Chideraa in Nigeria’s History 4


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Story Four: Chideraa in Post-Independence Era

Part One

Less than six years after independence, in January 1966, Nigeria experienced her fist ever military coup. It was spearheaded by Major Kaduna Nzeogwu. The coup, a forceful overthrow of the then civilian government of the country, had been inspired by blatant corrupt practices of the leaders. They meddled with electoral practices to get re-elected into political positions and made themselves wealthy on public funds – the very same things the white men did. Two of the founding fathers of Nigeria lost their lives in the bloody coup, Sir Tafawa Balewa, the Prime minister and Sir Ahmadu Bello, the Premier of the Northern region. Continue reading

The Bond Free Man


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Why does my heart love you,

And then wish it was independent of you?

Why does your will bring pain?

And then fulfilling it joy and gain?

Why does my strength fail,

And my hands grow pale

When I realise I’m far from you?

Why must I be close to you?

Are you for real? Sometimes I ask

Is believing in you such a great task?

I try to wish you did not exist

So I would be free from you at least

You should have just made me your servant

Or better still left me totally free from your command

But you have made me more than just a servant

And yet I must do all your bidding and command

I once was free and bond and damned

But now I’m free and bond but saved

You gave me life by taking my life

Now I have a life that isn’t mine

Picture Credit: https://ask.naij.com

Selective Amnesia


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‘Call me Lucy Drake, barrister Lucy Drake. It might sound a bit awkward that a male bears Lucy – take it or leave it! But don’t bother me. This is who I am and who I’ve always wanted to be…’ He panted repeatedly, his forehead wet with sweat. His heart couldn’t produce words any further, he dropped to the floor, pushed the stop button, recording stopped. He passed out.

Continue reading

The Shades of War – 5


EPISODE FIVE

‘Great one boys! You guys were awesome!’ Captain Achor hailed his boys as he walked a little distance away from their gathering to clear his head. He may have survived this attack and even turned it into victory for his team, but certainly there was a very big problem that gave him great concern. He had a traitor, a traitor amongst those his men that were celebrating. It seemed awkward. He had walked through every single soldier, stealing a glance on their faces but detected no facial expressions that he perceived as disappointment. He took regular roll calls so he was sure no soldier had sneaked out of camp and returned. It all had to be a crazy set up. Who would get involved in such a thing with Achor and wouldn’t be very crazy? The thought made him smile with some smugness. He was good, feared for being good at his job and his proficiency as a Captain was no longer news.

Continue reading

The Shades of War – 3


EPISODE THREE

Shades of war

‘The real men’, he sighed at his thoughtlessness in referring to them as ‘real men’. Could any of these men qualify for real men? They were all men without pride and honour. His rage heightened in his hiding place. He had zoomed through his hiding place in the speed of light and unnoticed, and in slow motion, stabbed all those ‘real men’ in their hearts one by one, switching the dagger from his right to left as he deemed fit, and twisting it with every stab to ensure every artery, vein or tissue were left disjointed and irredeemable. He stared with bloodshot at their wasted bodies lying in the pool of their own blood and was gratified. He opened his eyes and it had all happened in his head. Continue reading

The Shades of War – 2


EPISODE TWO

Shades of war

…He turned on the torchlight and held his breath as the rays flashed at the suspicious spot. The creature peeped behind a branch, exposing its ugly head.

‘Mtchew’ he hissed, it was only a chimp. Wait a minute; with some surprise he flashed the torchlight at the now airborne chimp. It was the mythical flying monkey, Akuke. His mother told him a lot of stories about Akuke as a young boy. It had flaps attached to its limbs like the bat and it could so jump it seemed it flew. Seeing the flying monkey to the people of Kuruma, meant good luck and they often celebrated it in anticipation of something good to come. Sometimes it took years, generations for the good thing to happen, and sometimes it happened so quickly. But the celebration of the good luck to come was usually done in high spirits. If one didn’t know, he would think the celebrant had hunted down an elephant. Achor hadn’t witnessed any of such celebrations, they rarely occurred anyway. His mother often told and retold him of the two she had witnessed, and described them so dramatically, with keen enthusiasm, he almost got offended. He couldn’t enjoy the sight of the mythical creature well enough before it disappeared, but he kept pondering over the creature as he walked on. Did he even see it? He must have been very drowsy and maybe was simply hallucinating, or maybe not. He never believed in myths. He had concluded everything was just a mere old woman’s tale told to young boys to fascinate their imagination, but he had seen one for himself today. He wished he could follow the Akuke and maybe trace it to its abode. That would clear his doubts completely and who knows? There could be a family of flying monkeys just within reach. But he had a mission at hand and should not be jeopardising it for any Akuke or any other thing. Continue reading

In the Mind of the Blind


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How beautiful are the walls on the street

So gigantic they extend to the heavens

Like guardian angels they guide my path

Some have skin rashes, others don’t, but they all stand tall alike.

 

How colourful are the winds of the evening

It blows over the earth and darkens the sky

Its tender whistling dispels the noisomeness of the day

And beckons humanity to embrace its gift of tranquillity.

 

How priceless is the light of the sun

It gives life to plant and sight to men

Without it, all men would be just like me

Then being me wouldn’t be special anymore.

 

‘Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder’; my hands behold

Colour, a matter of perception; my heart perceives

Price is measured in value; my purpose is of immeasurable value.

Sight could lose its attraction in the mind of the blind.

 

T. Masterpiece