THE LAST DELIVERY

THE LAST DELIVERY

THE LAST DELIVERY

Sam is at his window. The house is emptier than ever. He just came back from a conference on new methods of brain surgery. As usual he played a compilation of old french love songs; those songs from the 60’s have a cooling effect on his nerves and a refreshing one on his memories. Marcia… And always that name… Passing by slowly and silently like a smooth wind from the silent sea at dusk, touching and embracing his whole body. The young doctor brings up the glass of iced scotch to his lips but he doesn’t drink. He closes his eyes.

The door bell rings. He crosses the parlour where all his distinctions are proudly telling his numerous achievements. Sam has always come first and the world has always rewarded him in various domains. The bell rings a second time, but he is already opening the door. A beautiful black lady is standing in front of him with a kind of smile which opens up flowers at night. She is a perfect stranger with a familiar face. The very truth is that, Sam has never seen her before. But Sam seems to know her. And she seems to know him.

– Marcia.

– Sam.

And they stare at each other like two tigers on the verge of the final assault. The passion in their eyes is enough to express their burning desire. Marcia’s lips are half closed, thus capturing Sam’s eyes. A lady living near passes and greats Sam with a slice of jealousy in the eyes, but he doesn’t respond. He can’t even hear her. She doesn’t insist and goes her way desperately. They’re still at the doorstep getting closer. There are distances between the two pairs of lips as the flight to one another looks a whole trip. A tumultuous and breathtaking travel which keeps all the passengers waiting for something special. Something unique in a genre just like the h-hour of a party. And the lips touch, and the lips merge, and the lips melt making both bodies float like a flake of snow on a silent starry summer night. The French songs keep playing from a distance and both Sam and Marcia are now dancing like flowers in the parlour. They kiss passionately and hold each other as if their lives would end the next coming second.

– Marcia.

– Sam.

– You are so beautiful. I…

– No. Please don’t say it. You would hurt me.

– Marcia.

– Oh Sam. I…

– Please. Don’t. Please. Not now.

They whisper their names and they kiss at the same time. The blue skies are gradually upgrading to deeper blue, getting the chanting birds going home.

But to Sam and Marcia, that means less than nothing. Their kisses have taken them where time and tide can wait for them and for eternities.

Last Delivery

Last Delivery

The doorbell rings again and they don’t hear. It rings for the second time.

– Marcia.

– Sam.

The lady goes to the kitchen to get something to drink whilst Sam goes to the door. He has his glass of iced scotch in his hand. The whisky and the ice cube have become one. He puts it on the table and opens the door. It is the girl who works for the usual delivery company. She has another package for him. «You smile like an angel…» he told her the first time she came to deliver a parcel. And that smile has never changed.

– Good afternoon Mr Sam.

– Good afternoon Marcia.

Sam saw her name the first time she came; that was when he signed the delivery voucher.

– What do we have today?

– We will discover later Sir.

– You can call me Sam.

– Yes Sir… Sorry. Sam.

– Can I ask you a favour?

– I don’t know… Sam… I have to rush now…

– Marcia. I had a chat with Clandy last night over the phone.

Marcia turns her back and rushes out.

– Marcia! Sam tries to hold her back, but she escapes and leaves.

Clandy is Marcia’s best friend and her direct boss at the delivery company. Marcia tells her any little thing she has in mind. Clandy used to be the one to do the deliveries. She loves Sam but never succeeded making him love her in return. Tired of waiting for Sam to take the first step, she asked for her friend to take that area for deliveries. Sam and Marcia fell in love at first sight. Clandy revealed him that Marcia was in love too.

 

It is   around 9pm when the bell rings. Usually a very harassing neighbour known as Lolikat comes at that time, with a funny reason just to spend some time with the very polite man. He doesn’t answer. The bell rings several times again. He finally decides to go open and speak his mind. Sam opens the door with authority. But it is not the boring Lolikat. It’s an unexpected pleasant surprise.

– Marcia…

– Sam…

This time it is not a dream. It is not an afternoon wandering. Marcia is standing there at the door. The French songs are playing, the glass of scotch is on the table, and they are both naturally and passionately kissing and whispering tender promises.

 

Short Story by Author Ray NDEBI.

 

The Author of Last Delivery

My name is Théodore René Ndebi, born in Cameroon. I graduated in Banking Management. But what really makes me proud and happy is WRITING !!!!! I started writing around 1990. I write the most I can.

I mostly write for children’s future. As a child, I had always dreamt of a world where poor children and orphans could be happy as well. I have many unpublished collections in French: Chaque Jour Un Poème, Rêve D’un Soir, La Missive Du Petit Prince, Suis-Je Assez Bien Pour Toi… I’m also author of unpublished novels in French (Cierge Noir, Plus Violent Que L’amour, Les Fruits De La Tempête…). My first published novel; THE LAST GHOST/Son Of Struggle got published in 2013 by AuthorhouseUK; it appears in the LOS Angeles Times Festival Of Books Catalogue 2014 Page 8. Available online @ Amazon, Kindle, AuthorhouseUK, Barnes & Noble, Indie. I wrote numerous award winning texts. I am a Book Reviewer and Translator. I am a member of OneAfricanChild since 2013 and Co-Founder of Le Salon Du Livre Yaounde-Cameroon. You can check my works on: authorrayndebi.wordpress.com.Ray Ndebi on Facebook, @RTNdebi on Twitter, Facebook Page My Soul & Mon Ame.

 

 

 

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ANANSE

ANANSE

ANANSE

Ananse, remember,

The pitchers on the table,

The stenciled flower vases at the terrace,

And the embroidered kaftans!

I knew you when you were black.

 

Remember,

The death of your father,

Beneath the cracks of the slavers whip,

Wither their whims and that of your king!

Your colour is black, Ananse,

I knew you when your name was not Nigga!

 

Ananse

Ananse

Remember home, Ananse.

The farms are waiting,

And your maidens too,

You are the King of your country,

Not a waiter at McDonalds.

 

Habeeb Kolade Professor X

 

About the Author of Ananse

Habeeb Kolade also known as Professor X is a creative writer and entrepreneur. He currently works at Ventra Media Group, a british marketing agency. He is the Creative director of Market Ibadan Business Festival, CEO of StrictlyUI and Hermosa Marketing. He works with startups to build their market presence. His facebook ID is Habeeb Professorr X Kolade and you can follow him on twitter at @Habeeb_X.

 

 

 

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CENTENARY BLUES

CENTENARY BLUES

CENTENARY BLUES

Nigeria,

My feet bear the portrait of Odyssey

Through your passages of seasons;

I am the custodian of the memories

 

Nigeria at 100

Nigeria at 100

I have spread the arms of this poem

Like street traders’ wares,

Let history journey beyond Lugard’s court

In this caravan of verses.

Inkhorn suffers no amnesia;

This Odysseus’ staff-like pen,

Bears the cargo of words,

Knitting your puzzling tales

Of a hundred years into an elegy

That mocks centennial fetes

 

When Lamentations relieve

The national anthem,

I put on my prophetic garb;

Like Jeremiah, I see into other realms

I envisage heaven’s embassy

Where your rulers

Suffer multiple visa rejection

I am in tune with

Your theatre of absurdity

Where politrickers act out

Corruption‘s endless scripts

 

Fatherland,

Niger and Benue are the tributaries,

Today,

I join the confluence of testaments;

Your regions are havens,

I fear not,

I fear north!

 

About the Author

‘Gbenga Adeoba is a lover of words. His poems have appeared in Sankofa LitMag, Bukrepublik and elsewhere.

 

 

 

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THE LOST LOVE

THE LOST LOVE

THE LOST LOVE

James and Janet cuddled,
Ended breakfast with a kiss,
Sang a song of malice for a week,
Is this love? Definitely Not,

 

Men lost in the pool of lust,
Groping for light in the cloud of vanity,
Deafened by the mantras of infatuation,
All in search of LOVE,

 

Lost Love

Lost Love

With fingers entwined,
John and Jennifer had a delicious dinner,
Parted ways with red eyes fixed in swollen faces,
Is this love? Definitely Not,

 

Ladies tossed by the wind of fame,
Veils of virginity blown away,
Left naked on the bed of immorality,
All in search of LOVE,

 

With a peck to the cheek,
Taylor bids his daughter goodbye,
Forcefully slept with her at dusk,
Is this love? Definitely Not,

 

Prostitutes litter the streets,
Living on a string of trysts,
Trampling on the sacred consummation,
All in search of Love,

 

Couples with bright smiles on the aisle,
Bounded by a glittering ring of GOLD,
Screams for a divorce in a fortnight,
Is this LOVE? Definitely Not,

 

Echoes of love ebbs away,
Chants of deceit fill the air,
Tongues of affection dried by thirst,
All in search of LOVE,

 

Followers throng after their leader,
Painfully submit their taxes at the Public square,
Masters go on a spending spree,
Is this Love? Definitely not,

 

Divinity opened the scrolls of LOVE,
Light of Love flooded the earth,
Sons of darkness fled to the hills,
LOVE was revealed to humanity,

 

Beaten and battered on the streets of Galilee,
A savior with a rugged cross on a walk to Golgotha,
Pleaded mercy for his killers as he died for the world,
This is LOVE!

 

P.S: Jesus Christ is the best expression of LOVE the world has ever seen. The poem talked about other ways of expressing love and its perpetual failure; philos, eros but agape survived.
Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends – JESUS CHRIST

© 2015 by Osho Samuel Adetunji 

 

About the Author of Lost Love

Osho Samuel Adetunji is a graduate of Mechanical Engineering from Nigeria’s premier University, University of Ibadan. He is a poet, a blogger, a Public Speaker, an on air personality with a knack for short stories, inspirational articles and poems. He is a great thinker, creative and dexterous young man who does not only believe in excellence but also extols the tenets of discipline, hard work and effectiveness. He is an award-winning individual who is multifaceted and consistently measures success by effective impact.

He is a writer per excellence with articles published on VAVANE AFRICA, THE SCOOPNG, KONNECT AFRICA, Paarapo and Home zone media. He co-founded THE COURTROOM in 2012 with Tijani Mayowa. He is the founder of KREATIVE DIADEM, a new initiative which kicked off on March 1, 2015.
He is an inspirational young man who is addicted to going an extra mile in all facets of life. He is also a lover of football, tennis and boxing. You can follow him on Twitter with the handle: @inisamosho.

 

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THE CAMPAIGNERS

THE CAMPAIGNERS

THE CAMPAIGNERS

Deji saw more than 40 posters on the 27th of November 2014, they were all people campaigning for the Gubernatorial position in Ibadan Oyo State.

 

There was Lawal Oshutogun and Deji thought he was rather rascal looking. Even though the Barrister was a Lecturer of Law at the University of Illorin. There was Badmus Bamgbose, he looked deceitful “I mean all that smile” Deji thought to himself.

There was Abiodun Seyi. This particular man made him laugh. He still remembered the Facebook update he saw about Seyi. Someone furious with him went ahead to say

“You must be an armed robber if you are considering voting for Abiodun Seyi, are there no responsible people in the whole of Oyo State? I can’t imagine people going back to the era of body bleaching creams, leg chains (on a man’s leg) and a rascal who spends his father’s loots at CocoDome”.

Deji couldn’t stop laughing after he read the post.

He never thought much about the posters or those coming out for the Gubernatorial post until he saw the poster of Ayolola Ayobami. He pasued. Screamed 40 times in his mind and cleaned his eyes to be sure it was Ayolola Ayobami. He vowed there and then that Ayolola will not win. He prayed, sang and clapped in a space of 60seconds.

 

Deji had a class, he was a PhD holder hence he was called Dr. Deji. Since the class was soon he made a mental note to tell his students about Ayolola. And so after he was done teaching them a topic in ENTREPRENEURSHIP – although he was a lecturer in the Department of Mechanical Engineering, he began to narrate.

The campaign

The campaign

“This Ibadan people are already getting ready for 2015. I sure most of us are past the age of 18 so let’s vote well o.. Hmmmm. You see back in the 80’s I was a student at the University of Ife and being someone who loves transparency I decided to join the Students Council and as God will have it I was appointed Financial Secretary. During the 84/85 session we had to make a financial report and I noticed that #40,000 was missing. I asked the President and the General secretary what happened to the 40,000 missing in action and they said for me to keep quiet and forget about as they have used it for personal refreshment. Knowing what that meant I decide to bring it up in the councils General Meeting. But before I could bring it up I was suspended for Unruly behaviour and subordination. So you see my children if those kind of people should be in authority today what change are you going to see?”

 

The President was Ayolola Ayobami and so after the class. Deji called Ayo, he got the number through a mutual friend and told him “Ayo, it’s Deji I’m sure you will be surprised but I just wanted to let you know one thing : YOU ARE NOT GOING TO WIN!”

 

About the Author of THE CAMPAIGNERS

I’m Onwukwe Chimdinma Adriel. A 400 level Law student of the Prestigious University of Ibadan, Ibadan, Nigeria. I love writing. You can see some of her works here: www.adrielzjournal2013.wordpress.com and subscribe to her channel; BBM Channel : C0016FD7F

 

 

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