Abigail

   The story of Abigail and Abiona. I hope you do enjoy

           ABIGAIL

   The lights around dimmed gradually and night fell, Abiona sat up in bed waiting for everywhere to become quiet. Certain it was safe to move out, he put on some clothes and did a "soundcheck" to know if he didn't have a bad breath, he was meeting with the love of his life, every day, he looked forward to the nights when they always had their rendezvous.
      Stepping out quietly,he went into the night treading carefully on a path he now knew fully well, she'd be waiting at the river and he headed towards it. He couldn't be scared of the night creatures as he knew just where to step, it was very dark already so no human could be out by now so he didn't have to worry about that either. Soon he got closer and he felt the rush again, that feeling of anguish and despair as he set his sights on his love.
      Sobbing quietly, he moved closer to her and felt her name etched on the marble "Abigail Thomas". He picked up the flowers freshly laid there and as he did all nights, He lay down on her grave remembering the times they shared.

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Ayánfe

Ayánfe is a project I'm working on. It might develop into a series or a book. This is an excerpt below


       AYANFÉ

  She approached him, wearing her hottest "Oleku", the one he loved best. He was waiting under the mango tree, clad in Buba, shorts and his " Abeti Aja" cap. He smiled at the gentle sway of her hips moving side to side like a pendulum, she moved as gracefully as a cat in its master's presence, body shaped like a hourglass.
  Ayanfé threw herself into Ogunjimi's arms and he hugged her like his life depended on it. They looked into each other's eyes, understanding everything left unspoken. It was inevitable what was about to happen. "Ogunjimi mo tí n ló, I've to go" she said. He took his hands off her waist then, and said "Days will pass, years will turn to decades, but my love for you will forever be fresh like water leaf which grows beside a tap"
   They shared a kiss,gentle yet breathtaking, putting all emotions into it as they knew it could be their last. Ayanfé broke the kiss and left without looking back, on her way to the king's palace, where she'd be the latest bride which the despot took for himself.

                                       

Moist

Have you ever wondered how the rain comes? I do every time I watch the rain.
I wrote this piece watching the rain.

     MOIST

    I smelt it first, that unexplainable aura that seems to be moist soil. I wonder why it smells that way, maybe a special spray is sent down from the heavens just before the downpour. The first drops fell and it was like sprinkles from a shower tap just after you close it. Then it came in full in force. Rain.
    I didn't run for cover, I just stood there looking into the skies, perhaps hoping to see where the plug was pulled or if it's an angel pouring it from a bucket; anything just to explain this phenomenon. I get tired of this and I try to get a mouthful of water, I tried for ten minutes without success, I'm baffled then as to how buckets get filled;I might just be a little jealous of those objects.
    In the distance, I spot the leaves of a corn plant glistening "green" like a newly washed half of a Nigerian flag. I feel lucky for it, the rain is food.
It then comes, just at that moment, the best part of it for me;the sun peeping from behind the clouds like a student seeking permission from his principal. Somewhat reluctantly it finally comes out fully and I feel that ecstasy; Sunshine after the storm, Light after dark, now I'm sure everything is gonna be okay.
     Suddenly I feel numb all over, OMG!, I'm soaking wet, funny how I got lost in the moment, I stare at the skies, it's clear now and patterns are forming. I see the rainbow shaped in the pattern of a flannel shirt. I guess the creator knows my favourite things and he made this rain just for me.


                                                               

Chance

 This is a short story about a typical Lagos girl. I hope you enjoy.


      CHANCE
   Damilola frowns at her work, "It's such a mess", she crumbles it and throws it to the floor. " I'll start on something better tomorrow", she thinks to herself. She walks out into the street and strolls home making sure, she locked the door of the studio behind her. Tomorrow is gonna be better.
   "Traffic is thick", she observes. Getting a bus now will be very difficult, her "Lagos girl" spirit gats take over now o, fine girl no go do anything." Thirty minutes goes by, and shouts of "Ikeja Along, Ikeja Along" alerts her, moving closer, she squeezes and "squazzues" herself into the bus; "Of what use is her small frame, if she can't get in amidst these people?".
    Getting into the bus, she tries to get as comfortable as possible, and the bus takes off " Lagos wahala na die". In order to get her mind off the discomfort, she begins making mental notes about the next day. "I need to work on the drawing Mrs Ara contacted me to make, need to get more charcoal pencils and a fresh canvas", she thought. She feels a gentle touch, thinking to be just bodies brushing each other, she decided to ignore. Again, that touch and she looks up now. Well; her heart stopped momentarily at that moment. She saw a guy with teeth turned brown with tobacco and eyes as red as the light on an MTN mast. Opening her mouth to ask what he wanted, she felt another touch.
     Her heart stopped this time too, but for all the right reasons, the touch came from a good looking guy, tho his hair was little bushy, it added an adventurous dimension to his clean-sheltered boy look. " Please you're crushing my knees " Mr Clean- Sheltered said. Damilola came back to the present. She had been resting her elbow on his knee. Taking off softly, she apologises and he politely introduced himself. Segun Daniels.
      They converse shortly about the traffic and she somehow gets to see his wallpaper. An album art of Jon Bellion;also rearing its head from the open bag on his lap is "The Godfather" by Mario Puzo. A guy that reads Mario Puzo and listens to Bellion definitely is her speck. In a bid to know more, she talks about her two observations and Daniels goes on and on about Don Corleone's character. It's done.
    Damilola relishes the knowledge that she has a new canvas to work on. One that doubles as a pumping device. She'd draw beautiful butterflies and etch them deep into his heart. It's not certain whether it'd be a beautiful drawing or poor but she definitely would give it a try. "I really should come back to reality, a chance meeting doesn't always end in happy ever after" she thinks. At Ogba bus stop, she drops from the bus, waves to Daniels, never to see him again.

    For Gigi

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