Monday, 25 July 2016

The Bride Price By Chinua Achebe.

Obierika then presented to him a small bundle of short broomsticks. Ukegbu counted them.

“They are thirty?” he asked.

Obierika nodded in agreement.

“We are at last getting somewhere,” Ukegbu said, and then turning to his brother and his song he said: ‘Let us go out and whisper together.’ The three rose and went outside. When they returned Ukegbu handed the bundle of sticks back to Obierika. He counted them; instead of thirty there were only fifteen. He passed them over to his eldest brother, Machi, who also counted them and said:

“We had not thought to go below thirty. But as the dog said, ‘If I fall down for you and you fall down for me, it is play’. Marriage should be a play and not a fight; so we are falling down again.” He then added ten sticks to the fifteen and gave the bundle to Ukegbu.

In this way Akueke’s bride-price was finally settled at twenty bags of cowries.

Culled from Chinua Achebe’s Legendary THINGS FALL APART.


Friday, 22 July 2016

White Wedding In A Black Nation. A Story By ObinnaNnamdi.

“…so Dike when are we expecting the white wedding, you know it’s been a month since the traditional marriage, you have left everyone in wondering contemplation” Frank asked as he reached for the bottle of red win to refill his glass cup.
Dike stopped his drink half way, lowered the glass cup from his mouth and asked Frank, feigning ignorance “Which wedding are you talking about”
“Yours now, abi you will just do only traditional marriage and go and start making babies?”
Now Dike let out a smirk, then he dropped the glass cup half filled with wine on the beautifully calved wooden side stool standing by the side of his exquisite leather chair, he then adjusted, now completely facing Frank
“Let me tell you something my friend, I’m not white, so why will I need to do a white wedding? you don’t see white people going about doing black wedding before they consider themselves man and wife. You know this mental slavery have gone deeper than you and I can understand”
“You have started with this your slavery talk again” Frank rebuffed almost immediately “it is this same careless freedom speech that cost you the contract with FZ holdings even after your perfect proposal, I’m advising you as a concerned friend, even if it’s a low key wedding just do it and be properly recognized”
“properly recognized? Your words amaze me, I paid the complete dowry on Tade’s head, she is in my house with the permission and goodwill of her father and his kinsmen that is how it is done in our culture as Africans, which other recognition is greater than this?  and for the FZ holdings issue, I was not careless, it is the heavy clog of cultural inferiority that have clouded their reasoning, if you say otherwise, then tell me why the HR will ask for my English name when my nationality clearly stated that I’m a Nigerian, I simply told the guy that I was from Nigeria and not England so I don’t have an English name and that was it, tell me how that is being careless…”
“Ok, I agree that you were not careless, but you can’t change the world you have to just let these things go you are almost alone on this…”
“Yes, I agree” Dike cut in “I can’t change the world “but let it not be said that the world changed me.
“You see Frank, it is very important that we talk about these things, we have to keep these things in mind because from the beginning the battle have always been the battle of the mind and right now our minds appear to have been conquered, why else will one mishap from the west dominate our media space but the news of Nigerians dying every day from preventable tragic situations never make it pass the newspaper paper headline at best. Right now South Sudan is sliding into abyss, Somalia is in chaos and Libya is falling apart but Nigerians will rather tweet about Brexit and hashtag pray for France.
“Why will we call our own traditional African religion evil, refer to its followers as heathens and as if that is not enough insult, we go ahead to kill our fellow Africans in defense of a foreign religion.
“Recently I heard someone saying the ‘appropriate’ name for Garri is ‘Grain O’ fibres’ and the reason for the new name was; so that it will sound presentable, Presentable? to who? Why will we look for ‘English names’ for our own delicacies, cultivated and prepared here in Africa.
“I understand the concept of globalization, and I also know that everybody has something to bring to the table, but we Africans are always in a hurry to jettison our indigenous ways and practices for anything foreign, for so long we have mistaken Westernization for development…”
“Oya Dike sorry” Frank interrupted “Enough of the lecture, don’t do white wedding again, traditional marriage is okay, just let me have my drink in peace abeg”
Dike heaved a huge sigh, he appeared disappointed, he spoke again but this time in a lower tone “….it started from speaking the white man’s language and bearing his names, it has passed the stage of adopting his deity, now we are at the stage of trying to change our skin color to look like he’s and you still think this is about marriage, no, it is about a race and a people whose culture and identity is about to be wiped off…”

Saturday, 16 July 2016

25 Words Flash Stories By Ky_nnamdi


Pandemonium struck, kids screaming, everyone was shouting and running towards their houses, then I picked up my phone and charger and headed home. UP NEPA!
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An Arsenal fan but was happy when Chelsea scored, everyone was surprised until he brought out a paper and ticked. He had won the bet.
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Their eyes locked, he smiled, her eyes lit the sun as she smiled back, they just met but missed their steps and fell in love.
***************
Parents, siblings and fiancée on his neck, hunger his companion, just as he was about to give up, his phone rang, he got the job.
***************
Just as they finished lynching a man for stealing a piece of bread, the corrupt politician drove by, and they all showered him with praises.
*************** 
Rapper, Poet, Sociologist and a Rogue Scholar
facebook: Nonso Ky Nnamdi
twitter: nnamdi_ky

roguescholar.wordpress.com

Friday, 1 July 2016

The Rain Fell...By ObinnaDikeNnamdi

The rain fell...regardless, as if it has not heard, no! It had definitely not seen. The rain that would normally bring joy was now disrespectful. The rain fell on the pieces of flesh scattered below it, it fell on lifeless bodies of people who were bubbling with life just few minutes ago; Hassan, his younger brother Kareem, Emeka and his longtime customer Pam and a couple of other people who will just make up another news headline; ''31 die in Monday afternoon bomb blast''
Few minutes ago Hassan and Kareem were eating lunch when the weather made a dramatic twist, the hitherto bright and sunny afternoon had given way for the cloud and rumbles in the sky, quintessential Jos weather.
“kai...ka beri wanchan abinchi mu kwashe wannan kaya” Hassan commanded Kareem, the two left their happy meal to prepare for the rain, that would be their last happy meal, no, that would be their last meal ever. In the next assemblage of wood and tarpaulin that they called their ‘shop’, Pam was trying to convince Emeka to let go of the rechargeable lamp for a price Emeka considered impossible, the arrangement of the ‘shops’ indicated that it was temporal, it had to be, they had to reconstruct after every visit by the task force. The government said they were trying to decongest the area...but the will also be decongesting the stomach of the traders since they had provided them with no alternative.
“No be today I start dey come your place, just leave am for me like that, I no even plan to buy am seff, na this light wey nepa no dey bring” Pam pressed.
“Lai lai...dollar don put money, you want make I carry empty hand go house?
Pam pauses for a while and said in agreement;
''Ok, I go buy am like that, but I go bring your balance tomorrow''
''Tor, no problem'' replied Emeka.
It was that tomorrow he will not see...the events of the next second made sure of that; a deafening sound and then moments of static motion followed by a loud silence.
Davou on the other side of the road staggered to his feet after a moment of blankness...it was the bag, the bag he had refused the fine looking gentleman to drop in his shop; “you no fit trust anybody nowadays, Abeg just carry the bag dey go'' he politely told the guy just few minutes ago, but Ade in his usual benevolence agreed to look after the bag for the harmless looking lad, after all he just wanted to dash into the bank by the corner. He's hospitality was now his bane.
The explosion terminated every life within 30 meter radius, but a lot of people's will definitely have to be hospitalized. In the midst of the chaos and confusion, then came the ‘innocent’ rain, dropping with its normal flow and elegance from the high heavens, but when it reached the ground it imbibed a reckless disregard, a pause at that moment would have been perfect, a pause for the grieving to grief and the confused to comprehend.
To some, the rain that fell that day washed off the memories of their loved ones into the drains;
and to others, it washed away their sorrow, their grief and their pains
…but none of them can be said to be wrong because the same rain that fell on the bitter leaf tree also fell on the sugarcane plant.