1. Leave a comment below and you'll be eligible for an autographed paperback copy of my forthcoming novel, A Love Rekindled - Hot off the Press!
2. When you sign up for the blogfest using the Linky Tool below, there is another autographed copy up for grabs.
Papa had hosted his age grade to a feast to celebrate his promotion at work and the new car he had purchased. It was almost over, but people still milled around. The house was all a bustle and Mama had warned us not to get underfoot. We were in the field playing when Odion, my twin collapsed on the ground crying in pain. A sharp stab almost stopped me in my tracks as I moved to him. He was lying like a baby clutching his middle. Another jab had me falling beside him with moan. Odion groaned and rolled on the wet earth not minding the mud, or the thorns hidden between the long blades of grass. I dragged myself up and limped inside to find our parents. This was worse than the pain I had experienced some months earlier, when my appendix was removed.
“Mama, Mama!” I screamed once I burst through the door.
The party scattered soon after as Papa ran out into the field and scooped Odion into his arms. My brother was unconscious by then, and Mama began to wail. Two of Papa’s friends and another woman were squeezed into the back of the car with me as Papa sped off for the clinic. Mama sat in front with Odion on her laps. She fanned him continuously, muttering a prayer intermittently. Odion recovered after some minutes and whispered my name. I whimpered and leaned over the seat. The woman with me dragged me back and pushed a small drink at me. She handed the other to Mama with the instruction to give some to Odion if possible.
“Listen, this is the last time I’ll say this.” Chief Mukoro said, and shook a be-ringed finger at her. “I told Kevwe why Itsekiri people cannot be trusted, and he has accepted another suitable girl I chose for him. He's changed his phone number and moved out of his house, how else can he show he doesn’t want you anymore? Leave him alone!”
His words hit her like stones, leaving burning nicks in their wake. It couldn't be true, Kevwe would not choose another girl over her. “But we promised…”
“Promised what?” he pushed his face closer to hers. “Kevwe doesn’t want you. You’re not good enough for him. He can’t see where you fit into his future, and that’s it.”
“Please sir, I don’t understand…I’m sorry, but can I see Kevwe, talk to him…”
The force of the door cut her off as it slammed in her face. Efe trekked all the way to campus like one in a daze, calling on Nneka, who then followed her to her room. By the time they got there, Nneka knew the whole story. Two days later, Efe still refused to leave the shroud of her sheets.
“Why? Why? How can it end this way? If Kevwe had to reject me, at least he could do it to my face.” She sobbed, tears trickling from her eyes.
At first I thought, what a hoax, but I'm somehow addicted to personality tests, IQ tests and all that, so off I went. The site is Typealyser.com, and all you need is enter your blog URL and viola! It tells you who you are.
I actually think some of these personality tests try to hard to box people into narrow definitions. I have come to realize as a few others have too, that most of us fall into the middle cracks of these tests and have a combination of different personalities. For me, mine can change on an hourly basis even. In the long run though, and more generally, I think I'm closer to the ISTP of my author page, and I've heard that it shows up in my books. But I can be social when I want to be, and that is why I think I've managed this blog and my branding of my books quite well.