The Adventures of Nihu

This novel is a classic legend of a young hero’s magical journey through a fantasy world where he is tested with incredible challenges that can only stem from the soul of the author’s genuine African culture and vivid imagination. Being falsely accused of a crime, Nihu, a tribal African boy, is banished to the Lonely Forest. In order to regain his freedom, he must find a way to defeat the unbeatable and confront challenges that draw analogies to our own realities. Like The Lord of the Rings, this epic high fantasy novel carries the reader to another time and place. Nihu gets sucked into a world inside of a stone, visits a powerful ruler in an underwater city, and befriends a group of refugees. The Adventures of Nihu will not only allow an audience of all ages to escape their own realities, but draw them into a world of high hopes, powers, and unimaginable desires.

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WORK IN PROGRESS: The Dark World by Omoruyi Uwuigiaren

It is cruel to negotiate some roads. One could spend several hours and who cares if you die trying. It is a silencer. It hurts. It could bring a man to his knees. The loser is a meal to the bald vultures. In the weakness, I was strong, tough and mean.

Regularly counting the cost of my valor has helped my poor soul to tread cautiously. My loss if I ever had any was taken into consideration because smart people draw strength from their fall. The cost of finishing strong and staying alive against all odds is mine to bear.

I drove through Lawanson road, an old narrow way leading off Itire and I had my first sight of the Palace of the Itire Monarch. It was old-fashioned. It was African with a fine red painted threshold. It was old. Things had changed. Here the more things change, the more they stay the same.

Every day is a journey. The day we close our eyes upon the light of the world, the journey ends. Most times, it is out of our hands to choose how we will embrace the next world. There are forces that rule in the affair of men but fate would place a man where he truly belongs.

Now I am on a journey that looks like a formality. Sadly, in this ever-changing world, there are no formalities. We only have change and challenges and a reasonable man must bend any circumstance to his favour.  

READ:Las' Las' We'll Be All Right by Joy Isi Bewaji

The Lawanson road connects Oshodi-Apapa expressway. If you are in a hurry to embrace silence and get out of a third world misery, you are welcome to this part of the world. You can never have enough of the misfortune on this highway. Trucks queue on both sides, trapped in a constant battle to outsmart one another. There are dilapidated buildings along the road and their numbers scary.

Most of the buildings have no occupants because they are like a dead man bound by horrible tradition that made it difficult for his people to commit him to mother earth without any offence. The cost of maintenance and travelling back and forth from the buildings would leave a deep hole in any pocket. The implications are damning and grievous. Weight of which tied to a large man and tossed overboard a ship into the sea would drown him. Death has no joy.  

No matter how frugal, miserly or clever a man is, he can hardly recover all of the loss of wasting his time. You cannot live out your life in happiness in a city that is poorly organized. It is bad and tragedy to born in such a place.  

The beauty of the city is only a figment of some people’s imagination. The city is overrated. Bizarrely awkward and could cut any destiny short. It is delusional and fraud to put yourself where you are not. Paradise is arguably city of excellence. Is Lagos paradise?

Sanity is a very expensive commodity. You risk raising weak people. When weak people are more in number, they are powerful. If unhindered, they could also raise for themselves a leader. You will think like the people with whom you spend most of your time. The world will perish under the feet of the weak.

The gridlock never dies. The dark nights never end. There is no charity in the air. The cruel hands of fate snatched it. In those buildings are economic losses. Weakness is also borne out of stress. There is no point to prove. You can never live out your life in happiness and freedom in a city under siege. It is tragedy to train up a child in this creepy kind of place.

It is easy to be a prophet of doom when the young men emerging from the college after a hard five years were faced by a world indifferent to their enthusiasm and bursting knowledge. Results that is never palatable. Those who lack courage and a will to survive, leaves the troubled world behind. Others take to vices, which leaves them less human.

Trying to live at all cost, they end up paying the price. The cost of breaking the law far outweighs the price of obeying it. The horror stories of heartless and vicious people cannot be undermined. Tales by young people who managed to secure employment only make one hardened and embattled.

Some were just little bits of dirt to be starved and worked into the ground by the employers who are heartless. There is never a day off. Some to wash the car, dig the garden, feed the dogs, and push trucks and do family shopping for the boss. What about others who are forced to render services to keep their job? Many stretched beyond limit, broken and left for dead. No human is carved out of stones.

  

NEW BOOK: Las' Las' We'll Be All Right by Joy Isi Bewaji

Las' Las'…It means "eventually"

"Eventually what?" You may ask.

Eventually, all will be well.

"How?"

We are not sure.

"When?"

 Nobody knows.

But "God dey sha."

That comforting clause that soothes us as we move from day to day and one "las las" to the next. There are not many solutions here. We have been struggling with the same issues from the beginning of creation—bad roads, no potable water, poor education, shameless corruption, poor health system, the list is endless.

What do we do? We do not seem to know. Dying for the country is out of it. Nobody will remember your name, how much more remember what you died for.

Jollof rice is a more interesting topic. It is all we have. It is all we fight for.

Las' Las' We'll Be All Right

AMAZON

HAPPY READING!

Work in Progress: “Linda Castro” from the Pretty Woman by Omoruyi Uwuigiaren

One beautiful morning, there was no power supply and the very thought of it makes me feel sick. As I fought gallantly to grab hold of my miserable soul, a lady who had been in a man’s life, and had been bruised long enough to know that life is in phases and men are in sizes, stumbled into my office. By the time she was within my reach, sweat was pouring off her. I thought she had just come out of a pool and wanted to help herself to a clean towel.  I offered her a hand towel, which was my only benefit from a previously turbulent relationship with a woman who thought humbling a man would earn her a trophy.

There are dark people who take advantage of the weak. Once they smell blood, they go for the kill. The meal is stretched and made to go through the hole of a needle. I was a victim who rode on the back of a poor judgment. I thought I was a protagonist and the show was all about me. Painfully, my victory only existed in the fabric of my imagination. You can take advantage of people, especially a troubled mind, and they won’t care. Because they are blinded by their truckload of misfortune, they become mentally weak. A man who is ignorant is deficient.  So in order to survive public life, it is in our best interest to hide our imperfections.

She was terror and our romantic escapade illustrates the need for better grasp of this ever changing world. She took my dignity and served it to her bald vultures. She wore the trousers. The woman was given free rein and it leaves me with short quick movements from side to side or up and down until she pulled out the plug and the water drained away. She was in control of the monument between my legs and she responded tremendously to my breathtaking strokes. I could not resist her charm and the tenderness of her lips made me quiver at her feet. I could not resist her because she has a very savoury reputation that was taller than the pair of legs that carried me. She was strong and I was weak. Don’t cry for me. This is not a spell. She is only a woman who knew how to bring a man to his knees. She rode me in my weakness and pounded me as if there was no tomorrow. It was pleasure to bleed in her secret place and under her shadow were riches that only existed in the fabrics of my imagination. She always wanted to see me bleed and have her face covered in my own blood. Until death snatched her, she remained my strength.

Now, in my office was a woman that reminded me of the past. She reluctantly took the hand towel. She pulled the seat at the other side of the table and sank into it. She came for business. It was tough because she had no underwear to cover and support her breasts. This was reckless and my eyes betrayed me. They made me vulnerable and exposed my weakness to a woman that I was seeing for the first time. My large innocent eyes were properly entertained. Beauty is not cheap. It comes with a price!

She was elegant and her face shone like the rising sun. A man, whatever estate he occupies in this bizarre world, is trapped in a woman’s world to his untimely end or victory. I love nature. Life gives you everything including uncertainties but in the humble path of nature are hope and assurance. She was a gift from the gods and she knew that her beauty had swept me off my miserable feet.

“I guess you are Larry?”

“Yes, oh yes!” I nodded my head almost a million times.

There was silence momentarily. She swallowed hard and her eyes travelled round my office. I could hardly tell what was happening in her mind. Apparently, satisfied with what she had seen so far, she breathed deeply and then returned her gaze to me. Our eyes met as her face broke into a gap toothed smile. “I have read some of your books. You are a prolific writer,” she said and nodded gently.

“Thank you,” an exaggerated smile paraded my face. “What can I offer you?”

“Nothing! I want to do business with you. I am a book distributor,” she said. Chewing her lower lips, she threw out a question, “Do you treat people kindly?”

“Ah,” I chuckled and sat up. “I am not an angel but it all depends on what you want. “First, I don’t understand what you mean by treating people kindly.”

“As you know,” she leaned forward; exposing her breasts and it caused a commotion between my legs. “A woman needs attention…”

I interjected. “Everybody needs attention. However, we expect our workers to adhere to the company’s rules and regulations. We are a family here but we have limits.”

“That’s fine. You are a nice man, Larry. She glanced at her wrist watch and asked, “Can I use your rest room?”

“Yes, you can.” I pointed at the direction. She placed my hand towel on the table and slowly rose to her feet. I believe she knew what she was doing. It appears she was leading me into a trap and I was too weak to resist. If I was asked to place on a scale what I had gone through staring at the balls on her chest, they would break the scale. As she made for the door, I tried to avoid eye contact. What relevance does that mean when I was already burning inside of me?

She tried to open the door but it was locked. “Larry, the door is locked.” Her voice was as soft as a whisper.

“Oh! Sorry. I forgot that I locked it yesterday,” I remarked. I jumped to my feet and brought out the key to the door from my pocket. And then I approached her to open the door. As I got nearer, my elbow brushed her nipple and she let go a moan that filled the air.

She croaked, “Don’t get me in the mood Larry…”

I turned to her and we looked at one another in the eyes. “I am sorry. I did not mean to touch you.”

She shook her head slowly. “You got it all wrong, Larry. You just lied. You could not get your eyes off my breasts. Press the right button if you need me. Don’t burn!” She held my hands and moved them gently to her nipples. Her big tits were firm like precious stones. As I squeezed them gently, she moaned and fell on me. My guest was all over me as I managed to open the door to the rest room. We quietly entered and secured the door.

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Her interest in me was purely sexual. We kissed as if we were a match made in heaven. Before I could blink, she pinned me to the wall and squeezed my balls until I elicited an agonized cry. In the pain was the fantasy that a man would wish he gets from his own because I was in paradise led by a woman who knew her job. She broke me and revealed my lust. I was turgid and she was winning. Slowly she went down and gently pulled my pants down. As my trousers hung loosely to my waist, my temple was invaded by the wetness of her lips. She worked me tenderly. She landed every single blow with precision until I walked into fantasy land. I was trapped in the realm and could not escape from the reality that my temple was under siege. As she pulled slowly back and forth, my phone rang….

FLINZ

Dag and the other cats made their way down the silent street in an effort to find the second course of their dinner. Unconcerned, they strolled down Maxwell Street, the home of Flinz, a notorious cat who was feared by the entire feline population of the city. It was rumored that Flinz’s breath could kill a dove!
Maxwell Street lay in the belly of discomfort, and its ugliness was there for all eyes to see. The streetlights were dim; they had seen better days. The buildings, too, were swimming in the pool of old age and begging for renovation. Parts of the old street were overrun with rats and mice—meals that poor Dag and friends would normally have found promising but tonight lay beyond their reach and strength. 
The cats were tired from their long walk, so they rested a short distance from a shopping mall, which housed the finest buildings on the old street. But just as they settled down, Flinz emerged from behind a cracked old fence and stole past Dag and the others. He dashed into the mall, almost unnoticed, to commit what had earned him the nickname ‘the notorious cat’. After a few minutes inside the mall, Flinz found some groceries on a shelf and lost his balance trying to reach the food. Blaize was the first to be alerted. “What’s that?” he asked with a grimace.

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Dag raised his head and glanced about. “I don’t know.” His voice revealed his caution.
Fred cleared his throat and said, “It could be a thief!” He exchange glances with the others.
“You may be right,” said Blaize. “Let’s go see who the criminal is,” he suggested, and faced the mall with a good speed. The other cats followed, flinging glances in every direction to make sure that no one was on their trail. As soon as they got to the mall, Blaize signaled his friends to stop. Before they could blink, Blaize climbed up to one of the half-open windows and peered inside. There was Flinz, feasting on the groceries! A ray of anger flushed over Blaize’s face. Returning to his friends, he reported, “We have an enemy in there!”
“Who?” Dag probed, simpering.
“It’s Flinz!” Blaize replied. 
“Who is Flinz?” asked Pork.
“Flinz lives on the street that leads to the train station. It is said that he once ate an animal that had been sacrificed by humans, and is now immersed in a pool of misfortune. After losing his fine attributes, he withdrew from public life and became a terror to the people.”
“What a pity. Life is no bed of roses!” Dag said, and turned to go.
“No! We must fight him!” Blaize proclaimed. “The wicked soul killed my brother after they had a heated argument over a piece of meat in the market square. And I have vowed to avenge my brother’s death. There is no better time to do so than this beautiful night. Then my brother’s death will have had a purpose!”
Dag now recalled the sad story. “Yes, I remember. Wasn’t it the cat you told me about that lived in the train station?”
“Yes!” Blaize responded. “And that was four days ago.”
Then Pork offered a jewel of advice: “You’d best forget about Flinz and mind your business. I don’t think vengeance is the way to handle this issue.”
Blaize reacted, “Check my face and read my lips, and you will see that nothing can stop me tonight, Pork. My brother cannot have died for nothing!”
“Pork is right,” Dag interjected. “We came here to find a befitting meal for the night, not to battle. Don’t allow this issue into your head, my friend.” The elderly cat pulled Blaize to his side.
Blaize shoved him off. “You don’t know how it hurts to lose a brother. My brother was my best friend and was everything to me.” Tears gathered in his eyes as Blaize moved away. Before Dag and the other cats could make a move, Blaize had disappeared through the window and was received by the treachery inside the mall.
There was a momentary silence as Blaize advanced to the corner where Flinz was having a one-cat party. Red with rage, Blaize shouted, “You are a wicked soul, and your madness ends today!”
Raising his head, Flinz cleared his throat as a queer look paraded over his face, “Why call me such a name on a cold night, my poor friend?”
“I see that you have forgotten that you killed my brother!”
Flinz pushed his meal to one side, and tried to recall who the fellow was, but he could not remember. So he fixed his gaze on Blaize: “I have no memory for an ugly past. Maybe my mind is playing tricks on me. Who exactly is your brother?” 
“Don’t tell me that you have forgotten the fellow you slew at the market square some months ago!”
“Oh, yes… Now I remember. But it is one of those things. Brother killing brother and so forth,” Flinz replied unrepentantly and went back to his meal.
“I have vowed to avenge my brother’s death.”
After swallowing a lump, Flinz replied, “You don’t have to announce it. Let your actions speak for you. But I will advise you to refrain from vengeance, because it is not in our power to take life.”
“But you killed my brother!”
“Yes. But I never wanted to. He refused to let me have my way. And that was why I sent him to the silent world. Now, please go away. Sometimes I lose my temper and find myself going against my nature in circumstance such as this one.”
“No! I refuse to leave!” The arched back and bristling fur demonstrated Blaize’s aggression; his tail was confidently upright and his rear stood firm, while the front of his body retreated and his fur stood straight up to make him look bigger than he actually was. He was certainly ready to give Flinz a good fight.
Flinz chuckled. “So you want to fight me? Do not add your death to this tragedy, my friend. Leave here!” Flinz ordered. He crouched low, not ready to submit, with chin tucked in, ears turned to show their backs and whiskers forwarded and ready to face the threat. 
Blaize started the fight with a fierce blow that caught Flinz on the neck. But just as he pressed his advantage, and no eye was watching, he made a slash across the cat’s right cheek and some whiskers were lost. Blaize let out with an agonized cry as they shared blows from one end of the store to the other. However, it was only a matter of time before the advantage shifted to Flinz, and Blaize tasted frustration that night. Flinz had left Blaize devastated, then dashed out of the mall and raced towards the train station for all he was worth. Before Blaize could even blink, his enemy was gone. 
Not long after, Dag, Pork and Fred rushed to the scene where Blaize had received the beating of his life. Dag was the first to speak. “Where is Flinz?” 
Blaize pointed towards the train station and managed to croak, “There!” There was no strength left in him.
Pork and Fred tried to give chase, but before they could get out of the mall, Flinz had disappeared into thin air. With darkness hanging around the corner, and disappointment taking its toll, they shook their heads in disbelief and returned to the store. As a matter of fact, Blaize had yet to shrug off the injury he’d suffered at the hands of Flinz. “You were not prepared for the fight, Blaize.” Pork said.
That much was true. Later, they could discuss how to cut the bully down to size, but for now Dag helped the injured Blaize to his feet. “We must leave now,” said Dag. But just as they made for the window that was halfway open, they were alarmed by a strange sound from the street. “What’s that?” Pork took cover behind one of the shelves.
“Sssh! Keep your voice low,” Dag warned as, one after another, they scaled the window only to witness a bizarre occurrence that was taking place under the gloomy eyes of the silent night. On the street was a man being mobbed by a crowd of people. One after another they rained down their clubs upon the man until at last he lay gasping and choking. His head rolled to one side as life itself faded from his lips. After the assault was over, and after all the belongings of the dead man had been placed in the pockets of his assailants, the mob disappeared into the night.
“What have they done?” Pork inquired incredulously.
“Can’t you see that they just beat a man dead?” Blaize replied.
Dag shook his head in dismay. “What a wicked world! Humans do not value life as we do. No cat I know could be that brutal!”
But Blaize had something different to say: “What about Flinz? Is there any difference between that scoundrel and the mob?” 
“Flinz is a bad example, and his days are numbered,” Dag replied with a frown.
“I hope so,” Blaize mumbled.
Fred sighed. “I’m not so sure that the man is dead…”
“Nor am I,” Pork said. “We are too far away to assume that he has gone to meet his ancestors.”
“Let’s go and see if he is still alive,” Dag said, and led the cats to the street where the man lay in a pool of his own blood. Once they reached the scene, they were sad to see that the man had indeed walked into silence. Dag said, “This is not good. I know this man. He lives at the end of this street. I wonder why he’s come home so late today.”
“That is not the issue, Dag. No one has the right to take his life. Like every citizen of this land, each man has the right to freedom of movement,” Fred stated.
“Whatever kept him out late must have been important,” Blaize said.
“Only God knows. If humans would take security seriously, this man would have returned unharmed to his house,” Pork said. He sighed a long sigh.
A momentary silence hung in the air as the cats stared at the poor soul. Not long after, thunder crashed in the sky and it began to rain. “I’ve heard enough for today,” Dag announced and walked away. The elderly cat climbed the roof of one of the buildings and disappeared. The other cats knew that venturing further into the treacherous night was not the best idea, so they followed the path of their old friend.