Army of Dogs (Flash Fiction?)

Ogunkunle finished his beans and corn pottage at the mama-put quickly, taking extra care not to allow oil stain his well-starched one good shirt. He strode past his fellow free readers association comrades, calling out greetings.

He heard the first shot as he made to climb an Okada he had hailed. The anger in him grew as each bullet registered its discharge in his ear.

“Not today!” came a scream from him, as the Okada man and other bystanders fled. The gatemen of the adjacent banks were locking the gates as fast as they could even as their attached policemen with drawn AK47s cowered behind anything that could shield them.

He saw two SUVs pull into the street and saw people run towards the end of the street. The anger he felt made him turn towards the on-rushing vehicles. He then blacked out.

They said he had stepped into the middle of the street and raised his hand at the vehicles bearing down on him and the cars stopped mid-speed. They said the armed robbers got down, angry at this interference and rained bullets from their guns on him. They said he raised his right hand ✋ at the bullets which all froze mid-air, as dogs of all breeds started gathering behind him. They said of the panicked manner the robbers fled on foot and how he used his left hand ✋ to command the army of dogs to chase after them.

He read what happened with a sigh at Ikota where he fled to from Ikorodu, after coming to consciousness in his bedroom some minutes after the incident. The third since he met the old man 👴 who told him Ogun, god of Iron has chosen him…


Waste of Sin

Waste of sin

“How many days are we going to spend on earth that we are wearing coat of iron?” Akin’s mother remarked.

“Exactly o Kemi. That was exactly what I said o, but you know me na, I’m just looking at them. By the time I show my own fire ehn, they will know that devil’s bean plant can’t be grasped with bare hands.”

“See Comfort, you will have to be more patient. It is good to be strong but many things can only be fought by waiting”.

Akin turned again on his bed as the words of his mother and her cousin’s discussion filtered into his room. He was terribly bored. His blackberry phone laid discarded with lack of data subscription by the book he was reading and had grown weary off. He should do data subscription but his pocket money had ran out and he has maxed out his credit facility with his mother. As he adjusted his pillow, he muttered another curse at the Federal Government and the Academic Staff Union of Universities for the union’s umpteenth strike action that has confined him to his house for four months on end. Continue reading “Waste of Sin”

Story for the gods 2: We need new gods

Kindly find Story for the gods 1 here:

Eledua entered the hall wearing his human-size humanoid form and wore his favourite travelling cloth comprising of jeans, a football jersey, a fez cap and a Nike shoe. As he strode unhurriedly to the podium, various gods who had changed to their god-sized shapes of 30 foot tall and over, due to the charged atmosphere of a moment earlier, were changing briskly into their human-size form, knowing the consequences of being big in his presence. Continue reading “Story for the gods 2: We need new gods”

@1manCabal: If He Could Remember Me (Short Story)

I stepped to the front of Alex Creppy house for the second time in the day. The first time was when I had resumed work in the morning. It would have been the third had I come out for lunch; but fate had pulled a trick on me. Earlier that morning, on my way to work, I had seen a woman beating up her son. She had slapped him hard, over and over again like someone trying to force a jammed cassette out of a player.

“Take it easy, madam!” I could not stand the abuse. “You don’t have to beat him that much, haba!” Then the woman told me how the boy had carelessly lost his lesson fee, slapping him with each word she spoke, against my protest. Continue reading “@1manCabal: If He Could Remember Me (Short Story)”

Story for the gods: The Ponmo Situation

In a galaxy far far away…

An emergency council meeting of the 401 Yoruba gods was in session. A grave situation was being deliberated on and as almost always, the messenger of the gods, Eshu, was at the centre of the problem.

Eshu, the characteristic mischief-maker, who always have a slight grin on his face as if sharing a personal joke with himself, was looking grave as he sat besides Ogun, the god of Iron and War. He eyed the exit beside his seat intermittently, wishing to be anywhere but there and would have sneaked out to join Amadioha and the other Igbo gods in the new yam festival party on their planet, Ulo, if not for Ogun’s magnetic powers that pressed him into his seat. Continue reading “Story for the gods: The Ponmo Situation”

Will you marry me?

“Will you marry me”? He asked as he got down on his knees, beaming his most devastating smile at her. Sade smiled and said “On one condition. You take a lie detector test and I will be the one to administer it”
His jaws dropped to the floor and he looked at her through a set of surprised eyes. “Sade, what do you mean? Do you mean you don’t trust me again ni? What kind of nonsense…”
“I used to trust you” She cut him short Continue reading “Will you marry me?”

President of ashes.

It was 3 am when Djimou first heard the noise. It started as a low rumble from the horizon, but built up gradually as the seconds ticked away. Soon, the noise was so much that his wife and three year old son woke up startled and cuddled up to him instinctively. He huddled them in a corner of the room farthest from the source of the noise as it grew exponentially in a direction towards them. The noise continued to grow as it moved close to them and then it engulfed them. In between the heavy palpitation of his heart and his mutterings of rote prayers, he eventually deciphered the noise of heavy duty engines of various vehicles. The vehicles passed his raffia home and continued on the beach towards the ocean. Continue reading “President of ashes.”

I will commit suicide






“I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself. A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough without ever having felt sorry for itself.” David Herbert Lawrence

“I see no changes, wake up this morning and I ask myself, is life worth living, should I blast myself…” Tupac Amaru Shakur

Ralph was ready. He’s been ready for a long while now but he had been waiting. For what: a saviour; a miracle; a blessing? He can’t say for sure but he was waiting to see if he can get one. Now, he feels he can never get it. So he was very ready. Continue reading “I will commit suicide”

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