By Caleb Jacob
[Abike is about to go to school this morning when her mother, Abosede kisses her good bye. Just then…]
Abike: [To her kneeling mum] Mum, yesterday after school, before you came, a man told me he was coming to take I and my mum to his house very soon.
Abosede: [Shocked] Oh my God! Which man was that? How does he look? Who did he say he is? Talk to me Abike my daughter.
Abike: He is dark, muscular and has a full beard. He says he is my Dad and he will come to take us home someday.
Abosede: [Dumbfounded, knowing that the description is familiar] Oh my God, Abike love, that’s not your Dad. Your Dad is my husband, the one you’re living with. Anyone that says he’s your father is a kidnapper. Do not let him take you anywhere. Scream if he tries to!
Abike: [Calmly] He gave me his number and a letter to give to you too. [Handing out an envelope] Here is it.
Abosede: [Receives it and turns away from her daughter as her heart beats. The short letter reads thus.] “Abosede, I know you’re reading this right now. I am writing to let you know that I will surely come back for my daughter. You got married to my best friend Seyi because he had the cash that I don’t have. I wonder what responsible man would take another man’s child and wife without asking salient questions. Know this, Bose, I will do whatever it takes legally and otherwise to make sure I have my family back. I’ve given my contact to Abike. Call me immediately, we need to talk. I’m back from Singapore and I need my happiness back. Don’t deny me my right to my child.”
[Aside] Oh God, what do I do now? Femi is going to put me into trouble. What is this now? What would I tell Seyi? I need to change my daughter’s school immediately.
Abosede: [Kneels and kisses her daughter] Come on baby, it’s a useless letter. He’s not your father. Let’s go to school before it’s late. Come.
By Success David (The Wordsmith)
Who could ever think we would ever
Who could ever think that we won’t be better
Who could ever think that we would move in fear chatter
From words batter to issues of over-counting cases of massacre
Who could ever think that our name would slowly erase and elude its meaning
Of the Nile, of water to that of bloodyria
We are not Syria, we were never Iranians
How did we even get here
Get to this point
Where the pledge of our military is become “killing and destruction”
Where our means to the show of our legitimate right, they call it PVC
Would become but just a means of our identity and not to the making of our future entity
Where our children and youth no longer believe the old saying of “leaders of tomorrow”, now they relent and live in fear and prayer just to stay alive until that morrow, without a fight, without strive
Where our earth serve us no longer, from anger of its lost nutrients destroyed by the unrest bloods of those taken away by our very own
Where the one thing we could ever believe in is questioned and in threat, they say religion is the cause
Where even our dogs bark in fear and not in fierce
Where chaos strive and is normal and peace is the smell of trouble and war
Where corruption is stale and the survival fight for power remains in vogue
Where we live in the wait of tomorrow as today wastes away, the same as our every tomorrow at the wake of dawn and sleep of dusk
Fear is what rules us now, even the rulers can’t dethrone it, for they fear in the covens and strategies drawn for their victory
They fear their allies
They fear their people
But even so they perpetrate evil to show their cowardice
They take advantage
And the weak, meek in welfare seek
Suffer vulnerably at this great expense
Who would save us
Where is our escape?
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