Tag: Creative writing
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Boma
Boma doodled on the blank sheet of paper in front of him. He glanced left, then right, head still bowed as if engrossed in some paperwork. But it was all a façade. Deep down he knew, he was only fooling himself. He was illiterate. But he had suddenly been put in the spotlight and he…
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Respect everybody
The little things of yesterday Grow to become important The confusion of yesterday Clears, and wisdom grows In its placeIgnorance is not staticFools grow wise over timeThese tiny little plants That are indistinguishable From one anotherGrow into thick, giant treesA mighty forestDespise no oneDiscriminate against no oneUnderestimate no oneThere is no soul that has no…
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The Outcast (Page 33)
It looked as if that day will never come. But it did come, slow as it might have seemed to me. During difficult moments, the end of the tunnel can be very blur even when we are standing next to it. It was one cool Monday morning, April 20. I remember the date very well.…
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Sumaru and Jango
At night the two maids retired to their room. Daytime they were donkeys. Nighttime, they were masters of themselves in their own room, where they could fart and sleep naked as they pleased, and eat whatever they could sneak out and buy. Or, if they were broke, confine themselves to whatever their Madam served them.…
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Job interview
Akwele was in so many WhatsApp groups. Nothing sensible ever came out of any of them. Only stupid messages. The goal for creating some of the groups was to remain in touch as coursemates after school, and perhaps help one another whenever possible with notifications of job openings, chances to further one’s education and financial…
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How it all started
I cannot remember what day of the week it happened. All I remember was that I woke up that day with absolutely no idea how my day was going to turn out. I was in my room that morning, probably thinking of what to eat as breakfast.Then I had a call. It was Channel. A…
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The Outcast (Page 32)
I was young. Not only physically, but also mentally, and emotionally. A costly weakness. Diana was into me. I couldn’t see. I couldn’t read. Perhaps because she was about five years older than me, my little mind never interpreted what she did as love. I had no emotional intelligence to play along till my time…
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I ask myself
Sometimes I ask myselfIf the standards I setAre not too highWhy the troubleWaking earlyWorking hardTo get every agendaFor the day ticked? Why?When rivers are flowingNature is singingFriends are partyingAnd the world seems to be dancingAm I the odd one in the picture?I thoughtI reflectedAnd I realized what I missedBalanceWithout which the planetsFall apart
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Not my Africa!
It was at the reading room I first met him. I couldn’t help but stare. At the dreadlocks. Dirty, unusually bushy, on his tiny, skinny skull. He stood out. In his shabby clothes. A sharp contrast to the atmosphere of decency and order and respect in a room filled with serious students. I wondered what…
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Bull’s Testicle
Times were hard. It was the kind of difficulty that forced enemies to collaborate and thrive. My friend Desmond and his roommates frequently fought. But during tough times like these, no one had energy for quarrels. Initially, Desmond phoned his parents. They were tired of his constant complaints of not having money. “What happened to…
