Dora to the world🌏

Harmattan in August(episode three)

I thought it will end here, life does it wonders.There had been so many reasons in the past that could have made me collect the keys to my house for Adenrele, but I knew it would be too mean of me to do that. He was excellently good at invading my privacy. I hated the fact that he had the bad habit of barging into my room and the house, he never knocked. I was in my room dressing when he suddenly barged into my room. Thanks to his always busy mouth {he was always singing} that alerted me. Thanks to my swiftness also, if not, I wouldn’t have been able to get a hold of the towel before he barged in.
I had another problem with him because he was always oblivion of what boundaries are. He never took permission from me before doing some things, neither did he respect me before taking some actions. There was a particular day I got home to find Adenrele and a girl making out on the couch…I mean, our parents could have done better. I wanted to deny him access to my apartment since that day, but our parents claimed that it would be way better if he stayed with me. He also claimed he would most times get back from school before I get back from work. I later took into consideration some factors so I forgave him.
Now, he did it again. Instead of knocking before he came in, he barged into the room. This time around, I was the one feeling guilty. I was also ashamed and mortified. “Would he ever respect me again?” I thought to myself. My expected reaction from him was that he would scold me or insult me. I expected him to say that he was ashamed of me. Denrele tore my script and wrote a new story. He laughed. He laughed. He laughed out loud. He laughed. I rolled my eye unnoticeably to look at the ghost’s reaction, he was laughing too. I suddenly became a fool. I kissed someone that no one would see, and then it looked like I was kissing myself.
“Well done o auntie. Na so you miss Uncle Richard reach,” Adenrele said mockingly.
“Get out!!!!” I yelled. I was really annoyed. Maybe if he had acted disappointed I would be the one begging him. He was amazed by my reaction, I could tell it through his vague expression. Immediately, he made way for the door.
I looked to my side to realize the ghost was still there. Instead of feeling bad that I kissed a ghost, I craved more. His aura just felt so good, In fact, I could say I never felt that good around anyone else before. To me, our love was growing again. I no longer saw a ghost, I saw my childhood love. Funny. It’s always funny to me when my other friends ask who my first love was. How could I possibly confess that he was my friend’s dad?
“For how long will you be here,” I hushed the words, so that Denrele would not hear me talking.
“Aren’t you afraid to know?” he smirked.
“Why should I be?”
“Woah….it seems everything goes just the way you want them to,” he snared.
“What do you mean?”
“What if I tell you I’ll be here forever?”
“Let that remain on a what if ground.”
“Let’s hope it does,” he said as he watched people go on with their daily activities through the blinds. Does he miss being human? Why isn’t he resting like the other ghosts? That scenario gave me a lot of questions, but I don’t think he would ever answer me. Since he responded to my last response, his eyes had been blazing with fire. I could smell annoyance and anger. I wanted to move closer to him, hug him from behind and feel his heartless chest, sooth him and beg him for antagonizing him. Thanks to Denrele, he disrupted my plan with his knock.
“argghhh!! Come in,” I screamed. He quietly tip toed to me like he was actually running away from me. That is what he did whenever he got home late from clubs, parties or any other place he went to.
“Ehn ehn…what are you doing here? “I aggressively asked him.
“Were you on a call earlier?” he asked.
“Why did you ask?”
“I heard you speaking to someone in hushed tones. Was it dad? Do you wanna report me for barging into your room? I didn’t want to answer that question, I was really scared of blabbing whilst trying to explain myself so I took the only escape route. Anger. I yelled at him to get out, and he actually did like I expected him to. That saved me. I was in a confused state once again. The ghost was nowhere to be found. I was left alone to deal with my ordeal. For once, I had to accept that I did wrong by kissing the ghost. I shouldn’t have, I should have controlled my emotions or whatever infatuation that controlled me. I was infatuated by a ghost!!!! Unbelievable.
I remember the first time he kissed me. I was just fourteen then. I had to gone to visit Peju. On arrival at her house, I was told that Peju and her mum had gone to the market to get some groceries. Mr. Bello somehow managed to make me wait for peju. I had earlier decided that I would be back some other time. He gave me a glass of orange juice and pringles to munch. He then asked if I knew how to play draft. That, I was really good at.
“I’ll beat your hands down at it,” I smiled. “Let’s find out then.”
That was the first time I talked with him. In fact it was the first time I saw him. Peju told me that her dad was the busy type and was rarely at home. True to her words, I never met Mr. Bello at home whenever I went visiting. I was actually surprised when he was the only person I met at home.
“Hey beautiful, you’re really good at this,” he commented. He made me win thrice and I knew it. Probably because he wanted me to feel good, and yes I did feel good with him. I didn’t reply to his comment, all I did was to smile. An hour passed, peju and her mum were still not back. I was truly enjoying Mr. Bello’s company but I was feeling awkward. He was really making some unnecessary moves. First. He was caressing my laps. Then, his fingers were gradually making their way into the tiny path to purity.
“sir!! Stop,” I angrily slapped his hand away from my body. “Are you offended? I’m sorry dear.” He was really good at it. He was about to assault me, yet, he looked so innocent and harmless. I didn’t know how he did, all I knew was that he ended up kissing me. It was after he kissed me, that I knew he kissed me. I wanted to run away, he drew me back.
“Come on…it’s nothing. I know you love me too. Nobody has to know. Why? Because we won’t tell anyone. I’ll have your contact number now. I’ll send you a location whenever we need to meet,” Mr. Bello whispered into my ears. I didn’t know why he had to whisper, but he whispering made my agree to whatever it was that meant.
From that day onward, our secret affair blossomed. It became a game of hide and hide. We were sure not hoping that someone was seeking us. I was infatuated, I wanted to see me every time. Whenever he was away working, I lose my morale and sometimes get sick. I thought to myself, “I’m in love.” He promised not to deflower, because I requested. He only took care of me and sometimes we kissed.
The last day I saw him, he invited me over to his house. I didn’t want to oblige because of my friend and her mum. He told me that his wife and children had travelled. He claimed I was free to come over. I was really scared to go visit him at home, but I did anyways. Just like I expected, he wanted more than I expected. In his words, he wanted to show me love. Truly, I was in love with him. I just didn’t sign up for sex yet. What would happen if I got pregnant? He wouldn’t stop, even after I budged. I got a hold of a flower vase on the table. I hit him on the head, I rushed out, leaving him unconscious. I didn’t look back to check if he was good, I just ran home.
The following Monday, I was expecting Peju at school. I was waiting for her to come tell me that her dad was at the hospital, or something like that. When I didn’t see her on that day, I assumed they weren’t back from the journey, or she had to stay with her dad. When weeks passed and I didn’t see her at school, I was really bothered. I was scared of the unknown, so I didn’t go to her house to check on her. Curiousity later got the best of me, I went to her place. I was then told that they moved out. I was really bothered. I wanted to know what happened to Mr. Bello. As much as I didn’t allow him to abuse me, I loved him still.
Peju’s call really broke my heart. I could not face the fact that Mr. bello was dead. I was also disturbed by Peju’s version of the story. Till this day, I couldn’t unravel the mystery behind that story. Was it Mrs. Bello that killed Mr. bello or myself? I still don’t know.
………………………………………………………………………………………………..
I was in my bedroom looking at the ghost when I got a call. I was really surprised by the ghost’s countenance. He had changed. He was not the sweet and handsome ghost I killed. He looked at me with disgust, he looked like he wanted revenge. it was Kate that called.
“Why did you resign?” kate yelled.
“Me? Resign? I’ve not been at work today,” I explained, confused.
“Yeah, but we got your email. And you weren’t exactly nice. You insulted almost everyone in the mail. You even called the chairman a man-whore. Yes, you spilled the one secret I thought would be safe with you. Now, the world knows,” kate yelled, whilst crying. I was confused, I didn’t send any mail. I was about bursting into tears, when I felt a touch on my shoulder.
It was the ghost. “Karma is a bitch. 1-1,” he whispered.
“What have I done to my self,” I cried. Before I could say anything to him, he was gone.

OMÓYE

I’ll write the meaning of the Yoruba words or sentences in brackets, I may also use other parenthesis. Do enjoy omóye, do not forget to like, drop reviews, comment and share when you’re done. Let me give a hint, it’s not about building self-love. And wait to know who Omóye is. Just relax, and find out what it’s truly about.

Omóye (sometimes in the 1880s)
“Olori (queen), do you think I’m a beautiful princess?”Seven-year-old princess Ewaade asked intensely.
“A princess does not ask such questions, my child. Being a princess is enough beauty,” Olori said.
“Some don’t even want to believe you’re my mother. They all claim I look nothing like you. Are you being truthful mother? Or you’re saying this to flatter me? ”Ewaade asked.
“Your name means ‘beauty of crown’ my daughter. You’re undoubtedly a beauty. Look at me, do not ever for once feel less of a princess because of whatever it is that you think you look like,” Olori said, looking straight into Ewaade’s eye.
“But mother, boys don’t like playing with me at the playground. They all want to play with Abefe,” she said, sadness peeking through her voice.
“Do not bother, princess. When the time comes, the right prince will come for you…not some boys from a regular lineage. You’re a royal, and you must marry to a royal,”Olori explained.
“kabiyesi is married to you only because you’re so beautiful Olori. Will the prince not marry another woman if he’s not satisfied with my beauty?”Ewaaade asked.
“There’s a lot you don’t understand omo oba(princess). When you know too much about each other, it’s never easy to include a third party,” Olori said as she immediately stood to take an exit.

The white men had recently visited Ilarun village too. Just like in most other villages, they had offered the monarchs gifts in return for properties, such as a land. King Adewale got a lot of gifts from the white men too. He was offered a mirror and some other things for a ‘particular’ piece of land in the village. He innocently signed a deal to be extorted of a land rich of gold. If only he knew the intrinsic value of the land…
When Ewaade initially saw the mirror, she was really frightened. She almost broke it, but with the help of the guards around her, the mirror was saved. True enough she had seen a dull reflection of herself by looking into stilled water, the mirror just made it too lucid. Adesewa looked at herself in the mirror and she was disturbed. She wondered if she was beautiful enough as a princess. To stop beating about the bush, she simply didn’t like what she saw.
She remembered the conversation she had with the queen when she was much younger. All she remembered from it was, “do not ever feel less of a princess because of whatever it is you think you look like.” She never forgot those words, but she never for once believed them. Abefe still got more attention from the lads in the village more than she did. She was the princess, Abefe was just the daughter of a chief. Typically, Ewaade was supposed to attract more attentions, it just never happened.
Abefe was Princess Ewaade’s only friend. Yorubas do say, egbé eye l’eye n woto(birds of a feather flock together). They were both living up to that adage. Ewaade could only be friends with Abefe because she was a royal. At least, the daughter of a chief could be considered a royal. As they were both going to the market to get some new clothes, Abefe got everyone looking at her. The guards that were supposed to be watching over Princess Ewaade were also ogling Abefe. Just like her name, every lad in the village was begging her to be theirs. When Abefe noticed the fling of jealousy in Ewaade’s look, she offered her some agbayun(miracle fruit) to perk her up.
“Have some Agbayun, princess,” Abefe offered.
“Do you want me dead? Have you forgotten it’s a taboo for any princess in this land to take the miracle fruit? Even a common man that has entered the sacred cave must not take it.”Ewaade said with a frown on her face.
“I’m sorry princess. I didn’t know anything of such, ”Abefe remorsefully said.
She was in a pain. She was in agony. She was pale, dirty and unkempt. She was just surviving. She was in a prison. She was calling out for help. She was pregnant.
Ewaade had the usual dream again. The dream was about a woman, who looked like she was a slave. The woman was heavily pregnant, and she was in a prison, she was in agony. Whenever Ewaade had that dream, she would wake up feeling pangs go down her body. It was almost as if she was feeling the pains of the woman in the dream. That was the umpteenth time she would dream of the pregnant slave, it just felt different this time.
Immediately it was dawn, she rushed down to Olori’s room before she would go to the river to have her bath. She was really terrified by the dream, so she needed someone to tell about the dream.
“Olori, what do you think of the dream?” she asked curiously. For some moments, she had felt like Olori was like a saviour who had answers to all her questions, and solutions to all her problems. She was really surprised when Olori was dumbfounded when she told her the dream. She expected Olori to advise her or soothe her, instead she was only concerned about what the woman looked like.
“Was the woman in question dark?” Olori asked.
“Yes, she’s a dark woman. Her dark skin just wasn’t beautiful like Abefe’s.”
“was she beautiful and tall?”
“Olori, she looked like she’s suffering. That makes it difficult to tell if she’s beautiful if she’s beautiful. But she looks like she would be a beautiful person if she was taken care of. About being tall, she is absolutely tall,” she paused, with a bit of surprise in her eyes, “why do you have a perfect description of her Olori? Do you have the same dreams?”
“No, princess. I was just imagining things. It’s nothing princess, do not bother yourself with this. Àlá go (dreams are stupid)” Olori said coherently, almost like it was pre-recorded.
“But I…I feel her p…pains mother,” Ewaade stuttered in between tears.
“It’s nothing princess. You should go take your bath now.” Olori immediately left the scene with her guards. Ewaade wanted to reply, she just didn’t give her a chance to do.
Depression is truly real, even in the 18s. Ewaade fell into a really great depression after going through series of demeaning and condescending looks and words from the villagers. Inferiority complex was choking royalty, a supposed first class citizen. They called her names, they said her look was not princess-worthy. She stopped going out, except when she had to go to the river to bath. He would call on the maid-servants, whenever she needed to get anything. She even forbade Abefe from visiting her. Royalty had low self esteem- ironical.
Ajiun was her favourite maid-servant in the palace. It was so because she grew up knowing Ajiun, Ajiun was even there when she was given birth too. Ajiun raised and watched over her as a child. She was the oldest maid that was in the palace, so she felt like she was talking with her mother whenever she was down. When she was going through her greatest phase of depression, Ajiun was the only person she talked too.
“it’s easy Princess. You can be as beautiful as you want. Just promise me that you’ll take the beauty concoction when I give you to you,” Ajiun beseeched.
“There’s nothing I can’t do to be a beauty Ajiun, just give it to me,” Ewaade answered desperately.
“where are your servants? I hope they’re not close.”
“don’t be worried about those, I already sent them on errands,” she said, smiled.
The concoction had a sour-sweet taste. Ewaade tried to point out the ingredients that were used in making it but she could not. All she wanted was beauty, whatever ingredient was used, it just had to work. She slept on that particular day with the hope that before she woke the following day, she would look just like her name- beauty. What happened wasn’t what she expected at all. She woke up ill. The moment she woke, she went to vomit. Her personal maid went to report to the queen that Ewaade was sick. The queen beckoned on the village doctor to come check the princess.
Ewaade really hoped it wasn’t what she thought. She hoped that the nurse had something else to say. Else, her life was over.
After doing a check up on Ewaade, the doctor concluded that Ewaade was pregnant. Ewaade was already crying, Olori was disappointed. The king was not aware of what happened yet. Olori felt like hitting Ewaade, but pity took the best of her. Ewaade looked too sick to be punished in addition.
“How did it happen?” Olori yelled.
“I don’t know how it happened Olori,” Ewaade said whilst crying.
“are you a child? what have you done? No prince would want to marry you, knowing fully that you are empty and useless.”
“I’m sorry Olori. I didn’t mean for this to happen Olori.”
“who got you pregn…” Olori made a pause when Ajiun enetered Ewaade’s room. She would have stopped talking if it was some other slave, but it was Ajiun. It was Ajiun, they shared a story. “who got you pregnant you worthless whore?”
“I’ve failed you Olori. It…it..was some weeks ago. Ishola, one of the ilaris(king messenger),saw me when I was crying behind the palace. I ordered him to leave, but he said he wanted to know what mad a beauty like me cry. He said some really good words to me, that was how our love affair started,” Ewaade said as she cried, cried and cried.
“You had an affair with a messenger? You are a disappointment to the crown, to royalty, Olori yelled even more. “When you get better, I do not want to see you in the palace any longer.”
“She shouldn’t be blamed my Queen. Blood is thicker than water. It’s in her blood,” Ajiun commented. Ewaade expected Olori to shout at Ajiun but she didn’t. she only gave her a long stare, then walked out.
Weeks passed by, Ewaade was still ill. It turned out even worse. Her skin was peeling off, her stomach was bloating way too fast to be pregnancy. Her ribs were all out, then she hated to see the mirror gift the palace got. The king ordered that she should not leave the palace, unlike the queen. He only said no one apart from Olori, the doctor and Ajiun must know about the pregnant Princess. The other slaves were lied to that Ewaade was just sick. It wasn’t exactly a lie, she was sick. When Ewaade didn’t get better, baba ifa(ifa consultant) was called on.
“ The princess ate the forbidden fruit. Didn’t you?” he asked, facing Ewaade.
“tr….trust…m…me….mother. I…..i….i…did not take the forbidden fruit,” she voiced out with pain.
“hawu, ifa never lies omo oba,” baba ifa said. No one attempted to question Ewaade, they all wanted a way out.
“ i…can..can remember. There was Agbayun peels on the floor when Ajiun gave me the concoction,” Ewaade said.
“what concoction,” Olori questioned. Ewaade knew it was stupid to have believed that a concoction would actually make her beautiful. There was nowhere to hide now, she had to confess.
“she gave it to me so that I may become a beauty.”
“dumb,” the king said. “what’s to be done now baba?”
“Olori would have to carry a sacrifice for her being the biological mother. Has the princess entered the sacred room before?”
“yes, there was a time she got ill. We had to take her in there to be sanctified.”
“your highness I would love to see you. Why not tell me whatever you have to say here?”
“it can not be said here your highness.”
“just say it!!” the king commanded.
“ whoever carries this sacrifice will eventually die.”
“ehn…..i cant carry it, kabiyesi,” Olori exclaimed.
Ewaade was really surprised that her mother was not willing to sacrifice her life for her to survive. she felt a sting of betrayal. If it had been any other person, she would not be surprised. She was her mother.
“I’m not your mother princess Ewaade. It was the pregnant slave in your dream….omoye,” Olori said.
“Omoye? Who is Omoye?”

Some years back, Ilarun village fought with another village and won. They won her land, people and Omoye. Omoye was the prettiest of all the new slaves Oba adeolu got .she was her mother’s only child. her mother was for many years called a barren before she had Omoyeni-everyone deserves a child. she had a perfectly sculptured body, she was a masterpiece. When Ilarun village won, both omoye and her mum were made slaves at the palace.
It happened that Queen adejoke could not conceive. The villagers called her a barren. The chiefs were also planning to get the king a new wife. olori could not take it, she knew her jealousy could lead to blood loss. Therefore, she made a plan with the king. She advised that the king should forcefully have an intercourse with one of the young slaves. She would just act like she was pregnant too when the girl conceives. When the girl gives birth, they would take the child as theirs.
“what if she talks?” the king asked.
“don’t worry about that. We’ll make her take an oath,’ she said and smiled satisfactorily at her brilliant plan. “I would want you to choose Omoye. She should be a virgin, and with a beauty like hers, we’ll have a beautiful princess. Then, we’ll tell the people that she died during child birth. We’ll put her in the extinct prison in the palace. You’ll keep impregnating her then we take the children.”
“But her mother is here, she’ll tell her,” the king said.
“ Are you referring to Ajiun? we can do something about that. She’ll take an oath with us also.” When you know too much about each other, it’s never easy to involve a third party.
It was late in the night, the king told one of the ilari to call on Omoye. She hurriedly rushed to the king, without even looking back at Atanda. She was so eager to hear what the king had to tell her. She yearned for freedom again. In her mind, she thought it was a call to freedom
“sit down by my side, Omoye,” oba Adeolu said.
“let me stand, my king. I’m not worthy to sit beside a royalty like you,” she said with her head bowed.
“No one is here to tell the world. Sit beside me.” She accepted to sit beside him. He told her a lot of things she would love to hear. He promised her freedom, he told her she would become a queen if she conceived. Omoye totally disagreed. She said her mother would not allow her to marry him or even give birth to his children.
“if you’ll not give me what I want willingly, then I’ll get it forcefully.” He forcefully had sex with her, with the expectation that Omoye was a virgin. Sometimes, things do not end up the way I planned.
“How is it that you’re not pure? Who deflowered you?” he asked. He was really sad. he wanted to eat on a clean plate, he got a dirty one.
“My lover. That was why I rejected your offer. Atanda and I have been having an affair since I came here,” she said whilst crying. If she told the other maids that the king forcefully slept with her, they would probably be very happy. She was really sad.
“I want you out of here.” She hurriedly put her clothes on, ran out with tears in her eyes. Weeks passed she had still not gotten over what happened. Just like the queen planned, they made her and her mother take an oath. That really made it worse, she could not open up to anyone about what happened. Isó inú èkú à fi móra ni(such secrets are meant to be kept forever).
As expected, omoye conceived. The queen started acting like she was pregnant too. People thought it was coincidence, only they knew it was made up. Omoye took up the courage to confront the queen and the king one of those days.
“the baby is not for kabiyesi. It’s for atanda. Only a mother can tell the father of the child, that’s what I’m doing now. Atanda is the father of my child,” she said.
“that’s what you both believe. All we know is that, the child in you is ours…”
“you will……” she was about saying another word when her water broke. They beckoned on the midwife. When the child came into the world, the queen immediately took the child away from Omoye. When it was midnight, the queen acted like she ran into labour all by herself, and gave birth without help. There was a lot of hiccups in the story, but people had to believe any way.
They locked omoye in a dark prison in the palace, so they lied to the people that Omoye died during child birth. Atanda confronted the king, he claimed that the child the queen called hers looked like him. When they found out he was becoming a threat, they lied to the people that he planned to rape the queen. Therefore, he was sentenced to death.
Unlike what they imagined, omoye never conceived after that first time. The king used all he could, but nothing happened. When they found out she was no longer useful, they just fed her and left her in the prison. The king could not marry a second wife because he knew the queen had too much of his secrets. They were stuck together. Omoye was locked in the prison, never to see the light of day ever.
“I didn’t know Omoye may die if she carried the sacrifice. I just wanted my daughter back, that was why I gave Ewaade the forbidden fruits. I knew omoye may be needed to help,” Ajiun explained.
“omoye is alive?” baba ifa asked. “and how’s she related to all of this?”
“let us face the necessary now baba. Omoye will carry the sacrifice.”
King Adeolu, Olori and Ajiun rushed down to the prison where Omoye was. they were all so desperate to save Ewaade. On getting there, they were welcomed with a very foul odour. Omoye was lying there on the floor, decayed. She died in a kneeling position. It looked as if she was begging the gods to save her. She died begging.
“when was the last time you fed her Olori?” the king questioned angrily.
“i…i…cant remember,” she sluggishly said.
It was too late. Omóye tí já ojà, aso kò bá omóye mó. Before they got back to the palace, Ewaade was dead too. It was a sad experience. The people wailed, cried. The only princess was dead, the supposed heir. When Ajiun couldn’t take all that happened, she killed herself too. Yes, she died with King Adeolu’s and Queen Ajoke’s Secrets. “May her spirit taunt you in the remaining days of your life,” ajiun said as she breathe her last.
Omoye
Three generations gone
To devil’s arms
This is the story of a lady
Who was born not to be shady,
But was murdered by the shady.
Her blood is on you
I pray she haunts you
I pray she takes your sanity
I hope you’ll feel what she felt
She deserves to serve a child
Not your shady hands
OMÓYE.

She yearned for freedom all her life, you made sure, she spent her life in bondage.
Her beauty was meant to be
Till eternity, never to diminish
But you took it with your shady hands,
Now, her beauty and her perished.
OMÓYE

I hope you like it, comment, like and share with your friends😘😘😘. I’m planning on writing another story with this exact title, “omoye”. Just another storyline. Will you read? Yeah, suggest the setting and the kind of character you would want her to be. Thanks

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Listen to the most recent episode of my podcast: Bad communication habits https://anchor.fm/dora88/episodes/Bad-communication-habits-elguus

Who killed ms lawson

WHO KILLED MS. LAWSON

I was shaken when I saw the two policemen dragging Collins into their van. It was heart-breaking, it was sad…really sad. I was shaken not only because my best friend was being arrested for murder, but because I just witnessed a murder. I knew how it happened, when it happened and why it happened. I had always been in the story, I knew it all. And that saddened me more. I could pretend to feel Collins’ pain, it would never be the same. The whole school was in a hullaballoo. Words spread like wide fire, they say. Those words spread too- “Collins killed Ms. Lawson.”
I felt guilt go down my spine. My bones were numb, I was feeling sick in my mind. Why did I call on someone when I saw all that happened? And what hurt more was that I knew he didn’t do it. I knew who did it. I felt really bad when he looked me in the eyes as they dragged him away. He was probably searching to find a look that cried out betrayal. I just knew I would rather save the identity of the killer than save Collins’ identity. The report I wrote was what I wanted them to believe.
Insomnia didn’t wait to get an invite, it strolled in confidently. All night I was troubled. Troubled by the possible outcome of my act. Troubled by the undeserving pain that would be inflicted on Collins. I was troubled. I was looking for a way out, I didn’t want my name tainted. What if they believed the story Collins told them? What would be my fate? I was sure not ready to face the repercussion of betrayal.
When I got to school the following Monday, all eyes were on me. I lost my charisma and swag to all the eyes that were on me. Some eyes looked like they were blaming me for snitching, some looked at me with pity. Murmurs and whispers rose to the peak as I took the hallway down to my class. I almost hoped that the ground could swallow me. Bimbo, the lousy girl, was the first person I met as I wanted to enter the class. I made a signal for her to make way for me, I knew she wouldn’t.
“But wait o. I thought Ms Lawson and Collins were very close, shu? I no go believe say na him go kill am o. e dey funny sha,” she laughed as she finished off. She laughed incessantly as she clumsily swaggered away. She was really lucky I could control my anger, the legion of demons would not be able to stop me if I wanted to exert my anger on her. chioma immediately came to meet me when I entered the class. Like on every other day, she looked even more beautiful. Tell me, why wouldn’t you risk a life for such a beauty? I wouldn’t want to say I was obsessed with her, I just could not stand any other guy around her. chioma was not such to be shared with any other person.
“I hope you’re good baby. You look really lost in yourself,” she said with concern. I could see the tears that was already deposited in her eyes. I wasn’t expecting that reaction, I thought she was going to ignore and break up with me. She was beautiful all in all, even in the heart. She was jittery, her voice was shaky too. That weight was too much for her to hold. I used my handkerchief to help her clean it off, she deserved not to cry.
“Don’t worry chi, he’ll be fine,” I whispered.
“Who?”
“Not just me. Collins should be fine too,” I said
“Just know that you should not blame yourself for all that happened. You did the right thing. And please. Stop referring to yourself as a third person” she forced a smile and she immediately ran out of the class.
“You just referred to me as a third person also, “I smiled, she had that effect on me. I always manage to smile when she’s around.
Keji and Aishat were also talking about me, right in my presence. There was nothing I could do, they didn’t force me to know about the murder. Keji was sort of an introvert so she didn’t know much about anything that was happening in the school. All she cared about was mathematics and physics. Sounds like nice choices.
“Henry looks really down,” aishat commented, with her full attention on me.
“What’s wrong with who,” keji commented. I couldn’t cope listening to them any longer, so I just walked out of the class to wait for the bell to ring for morning assembly.
Two weeks passed, Collins still wasn’t back. There was no possible way he could vindicate himself, the murder weapon was found in his hand. Two months passed, Collins still wasn’t back. He had faced trial, yet, his story was not believed. His fingerprint was all over the crime scene, the murder weapon was in his hand. What made the case worse was the fact that he couldn’t afford a good lawyer. He was an orphan, and his orphanage home wasn’t such a big one. The lawyer that was provided for him was still struggling to learn how to make the opening statement. Pathetic!!
It was supposed to be his last trial, and I would be called in as a witness. After all, I was the one who went to report what I saw that Saturday evening to the hostel master. After pledging to say nothing but the truth, the prosecutor started his interrogation (if that’s what it’s called).
“What’s your name?” the lawyer asked.
“My name is Adewole Henry Oladokun,” I responded, trying to hide the fidgety in my voice.
“how are you to the suspect?” he asked.
Before I answered that question, I looked at Collins where he was standing as if to ask if I could call him my best friend. “He’s my best friend,” I said then swallowed hard.
“that must mean you’re really close,” he asked. I didn’t bother to say a word, I just nodded.
“what happened on 24th March 2021?”
“I jumped the school fence to go meet Collins, who had earlier gone to meet Ms Lawson. Upon getting there, I found Collins stabbing Ms Lawson,” I said as I closed my eyes. I looked at Collins, he was crying profusely. I’m sure he thought I would be there to vindicate him, I guess he thought I would say the truth.
“jump out of the school? To do what exactly?”
“I know I may be punished for this but it is what I have to say. We usually jump out of the school to smoke marijuana every Saturday evening. Actually, Collins was the one who introduced me to marijuana. He claims it cools his nerves whenever he’s losing it. That particular evening, Collins told me he wanted to meet to talk some things out with Ms Lawson.”
“interesting! What was his relationship with Ms Lawson?”
“it all started when Ms Lawson was just employed. She was keen of him because he is Igbo just like herself. They grew fond of each, then we all started thinking they were dating. The rumour almost came to realization, but in a bad way. Ms Lawson wanted to abuse Collins. She failed on many occasions but she never stopped trying. That was when she started failing Collins in Music,” I coughed, looked at Collins then focused on my story. “I don’t know how she managed to do it, but Ms Lawson later made her way to him. She raped him. Collins was anguished. He was angry. He cried profusely when he was narrating the experience to me. Due to his seldom psychological glitch, he vowed that he would kill her.”
“What psychological glitch?”
“Collins has a psychological trauma that’s not being treated. Due to the events that happened when his father killed his mum and burnt himself with the house, he was affected psychologically. When the orphanage found him, he told them a completely different story. I think this is really affecting Collins. A couple of times, he had tried to strangle me for some flimsy issues. I guess his psycho rose, that was why he lured her to come get more of him. He sent a note to her telling her that they should meet. He sent a note to her telling her that they should meet by five in the abandoned building outside the school .Then, he stabbed her.”
“How did you get to know about the note,” he asked.
“He told me. He said he wanted to talk things out with her. In his words also he wanted to give her more, “I answered curtly. The note was probably found in Ms. Lawson’s desk when they were investigation, so it was there as evidence.
“let’s meet at five na. The uncompleted building outside the school would be okay.”
There was no way he was getting out of that, it was his handwriting, his knife and his fingerprints. I won. I was victorious. He didn’t go to prison. Rather, he was sent to an asylum.
Now, would you be willing to read the truth?

My name is Adewole Henry Oladokun- Wole Henry oladokun, my classmates called me who because of the initials of my name- W H O. now go back to check when keji said, “what’s wrong with who”- did you notice the omission of the question mark? Chioma asked if it was Who that will be fine. Do you know why he said she also referred to him as a third person also?
The story I said was the truth but all of that happened to me, not Collins. I was the one who was abused by Ms Lawson, and I was the one who killed Ms Lawson. Who killed Ms Lawson. She deserved it and more. I only used Collins as my prey because he was fond of her, and he had a crush for Chioma, I repeat, I don’t share my woman. By the way, he was not supposed to crush on her, they came from the same orphanage as siblings.
I didn’t lie when I said it was collins that made me start smoking-he was. On Friday before we left for our various hostels, I took his knife from his locker. I also sent him a message asking if we should meet by four. I knew we already had a fixed time, I only wrote that note so that he would send me another note telling me that we should meet by five. We shuffled our locations, so I made sure he chose the location, so that I would know where to murder her.
When we were going to the refectory, I later told him that he should come by 5;30pm. He agreed and said he would meet me there. That way, he would come almost as soon as I was done with my execution. I used a rubber glove before I stabbed her, I disposed the gloves it into the river nearby as soon as I was done. When I saw him coming, I hid somewhere and made him reach the scene before I did. Naively, he picked up the murder weapon and started crying. He kept on slapping her cheeks as if to bring her back to life but it was futile. Just then, I came out and started shouting. I started crying. I called him a murderer and gave him no chance to explain. He was confused, he didn’t know he was set up. He trusted me, poor Collins would never believe I could do that to him. I immediately went to call the house master and told him that Collins murdered Ms Lawson. That was my perfect story. I knew the Nigerian police would not stress on such mater, they already had the killer, but they didn’t know who did it.
WHO KILLED Ms LAWSON>>> do you know why there was no question mark in the title now?

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Harmattan in August

Harmattan in August; chapter two

I was stilled by panic. Everything between us was supposed to have been quenched the moment he was murdered. What have I done wrong? He stared at me with so much serenity in his eyes. At first, the look in his eyes almost made me forget he was not human. His look was so peaceful and accommodating. The fact only remained that he was a ghost.
It took me few minutes before I could successfully get the key into my apartment. Fear had taken the best of me. He, on the other hand, looked so calm and collected just like he was when we were lovers. He didn’t look bothered whatsoever. He didn’t even shrug when I couldn’t get the key sooner. I was scared that he wasn’t scared of someone sighting him. Eventually, I got hold of the bunch of keys. I opened the door, and just like I expected, he followed me in.
For hours, I sat down on the couch in my living room, still confused by the situation. He sat across me, staring intensely at me. I couldn’t get myself to look at him, so I bowed my head all through. At first, I thought I should go hide away from him in my bedroom, but the big question is “could I hide from a ghost?” A lot flooded my head- what would he be eating? How long will he be here for? Why did he come back to me? Is he back for revenge? Would he speak with me? Is he back so that we could continue with our relationship? “Oh no!! I can’t handle this situation.” Before I knew it, tears were already flowing down my eyes.
Unexpectedly, there was power supply. Under normal circumstances, I would have been exceedingly excited, but reverse was the case that night. Apart from the tension that was dumped in the utmost percentage of my body because of the ghost’s presence, I was also scared owing to the flickering lights and the other technological glitches I was experiencing. The television automatically turned on itself, which was weird. Instead of staying on, it was fluctuating -it would turn on, then turn off, on, and then off…. I grabbed my phone with my shaky hands, so that I could call the engineer that could fix the technological glitches, but the phone suddenly shut down. “Oh no! Not now. What is he doing to my house?”
I don’t know what triggered me to do it but I did it- I looked him in the eye. I looked into his crooked sunken eyes. Well, it was crooked and sunken, it was sweet and beautiful. I thought I was supposed to feel like a super hero or something like that, right? Well, sad news, that didn’t happen. Staring at him only fuelled the initial fear. The speed of light took me out of the living room. All I know was that I made it to my room. I locked the door behind me, then and there I fell to the ground. And for the first time that night I burst into tears. I was done for. I wanted to find somewhere safe to stay, but would he ever let me be? I needed to be comforted, but would he ever let me get comfort.
I don’t know how, something kind of erased every thought I had for a moment. I forgot about the ghost and I felt at peace. I felt a presence that stood in for the safety and the comfort I wanted. Then, the hand was on my back, patting me and luring me to sleep. I could feel cool breath that calmed my nerves. Just then, I heard a whisper, “why did you do it?” I was jerked back to life immediately. I took the bottle I got a hold of to attack him, but he swept away like the sea. My sanity was trading itself for insanity. My heartbeat was going up and up…will peace ever be mine again? I screamed.
My windows were all locked, I made sure of that. I was then tiptoeing in my house. What an irony? I couldn’t get myself to sleep, I was looking there and there for him. Where was he hiding? Would he come back when I’m sleeping? I folded myself in a blanket and hugged myself tight. I could not bear any risk. I dread to think what it would look like if a ghost raped me while in my sleep. That made me remember what it felt like to pray. Good lord!! I had forgotten I could pray that well….In the long run, I fell asleep.
What kind of a sleep would I have if I didn’t dream the usual dream…more like nightmare? In the dream, I would kneel beside a dead man, cry, and then run away. I never got to see the face of the man but he spoke. He would say, “It’s hot now, but it’ll be cold later.” The statement baffled me every time I had the dream. Till that moment, I still could not tell what he meant by that. I’ve tried to bring out the Leonardo Da Vinci in me, but I never succeeded
Before I knew it, it was dawn. I woke up dazzled that I actually slept off. I scrutinized my body meticulously, as if to check if a part of it was missing. To say the fact, I was even surprised that I wasn’t a ghost myself. I thought maybe he would have attacked me during my sleep or maybe he would have done even worse. I roamed my brain to tell whether I made it to my bed before I slept off. Certainly, I know for a fact that I was still sitting on the floor when I slept off. How did I manage to get on my bed? I didn’t have to stress my brain before I got an answer to that. Obviously, the ghost helped me. At a corner of my mind, I found it really weird that I was not as bothered as I should be about having a ghost in my home. I found it really weird that I was even looking out for me. What had taken over me? Had I been hypnotized?

It was the second day in August. Just like you guessed, there was still Harmattan. The only difference from the initial day was that the august visitor had visited without an invite. I got out of bed, prayed, then I went in search of the ghost. As I was approaching the kitchen, I could perceive a really nice aroma. I don enter one chance. He was not ready to go anywhere. The door to the kitchen was not ajar neither was it locked, so I could peep in. I don’t know how but he felt my presence immediately. I instantly hid behind the door and watched him cook. To say a fact, he looked really good for a ghost. Weren’t ghosts meant to be cladded and covered in white like in movies? That ghost was actually wearing a pair of trousers and a t-shirt. That was really funny to me. He was a handsome ghost.
No one needed to tell me that I would not make it to work that day, I already knew and concluded. I decided to call in sick at work. But as I was about to try power on my phone to call the office, the ghost talked, “I sorted that out already mi amour.” “Did he just call me mi amour?” I thought. Obviously, he had come to stay. When he was done cooking, he dished the meal and brought it to me. He sat across me, and stared at me earnestly. Somehow, I was starting to feel relaxed with him. The ghost was playing the host. He wanted to satisfy me with all he could. At that time, I had almost forgotten that he was a ghost. As much as I feel relaxed with him, I could not decide if I should eat the food he cooked for me. What would the food taste like? Will it be ghost-like in its taste? There were too many questions I couldn’t provide answers to. I used the spoon to sweep the salad and the rice from one side to another, almost making it seem like I was piling a heap of rice for construction.
“You can eat it, it’s not poison. It’s just your favourite food,” he said, with a little tone of sarcasm. I don’t know what came over me, but hearing him speak made me smile.
“Thanks,” I whispered. I was supposed to be frightened by a ghost, why was I thanking him for cooking for me? A ghost cooked for me!!!! I managed to eat half of it before I dropped the remaining. When I was done eating, I went into the bathroom to have a bath. I didn’t have my morning skin care routine, I just bathed and wore a long maxi gown. Makeup? That wasn’t in mind at all. When I was done, I locked myself in my room. I tried to look through all the recent events that unfolded in my life. Those also took me to the past events. The thoughts of the past events brought back guilt and pain in to my heart. And that made me wonder, why wasn’t I so scared of the ghost? It was during the course of the meditation when I looked behind me to see a smiling Mr Bakare(the ghost). I wanted to smile back at him, but some thing in me made me ask, “Are you back for revenge?” I expected him to reply instantly, but there was a minute of outright silence.
“You know I’ve always told you that that it’s hot now, it’ll be cold later. It’s time, it’s cold now.”
“Was that you in my dream? Please…don’t hurt me. I’m sorry for everything. Are you back for me?” I sniffled through my speech.
“I was never gone…I was just waiting for the right time.” He said, still smiling. I was scared, I was really scared. For a moment, I was the overly scared lady. My inner temperature was increasing, I was suddenly nauseous and I just wanted to get out of there, if only it was possible.
“Don’t be scared mi amour. I’ll never hurt you. I’m just here for us to foster our love. I’m gone but not gone,” he said. Deciphering his words was really difficult, probably because I was scared to decipher them. “Don’t be scared! Never be, I’m here for you. I’ll make sure to treat you like a queen that you are. Let’s leave the past in the past. Love conquers all. You mean to me more than every other person,” he continued. History was about to repeat itself, his words were getting to me again. I watched him say each word earnestly. He said them like he meant them, I could tell through the flow of his lips. One way or another, our lips were locked. He kissed me like he owned me and like I owned him too. He poured out his love for me into the kiss. Just then, Denrele barged into my room and shouted, “I’m back ho.…..” What shocked him was the scene before him. I was kissing myself…
Look out for the next episode to unravel other mysteries: find out who denrele is. Find out what transpired between Mr Bakare and the author before, apart from the love affair.
Thanks for reading……muah.
Love,
Dora to the world.

Harmattan in august

So I started a short story collection- karma. I’ll post the first on the collection. I’ll release others later on

Karma: my short stories collection
Harmattan in August

It was the first day in August, and it started with Harmattan. Why would there ever be Harmattan in august? It was meant to be rainy. I was really amazed by the weather and the temperature. My desk and my room was already graced with the brown powdered dust. That dazed me even more. “So, it’s really Harmattan?” I thought to myself. I thought there was just a little change in the atmosphere, but all I saw spoke harmattan. The compound was already littered with flowers that fell from the cocoa tree by the time I woke up that morning. The whistling air was constantly reoccurring too. Undoubtedly, it was harmattan. The only question I wanted an answer to was ‘why August?’ There’s this idiom about august visitors which I related it too. Harmattan was the august visitor, and it coincidentally visited in august. I sensed a bad omen.
It was very difficult for me to get out of my bed, and it made it really difficult for to prepare for work too. I kept on snoozing my alarm, until I saw the light that peeked in though the blades. It was morning, and I was ready to be petitioned for being late. I hurriedly got dressed and munched on my favorite cereal. I was going to open the door to head out for work when I got a notification from whatsapp. I was really surprised when I saw the sender, but what shocked me more was the content of the message. The message was from Tola, an old secondary school mate. No doubt, she got my number from the class whatsapp group. We barely talked when we were in school and even after we left secondary school.
The content of the message read- “I met peju’s dad at the bank today. He gave me a sum of one hundred thousand naira to take a bike back to the hospital. But he added that I must extend his regards to you. What surprised me was how he got to know I was headed for the hospital.”
“it couldn’t have been Peju’s dad,” I kept on reassuring myself. “I guess it was someone else.”
Peju was my best friend while I was in secondary school. When she came to school the first day, everyone wanted to be her friend because she looked like a cool rich kid. She was a rich kid and she was cool too. I was not going to force a friendship with anyone because they had money. Never!! I don’t know how it happened but we ended up being really cool friends. People called us BFFs. My parents loved her and her parents loved me too.
Abruptly, Peju stopped coming to school. The first day she wasn’t in school, we all thought maybe she was sick. Three weeks went by and Peju still wasn’t back. I tried checking up on her at her house, but it was locked up when I went there. I asked their neighbors if they knew where they went, but they all said they didn’t even know when they left. I kept calling her, but it never went through. When the term was over and peju still wasn’t back, we all gave up on getting in touch with her. One fateful evening, I got a call from Peju.

When I got to work, kate swayed her wide hips to my office immediately she saw me. I thought she was going to feed me the latest news in office, but the gist she had was shocking, it was not an interesting gist about the office lovers. She told me that she saw Peju’s dad a night before that day. She said he offered her a ride home when her new boyfriend threw her out of his house. Kate knew Peju’s dad because we attended the same secondary school. She was a junior but we were pretty close. People thought it was coincidence that we worked at the same firm. What they didn’t know was that with strong connection, linking up is not very difficult.
What baffled me more about Kate’s report was the fact that she emphasized on the fact that Peju’s dad sent his regards to me. You want to know why I’m baffled? I’ll sure tell you. When Peju called me suddenly that fateful evening, it was to inform me about her father’s death. He was murdered by her mum. She told me that her mum killed him in her(peju) defense. He attempted to rape Peju, so her mum stabbed him from behind when she caught him about to perform the gruesome task. She took care of it with her mum and her brother, then they eloped. She called on that particular day to inform me that she would be travelling out of the country with her mum and her brother.
I was deeply hurt when she told me about it. Hurt, not because my friend was gone but because my lover was gone. Peju’s dad was my lover. He promised me the world, he promised to make me feel heaven on earth and he promised to treat me like a queen that I was. I thought it was going to become reality, I didn’t know he was going to abuse me as a child. He was not able to abuse me as a child, I guess he came back because i was older.
I was not myself throughout that day at work. Immediately the day was over, I rushed out of the office. On my way back home my car got spoilt. I didn’t know what I could do, that shouldn’t add to my problem. I was battling with it when a handsome gentleman packed by my side. He convinced me that he would get someone to repair my car, and he also offered me a ride home.
I though he was supposed to leave when he dropped me at home but he didn’t. He hopped out of his car and followed me to my doorstep. At that time, I was already shivering out of fear. I couldn’t control my bladder, urine was gently making its way out.” What if he is an armed robber? Or a hired assassin? Or a rapist?” I had a lot going on in my head. I was already making a vow to myself that I would never let a stranger help me. When I looked into the glass, I noticed that I was the only one standing, but I could feel the presence of some other person. I slowly turned my head to look. Boom!! It was Peju’s dad. He had his signature smirk plastered on his face, then I thought I was doomed.🙆🏻

Harmattan in August; chapter two

Look out for the next episode to unravel other mysteries: find out who denrele is. Find out what transpired between Mr Bakare and the author before, apart from the love affair.
Thanks for reading……muah.
Love,
Dora to the world.

I am who I am

Could anyone guess the number of times people had asked if I was a boy? When I was much younger , I always got annoyed any time people asked me that. There was a particular woman who found joy in mocking me for that. She was really “endowed” – let your imagination do justice to that. I felt she mocked me because my body features weren’t like hers. I was then hoping that I would one day grow to be like her. Well, I grew to be nothing like her. But I gave a fuck about what I looked like in the past, not now.

Then, I listened to Alessia Cara’s ‘scars to your beautiful’. It did make me feel good sincerely but it almost created for me a low self esteem I never had. I started giving a fuck about what I looked like, insecurity started to set in. Before that time, I loved to look good always. I always explained to people that there’s a gap between wanting to look good and feeling insecure about what I looked like. I kinda had a touch of both, but the latter prevailed during the journey. Then, I wasn’t me. I started feeling like I wasn’t girly enough( I felt I looked like a guy). I would tell myself that I am good-looking in a manly way.

But the fuck do I care now, I am just me. And God created me too, into a masterpiece. So, if you have an opinion about what I look like, keep your voice down. Don’t drop all sort of fake “you are beautiful s” in a pity tone. Keep it to yourself, I know already.