Tag Archives: nightmare

Blood on his hands

Ikenna ran after his elder brother and pulled the trigger. “Pa pa pa.” He shouted as he pumped the bullets into him.

Blood gushed out as the bullets hit Chidi in the head. Chidi slumped and the sight of blood shocked Ikenna.
He looked at the pistol in his hand and immediately flung it away. Even though he had seen blood gush out in the movies, he hadn’t expected to see the same happen right before him.

They had played this same game many times and blood had never gushed out of his elder brother. The gun they had played with was exactly the same as the one he held a moment ago but it had never caused a flow of blood.

Confused at what was going on, he began to cry. “Mummy, mummy.” He screamed.


Adaeze was jolted out of her sleep. She had taken a brief afternoon nap and had just had a bad dream. For some reasons, she felt something was amiss. She had no idea what it was but she knew she needed to get up and attend to her sons. She was heavily pregnant for her third child and the scan had shown that she was carrying a girl. She was happy as she had decided that after this, she was done with child bearing.

The birth of her sons; Ikenna and Chidi who were four and six respectively had been traumatizing for her. She had both of them through a caesarean operation and the doctor had advised her after the birth of Ikenna to give child bearing a wide berth. When she confided in the doctor that she wanted to have one more child and try for a girl, the doctor had wondered why. But she had been adamant and told the doctor; just one last time.

Her son’s scream echoed round the house and she immediately jumped up and ran up the stairs to see what was going on. As she entered into the room, the sight before her made her knees buckle and she went down.

“Mummy.” Ikenna ran to meet his mother and fell into her arms.

Adaeze looked at her younger son and burst into tears. She crawled to where Chidi lay in a pool of blood and pulled him close. She gave a cry of anguish as she hugged her son who lay still in her arms.

How many times had she warned Nnanna about keeping a loaded gun in his room? How many times had she pleaded with him to get rid of the gun? How many times had she told him to get a safe and lock up the deadly weapon if he had to keep it in his room? How many times? How many times?

As she cried out and held her first son’s still body, the only thing on her mind was hurt, regret and sorrow.

Photo Credit: http://www.veteranstoday.com


The Visit

“Crack”. The sound of shattering glass rent the air. The kids all stood still like they had been paused by a remote control and looked at each other’s faces. Different emotions washed over their little faces; fear, shock and regret.

“You caused it.” Eze, the oldest among them shouted as he pointed accusing fingers at Bode.

“It wasn’t me.” Bode screamed. “It was Ngozi’s turn to catch the ball.” He continued.

“How can it be my turn? Tola was supposed to catch the ball after you. He should have caught the ball.” Ngozi retorted.

“Why are you saying I should have caught the ball? Didn’t you ask me to leave the circle because I could not catch? Now, you want to blame it on me.” Tola cried.

“Let us run away. Mr. Alakori will not know who did it.” Eze said.

“But that will be unfair. My mummy said I should never be scared to own up if I commit a wrong.” Ngozi replied.

“Yes. I think we should go and apologize to him. We would tell him we are very sorry.” Bode said.

“Okay, Tola stay in front. You are the youngest. If he sees you, he may not be so angry.” Eze said as he dragged Tola by the shirt.

“Leave me alone.” Tola screamed. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Please Tola, follow us. Mr. Alakori may not be so upset if he sees you in front.” Ngozi pleaded.

“Pleaseeeeee.” Bode stresses; also lending his voice.

“Okay.” Tola agreed as he led the way to Mr. Alakori’s flat.


Mr. Alakori stared down at the boys before him. He wasn’t only angry that they broke the windscreen of his car, he was mad because they had the guts to come to his house to inform him about their offence.

He smiled as he asked them to come in. “We are okay here, sir. We just wanted to tell you we are very sorry.” Ngozi said as he held on to Tola, who was about stepping forward.

“Apology accepted but I still insist that you come in.”

“Let’s go in.” Eze said nudging the others.

“I want to go home.” Tola said as he held on to Ngozi’s hand.

“You are just a sissy. Leave!” Eze said shouting at him.

Tola burst into tears as Ngozi gives Eze an angry look.

Mr. Alakori walked back into his flat, leaving the door ajar.

Eze peeps inside then signals to Bode, who shakes his head and turns back to follow Ngozi and Tola.

Mr. Alakori is seated in front of the TV set watching a football match. Eze stands inside the living room taking the whole environment. He had never seen a house this beautiful. His parents lived in the slums on the other side of the street.

Mr. Alakori signals to him to sit down and as he does, he is passed a saucer with groundnuts in them.

Eze smiles as he collects the saucer. He scoops up some of the groundnuts and he is on the verge of throwing them into his mouth when they all turn into little maggots. He instinctively drops the saucer in his hands and shakes his right hand to throw away the groundnuts/maggots. Unfortunately, they have started burrowing into his skin.

He screams as he sees Mr. Alakori putting the maggots in his own saucer into his mouth. Mr. Alakori walks up to him and stretches his maggot-infested hand to touch his face. Another scream escapes his lips………”Eze, Eze, what’s wrong?” His mother asks as she places her hand on his face.


Photo Credit: http://www.trigger.photoshelter.com

Blind Pact – Chapter 2


Apologies for the radio silence.

The website went through a technical glitch but we are glad to be back.

Thanks for reading and following my stories.


The Davies’ residence stands alone on a close which ends in a cul-de-sac. Houses dot the close situated a few metres apart from each other. The house is a modest bungalow with a pent-house. After putting in over twenty years of service in the banking industry, Femi Davies could boast of a house of his own. Building the house had not come cheap as he had taken a ten-year mortgage loan from the bank he worked for; but it had been worth the pain. In two years, the house was built and he had gladly moved his young family in. It lacked beauty on the outside as he had left a few finishing undone. He had not been bothered as his family had an abundance of beauty on the inside and made it a home. Few years later, one step at a time, he beautified the surroundings and made it his dream home.

As the principal’s car drives into the close, Bola notices a number of people going in and out of her house. This is unusual and she becomes more worried. Her parents lived quietly and tried as much as possible to keep few friends. The driver parks in front of her house. She steps out of the car and says thank you to the principal who nods his response back. The atmosphere carries an impending doom. Bola tries to look for an answer to the situation in the principal’s face but he only signals towards her house with his head. She looks at the house and her environment with people thronging in and out. She wonders if this is the same house she has lived all her life.

She walks towards her house like one in a trance. She sees different faces; some known, some unknown. Her entrance is greeted by pitiful faces and mournful looks. One nudges the other and the faces all begin to pave way for her to go in. She enters the living room and sees her mother sitting on the floor. She is surrounded by two women; her best friend and her only sister. Bola takes in the environment as she looks round her as if looking for someone. Banke sees her daughter and is instinctively aware that her daughter already knows. She stands up to embrace her and they both burst into tears.

“What…what happened to Daddy?”

“I…we…your…your…daddy”. Banke struggles to mumble before the tears start flowing freely again.

“It’s okay, mum. It’s okay”. Bola says as she hugs her mum tightly. She knows whatever it is, they will pull through it.


“No, please don’t do it. Please, please. No, no, noooooo….” Banke screams and is jolted out of her sleep. She is sweating profusely.

Bola, who is lying on the bed beside her mother also wakes up with a start. She had been awakened by Banke’s scream. She sits up and looks at her mum in confusion. “Mum, what’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry I woke you up. I had a nightmare. Please go back to sleep”. She says to her daughter. She is still panting like someone who had been in a run.

“No mum. I need to know what happened to daddy”.

“Not this night, Bola. We both need to rest”. Banke pleaded.

“Mum, I have a right to know what happened to my father. And I want to know right now”. Bola asks stubbornly.

Banke sighs as the event of two nights ago flash back. “We arrived the country at about 5.00pm. We chartered a taxi at the airport. Since we had promised to check on you on our way home, the taxi was to take us first to your school, then take us home. The taxi had a flat tyre on the way and the driver asked that we get down so he could change the tyre to a spare one. As we got down, he suddenly brought out a gun and asked that we lie flat on the ground”. Tears roll down Banke’s cheeks.


Bola’s jaw drops.

“The driver spoke good English and we guessed he was learned. We begged him to take everything he wanted but spare our lives. He said he would do exactly that provided we co-operated with him. Meanwhile, we had not taken note of a car that was parked some metres ahead of us. The taxi driver whistled and the person in the other car reversed towards us. Both of them started offloading our luggage from the taxi into the other car. As they were about driving off, your father raised his head probably to get the plate number of the car they were driving away in”.

“Ah, why?” Bola exclaimed.

“I heard the driver’s voice asking in anger why your father had to raise his head and then……Banke holds her head. “A gun shot and your father screamed”. The tears are coming down in streams now and Banke struggles to continue her story. “The…the taxi and the other person drove off. They drove off and left me alone. I had no one to turn to. The…the road was deserted. I…I told your daddy to allow me call my sister to pick us from the airport. He…he…he refused. You know how your daddy would always say he does not want to inconvenience anyone. If…if…if…I had known”. Banke breaks down uncontrollably.

Bola moves closer to her mum and embraces her as they sob on each other’s shoulders.


The burial of Femi Davies is done quickly. Banke is not willing to prolong closure for herself and her daughter. She is supported by her sister and her best friend and a few of her colleagues at work. Her neighbours also make themselves available and Femi Davies is laid to earth. A few of his colleagues promise heaven and earth. Bola’s education will not suffer. They would ensure she is well taken care of. Her university education will be outside the country; because that is what Femi would have wanted. Her education would be sponsored to Master’s level. A job awaits her once she is through with her university education. Promises! Promises! Promises! But Banke knew better. Promises were easy to make; talk is cheap. Fulfilling them came with responsibilities.

Twenty years ago, she had met Femi Davies when she went to drop her resume at the bank he worked for. He had just been retained at the bank after his National Youth Service. He was sitting behind the customer service counter when she walked up to him. It had not been love at first sight and nothing had struck to give them lasting impressions. She had also just finished her Youth Service as a secondary school teacher. She had enjoyed the job but it was not financially rewarding. She had therefore dusted her Economics certificate and headed to various banks dropping them at their customer service desks. She also checked the dailies for job openings and applied for them with an expectant heart.

She got responses from some inviting her for tests. She had passed each one of them. Her joy was however short-lived during her interview sessions. They were either looking for experienced hands or someone with a second degree. How am I supposed to be experienced if I am not given a chance? How can I afford a second degree if I do not have a job? Her parents had done enough by sending her to the university. They were traders in palm oil and foodstuffs and she was not ready to impose additional responsibilities on them. Her younger sister who was ten years younger was about securing admission into the secondary school. They had enough on their plate already.

She had waited quietly in queue until it was her turn to go to the customer service desk. She smiled as Femi asked, “Good afternoon madam, how may I be of help to you today?”

“Good afternoon, I just wanted to drop my CV here”. She said as she leaned forward on the desk and spoke in a whisper.

Femi smiled. He was lucky to have been retained by the bank. A lot of his friends still roamed the streets with their CVs just like the lady sitting before him. Some of them had handed their CVs to him as well, while a few people still walked in just liked she was doing. He knew he had every reason to be thankful to God. “Okay, madam”. He said stretching out his hand to collect the single piece of paper from her.

“Thank you”. Banke said as she handed the CV to him.

Three months later, she received letters from two different banks asking her to write an employment test. One of the banks had been the bank Femi worked for. The interview sessions had also gone smoothly and both banks were willing to offer her a placement as a bank teller. She became confused on which to pick.

One day, on her way to the market, as she alighted at the bus-stop, she found herself standing face to face with Femi. “Hi. How are you doing?” Femi asked smiling.

Banke was at a loss. “I’m sorry. Have we met before?” She asked confused.

“Of course. Ain’t you Banke? You dropped your CV with me at Alájeséku bank a while ago”.

“Oh, I am so sorry. I am not good at faces”.

“It’s fine”. Femi says smiling. “Have you heard from them yet?”

“Oh yes. I have even been given an offer but I am yet to accept”.

Femi is surprised. “Why? I thought you really needed a job”.

“Yes, I do. I have offers from two banks”.

“Right! So you are confused, I guess”.

“Exactly. The take-home for both banks are about the same. Also I was offered the same position in both banks. So I am trying to look at other benefits and pick the one with better options. I am meant to get back to both banks with my acceptance or rejection next week”.

Femi smiles as he looks at her. “A brilliant idea”. He says.

Banke nods.

“So have you checked out all those benefits now and considered them?”

“I just did earlier on today”.

“And your final answer is….?” Femi asks raising a brow.

Banke laughs as she sees his expression. “I picked your bank”.

“Nice. So I get to see you every day”.

“Yes stranger”.

“My bad. My name is Femi Davies”. He stretches his hand.

She takes it and responds. “It’s a pleasure meeting you again”.


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