Wendara

Not the first one. ”You are not the first person to ever do that.” That was mama’s favourite phrase in the world. Whatever I did, she had always encouraged me with that phrase. Whenever I lost hope, even in her absence, my mind would depend on her dim voice at the back of my head. And I would picture her in her wrappers, and flip flops, shaking her head and a perfect set of white teeth on display, as she said the phrase. At seven, when I had bitten Kalu and broke Kitan’s arm. She had said that phrase and told me not to blame myself too much. Many people had done it, and a lot more people would do worst. I was just little among those. At ten, when I had insulted my teacher for making a mockery of me in class. Mama had said, it was the teachers fault for mocking me, and she deserved it. Moreover, I was not the first person to ever do that. She had transferred me to a better private school, where teachers didn’t have the right to mock their students. She had to spend extra hours at work

It’s being a long time I was here. And I am feeling like an extremely lazy writer. But, with all hopes an constant practice.  I decided to come back and I think it will be better than before. Thank you all. 

Overprotected, that was how I felt. I’m  a princess, and the only daughter of king and queen Mirus. The kingdom doesn’t have a crown prince because my mother died when I was six month old. Since then, the king had refused to marry another queen. He had promised to protect and guide me because I was an incubated child. He felt I was never strong, and needed guide surrounding me every minute, but it was the opposite. I was strong enough to fight for myself. I also have God to fight for me. One day a war broke out in our community. My father tried to save me, but I was captured by the strange fellows, that looked more like an alien. They do not look like human, but they had the strength of humans. With two big fingers they carried me like I weighed nothing. I was frightening. I wiggle to get off them, but those two finger seems more powerful than the whole of me. My father army had thrown sword and stone at them that they did crush it. Mind you, the are not giant or so big,

He sat on the bed in his room, the stereo blasting _Olamide’s poverty die_ . The room was a two bedroom flat, and he was the only occupant of the apartment. His gaze was fully concentrated on his phone. The app opened on his phone was hangout, and he kept staring at the name of his client, the one him and his friends named, ‘best mugu’, who was offline. Apart from the constant money he received from best mugu, the word and their chat was something he looked forward to everyday. “Maybe she is busy at work.” He tried to console himself. Moving to the names of other clients on the list, he tried chatting them up, but found it boring and time consuming. Dropping his phone, he moved to his kitchen to make his breakfast. Maybe after his breakfast, she would be online. After taking his bath and eating to his satisfaction. He went back to pick his phone with a full smile plastered on his face. Only for the smile to fade away, when he saw her status; offline. He threw the phone on the bed, a

The sound of her feet, kept on destroying the silence of the environment.  She hated him. She hated the fact that he could make her feel this way. Bisi felt lumps in her throat. She tried to remember what she could have done to deserve the way he treated her. She swallowed the lump. She heard Tomi's step after her. It was getting closer. Holding her skirt that kept on moving with the wind as her feet moved forward. She felt him closer. "Stay away from me Tomi. I hate you." She screamed, hating the way her voice sounded. "Just stop Bisi. It's still the same thing." He responded, equally screaming but with a clear voice. He ruined it. He ruined her birthday. She felt a hand on her waist, stopping her from running further. Without words, she felt his lips on hers. Seeking entry into her mouth. His tongue kept pushing her lips wider. She tried to kick him, wiggling from his hold. She had to keep reminding herself. He was a liar. And, all this, the

PRETENDING ADULT Sorry, it has been a while. Today It's all about pretending adults, or rather an immature adult. We all know that a person above eighteen or slightly eighteen is regarded as a young adult, but once you attain twenty-one years of age. The person is now a full adult, who can sign a contract and can make all law binding decisions. Actually, they are people who are above the said age; twenty-one but are still very much a child or teenager. Their mental capacity is just like that, they think like a child. I call them Pretending Adults.  Adulthood is not about the age or number in the years that count. It is not about I am thirty or forty or whatever age people deem maturity as. It's about the experience, it is more about what you have faced, what you can point to as our achievement, more on what had happened and how you dealt with the occurrence. The rational decisions. The realness in reality – how you have decided to face reality. The problem s