really good piece

The JR Show

One of my earliest memories was a picture of a man supposed to be Jesus, with his foot on a demon-looking creature supposed to be the devil. I don’t know why I remembered this particular sight as I stood there watching him lying in the sofa, his whole body covered with a cloth. Tears streamed down my face without permission. Honestly, I didn’t feel sadness at that moment. So I didn’t understand the tears. But they wouldn’t stop. I had driven him to church in the morning. Spoken to him about three times on phone through the day. I walked out of the room and sat on the deteriorating bench on the compound . I needed to understand why I didn’t feel sadness and more importantly, why I was crying all the same.

Stop whatever you’re doing and hurry back home. Your father is dead.

That has got to be…

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I saw this competition about a week ago………the beginning of the story was given and participants were to complete the story in 1200 words or less and in time shifts of two (2hrs ago, 2 days ago, 2 months ago, 2 years ago, etc). Now this is not what I’m submitting, I just wanted to give it a shot. So my very cliche story (lol) begins after the bold print.


Aigbe smiled callously as he watched Esosa tumble backwards onto the floor. He thought to himself that she looked quite like a fish out of water-flailing about, reaching for support that would not be forthcoming. His smile quickly evolved into a cruel laugh as he watched the back of her head crash onto the cold, tiled floor with a sickening, wet sound. Leaping astride her semi-conscious body, he rained three solid blows onto her torso, working his way from her lower ribcage to her sternum. She yelped, shook, and choked with each blow, unable to fight back.

“You are the one that will die, not me, Stupid Harlot!”

He spat into her face as the last blow landed and she choked violently, jerking with the impact of the blow and recoiling from the projectile spittle that had hit her face.

“You! Are! A! Mad! Dirty! Prostitute!”

Each word was punctuated by a slap that sent waves of pain coursing through Esosa’s head. She could barely speak or scream or shout in protest, much less move. She felt herself start to slip into a numb blackness but she tried to hold on. Aigbe wrapped his hands around her neck and muttered.

“Witch! Harlot! Your plan has failed!”

Esosa closed her eyes and let the numbing darkness take her as her husband choked the remaining life from her, his wedding ring pressuring against her carotid artery.


2 Hours Earlier

Esosa smiled to herself as she poured the brown powder into the bottle of Merlot. She re-corked it and shook it violently until the powder began to dissolve. She knew Aigbe was already on his way home. She walked over to the storeroom, placing the bottle exactly where she had found it; Aigbe was very particular about little details. Watching to be sure there were no tell-tale ring marks she walked back into the dining hall and made a phone call.

“Hello” a little boy’s voice called from the other end of the line.

“Hi sweety” Esosa said. “Is Mimi there?” she asked; and was rewarded with her sister’s voice coming through the phone.

“Esosa” her sister said. “What’s going on? You’re being very mysterious you know. And why did you ask your driver to drop Chide here without asking me first? I love him to bits but I could have been out or something………”

“Relax” Esosa cut in. “I’ll explain….…..”

Just then she heard Aigbe’s horn. Quickly, she dropped the phone and went to open the gate, hoping Mimi had the sense to know not to call back.

“Where’s Mensah?” Aigbe asked of the security man/driver as soon as he got out of the car. Without waiting for an answer, he walked into the house, leaving her to carry his bags inside.

Once they were inside, he headed straight for his Merlot. Apparently tonight was no different from any other; he would finish the bottle of Merlot before he did anything else. As he reached for the bottle, Esosa couldn’t help but smile. “Yes”, she thought to herself, “phase one is finally in motion”


2 Days Earlier

Esosa curled into a ball where right where Aigbe left her. After 2 years of this she thought she could take anything he threw her way but tonight’s beating was way beyond anything Aigbe had ever done to her. The shocking part was tonight’s beating was over the very trivial issue of her wasting fifteen minutes on the phone with Mimi while he was waiting to be served his dinner. His point being nothing should take precedence over his dinner; he shouldn’t be expected to dish out his own food.

A few minutes later she heard the front door slam. Thank God he’s leaving she thought; she didn’t have the strength to get off the floor. When he was satisfied his father wouldn’t be coming back, Chide- her two year old- crept out of his hiding place and came to her. Trembling all over, he curled into a little ball right beside her, saying “I’m sorry mommy” the whole time.

She didn’t understand why Aigbe had changed so much, the first two years of their marriage had been magical. There was nothing she wanted that Aigbe wouldn’t give her. He treated her like a queen and all her friends told her how fortunate she was to have landed such a guy.

Holding on to her son’s trembling body, Esosa resolved “my son is not growing up to become a wife beater; Aigbe must go”. Slowly, a plan began to form.


2 Months Earlier

Close to two years down the line and Esosa wouldn’t leave. Considering her pampered background, he had thought a little bit of manhandling would make her run back home. “I obviously have to intensify things” he thought, taking a sip of his Merlot. He flashed back to the exodus of the situation.


2 Years Earlier

Aigbe looked at Chide’s little self bundled up in the couch and recalled the doctor’s words the previous day “I’m sorry sir” Dr. Ansah had said “you can never have children because of this condition”.

“But-but my wife just had a baby” Aigbe spluttered “are you saying that’s not my child?”

“I’m just saying it’s highly unlikely” the doctor replied “I suggest you take a paternity test”.

Aigbe shook his head to get rid of the memories.  How could Esosa cheat on him? He had shown her so much love, even more when they had found out she was pregnant. He couldn’t believe she’d choose to repay him this way.

He went to the storeroom, and picked up a bottle of Merlot. Numbly, he recalled doing the same thing when he got home the previous day and made a mental note not to make a habit of it. “Esosa can’t turn me into a drunk on top of everything else” he thought.

Sitting back on the couch, he weighed his options.

Esosa came from a very rich family, and her father had insisted he sign a pre-nuptial agreement before he allowed the wedding. A pre-nuptial agreement that stipulated that if for any reason whatsoever he decided to leave before 5 years into the marriage, he got nothing. If Esosa decided to leave on the other hand, he got a million dollars.

Love had made him sign it then but now he decided that if he had to leave, he was leaving with a million dollars. The cheating whore didn’t get to sleep around and keep the money too.


2 Hours Later (present)

The phone rang and rang, yet no one picked up, and it went to voice mail. “Mr. Aigbe, this is Dr. Ansah. Call me as soon as you get this. There was a mix up at the lab two years ago. You are not sterile, I’m very sorry” and the caller hung up.

The call was never to be returned though; Aigbe and his wife lay dead on the kitchen floor. Esosa’s potion had worked but too late for her to see it happen. Aigbe collapsed beside her a mere two minutes after he strangled the life out of her.


want to participate? find details of the competition here —>


my mother’s love <3

I’m not a mother yet

Heck I’m nowhere near getting married

But there’s one thing I know for sure: I want to be the kind of mother my mother is.

I’m told that when I was in kindergarten, a teacher asked everyone what work their mother does. Know-it-all that I am, when it got to my turn my answer was: my mother is a hairdresser, a seamstress, a barber, a carpenter, a painter……….in fact I’m sure I said a lot more. My mother is not any of those things though, but let me explain where I was coming from.

In my little mind I was thinking…………..

My mother is a hairdresser………she was the one who always braided my hair before I left for school.

My mother is a seamstress……….she lovingly sewed all my uniforms and Christmas clothes.

My mother is a barber………..I’m sure I saw her cut my dad’s hair a couple of times.

My mother is a painter……….she painted the house by herself whenever the walls were dirty.

My mother is everything!

A friend told me he doesn’t believe the love God describes in 1 Corinthians 13 exists among men and says therefore love does not exist (ie romantic love). We’ve had our disagreements but that’s a topic for another day. For today, all I’m saying is I think I think my mother’s love is God’s kind of love.

For the sake of her children, my mother endures all things, bears all things, believes all things, and hopes all things. For our sake, my mother is long suffering and kind. My mother puts us before herself, and is not easily provoked.

My mother is brave for our sake, and fights our battles without us having to ask her to.

At 2 years old, my mother taught me how to spell both her and my dad’s names, even before I could actually write my ABCDs.

I was up worrying about something some night when my mother came up to me and said “it’s your job to sleep and it’s my job to do the worrying. Anything you are worried about, just tell me and let me do the worrying.”

My mother is the one who would stay up with me and help me do the piles of homework I was always saddled with back in J.S.S.

When I was going to write the B.E.C.E it was my mother who took it upon herself to help me with my maths and learnt my curriculum so she could teach me.

Even now that I’m in my twenties, I can be sad about something……..and with just a few words, she’ll turn everything around.