden reaction.

‘I promise you dear. I’ll get you the loan. But I need to settle some matters with people that might be a pain in the neck. Just hide here for a few minutes and keep quiet. Trust me, okay?’

She wasn’t sure she understood all he had just said but she very well understood the part about getting the loan.

‘Okay. If you say so.’ She walked gracefully into the restroom.

Ayo closed the door just as Funmi came into the office.

She was already halfway into the office when she stopped dead in her tracks, her nose twitched.

‘What’s that smell?’

‘Excuse me?’

‘Is that a woman’s perfume I perceive?’

‘So? Are you the only female staff that wears a perfume?’

'Are you sure that girl is not in here?'

'What girl?'

Funmi waved her hand in annoyance.

‘You know who I'm talking about. I actually came to complain about her…’

‘Iphey?’

‘Yes, Iphey. I’m getting tired of that girl. She’s so incompetent. She doesn’t perform up to expectation...’

‘Would that be…your own expectation?’

‘Are you saying my own opinion doesn’t count? Do you know that she took off for lunch over an hour ago and is not back yet?'

Trust Funmi to always answer a question with a question, two in this instance. Ayo smiled and looked at her, he had to think of a way to distract her. He looked her over from the nicely weaved hair that stopped at her ears atop a set of cute gold earrings to the well dry cleaned trouser suit and finally to the shiny black high heels on her feet.

‘You look lovely today.’

Funmi was cut off balance by the remark. It was the last thing she expected.

‘Why…thank you.’

Ayo moved closer and stroked his hand down her arm. When she leaned towards him, he straightened and adjusted his tie.

‘You know I like you Funmi but on this one, I’m sorry. Your opinion doesn’t count. Besides you and Bisi, others seem to think otherwise of Iphey. They find her indispensable.’

Funmi drew back and sighed heavily. She looked at the floor, then looked back at him, hurt shone on her face.

‘Ayo, why are you doing this to me?’

‘Excuse me?’

‘You used to be so loving and compassionate…’

‘And you used to be single.’

‘So? Are you not married too?’

‘It doesn’t work the same way.’

‘Why should it be…’ She suddenly stopped. She thought she heard something in the bathroom.

‘Funmi, this convo is over. Now if you’ll excuse me…’ Ayo began but she cut him off.

‘Is there someone in there?’ She was already walking towards the restroom.

Ayo maintained his calm but his mind raced. He had to stop her from going any further.

But it was too late as Funmi’s hand rested on the door knob and turned it.

Ayo closed his eyes tightly as if it would shield him from the impending fireworks.

When he opened them, she was still at the door turning the knob. It was locked.

‘The door is locked’, she said in a tone that demanded an explanation.

‘It’s under repairs and fumigation, you probably heard the rat in there.’

Her hand quickly left the door. She hated rats and the mere mention of it.

‘I thought you were hiding Iphey in there.’

Ayo burst into laughter.

‘Stop it. It’s not funny.’

The intercom buzzed. Ayo hit the button.

‘Yes?’

‘Sir, Iphey’s coming! She’s looking for Oga Funmi’ The secretary’s whisper came loud and clear.

‘Did she say Iphey?’ Funmi asked.

‘Yep. She did.’

She gave a flustered look, refusing to meet his eyes. She now felt embarrassed that she might have overreacted. She turned and walked to the door.

‘Good thing she watches out for us.’ She said.

‘Us?’ Ayo questioned but she was out the door before he could get a reply. He heard her dialogue briefly in her usual nastiness with Iphey outside the door. Then they were gone.

He suddenly realized there were beads of sweat on his forehead and mopped them rapidly.

For a brief moment, the thought of Iphey came to his mind again. Funmi wanted her out of the picture, out of this branch or sacked for some flimsy reason but he wasn’t going to let that happen. Funmi had served her purpose and was married now. He needed a replacement and Iphey was the perfect and even better fit.

He would handle all this later. For now he had other pressing matters.

He knocked on the restroom door.

‘You can come out now.’

He heard the lock turn and Jennifer came out.

She was smiling. She had heard all the drama.

‘You’re a bad boy. Is that how you trick women?’

‘Come on. Not all women, like fingers, are equal.’

‘By the way, thanks for locking the door. I never thought of it’, he said placing himself back in his chair.

‘I might look gentle but I’m not a stupid chick’, she replied stroking his face with her well manicured fingers.

‘Now, where were we?’


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So our contributor Afronuts decided to tell us about Funmi but from the perspective of the branch manager Ayo. I found this hilarious, and I can tell you from personal experience that there are some womanizers like this guy. What can I say, in offices, BEWARE. lol...There will be no votes today since I already have a follow up but check back on Tuesday for the next chapter.

KUSH or Afronuts of the Kush Chronicles is a creative writer based in Lagos Nigeria. He sometimes runs some illustrated series on his blog and I simply love those. He also blogs about some topics which are eye-openers or food for thought. The last one was titled Bizarre jobs from History and the current one is The Murderous Innocents. Go over and check him out.

The Accident (Blogfest)

So this is a Body Language Blog Fest by the Lobotomy of a Writer. I almost didn't take part because I was too busy to write a new story. Also stories without dialogue take more out of me, I just love doing conversational pieces. Anyways, I had a chat with a friend on FB and remembered this short story I had worked on earlier to practice a workshop. These are the rules for the scene.

The scene cannot have any dialgoue at all whatsoever. There must be a conversation or some sort going on in the scene, obviously, but the characters must use body language! (Telepathy and sign language don't count!)

**********************************************************

Oyoma stood quietly between her two brothers very close to the side of the busy road. She thought a break must be coming up in the traffic when the human mass surged forward. She let out a relieved sigh and tried to hold on more securely to the brother by her right as she allowed herself to be carried closer to the road. The children were among a crowd of pedestrians, all waiting for the chance to cross the four-lane expressway safely. It was late evening and most of them were coming from their farms.

The thirteen years old Oyoma was carrying a tightly bound plastic bag of melon, freshly harvested and cleaned by all three earlier that day. The boys, both younger than her, were burdened by firewood but the bundles were not overly heavy. They were more twigs than chunky branches. Their mother wouldn’t be very happy with them since those didn’t last in the fire. But Mama would know it was no fault of theirs, in fact Oyoma looked forward to the warm leafy yam porridge that would be waiting for them at home. Oyoma was brought back to the present when people began to move.

A 7.5-ton container trailer screamed down the express towards the junction with music blaring from the radio. It had been a grueling drive from Lagos made worse by several hours’ delay at Shagamu caused by a faulty brake. The mechanic had expressed reservations with his decision to continue but Babatunde had waved him off. Now, he had smile on his face as he drove. Mama Pauline was waiting for him at her shack beside the Motor Park. She was a magician in the kitchen and in the bedroom. He imagined an amorous visit with her as he rolled his shoulders to Orlando Owoh’s “Iyawo Olele”.

Babatunde had eased off the gas pedal when he had earlier noticed the cars in front stopping to enable the crowd to make their way across. Lost in his thoughts, he pushed back down on the accelerator. Cursing the moment of distraction, he again stepped on the breaks in a reflex to correct the mistake. The break did not respond. He spun the wheel and the trailer fishtailed. The container rear end swung sideways while the cab raced ahead knocking the cars before it in all directions. At the road side, he saw chaos as everyone ran for dear life. People screamed and dived away. Those who couldn’t see what was happening reacted to the shouts of warning and fear that rent the air.

Oyoma wondered why her brother pulled away so quickly without allowing her to hold on, she had been born deaf and had gone completely blind just last year. She tried to call her brother but someone pushed against her and she stepped forward. She would move with the tide till they got to the other side. After that it would take about 10 minutes to get home to food prepared by their mum. Oyoma took two further steps before the side bumpers of the trailer tossed her into the air. The melon bag burst open with a loud plop as it landed on the road scattering wet melon seeds over the tarmac.

Before Oyoma knew what was happening, the weight of the rampaging container crashed into her displacing the comforting image of food waiting at home. She went up screaming at the top of her young lungs and in the next instant fell onto the path of the oncoming traffic in the next lane. The force of the landing cracked two ribs and dragged her a few feet on the hot tarmac. The skin on the exposed parts of her arms and legs peeled away like soft fruit. Her whole body was a mass of pain.

The first two cars in whose way she fell managed to avoid hitting her but the third couldn’t. A guttural moan escaped momentarily as the bones of her legs snapped audibly but she was soon beyond any sound. By this time all the cars had stopped, and some semblance of quiet cloaked the gruesome scene. Some of the pedestrians trailing back to the spot couldn’t help their cries of horror. Her brothers wailed and yelled her name. But it was all over; Oyoma was dead.

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ps, I don't know how clinically correct this story is but it was coming across this article on wiki that inspired the primary character Oyoma.

My Frohawk Hair Experiment.

The mohawk hairstyle has different varieties, the most popular of course is the one where the wearer shaves both sides of the head. Then there is the Frohawk which Wiki describes as "occasionally seen on African American punks, ravers and old-school hip-hop fans. Some include hair twists on the side, cornrows or just pinning up the sides. This style, originally the traditional haircut for warriors of the African Mandika tribe, was popularised by actor, wrestler and rapper Mr T."

So I cut my hair really short in February. Thing is I usually cut my hair once a year, remove at least three inches or so. I went overboard this year, don't ask me, :). I almost did the Big Chop except I had no new growth. It was soon after a retouch and I was about to fix an Afro Weave-on. I told the stylist, just cut it off, let's see what I look like without long hair. Not that we saw my frame-less face for long, we only admired the great haircut for a minutes before I put on the medium afro and left the shop.

You see I've always had long and fast growing hair. Like most girls in Nigeria, I had my hair natural till I finished secondary school. After my SSCE exams, one of the first things I did was to relax it. You should have seen the hair then, pitch black, long, thick, lots of volume. By my third year, I was tired of long hair and began looking at short hairstyles with longing. My parents, sisters and friends would hear of no such thing, I couldn't get myself to do it too, so I took refuge in the yearly trims and short weave-on styles when in the mood.

Fast forward to February, my 2009 trim had grown out again, I'm running out of style ideas and the short hair experiment was born. Anyways, I removed the Afro a couple of weeks ago and washed my hair. The next morning, reality hit. There was lots of new growth and it made the short hair stand up on end, lol. Each morning, I will condition and comb it back with no relief, after a few hours, it will puff up like blow dried chicken feathers. I also realized something I'd always feared, long hair is easier to manage. before now, I could have just put my hair in a Scrunchie and gone about my business.

Anyway, why this post? Earlier in the week, I had made an appointment with my hairstylist to retouch the hair yesterday. Thursday dawned and I was ready to go for my ESL volunteer class. As if knowing that I had a stylist appointment in the afternoon, the hair refused to be combed back even with conditioner. So I said, WTH? I combed it all forward. To make it look like a style, I pinned it up and flicked it to the side.

Guess what happened, everyone loved it! LOL. My students were all eyes and with their little English, used words like Fantastic! Excellent! Catwalk Hair! When I ran a few errands afterwards, it was the same. Being an ugly duckling and the Non-Fashionista that I am, I can assure you that I have never gotten so many looks and stares. I was blushing, lol, knowing deep down I was beefing the hair. This was me on my way to the hair salon, lol. Anyways I decided to come back home and take pictures to show Atala since he had left for work before me. He has been liking the short hair so it was no surprise he likes the Frohawk too, but more especially that flick at the front, lol. As it were, he could only admire the pics cos the hair is now tame and in a boring bob. After that, I had to share with you guys too.

Enjoy the rest of the flying frohawk...

ps, no this is not turning into a hair or fashion blog, lol

PSS, have a great weekend you all.

A Heart to Mend - Now available in Nigeria

To read the chapter one - CLICK HERE. To get your advance copies of A Heart to Mend in Nigeria;

For those in Nsukka, UNN, call 08065200621;
In Onitsha/Asaba, call 08066158599,
In Abuja Call 08036289794,
Port Harcourt 08136477573
Lagos Ikeja; 08098643221, 08059864322,
Festac 08069508842, 08023815724
For Agege Lagos 07034591699,
Iyana Ipaja Lagos 08084575936,
Ikeja Lagos (Computer Village) 08033556152,
Egbeda Lagos 08056387855...
Lagos Island Locations coming soon.

The first 500 copies of the book come with a free bookmark/ Raffle Ticket. The first prize to be won from the raffle draw will be an Ipod Shuffle. Other prizes include a Thesaurus, Memory Cards, internet modems, and Flash drives. The book presentation will hold at The DSAN center 43 Adegoke Street, Surulere Lagos on Thursday April 22, 2010 by 11am. For more information call the publicist, Ahaoma Kanu 08037487286.

On the Back Cover;

Sheltered Gladys Eborah has spent most of her life in a suburb of Enugu brought up in a deprived single parent household after losing her father as a young girl. After finishing her education, she moves to Lagos to seek a job and moves in with an estranged aunt who now wants to be forgiven for all perceived wrongs. Gladys suspects Aunt Isioma abandoned them out of disdain for their poverty, and has the uneasy role of the bridge between both families.

Her new friendships and career achievements gradually transition Gladys into an independent young woman. Soon, she begins to fall for wealthy Edward Bestman who, though physically attracted to her, is emotionally unavailable. Edward is very wealthy, but he is haunted by the past of his illegitimate birth and other secrets he will not share.

The themes of premarital sex, social class mobility, and romantic ups and downs that mark a budding love are fully explored. However, Myne Whitman takes the story even further. Some unnamed people are about to take over Edward’s business empire and Gladys is implicated. Who are these people who want to betray him and destroy their happiness? 

“Written by a Nigerian…with Nigerian characters and setting, “A heart to mend” is a fun and fast read.” – PAMELA STITCH, African Loft Magazine

“…a powerful story of how love doesn’t strut, never gives up, never looks back and keeps going to the end.”  - SHOLA ADU-OKUBOTE, Femme Lounge Online

“…something different. Some may say it is ideal to think about love…but love (romance) still exists against all odds.”  - TEMITAYO OLOFINLUA, Bookaholic

“A Heart to Mend will bring tears to the eyes and cheers at the end especially for those who have experienced the search for a career or tumultuous family and emotional relationships.” – LAN THANO, Seattle

"A Heart to Mend is certainly a romance story laddered with emotion...and already the suspense is building..."AHAOMA KANU, National Daily Newspaper

“Nigerian readers can now satisfy their yearning for well written, homegrown romance stories while the foreign readers can treat themselves to a different kind of romance--one made in the highly boisterous commercial Lagos.”  - NEXT Newspaper

What the reviewers are saying;

"Only few writers that spin this kind of tale... For once, we get the feeling that we are treading this path of love with the characters and again, we try to be one with the city, which is a character on its own. Truth is; Whitman has charmed me. Enthralling!" - Onyeka Nwelue, author of The Abyssinian Boy

“Nigerians and indeed Africans are not known for romance writing. The reason can be attributed to the sense of morality (real or apparent) that seeks to relegate issues of love to the secrecy of bedrooms and treats sex as something to be talked about only in hushed tones like it were some mysterious sacred ritual...Myne Whitman’s book, A Heart to Mend, makes a bold statement to the contrary.” - Sylva Nze Ifedigbo, Author of Whispering Aloud

“…the beauty of this book, is that there is redemption for all…in tandem with the title cover, that there can indeed be mended hearts” - Ify Malo

“…love (even with all its problems) can transform a person and heal them enough to allow forgiveness in a heart.” - FFF, www.shotmusinz.blogspot.com

“The book has been buzzing and is a definite buy.” - Arinze Obikili, www.jaguda.com

"A HEART TO MEND narrates the relationship between Gladys and Edward and offers a unique reading experience. Direct and action packed, the masterful use of emotion and suspense will keep readers totally engrossed and guessing till the end." - www.werunthings.net

“Filled with questions and themes of clashing backgrounds, societal class, premarital sex, family feuds and personal scandals, this book will have you flipping through the pages anxiously…It brings you back to the realities of life: how fragile love can be and the realizations of trust and fear.” - Mariam Olagunju, www.gidilounge.com

“Myne Whitman has written a captivating first novel…” - Linda Ikeji, www.lindaikeji.blogspot.com

“…it is the journey, not the destination that entertains in this novel, and the author has done a great job of creating a story of two characters who engage our sympathies and who we find wanting to triumph over the odds that are thrown their way.” - www.nigeriavillagesquare.com

“More than anything this book is a breath of fresh air - very different from the stereotypical images portrayed in most books regarding the continent...this is just plain easy feel good read like a top selling novel sitting on the Romance aisle at Borders or Barnes and Nobles.” - Olamild Entertainment, www.olamildentertainment.com

A captivating contemporary African love story, A HEART TO MEND is best described as heartwarming, vivid and charming. Myne Whitman delivers romance in her first and newly released novel with such practicality and skill. It is an unforgettable love story weaved together by a quixotic and imaginative mind that is both believable and relatable! - N Amma Twum-Baah, Founder and Editor, Afrikan Goddess Online

"A Heart to mend is a fearless tale about love….an unbiased story of the struggles, failures, victories, strength and harsh decisions people face at some point because of those they love. This book has a story that has been broken down and told with smooth and simple language. A Heart to mend is a delicious and beautiful story." – Chizitere Ojiaka, www.courageousfingers.blogspot.com

Operation gone wrong...by Atala Wala Wala.

It was the evening of what had been a dull and rainy day. Chinedu was waiting in a room with two other men; he had been asked to 'report for duty', as an operation was scheduled for this night. He was nervous, because unlike the past few operations, he had not been given any details. While he waited, he tried to pry information from the other two men. Serubawon, tough and surly, ignored him altogether; Chancer, quiet and tense, told him to wait for their leader, Dabaru, to come - he would tell him everything. Chinedu was edgy because the people he was more familiar with, Gbenro and a few others, were not there.

About an hour later, the door opened, and Dabaru entered, followed by Okey, another member of the gang. Dabaru was a tall, rangy man who had the air of someone scenting for danger around him. He had been involved in armed robbery for over five years; more than once, his sharp instincts had helped him evade capture. He called them all to gather round so that he could explain the night's operation.

"We are going to this address in Lekki tonight. I hear that someone there is keeping some money there this night." He stared fiercely at one of the other boys, "Okey, you know the place, right? The place I showed you when we were driving in the area the other day."

Chinedu was puzzled. "Is Okey driving tonight?" he asked.

Dabaru turned to him and smiled. "Yes, Okey is driving instead of you. I think it's time that you took part in a actual operation." He turned back to the others and continued explaining details of the operation, but Chinedu's mind was elsewhere. He knew that this day would come one day, but he hadn't thought that it would come so soon. His heart beat faster as he thought of what would happen. He had gone on shooting practice sessions with the gang before, but practice was one thing; real life was something else.

Eventually, Dabaru finished with the explanations and told them all to get into the car waiting outside; the guns they needed were already in the boot. As Chinedu passed him, he put his hand on his shoulder and said "We will make six million naira from this operation; I know you will not disappoint. Just be strong like you were in the last operation." Then he followed them out and entered the car, which promptly revved and sped off towards Lekki.

Chinedu shook his head as he recalled how horribly wrong the operation had gone. His role had been to climb over the wall of the compound at the address, then threaten to shoot the compound guard if he did not open the gate for the rest of his colleagues. Unfortunately, the guard had panicked and run towards the house, raising the alarm. Chinedu had him in his sights; but he found that he could not bring himself to pull the trigger. He stood there, sweating and trembling, as the rest of the gang shouted at him to let them in. Suddenly, there was a gunshot, and he felt a sharp pain in his leg. The robbers heard the shot, and that was their cue to flee. Chinedu collapsed and as he lay on the ground, blood seeping through his jeans, he heard the wail of sirens in the distance growing louder.

He woke up the next day at Apongbon. Five days later, the police doctor had bandaged the flesh wound on his leg inflicted by the house owner's pistol but the pain in his heart went deeper. While his answers to the interrogations had saved him some beating, he had been charged for armed robbery. His mother had visited once but there was nothing she or anyone could do. He was not up for bail and the police were were almost ready to transfer him to Kirikiri. He was sitting quietly while the other inmates raved and ranted, when a couple of prison guards approached his cell and unlocked it.

The prisoners began to chant at the guards, but they glared fiercely back and pointed to Chinedu.

“You... come with us. Oga wants to see you.”

Which oga, and why does he want to see me? Chinedu wondered, as they walked down the dark corridors that led to the prison’s chief superintendent’s office.

The guards knocked and entered. Two men were sitting at the table; one was dressed in uniform - Chinedu guessed that he was the superintendent - and the other was tall, dark and wore an expensive babanriga.

“Is that the boy?” the tall man asked, pointing at Chinedu.

“Yes, sah,” one of the guards replied.

“Hmm...” The man stroked his chin for a while, and then he spoke. “You... you were brought in from an armed robbery, right?”

Chinedu, staring in astonishment could only nod his head.

“I am Alhaji Galadima,” the man continued. “I am here to talk about the gang that you were part of...”

It turned out that the Alhaji, who was a police officer, was looking for information that would help him end the operations of Chinedu’s former gang, who were still active in the area. On inquiring, he learnt of Chinedu who had been part of the gang, but was now in custody. Galadima realised after talking at length with Chinedu that he had no great loyalty to the gang members, as they had abandoned him the moment he had been caught, and had not contacted or been to see him since. Chinedu said he would co-operate with the police in supplying information. Galadima also saw from the conversation that Chinedu was quite an intelligent person, and soon teased out the circumstances that led to him joining the gang.

His co-operation led to two members of the gang, Serubawon and Okey, being caught. It also meant that the Alhaji was able to arrange for him to be released sooner, and in addition, he volunteered to fund Chinedu’s education to university level “because it would be a shame for such a fine young mind to go to waste.” Chinedu’s eyes misted over as he remembered the Alhaji’s benevolence, but he quickly wiped the wetness away, as he slowed down his car to park at his office.

********************************************

So that's it folks, vote on the left for the next person you want to hear from.

Cupid's Risk + Naijastories Website Launch Contest

CUPID'S RISK SERIES - So the action continues on the interactive. Is Chinedu about to reveal this secret he has kept for so long? Go over to the blog and find out. Remember to leave your comments.

On other news, some of you may know of Naija Stories and the contest I was running there over the past month. Well it is all over now and I'm happy to announce the winners. You may recognize some of the bloggers among them and so tell them congrats when you see them or go over and celebrate on their blogs. I know a lot of us supported the poem for Jos by 2cute4u and so it is congrats to us all. From the website;

After one month and three rounds of judging, the Naija Stories Website Launch Contest is now complete. It was a fierce competition and the judges also had a tough time deciding on the best out of so many excellent entries. All who have got to this final stage have a lot to take pride in. You may not have won the prize but that means little but the judges opinions. I hope the posted judging sheets will help all contestants improve on their writing craft as well the comments received from other readers. Thank you all for taking part in the contest.

And the Winners are:

First place: Durosinmi by Ayobami Adebayo

Second place: Born to Die by Funmi

Third place: Reliving Christmas by FFF

Added Prize for Poetry: Harridan by Adekemi Adeniyan

People's Choice Award: For you me and they by Chacha Wabara

Prizes :

First place winner - $150, plus their entry edited by the Naija Stories Team and it will remain on the Featured Stories List for one month.

Second place winner - $100, plus their entry will be edited by the Naija Stories Team, and it will remain on the Featured Stories List for one month.

Third Place winner - $50, plus their entry will be edited by the Naija Stories Team and will remain on the Featured Stories List for one month.

- Added Prize for Poetry - $50, their entry will be edited by the Naija Stories Team and will remain on the Featured Stories List for one month.

- People's Choice Award - A free copy of the Nigerian Edition of A Heart to Mend by Myne Whitman and their entry will remain on the Featured Stories List for one month.

To join the website and take part in other contests, contact info@naijastories.com. Read those great winning entries HERE.

Have a great week and check out some new blogs from the right sidebar.

Ten Things I love + Blog Rolling

So I have been tagged by F and M of Half and Half to take part in this 101 award. These are the 10 things I love;

Music - I just love listening to music, sometimes it doesn't even matter the genre or language. I prefer ballads and soulful melodies, if the singer has an amazing voice, even better. I have to say that some Naija artistes have broken my mould for only slow songs, like Dbanj and his crew, I even danced to Fall in Love at my reception, lol. But you can guess the person wey dey do me Strong thing.

Writing - This is no surprise is it? And it should be obvious I'm not talking term papers here, I only do that when I have to. I love writing out all the people who populate my day dreams and imaginations. Writing is like magic to me, you put down these thoughts and it becomes a story that people want to read and enjoy too.

Atala Wala - 'Nuff said.

Movies - I love watching TV and the moving pictures on them but the best of the experience is sitting in a darkened cinema with over 50 feet tall images flitting before your eyes. I really love animated features but the movies that will get me any time are big block busters, lots of CGI, plenty of action, and the longer the better. You can imagine that I was in movie-watchers heaven when I saw Avatar in IMAX 3D. It even still shivers me timbers when I think about it.

Ice cream/ Chocolate - What can I say, I'm a sweet tooth. I'm working on my self control bit it's best if I don't have any of these two permanently around or someone would have to pay. Probably my tummy bursting my buttons, lol.

New experiences - I sometimes say in this regard that it's like being an adrenaline junkie. I love trying out new things, going to new places, meeting new people, experiencing diverse cultures. Even sometimes just reading about it or seeing pictures can do the same thing. When that is not enough, I do it myself - kayaking, bungie-jumping, roller-coasters, doing Europe on a students budget, and lots more.

Intelligent people/conversation - Does someone feel me?

Reading - This is related to some of the others like intelligent conversation, new things and writing. And that is why you will see me at your blog, absorbing everything. I don't do as much book reading as I used to but I'm getting back there small small.

Dancing - This is a new one, I mean me doing it. Or maybe not. I danced on my secondary school's traditional dance troupe way back when. Now I'm a fan of ballroom dancing from watching too many Dancing with the Stars. Recently, I put my money where my mouth was and we're taking lessons. I enjoy it, but I have to confess that even Kate Gosselin is still better than me.

Charity - Last but not least, I love giving to charity. It doesn't have to be masses of money cos I don't have much but even an hour of my time to make someone else happy, that will always make my day. I believe that is the best way of showing our thankfulness for what God is doing in our lives and I take advantage of every opportunity I can to give back.

So now I tag, Fabulo-la, Suru, Funkola, GidiasianBabe, Tina, NaijaWebGeek, Blessings Outlet, Diamond Hawk, Mamuje, and All the Right Words.

So these are also the places for today's blog rolling, so please roll over to theirs and say Hi. I assure you, they're all wonderful blogs. Have a nice week all, take care...