It was on the morning of 23rd January 2006. I woke up at 5am, and then I went to the bathroom to take my bath. It all started with the bad fall, which I had in the bathroom.
I was grateful to God that I did not hit my head on anything hard. And my bone wasn’t broken. After I had taken my bath and dressed for school, it was 6am. On my way bringing our breakfast out, I tripped over and fell down breaking six mugs. I had cuts on my leg. I was shivering. I was thinking about the beautifully designed mugs that have crashed into pieces. Nobody worried about them. I was taken to the hospital for treatment without much delay.
Just for me to cross the road and get into our car, I was nearly knocked down by a careless BTU driver (Base Transport Unity). What a most frightening way to start a day.
On getting to school I was informed that our loving teacher who went for promotional exams had an accident on their way going. They all died. I was shocked to silence.
Later the evening I felt so cold and realized I could not eat at all. I bit my tongue so hard that blood was gushing out. I couldn’t cry. Though promotion is from God Almighty not from any other person… And I would not say this is the day everything went wrong in my life because I don’t know what will happen tomorrow…
Ahmed Bala Rufai
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
LONG LONG HOLIDAY
Holiday has come once again. We miss our mum like there’s no tomorrow. Biggie and I started the holiday without her. We had to go and stay with our family friend, although we were not used to them. My mum had to travel to Mecca because that was the only trip she had been waiting for and nothing could stop her from going.
The house we went to stay was not bad because my cousins were there too. Their children were very entertaining especially the eldest amongst them, Mohammed.
At first, I didn’t want to stay but mum persuaded me to. The family is a nuclear family with five lovely children. The mother of the house is a very strict. She is a no-nonsense woman. We also call her “mum” as a sign of respect. Their father is a very funny person but when he could be stern when the need arises.
Biggi and I had problem with the food because we weren’t used to their food choices but hunger taught us to get by. They eat semovita, bean cake with garri, okro soup, fish and spaghetti and these food, I dislike. Do you ask what I eat if dislike all these?
Mummy call on us everyday to find out if we are okay. For the first three days I wasn’t happy because I was missing my mother. There is one problem with me. I easily don’t get satisfied with things around me. I find it difficult to mix wit people. Most times I think shy people are mistaken to be snobbish but only a shy person knows what keeps her away from the crowd…
Aisha Adeola Abubakar
The house we went to stay was not bad because my cousins were there too. Their children were very entertaining especially the eldest amongst them, Mohammed.
At first, I didn’t want to stay but mum persuaded me to. The family is a nuclear family with five lovely children. The mother of the house is a very strict. She is a no-nonsense woman. We also call her “mum” as a sign of respect. Their father is a very funny person but when he could be stern when the need arises.
Biggi and I had problem with the food because we weren’t used to their food choices but hunger taught us to get by. They eat semovita, bean cake with garri, okro soup, fish and spaghetti and these food, I dislike. Do you ask what I eat if dislike all these?
Mummy call on us everyday to find out if we are okay. For the first three days I wasn’t happy because I was missing my mother. There is one problem with me. I easily don’t get satisfied with things around me. I find it difficult to mix wit people. Most times I think shy people are mistaken to be snobbish but only a shy person knows what keeps her away from the crowd…
Aisha Adeola Abubakar
ON THE AVALANCHE
Hadiza Ndama
The little yellow lamp glowed dimly and finally went out. That was the last thing I could recall. Every other occurrence that night was obliterated from my memory.
Then I saw light. I didn’t see any trace of where it came from. As I rolled on my back, there was a hullabaloo around me, contrasting people with different facial expressions moved to and fro. The horizon stretched out like friendly piles of ice-cream. In total oblivion of the real world, I was awakened by a tap on the shoulder.
“Hello, do you mind taking a walk?”
It was a young handsome bloke smiling widely at me. He looked again, his eyes peering into mine. Then suddenly, his lovely smile began to fade away and all I could see was mere terror overcoming his confidence. Without thinking twice, I looked at myself, but alas, my extremities were all scaly and horrible claws took the place of nails. Letting out a loud yell, I went off the rails.
My skull almost cracked open as I woke up into the morning light. I heard birds chirpily hovering about and the intertwined posies looked very pleasant. Next was a wide carven, stooping before me and all at once, there was another tap on my shoulder. Who could that be?
“Come with me” the voice said. I turned abruptly and saw a face similar to the former but more mature. He pulled me and I dragged myself helplessly after him; into the carven. Arriving at the strange chamber, I was appalled; large hairy creepy crawlies were all over the place, the walls were painted with horrible graffiti, cobwebs clung to my body and if not mistaken I heard rattles. My teeth clattered, my hair stood up. What a sight to behold!
“You mean there are rattlesnakes here? Oh my!” I was terrified to the core.
“Don’t worry. You only need a form of revitalization right now”, he said, as I held him tightly – not knowing what was on ground. There was a two –feet deep pile of dead mice in a corner. As I watched in awe the structure of the whole place, fully shielded humans from nowhere appeared and grabbed me.
“Not again! Leave me alone!”, I shouted, kicking hard, but to no avail. There was a slight pain as an object pierced me. Soon, I began to hear voices talking, one after the other. The voices sounded familiar. “Why did you make such a mistake?” a voice asked, accompanied by a blurry voice.
After gaining consciousness, I pulled myself up, feeling scattered and worrisome…
Hadiza Ndama
The little yellow lamp glowed dimly and finally went out. That was the last thing I could recall. Every other occurrence that night was obliterated from my memory.
Then I saw light. I didn’t see any trace of where it came from. As I rolled on my back, there was a hullabaloo around me, contrasting people with different facial expressions moved to and fro. The horizon stretched out like friendly piles of ice-cream. In total oblivion of the real world, I was awakened by a tap on the shoulder.
“Hello, do you mind taking a walk?”
It was a young handsome bloke smiling widely at me. He looked again, his eyes peering into mine. Then suddenly, his lovely smile began to fade away and all I could see was mere terror overcoming his confidence. Without thinking twice, I looked at myself, but alas, my extremities were all scaly and horrible claws took the place of nails. Letting out a loud yell, I went off the rails.
My skull almost cracked open as I woke up into the morning light. I heard birds chirpily hovering about and the intertwined posies looked very pleasant. Next was a wide carven, stooping before me and all at once, there was another tap on my shoulder. Who could that be?
“Come with me” the voice said. I turned abruptly and saw a face similar to the former but more mature. He pulled me and I dragged myself helplessly after him; into the carven. Arriving at the strange chamber, I was appalled; large hairy creepy crawlies were all over the place, the walls were painted with horrible graffiti, cobwebs clung to my body and if not mistaken I heard rattles. My teeth clattered, my hair stood up. What a sight to behold!
“You mean there are rattlesnakes here? Oh my!” I was terrified to the core.
“Don’t worry. You only need a form of revitalization right now”, he said, as I held him tightly – not knowing what was on ground. There was a two –feet deep pile of dead mice in a corner. As I watched in awe the structure of the whole place, fully shielded humans from nowhere appeared and grabbed me.
“Not again! Leave me alone!”, I shouted, kicking hard, but to no avail. There was a slight pain as an object pierced me. Soon, I began to hear voices talking, one after the other. The voices sounded familiar. “Why did you make such a mistake?” a voice asked, accompanied by a blurry voice.
After gaining consciousness, I pulled myself up, feeling scattered and worrisome…
I ONCE HEARD LAUGHTER
I can’t find your face in this crowd
Darkness fills the void
It is injustice made by you
I can’t touch your hand in this crowd
War is the field
Darkness within
Darkness without
Your face covered in pain
You and I crave for love
I once heard your laughter
but that was long ago
so long ago that
I can’t make out its melody
I pray to hear it again
even its disappearing echoes
will soothe my heart.
Aisha Aliyu Bima
Darkness fills the void
It is injustice made by you
I can’t touch your hand in this crowd
War is the field
Darkness within
Darkness without
Your face covered in pain
You and I crave for love
I once heard your laughter
but that was long ago
so long ago that
I can’t make out its melody
I pray to hear it again
even its disappearing echoes
will soothe my heart.
Aisha Aliyu Bima
MY HEART BREAKS
My heart breaks
Like when an egg
Falls into the hands of a stone
My heart breaks
Like when a tornado
Hits the face of a rock
My heart breaks
Like when a rock
Smashes on an ant’s head
I am thinking of hungry children
Scavenging for food in a Greenland
I am thinking of penury
Made by your greedy hands
Worn with contentment
My heart breaks
Because I hear the dying voices of children
Whimpering against the deafening sirens of wasters
I am thinking
Thinking fragile thoughts that break the heart
Like a sledgehammer shatters the kernel
Aisha Yahaya
Like when an egg
Falls into the hands of a stone
My heart breaks
Like when a tornado
Hits the face of a rock
My heart breaks
Like when a rock
Smashes on an ant’s head
I am thinking of hungry children
Scavenging for food in a Greenland
I am thinking of penury
Made by your greedy hands
Worn with contentment
My heart breaks
Because I hear the dying voices of children
Whimpering against the deafening sirens of wasters
I am thinking
Thinking fragile thoughts that break the heart
Like a sledgehammer shatters the kernel
Aisha Yahaya
When the Pen Calls
When the Pen Calls
A medley of genres
ed.(c)2007
... is a blend of literary genres which finds expression in the creative fire of young people telling of the experience and the innocence of their own world, real and imagined, asking to be heard in a world full of noise and chaos.
The writings manifest a keen knowledge of existent challenges and evil in the society which are capable of destroying the desired life craved by the young ones.
A medley of genres
ed.(c)2007
... is a blend of literary genres which finds expression in the creative fire of young people telling of the experience and the innocence of their own world, real and imagined, asking to be heard in a world full of noise and chaos.
The writings manifest a keen knowledge of existent challenges and evil in the society which are capable of destroying the desired life craved by the young ones.
Dear Tochukwu
I hope this won’t come to you as a surprise. By the time you read this letter, I would be on my way to Lagos. I remember you telling me about your desire to see me through the university but now things aren’t getting better. Despite all odds, I just have to go.
I’ve weighed so many things, time and time again, especially what papa keeps saying, “let’s wait for tomorrow to come”. As you can see, tomorrow has refused to come. So, I’m going to meet tomorrow.
Never mind. I’ll take care of myself. The cow that has no tail, its chi drives flies off its tail. I sincerely am not sure when I’ll be back again. Please Tochukwu, I need you to take care of Mama Nnukwu. I couldn’t tell her about my leaving home. The tears she’d shed would be strong enough to make me change my mind.
A character in a novel I read told his friend he would not say goodbye because ‘goodbye” is for those who may never return from a long journey. Stay well brother mine.
Your sister
Ify
I’ve weighed so many things, time and time again, especially what papa keeps saying, “let’s wait for tomorrow to come”. As you can see, tomorrow has refused to come. So, I’m going to meet tomorrow.
Never mind. I’ll take care of myself. The cow that has no tail, its chi drives flies off its tail. I sincerely am not sure when I’ll be back again. Please Tochukwu, I need you to take care of Mama Nnukwu. I couldn’t tell her about my leaving home. The tears she’d shed would be strong enough to make me change my mind.
A character in a novel I read told his friend he would not say goodbye because ‘goodbye” is for those who may never return from a long journey. Stay well brother mine.
Your sister
Ify
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