Friday, 18 May 2007


Apart from blogging, I enjoy writing. Since I was 7-9, and I saw the Alaadin movie, I grew an interest in writing. I write short stories, poems, books(that haven't been published yet). Everyday I wake up in the morning, thoughts and ideas come into my head. I can't go talking to people about these. "Abi were ni bobo yi" (mind my yoruba)will be in everyone's mouth.But writing is the only way for me to share my imaginations and ideas. This is a SHORT STORY I read during the April rabbit poetry and short story reading event. I know it's kinda long, but just read through. I tried picturing the scenario of a woman running with her child away from an abusive marriage and the biafran war.


The night was drawing near. Its arms were soon going to embrace mother earth. Even the sun was no where to be seen. "This is our chance" she kept whispering to her baby. The faith she had was too strong that she spoke to a baby who was not only deaf from his inexperience with words, but also from the horrific sounds of war. Her legs kept swaying but her head had no idea of its destination. The baby fastened to her back was a burden. But, she cared less. After all, she was running for him. She was tired of that place. It wasn’t home any longer. The thought of her choice kept ringing in her ears. The thoughts clogged her ears, that she failed to hear the voice of the incoming mob. They were furious, each with eyes stinging with hate. They held their batons and spiked edged clubs ready to devour. She stood under the frangipani tree, watching the scarred chested men. Her face had no expression, it was vague. Even her eyes were lax in unconcern. She wasn’t moved my their masked expressions of hate. She had seen it all before. They yelled at her swinging their clubs and batons near her. She didn’t utter any word. Then, a man walked out amidst the crowd. He was stern looking with a tribal marked that traveled from the ridge of his nose to his jaws. He walked towards her with his face focused on her baby. She saw this and turned her back, so her baby wouldn’t see his face. He sensed this and smiled briefly. He surveyed her body like she was a map work. He walked around her mimicking the oblivious mosquito that spun around her baby’s head. She wasn’t a beauty, certainly, if he was to judge from now. But, he had so much experience with women as to see that she once possessed a striking beauty. Her sullen eyes and ridged lips could already tell her story. "Woman, where are you coming from and where’s your husband"he asked. She didn’t utter any word, neither did she look at him. She just kept staring at the red ground. The mobsters wondered what sort of woman wouldn’t reply their leader. "Aren’t you afraid" one of them yelled. She still didn’t answer. Her silence was too piercing for him to bear. She made him look too stupid for a man. Suddenly, he raged at her, grabbing her baby by his neck. She yelled and pushed herself from his grasp. The wrapper she used in fastening her baby to herself, flew off her dead breast.Her eyes were suddenly filled with tear soaked rage. She threw herself into red ground with her arms wrapped around her baby. The man stood watching her with shock and a masked pity. He swallowed very discreetly a lump of saliva . He didn’t utter any word but wondered what pain would befall a woman, for her to act in such a manner. The background noise from the mobsters rioted with the pity he had for this woman. He turned to them and yelled for them to be quiet. They suddenly stopped barking. He held his hands towards her. She didn’t move. He smiled at her in a peaceful way, revealing a set of tainted white and chipped teeth. She took his hands and he raised her up. The baby cried as the man tried to hold his arms. He was used to weeping at the sight of men. This was no different.

As she sat facing the burning and chattering fire wood, she wondered who the mobsters were. They were probably the freedom fighters who fought against the chameleons. The night had finally come. Its scintillating yet conniving arms swept through her skin, as she shielded it from her baby. It reminded her that she couldn’t stay in the same spot. The chameleons would get her. She had to keep on running.

1 comment:

catwalq said...

Please where is the rest? That cannot be the rest.
Nice blog