Bliss resort

 – By Obinna Ejide ‘Who’s that shouting?’ ‘Mama Bisi!  Oh my God, Blacky!’ ‘Jehovah! Blacky! ‘Blacky stop! Blacky!!!’ The black beast had already sprung upon the woman. I released my grip on the bars behind the window in the parlour where mother and I were standing and dashed towards the exit, galloping down the staircase that led to the ground floor. I could still hear mother’s screams at the black beast from upstairs as I tore along our compound towards the main gate where Blacky held Mama Bisi hostage on the ground. Mama Bisi’s cast was trembling painted in the dust. Her head tie became Blacky’s socks as the beast dragged its feet away from Mama Bisi, the end of her waist wrapper in its mouth and its head beating in the air sideways as its tail waggled along in consonance. ‘Blacky stop it!’  I barked and raised my hand to smack him. The beast cringed, whimpering as it walked away, into its cage with its tail-suspended between its hind legs. ‘Are you...

 – By Nwachukwu Obinna “Omo nna!” I heard my sister, Joanne’s voice from the balcony. I was in the sitting room watching Scooby Doo, my favorite cartoon. Mum was in the kitchen, cooking, and Dad was in the toilet. Joanne’s second yell pulled me away from the couch where I sat in the living room in a flash and out to the balcony. I chuckled as I watched him pass by. “Isi ara!” I exclaimed, unable to restrain myself. He let out an austere countenance as he looked up, shifting his gaze over to our direction. He paused for a moment, briefly looking at us with a stern expression and later returned his movement. I laughed out loudly as I watched him move, counting his steps as he walked. I was ten years old, and Joanne was thirteen. Our ridicule then transformed into a habit. We would stand on our balcony daily, waiting for him to pass by. He usually does, because our house was just two houses away from where he lived, with his Aunt. He was a mockery of us both and for the...

 – By Tolulope Being a quiet child isn’t bad, but when children are too quiet parents and guardians need to create a bond of confidence and trust with them. This wasn’t the case with Philip and his parents. They were barely home neither did they have time for the young lad as he went through a horrific experience in school. His parents found it convenient sending him to an expensive boarding school; after all, they had the money. He slept everyday dreadfully waiting to hear sneaky footsteps walking in, feeling the strong hands of somebody constantly molesting him sexually night after night and perceiving the smell of garlic as he whispered the terrifying words close to his ears “I’ll kill you if you tell anyone”. He lived like this for over 6 months and refused to mention it to anybody including his friend, roommates, school father and parents. But how could he, the constant threat of being murdered if he revealed it echoed in his subconscious mind. Philip started to l...

By Ola Vincent Omotade He promised me his future, He promised me his dreams. He promised to walk me down the aile He told me he was gonna love me with his last blood That he's gonna love me with his all. I was already seeing myself all in his future Oh.. poetry can't explain how much I was drunk in his love, staggering  till the last moment I told myself I will never love anyone again But now "he's gone" I don't mean dead no no .. he his still alive opposite my valley of HOPE I mean he is GONE like GONE He left me for a reason , a reason not even worth it. my hibiscus looks so terrible in his iris now,  a flower he has once watered in his unguarded garden. Now the thought of him and how much he promised to love me eternally kept me bound.. why did you loved him to earth when he smirked you with sweetened words of honey?  my friends asked. Do not blame me  I was only loving and was drawn in the siege of Love Should I say he nev...

By Ruqquayah Immorality is becoming part of our personality, culture and norms in our society. Illegitimate habits becomes a thing of fame, displayed as an emblem without shame. Our society no longer cares about integrity. With no regards to humanity's sanctity. Immorality is been celebrated, when victims are not prosecuted. While indecency is tolerated, modesty is known to be outdated. Beauty is now a  measure of nudity. Even religious homes are  filled with immorality. The youths are no longer dreaming "innocentee". They now force their  dreams into reality. How much more can I describe our societies, a world of countless  conundrum entities. Father no longer own his son. For the street now fathers his actions. What a world of pitiful scenes Death is now buyable by the teens. It's indeed now a chaotic world. All I can ask for is mercy from God. -sponsored by progressed poetic association

By Ola Vincent Omotade  Love takes and gives, Never gets longer or shorter Blindfolded in pains, Friends turn down against world closes OPPORTUNITIES. Death brings forth it fruits, all in the name of LOVE. LOVE, LOVE again I repeat never be captured by it Broken heart (heart broken) Thoughts (wild thoughts) Over protection, oh am abducted No love  love no heart, Friend gets too old. never being loved, being cold Love again that shot gets older No relating,  no new friends brokenness sets in drug creeps at back bad live hood comes thereafter. Just  for love, I can't  say this But I hate the day I came in Father ain't there, mother ain't neither. Left under the pit forgotten,  once there ain't  no LOVE GOD please help Lead me, Guide me though I feel left out, not being like LOVED But I know this gets better off once day AMEN!!!! I feel hated down my viens, Sometimes I believe death is the best ...

 – By Earl Okezie Many Nigerians who are not Igbos really don’t understand why Igbos make it a must to return to their ancestral homes during festive periods. Personally, I’ve countless times asked this same question too – why the craze to go home at Christmas regardless of the cost and the hazards? Now I know. For the Igbos, returning home at such times provides an opportunity to reconnect with the land, traditions, and cultures they left behind in search of green pastures. In fact, I vi sited a family who having left their home under lock and key for a while, spent a large portion of the holidays clearing and tidying up their compound overtaken by weeds and grasses because everyone simply left home in search of bread and butter. It’s a time to reconnect with relations and long seen friends. It’s a time parents with grown up daughters show them off for possible suitors. I was at a family function where the woman showed off her pretty daughter via deliberate introducti...