Tag: fiction writing
-
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…
-
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…
-
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…
-
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…
-
The Outcast (Page 31)
One day I returned from school and discovered that we had a visitor. But this visitor was unlike the others we’ve seen so far. This guest seemed to be everywhere…in the kitchen, living room, even in the bedroom of the head of the house. Who could she be? Then I heard the teenager call her…
-
The Outcast (Page 30)
My new house was a relatively quiet one. The only mouth that spoke there was the head of the family. He speaks all the time and when everywhere was quiet, you knew he wasn’t around. It was a house of a man, his wife, a little boy (his nephew) and a teenager ( his niece).…
-
The Outcast (Page 29)
I still remember the first day I stepped into that house. It was a Sunday evening. We had finished taking supper and dad asked me to pack my belongings, he had spoken to an old friend and I could stay with his old friend to write my final exams. It would be just for a…
-
The last time we saw him
They said it wasn’t his time. That the accident abruptly ended his young life, and great dreams. They said the incident wasn’t normal. That was why the night he was proclaimed dead, no one could sleep in his house, as an invisible hand scattered bowls and plates in the kitchen, opened and closed doors in…
-
The Outcast (Page 28)
It wasn’t long before our luxurious life in the city started dwindling. It started with our driver. They said he had attitude. Or perhaps our parents couldn’t afford keeping him any longer. What does it matter? The dog wasn’t liked. Did it matter what bad name he was given or what river he going to…
-
The Outcast (Page 27)
On Monday, we started school. Our new driver drove us to school, but dad went with us to ensure that the teachers recognized us and allowed us into our various classrooms. Mom prepared some rice and beef stew. By now, we had new lunch boxes and she served us. We were to take the rice…
