Happy father's day to all the people who are playing the roles of a father to someone.
The roles of a father have been proven to be vital in the upbringing of children, to groom them into becoming functioning members of society.
To all fathers, thank you.
#happyfathersday
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Continue Reading: Memories, Lost: Back Home.
“Hey. Where are you guys?”
I heard some rustling and talking going on behind her, and the voice behind her completed my relieved state. She had gone to pick up my daughter, Doll from school because I couldn’t make it.
“Almost there. The mechanic store asked for another weekend for your car. I told you not to go to those people, but you don’t listen when I talk.”
Groaning, I walked over to my desk and wrote another sticky-note in my daily planner to remind me. Not only do I not have a car, but now I had to hear it from Fasa too. “What? They’ve had it for a week. Isn’t that enough?”
“Apparently not because—there’s a sidewalk, use it! Sue, honestly, I’m going to run one of these boys over one of these days.”
“Please be careful, hurt yourself on your own time—you have my daughter in there.” They pulled up before I could finish my sentence, and Doll skipped out of the car before it came to a full stop.
“Mommyyy!” I caught her in mid-run at the entrance and picked her up. Her braids fell over her face and she giggled madly when I kissed her face. Both of her front teeth were missing and the sight was comical.
“I told you to stop jumping out of cars. Why don’t you ever listen to me?”
She held my face in her hands and kissed my forehead. “Sorry, mommy.”
“Your charm won’t get you out of everything, young lady.” I set her down in the chair and turned to Fasa—who shut the door of the store and walk towards me, her braids hanging loosely around her shoulders, grinning like a Cheshire cat.
“No kisses for me?”
“You’re too old for kisses.” I rolled my eyes at her and grabbed my bag. It was time to leave; I really couldn’t take it anymore.
“Let’s go, baby. Mommy is really tired.”
“Can I play scrabble on your iPad?” Doll asked while I was locking the gate of the store.
“You’re six years old. Do you know how to play Scrabble?” Fasa asked, looking amused from the driver’s seat.
“Do
Continue Reading How To Be A 'Worthless Woman': A Guide.
“Mmesoma, so I am very sure you know why we are here,” she says to my face and I smile, nodding demurely, exactly how my mother has spent years teaching me how to.
“Good. So, what do you think of our son?” she asks, and all I can do is smile. Her face is dangerously close to mine, so I am not sure how to phrase my answer and avoid a slap at the same time.
“Well, he is very handsome, no doubt about that, ma,”
“Good answer! I can see that you have great eyesight and common sense,” she comments and takes a step back. “So, you are still a virgin ba? You must still be one because my son would not be getting married to a woman who has been doing akunakuna”
Kindly note that I am not the fairest of them all, but I am sure I look like a tomato at the moment. Afam’s siblings are giggling and my mother laughs, coming to my rescue with a bullet-point response.
“My daughter does not do things like that nau, Eugenia, you should know this. My mother raised me well and I raised my daughter the same way,”
From How To Be A 'Worthless Woman': A Guide
Continue Reading How To Be A 'Worthless Woman': A Guide[https://pabpub.com/r/Rs/?rdr=https://pabpub.com/books/304]
"An absolutely wonderful read. Had me choking and laughing with all the unveilings and the plotting by Mmesoma." @Ogchima
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Continue Reading I Plead Insanity.
I lock it in and throw the key far away,
Desperately trying to quiet my wailing heart,
For I am a lady and must look, breathe, and act the part,
Never mind that it feels deep down as though I'm being pierced by a dart,
I have to be strong for repercussions follow falling apart,
Ah, yes, I do have the perfect life,
And the perfect face and body, and would make the perfect wife,
What more could I wish for than to be everyone else's envy,
With beauty so potent, almost deadly,
Indeed, I must fake that smile and lie,
Away I stuff my pain and do everything but try,
But in an alternate universe maybe I would ask why,
Why I'm breaking inside, yet you scold, 'don't cry'.
From I Plead Insanity
Continue Reading I Plead Insanity: [https://pabpub.com/r/Rs/?rdr=https://pabpub.com/books/44]
"A personal compilation holding out a mirror so in the words expressed, readers can see a semblance of their reflection." - Joseph Awujoola
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Continue Reading Positions.
Will I ever love someone again?
I've been asking myself this question for a long time, Long before we met.
My ex took all the love I have, and I've been questioning if I can be enough for you.
I feel hollow, and I doubt I can ever fill you.
If I'm going to be with you, I want to be whole.
So, is love off the table for me?
I just want to be with you, I want to give you all I have, and take all you can afford to give.
Do not worry about loving me, heal from your past and be happy.
I'll carry you and your baggage, Get those weights that gravitate you down to earth off your arms.
I'll thaw down the ice shielding your heart.
Slowly, I'll chip away at the perimeters placed to guard you.
I'm here to fix your smile, and love you back to happiness.
I'll bring back love to you, And even if all fails, my love is enough for two
From Positions by Excel Adeogun.
Continue Reading Position [https://pabpub.com/books/339/]
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Continue Reading Shes and Diaries.
The Girl In The Dark Room
Do you really believe my words?
When I tell you "I'm okay"
Do you believe those words and think I truly am?
Don't be deceived,
They are lies I fabricated to fake a perfect life.
Don't even be fooled by my eye-catching smile,
It's a concealer to cover my pain, shame,
and heartache.
Don't even think I'm flawless,
The strength,
The courage,
The confidence,
The perfection,
Are all feigned.
This is me,
The remaining broken piece from ten years ago,
The girl that was told to seal her mouth,
The girl in the darkroom.
From Shes and Diaries by Adedamola Precious Aina.
Read Shes and Diaries on pabpub: [https://pabpub.com/books/350]
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"Hey, what are you doing here?"
I turn, startled by the voice laced with Igbo accent. Expecting to find a man, I find a boy glaring at me instead. He's dressed in a faded red t-shirt and jeans, and his feet—because I cannot resist looking down—are clad with slippers and caked in red mud. He's fair, the Igbo kind of fair I've come to realize, with a surprisingly soft and handsome face—if I still know what that word means. And his eyes are clear and bright and questioning.
"Didn't you hear me, or are you deaf?" he says again, squinting at me through round, dark eyes.
Words don't leave my mouth; they can't get past the pounding of my heart against my chest like a talking drum. Only that I do not know who is beating it.
"Are you dumb too?" He's looking at me, scrutinizing me, and I can almost see the gears turning in his head. "Gini bu aha gi?" he says. What is your name?
Mom made me learn some basics in Igbo so I understand what he’s saying. But still, I cannot speak. It feels like the words are purposely stuck in my throat, and if I speak it will be painful and I'll end up shouting, or worse, I’ll look like a fish struggling to survive on land.
"Okay, bia soro m." Come with me. He grabs my hand and that does it. I pull my hand out of his grasp like his skin is made of a dirty mop. Physical contact has never been my greatest likes, especially with strangers. I detest it so much it feels like human touch burns my skin sometimes.
"Don't touch me!" Yes, my bitch mode is on; it's enough to activate my speaking mode too. Speak or be taken. I'd rather speak.
He turns and stares at me like I have gone mad.
"So you can talk ehn? See, we don't have time to waste. This part of the market is not good. Soro m." Follow me.
"Why? How can I trust you?" I size-up his body for emphasis. He doesn't exactly paint the picture of a good guy.
He gives me a pointed look. "They burn people here."
Read In Red Mud on pabpub.
[https://pabpub.com/books/239]
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Speaking of super stars, we dare to say that T.J. Martins is one.
T.J. Martins is a passionate, prolific author who has written as many as over one million words before he turned 18. Not just a million words, million quality, plot-driven, descriptive and sensational words.
He is an author of 10 books, one of which is up to 228 thousand words in length. This is one of his signature moves, he is known for lengthy but immersive chapters, plots and best of all, amazing dialogues. Legend has it that, Paul Anisiji, the founder of PabPub learnt the art of dialogues and immersion from him and employed this style in the making of his controversial work, Chasing Annabelle.
He is popularly known as "reedink" in wattpad, where he first made a great impression amongst thousands of readers, especially West African readers. This was before he turned 18 and was soon snatched up to be part of the leading executives of Fresh Writers Community where he helped train fresh authors freely. Subsequently he became a pioneer and major figure head on the PabPub platform.
He is currently a 300 level student of Physiotherapy in the Redeemers University and can often be found there looking dashing in corporate outfits and charming the ladies without trying.
Of all PabPub authors he knows in person or through their work, he chooses Benjamin Paul, Chiziterem Chijioke and Lilian Nawgbara as his top 3 favourite authors.
He likes to listen to and talk about music in his free time. He also talks about fashion and movies, especially The Marvel universe. Yes, he is kind of an art nerd when he talks about these things, but they are still so interesting, cool and sophisticated. And we really think it is long overdue that he gets an official blog or a podcast channel where we could all read/listen to more of these talks.
His favorite published book is Tinted Scars. In his words, it is "the most personal and best written". We recommend you check out this book on PabPub. It is available for free [htt
Continue Reading Questions To Ask Before Marriage.
Do I love myself?
This question is way too important to not be asked. This question should be asked at every given point, not just before marriage.
I’m sure a lot of us have heard the cliché saying that you can’t love someone else till you love yourself. Well, it is hella true.
I understand. Loving one’s self isn’t exactly an easy road for some. Doubt and other factors make people feel like they aren’t worth it or that they aren’t exactly loved, but a little faith, a little confidence and a little declaration everyday can go a long way in building that self-love.
The dangers of not loving one’s self and entering into a marriage are numerous. The major one, I believe, would be depending on the other party to compensate for that love and once that feels absent, it could start a barrage of issues.
Please, love yourself. You owe it to yourself and you owe it to whoever you will be choosing to spend the rest of your life with.
Do I love my s/o?
See this question, it is important. Please, do not get married unless you’re sure you love your significant other.
Omo, may they not find the love of their life after marrying us o. Ha! That’s how I saw it on twitter one day that what if you find your soulmate after you’ve married? and I’m like… so the person you married was what? Your Sporting Waves? Your Dax? Your Apple or Damatol? Are you mad? Is your brain being controlled by the evil forces of darkness? People are scum sha. It will not be well with that soulmate. Ha!
Anyway, please and please, we will not be unfortunate o. Be sure you’re marrying the person that God has chosen for you. Don’t come and cause trouble later on. Curses are real o.
Also, don’t marry just because. Marry someone you love with your being. Let what hurts them hurt you. Let what makes them happy make you happy. Don’t half-ass your way into a marriage. It is easy to know when love isn’t real, especially when you’re living together for a long time. I
Continue Reading Memory Lane
"Why?" I asked no one in particular as I looked at the fowls that had taken over our compound. Daddy had never mentioned rearing domestic birds, he had constructed that little wooden house for the cat that was to come last December. Her name would have been Sam—if she came—but she never came and now, so easily, three chicks and four turkeys were given her house.
"I don't know," Eddy replied as he walked around with his hands on his waist. I didn't pay much attention to him, or my sister who tried to pick up a chick but failed because of fear. Instead, I walked into the house, to my room and dosed off quickly. Of course, by 9pm, I was awake and carefully describing the new owners of our compound.
The next morning, I did my usual morning ritual in my house. Wake up to my parents singing voice, or wake up, pretend to be asleep and pretend to wake up when they start singing. It was Morning devotion which sometimes came with some sort of preaching or words of advice from my dad.
Today, everybody was sited on the black leather couches that formed a semi circle, from my mum and dad, to my senior brother, my senior sister, me and then the baby of the house, my younger brother, Eddy. Daddy talked about how helping people could be dangerous. It was a little bit complex for me to understand but as he explained, I agreed with him. He didn't say helping was bad, but he was trying to let us know that some helping could deter us. He gave an example of a man that was retained by the police only because he helped an armed robber which he didn't know was a robber. He thought us how to help wisely, then we went ahead to pray that God would give us understanding and grace.
After morning devotion, I went about my house chores which were sweeping the rooms. I finished, joined my sister prepare breakfast then proceeded to take my bath. I was eager to spend another day with Peter not minding the fact that we had spent most of the week together.
"Sandra, please can you get some pai
Continue Reading Chasing Annabelle
"Do you plan on killing me and selling my organs? And why are you whispering suspiciously?" She finally asked, but her expression did not convey fear.
"Something tells me that if I say yes, you will find this date more intriguing." Somtoo blurted and let out muffled chuckles, but Annabelle did not find it funny. Instead, she sneered.
"Don't be weird." She warned and Somtoo replied with a curt apology.
"Sorry. Bad Joke." He said and added; "I could come out and bring you but -- we need to draw as little attention as possible.
"And a girl walking into a dark path alone in the night does not pull attention?" She asked casually and began to descend the short flight of stairs that led her way onto the lawn, and hence towards the fat tree's direction.
"Not really -- People come this way when they want to hide out and pee by the corner of the store."
"Ew! Have I mentioned that I find you disgusting?" She said as her eyes strained to find him behind the tree. A mischievous smile curled her lips.
"No, Just creepy and very stubborn." He replied, unfazed. "I like the hair." He continued and emerged from the tree. "But you really shouldn't have tried so hard." He arched an eyebrow obnoxiously.
They stopped and hiding in the tree's shadow, they looked at each other and smiled. They dropped the call and pocketed their phones.
"Nice come back." Annabelle commented.
"Nice face." Somtoo replied with a wink, turned to and moved to a hidden corner to fetch the basket of snacks and the backpack that contained blankets and several other necessities.
"What are those?" Annabelle asked inquisitively.
"My tools. I'm prepared to take your heart with me when going home. That's the only organ I'm interested in; but not to sell but rather to keep." He responded with a cheesy smile and had dropped his lines poetically, but Annabelle scrunched her nose.
"If there is more of that creepiness coming, I will be on my way home already."
Somtoo lifted his hands in surrender and said, "Sorry." then mime
Continue Reading Crumpled Papers.
Then why would you be sad about that? " I asked, my interest was piqued. "do you not think your future would be good? "
"I don't think you'd understand whatever I say, even if I do. "
"What? "
Koby nodded. "Look, I'm not trying to argue here but you females have a much easier life."
I was angry that he would say that. "No one has it easy."
"You think? You really think that compared to men, you females have it hard? "
"I'm sure that's not what I said. I'm just saying that nothing is easy for anyone? "
"It's not the same. While we young lads have to think of how to make it in life, so that the wives we are yet to meet and the children who are not yet born can enjoy and live life comfortably. "
"And who told you that we women only want to be trophy wives? Women work hard these days and can support their husbands. It's men who have let their ego in the way. So they have refused to see things clearly. It's obvious to me that you are one of those men. You're blinded by the need to show that you are a man that you forget that you are not alone in your marriage. Your wife is there. She'd work also and support you. Support the family."
Koby raised his hand and laughed. "Technically, I am. I am not married yet oh. "
"You know what I mean. " I smiled. "I think because of the way society is, men forget that they are not the only ones in a family."
"But we are society." Koby whispered, leaning against the wall. "you and me. We are society."
I smiled. "Then it is our duty to set things right. To understand what really matters. To see the truth."
He scoffed. "It's not so easy here in Nigeria. You know from quite a young age, parents set their minds to preparing their girls to look for rich men to wed, and boys and told to go out and hustle. We often feel that if we do not begin to make it now, then at age twenty six, it's too late, because that's the age most of us want to get married and start our families. "
Koby swallowe and looked up at the moon. "I feel like I h
Continue Reading Annihilation
“Women eh?” he says. This, unfortunately, catches our pugilists’ attention.
“Excuse me, who are you?” Elienai snipes, and my inward self winces in empathy.
Yinka raises his arms in defence. “I’m just saying that you ladies have only just met, and you’re fighting already. You’ll never catch guys doing that.”
“That is inaccurate, but unsurprising seeing as all men share similar primal instincts and base intelligence,” Voke weighs in with a killer combo.
“Ah ahn. You've forgotten your owner is a man too, Voke?” Yinka says.
“Don't drag me into this o,” I say quickly. “I didn't send you message in the first place.”
Yinka feigns a hurt look and we all get a healthy laugh. Elienai soon stops, a serious look on her face.
“I noticed you called Voke a lady, Yinka,” she says.
“What?”
“A lady. A person. You gendered Voke.”
“Yeah, I don’t discriminate based on personhood or the lack of it. Besides, I’m a robot boy.”
“A robot boy, you mean you’re bionic?” Elienai sounds stunned.
“Yep. My entire central nervous system.”
Elienai looks to me for confirmation, and I nod. It was one of the reasons I hired him in the first place. One of the many children born during the Great Woe, severe birth defects meant he had little chance of survival outside of biocybernetic surgery. There wasn't a lot of success, many bodies rejected the implants, and the ones who survived were singled out, ogled, and feared.
“I haven't met a living bionic person before,” Elienai continues. “How have you coped?”
If I didn't know her better, I would have dismissed her excitement as the ravings of another ignoramus. Can you lift a car? Do you have laser vision?
“We aren't that many around. But there are more of us here, than anywhere else in the Southwest. There are more specialists here, so my health is taken care of. Not a lot of people know I'm bionic, so I don't get asked stupid questions. I have a cool employer, an awe
Continue reading The Scars That Remains.
her hand trembles
as she strokes the note
letter by letter
word by word
her thoughts weigh
on her conscience
diverse voices at war
in the vacuum of her mind
the streams from her eyes
taint the dog-eared page
of the note in her hand
blotting the inscription in ink
the spears from the mouths
of her bipolar mom and
uncaring dad won't pierce
through her anymore
a storm brews in her heart
the thunderclaps following
alongside flashes of lightning
ripping her piece by piece
till there is nothing left
but long lost memories,
a battalion of had I knowns
and a crappy suicide note
she was blamed, even in death
for abandoning the same
people who left her first,
she'd wished them unhappy holidays
Read The Scars That Remains: [https://pabpub.com/r/e8/?rdr=https://pabpub.com/books/364]
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Asiya
“Welcome to your new home, Queen Asiya, my soon to be wife”, Mr.
Debayo said at once, sending chills throughout my body.
“This isn‟t my home”, I found myself saying. “My home is with my family and they will find me and save me."
“Ahh, you‟ve found your voice. You see, we are far away from Aftown and soon, your family will quit looking for you. We would have married and consummated our marriage by then, I assure you, my dear. As for your little fiancé, he is being taken care of as we speak and he is not long for this world”. His eyes shone with unadulterated evil as he spoke, and my skin began to crawl. Before I could think twice, I broke free and made for the door, running as fast as my long legs could carry me. I stopped short when I got to the door, for two tall, muscled men in shades had materialized at the entrance. Each held my hand and dragged a crying me back to where Mr. Debayo was standing. His grin had been replaced by an impassive expression, and his eyes had turned ice cold.
As tears streamed down my face, he took my chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing me to look into his eyes.
“Make so much as an attempt to escape and you will not be around to bury your family”. He waited for his words to elicit the desired reaction and when my eyes got as wide as saucers, my lips quivering, his grin returned.
“You may not be alive to tell the tale too”, he added. “Take her to her room.”
I woke up early the next day with puffy eyes and a blotchy face in a room more beautiful than any I had ever seen. The bed was a gorgeous queen sized bed and everything from the drapes to the rug were to my taste and I could not help but wonder if he had made the effort to find out how I like my room, and how he did it. It however, did nothing to allay my fears. I mustered all the strength I had and walked to the bathroom to perform ablution and pray the dawn prayer. Once I finished, I lay helplessly on the prayer mat and bawled, remember
Kowatis Diary
We got private with the texts we shared.
Emojis do deceive but when I called, your face I saw and your laugh I heard.
It wasn't the most beautiful thing but it was peculiar,
It was a sound I promised to evoke from you in times ahead.
A few weeks in and you told me
It was hard to imagine your day without me
And I confessed truly that your DM was where I now lived
With your resident's permit, of course.
It was cheeky but you loved it.
It might have seemed flippant but I meant it.
Read Kowatis Diary: https://pabpub.com/r/Rs/?rdr=https://pabpub.com/books/346]
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Fun and Games
He remembered Taiye, the damsel with long silky ebony hair, with flawless nose bridge, and pink lips. She had been standing lonely when she caught his attention but acted rude once he got closer to introduce himself. Her twin sister was more accomodating than she was.
Is this Taiye or Kehinde? I just want to confirm. I remember giving my number to Kehinde. So, I was expecting her message.
If she was Taiye, he was surely looking forward to her ignoring him. So, he had a feeling he was going to get ignored by her again. The beeping of his phone was a surprise.
This is Taiye and I am glad to make the acquaintance of you.
Oh my! He jumped out of the armchair and jerked his hand up in a winning manner. He couldn't believe his luck that the arrogant twin messaged him. He didn't even know how to reply to her. Now, he owed Kehinde his gratitude for how she had pulled it off. He swiped through his contact list, moving to and fro the length of the office.
After the third ring, he decided to stop calling her but then she picked up.
"Hello, Fash." Her beautiful voice laced his ears, she sounded like a natural singer even when she was doing nothing but talking.
"Hello, Kenny…" how does one thank a sister for connecting him with her sister "... I mean…" he cleared his throat and moved back to sitting on the armchair running his hand over his hair. "Although you had no idea who I am or what… hmmm… what my intention was or what I can offer, you treated me like a friend.
He heard her yawn, "I am sorry to be a bit time-consuming. I just want to say thanks for putting in a good word with your sister."
When Kehinde had appeared yesterday, he was momentarily disconnected at once, they were both beautiful and he was lost for a choice. She looked exactly like Taiye except for a small cut on her jaw. It looked like something that happened a long time again but the scar was permanent.
"Seriously!" She sounded surprised. Was she not expecting her twin to get in t
