Tag: Story
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The Outcast ( Page 5)
Tuesday morning. Time for school. After staying at home for some days, my fees were finally paid. My siblings were lucky, theirs had been paid before those who owed fees were dismissed from school. Now, a certain picture was taking shape in my mind. The more I thought about it, the more I realized it…
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The Outcast ( Page 4 )
Our hair was a little over two months, and even lice that had lived in the bushy hair for so long were growing weary of getting lost every now and then in the thickening thicket they once called home. We went to knock on the door of our parents’ room. Without answering, they knew it…
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Enigma
Her attitude towards me and the gift she gave me. An enigma. I was leaving the country. A rather embarrassing exit. Things hadn’t work out like I hoped. But life goes on. As I stood at the bus station, about leaving in a few minutes, I hugged her, said a few final words and got…
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The Outcast ( Page 3)
I was finally home. Without changing my uniform, I went straight to the TV. Thankfully, my parents were out. Serving myself a steamy plate of jollof rice and a glass of chilled Zonkom, a local drink mother had made the previous day, I sat down to enjoy my meal and the nollywood thriller on Metro…
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The Outcast ( Page 1)
“J’ai envie de t’adorer ! ” A piercing voice echoed through the chilly harmattan. “Ready, sing!” The prefect on duty conducted. Soon, a million croaking voices chanted madly. “Stop! Stop!…” One teacher interrupted, a couple of whips landing simultaneously on the backs of Tunde and Tijani who were disrupting proceedings at the morning assembly. We…
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A moving song
My next-door neighbor. She was humming. A moving song. Never heard her sing. I lay on my bed listening, wondering what trouble kept her awake this late night, singing to herself. Suddenly, something drummed against my roof. Rain! Without warning? I rushed out to take clothes off the line and in the process, bumped into…
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Fertile connections ?
To passers-by, this was luggage. To Awal, it was his destiny wrapped in a box, carried on his shoulder. What he once called homeland is now a stretch of empty hopes he’s given up chasing. Initially, when the idea of abandoning his shop first occured to him, he thought it was his impatience speaking to…
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Date
It was weird. The food, the music and her attire that evening. What was on her mind? There was something odd about her movements as she served the food. The food tasted nice. She didn’t use most of the spices on the market. Chemicals. And chemicals have become the bulk of what we eat these…
Diary of a Wanderer 