Those Times I almost Died

I was eleven years old when I first had a close encounter with death, no thanks to a serious bout of malaria. It was the type that makes one hallucinate and see “witches” crawling on the ceilings. For many weeks on end, I was bed-ridden. I could hardly feel my body, even though I was constantly aware of the immense pain I was in. Everyone dear to me became scared that I might die. They cried by my bed and prayed all kinds of prayers. Mind you, I had no…

Meeting a familiar Stranger on a London Train

The train made a stop to drop off some passengers. And as they disembarked, I spotted among them a man that looked very familiar. He was Mr Orji, my former employer at a private secondary school in Lagos where I had taught for one year upon graduation from the university. My eyes trailed him as he walked from the back of the train to a seat closer to the exit where he sat.  The train soon began to move, all the while my gaze was focused on the man even as I very much tried to restrain the urge to walk over there and talk to him. I had lots of things to tell him. And telling him all those things right there on the train could only cause much embarrassment for the both of us.

The Unraveling Mysteries

First, I felt him constantly staring at me everywhere I went. And then I saw him in brief flashes, eyeballing me as I walked down the streets. He was everywhere- at the supermarket and at the library…

The Teacher with the big Breasts

In my new school, there was this young female teacher whom everybody loved to hate. I bet she was disliked mainly because she was a pretty woman. Tall, skinny, fair-skinned and big-breasted, she was the envy of the rest of the teachers who were mostly females. Perhaps it was the breasts that they hated the most. After all, those were the most visible part of the young teacher. Indeed, it was almost impossible to ignore those breasts; voluptuous as they were. I remember how my mates I fixated on them…

The Houseboys

Several hours after arriving at their new madam’s home, the twins got to explore the place. Mrs Ijioma’s was a three bedroom flat, located on the uppermost part of the building, and the nicest of course. It was the only flat with its own inbuilt kitchen, toilet and bathroom, and this was expected considering that this was the same flat the late Mr Ijioma lived in prior to his death. The woman had forcefully claimed the flat for her own, arguing that since she was her late husband’s first wife,…

How it all Began (Story)

I was young when it all happened; the incidents that changed my life. It was a chilly harmattan night in mid-December 1995 at a place called Igbere, and my mother was in our smoky kitchen cooking dinner with my sister Rose. My twin brother and I were lying side by side on the cold sandy ground beside my father’s old rocking chair, our gazes up in the starry night sky…