Femi Uncensored

Aside: This very short poem was originally composed and published (on Facebook) in July of 2012; a period when I had just began taking little nervous sips from the epiphanic wineglass of creative writing. It is the second poem I ever wrote. I was trying to capture the mental turmoil and constipation that befalls a writer before we see the beauty of his/her work. Writer In Distress Momentarily, motion became motionless, Warring ideas encamp bare brain, Blue black, Lilac, Perception becomes deception, Thought-tainted blood, Flowed through nail-bitten fingers, Wood and Lead came to life,  To issue that which had strived.

Every molue passenger is a potential mad or woman! If I had had the premonition of what I was to go through on the morning of a particular Tuesday in 2014, I would have stayed or slept at home all day. But then, how was I supposed to know that I was just another mad Nigerian waiting to be unveiled.

"Flash fiction?! What the hell is that?!" That was my reaction, earlier this year, when I stumbled upon this strange and 'deceptively complex' genre. I read a few which I really liked. Also known as Micro-fiction, it's a straight to the point, point-blank story. It's the short story of a short story. Last week, I had this picture in my head which wouldn't fit a "typical short story". So I was like, why not give flash fiction a shot? So here's my first flash fiction story. I hope you enjoy it! 😀 My timepiece; stainless steel Diesel. Italian. The Skeletal design, which exposes the eyes to the mechanical movements of the clockwork is complemented by the robotic hands. A classy space-age jewellery for a time conscious mind. “Excuse me”, said a plump woman standing beside me at the bus stop. “Please, what is it by your time?” I promptly dipped my left hand in my pocket and fetched out my smartphone. I dabbed in my password. The ho...

6:37 pm. Eko Hotel & Suites, Lagos. The new bride stood at the threshold of her suites’ balcony, gazing dreamily into the vista of the Kuramo beach against the backdrop of a setting sun. The fingers of her right hand are curled around the bowl of a wine glass. Baileys. It is the only other liquid she drinks after orange juice and water. Mostly in that order. The finger of her left hand, splayed and lost, in the softness of a flame patterned chestnut drape. She enjoyed the way the hem of her bathrobe flutter in the evening breeze.

I was a stray waif before I met you. Alone. Lost. Broken. But hopeful. Mistrust is a heavy cloak. But the world is cold. ‘Come closer, let me love you.’ You said.

The African cathedral at the end of the street ended its Sunday service over an hour ago. It was a wonderful service; a welcome service for the beloved Bishop Dairo, who had been absent for two weeks. The bishop had embarked on a spiritual mission to a mountain (or Ori-oke, as the Yorubas call it) in Ondo state, for a 14 days (and 14 nights) prayer and fasting. The amiable bishop beamed with joy throughout the thanksgiving service. Indeed, he looked fresher than he was two weeks ago but it is only the devil-inspired ones that would deem it suspicious. After all, Moses was on Mount Sinai with God for 40 days and nights and he came back looking radiant. Songs of praises and heavenly hymns made the service glorious despite the noticeable absence of the choirmaster.

I can't breathe. That was the second thought Femi's brain registered. He felt his heart pecking rapidly against his chest. There was no rhythm. Like the big diesel generating set in his parent’s church. He felt adrenaline, that hot fluidal energy, run its course through his veins. He was in danger. That instinctive fight or flight danger... And his first thought had been – flight!

Here's a funny & one of my favorite Short stories from one of Russia's greatest dramtist & writer Anton Chekhov (1860 - 1904).       ________________________________________ I AM a serious person and my mind is of a philosophic bent. My vocation is the study of finance. I am a student of financial law and I have chosen as the subject of my dissertation -- the Past and Future of the Dog Licence. I need hardly point out that young ladies, songs, moonlight, and all that sort of silliness are entirely out of my line.

My name is Daniel, my friends call me Dan. I used to be shy around girls, the prettier she was, the more nervous I became. I used to be a loner, not many people around to call my friends. Most time, I'd get lost in my daydream about a less boring life. I lacked basic social skills; I would sit away from others and watch people interact, friends smiling and teasing each other. They always said I was proud and arrogant... If only they knew how lonely I was. That used to be my life until I met Cynthia. I was in SS3 and we had just moved in to a new neighborhood. Her house was next to ours. We usually talk till late in the night. I always looked forward to our conversation after school. One night, I mustered all the courage in the world, I had been planning and procrastinating on this for weeks; I asked her to be my girlfriend. I stuttered at some point, most girls would never realize what it takes for a guy to walk up to them and express his feelings.   She never g...

As I walked to the sprawling gates, with Banana Island carved out on a platform in front; I welcomed myself to Banana Island, where Timaya was booted out for being unable to pay rent, where a flat can go for #600m. Where Mike Adenuga, Iyabo Obasonjo and co take residence. Welcome to Forbes’ Most Expensive Neighbourhood in Nigeria, I told myself. “Yes, can I help you?” a stern looking security man asked rather arrogantly. He let me in after I told him I was heading to. Airtel office to see someone. I walked to the shuttle and waltzed away when I was told drop is #200, I later learnt it wasn’t so far. But time was running out, at 5:15pm, I had already gone the rounds with Multichoice, Zenith, GTB all at Ikoyi. A security detail at Dolphin Estate told me MTVBase had shifted base from Dolphin to Parkview Estate, “that Parkview ehn, na big, big, men dey live there” he explained. I smiled and I walked away. Now in the much hyped Banana Island, I walked to the shuttl...