Together We Are Better
Last Sunday, I sat in church and listened to Pastor Tony teach, “Together we’re better,” he said. I thought about life with Elizabeth Ita, how together we did so many things. I thought about how I really loved working alone. “Fellowship together, socialize together, study together, pray together…” Pastor Tee kept teaching. I said okay, maybe I’d learn to work with others then. Not that I don’t work with others o! People disappoint too much and can’t be so trusted, so I prefer doing solo work. Fast forward to three days later. I thought I could do a certain assignment alone but alas, I nearly died of frustration because I had no idea what to do. I asked Lola, Vera, Isaac and Julius for help. All disappointments! Nobody wanted to help. Everyone claimed not to know if the answer was in the textbook or if it was on Google. I…
I’ve Got My Love Now by Mira Morah
I just want someone to hug, and I’m wondering if it’s too much to ask for. I’m not sure I can ever remember a time in my life when I woke up sad every morning and turned in even sadder, every night. This is the first time I’ve chosen to be honest with myself or anyone. To tell the truth and to not run away, only to come back more scared. And so, I opened up my heart and let him in. I can’t remember doing such a thing until he came. I’ve always enjoyed the bliss that comes with solitude but now, I don’t think I want to enjoy that bliss any longer. I just want someone to hug, and I’m wondering if it’s too much to ask for. My parents believe in God. I used to, maybe I still do. I’m not sure, so I’ve prayed to whosoever…
A Boubou For Momma
I see them hanging on a rope — all so beautiful. “Five-Five hundred Naira!” The seller announces from behind his wares of beautiful boubous and dresses. I’m thinking of momma, all she’s done for me. “Five-Five hundred Naira only!” He announces again. The black boubou with a butterfly motif catches my eyes. It’s pretty. I glance at my purse and I wish I could afford it. It doesn’t matter the cost. I know she would be overjoyed if I got it for her. But I can’t afford it, I simply can’t. So, I walk away. – Mirabelle Morah
Waking up in Biafra
I wrote this story exactly when I was 16 and put it on my first blogspot account, as inspired by Chimamanda Adichie’s book, Half Of A Yellow Sun. I opened my eyes and there I was, standing in the middle of chaos. Disorder everywhere. People running Helterskelter, babies crying, women screaming. I wish I could say that I didn’t know what was happening but someone had already secretly whispered into my ears what was going on. Amidst all the running, I met an old man under an almond tree. He let me pick up some almonds. I was afraid to pick them all, I wanted to leave some behind for the hungry people running for their lives as well . Boom! I heard it. A few meters away from me, a house was on fire. Another Boom! And the nearby birds joined in the flight for safety. In all the…
Too Many Friends Too Many Wahala by Mira Morah
Keep yourself going with this quote. Sometimes, we need people to direct us in life. “So many friends so many wahalas. The caliber of friends you have also matter.” Let me tell you a small story, if you want to listen to it anyway. I have a friend called Anthony Alaribe. Sometimes I wonder where he gets all his knowledge from. He seems to know everything about everything, he knows even more about literature than I do and he’s a programmer. (Come on! Not fair!) Every time I stay with Anthony, I learn a billion new things. I wonder if he ever learns anything from me (laughs). All I do is listen while he teaches me. This friend inspires me. So, do you have any friends who inspire you as well? Yours truly, Mira Morah.
This is The Compelling Reason Why I Smile The Way I Do :)
Growing up people asked why I liked to smile the way I did. Upper gums visible, upper and lower teeth visible, cheekbones high and eyes almost squinting. So I thought it was bad to smile that way. I felt awkward every time I unconsciously smiled or laughed. “Mira you, you’ll laugh and open all your teeth, ” my friends used to tell me in secondary school—I’m laughing as I remember this. Then I made the mirror my home and began to practice How to Smile. I tried to smile without my teeth showing. I tried to smile and let only my upper teeth show while trying to avoid my gum from being visible. I even tried to smirk but ah! All these were a waste of time. The awkward feeling even became worse when someone told me how big my nose became each time I smiled. The agony! Why? Oh…
THE WRITER’S FRUSTRATION
I’m restless… I want to write! I pick up my pen,I pick up my paper But there are no words! Everything is in disarray. Where have the words flown to? Why can’t I write? What’s happening to me? I’m losing it! Nothing seems to be working No muse is effective Everything is muddled up in my head It’s like this: I scream, I write a little I scream some more and then I tear up the paper Arghh!! It’s exhausting! I’m exhausted!! By Nten Mpama
Short Story: Terror in The Woods
Olaedo was not from a rich home. In fact, his father was a poor palm wine tapper who met his untimely death just a few months after Olaedo was born. Not withstanding, one could say Olaedo grew up with a silver spoon. He had a wealthy godmother, who took it upon herself to see Olaedo through school. After his biological mother died when he was three years old, Olaedo’s godmother immediately brought him to Paris where he grew up. He grew up a happy child amongst her children. There were numerous times when he forgot that his godmother wasn’t his real mother. Well, his problems began when he turned seventeen. Strange day-mares, if they can be called so, became his daily bread. As he sat in his philosophy and logic class one sunny afternoon, he fell into a queer trance in which he saw himself walking in a woodland. It…
Short Story: Poisoned
I just couldn’t stand all their noise and palaver. I never wanted to be the kind of girl to get married, have kids, have trouble with my husband, divorce and leave broken kids behind. No! Been there, felt that. So I’d often toyed with the idea of not getting married at all. I knew I could get married and not have children, but I wanted my own kids and I didn’t want them to go through the hell I went through with my parents. I couldn’t bear the noise any longer. It seemed my earphones couldn’t drown their noise and yells as well as the shatters. I didn’t want to get emotional, so I got up from my bed, went straight for my drawer and picked up my Beats by Dre headphones. The bass tone would’ve been enough to shut out the noise even from a drone. Tears slid down…
How I Killed My Sister
I was 7 years older than her. She was 9 and I was 16. She had round blue eyes & long blonde hair. I had dark eyes with short black hair. I hated the fact that everyone loved her. My parents paid more attention to her than they did to me so I was never at home, but rather with my friends whom I felt at home with and rather accepted. Whenever my little sister came to my room, with the hatred I had for her I screamed at her and told her to go play with her dolls. At school, my friends and I always made fun of her. One day, at home, during dinner she brought out a little piece of paper and handed it to me smiling charmingly. She asked me to open it. I thought it was childish and useless to look at the paper so…
Flashback to My Exam Experience this Semester
When I woke up, my room was dark. I didn’t want to wakeup. I only wanted to keep sleeping, keep sleeping and have a ghost read for and write my exams for me. The time on my phone showed 3- something-a.m. Neither of my alarms had made me proud. Four more days hunnie, I tried to trick my lazy bones into getting up. I picked up my note on Survey of English Literature; I couldn’t read a single thing. I couldn’t understand. Not that I couldn’t comprehend, I just couldn’t understand. I couldn’t understand why I couldn’t understand what I was reading. The frustration set in, then the fear, and finally the tears. The course was a simple one, just a couple of stories and poems and analysis of texts, texts probably older than my ancestors. But notwithstanding, the fear was real. I flew back to the memories of my…
What Goes On In My Thoughts
Am I the only one that thinks I get it all wrong almost all the time? I know I can’t be the only one that feels this way. Like, where next? Am I right to miss this opportunity? Is it actually the right thing to do now? Some days, I wish I’d been born with an entire map of every decision and choice which I should actually make at every point and step in my life. Do you also notice how everything God doesn’t like is actually where we head towards? Then some days, I fear that I’m not dreaming big enough. I fear that education and reality are stifling my mind. Only exposing me to already established facts, but not to the unexplored terrains of the vast and creative richness of my imaginations. I know nothing so everyday I pray, Help me. It’s always what I ask Him, everyday.…
Short Story: Gone
My bag is packed, she says in her mind, but I can hear her loud and clear. The most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid my turquoise eyes upon ever since I was a cub. I love you and I don’t want you to leave, but you just have to, I say to her in my mind. She packs her hair into a bun and ties it round with a black scarf—I love black. I love her —but she can’t hear me. I wish she could feel the rhythm of my heartbeats, the way I can feel hers right now. Boom.. Boom boom.. Boom.. Boom Boom, It goes and I love the sound of it. Each time we cuddle during the cold rainy nights, her heart beats just once every five minutes. She used to feel safe with me. I was once her angel’s wings. “I’m ready to leave now.” She…