Before You Cross

"Look left, look right, look left again then you cross" chorused the pupils after Auntie Alice. The kids were frightened of Auntie Alice, the Primary School teacher. She wore her eyebrows thick and black, her lipstick heavy and red. This thin, tall, stern-faced teacher explained to the class how to cross the street. One of the pupils, Johny, raises his hand. "Yes?" said Auntie Alice in her usual stern contralto. "What if there are no cars on the street, do I..." 
"Of course", interrupts Auntie Alice, "a car can come out of nowhere anytime. You must look left, look right, look left again then you can cross."

Twenty years later, Johny is standing by the street. It looks like he wants to cross. He is frantically glancing left and right, like someone trying not to be caught stealing away with some cheap item. He is visibly sweating and uncomfortable. "What is the matter?" I ask
"I have been looking left, right and left again but every time there is an automobile roaring towards me."

"You have never crossed a busy street?" I ask, 
"Errhmm" stutters Johny. 
I smile politely. "Calm down."
"Let's go now", I yell. 

I do not want to grab his hand as it might seem inappropriate to hold a full grown man's hands while crossing the street. 

As we are about to move, he freaks out and hurries back to the edge of the street. I had already made it to the median strip. So I cross back to meet him. "Guy, you did not cross with me?" With terror in his eyes, "that car nearly jam me", he manages to say. 

"Okay, calm down let's try again". After I arrive at the median strip, Johny is still shivering at the other side of the road. 

I am getting frustrated. Walking back to him I say "Bros we have been standing here nearly 15 minutes, when are you going to do it?" 

"When I look left, look right, look left again and there is no vehicle coming, I will cross", replies Johny stoically.

 One hour later, I and Johny are still waiting. Like a miracle, the street is suddenly clear. Johny looks left, looks right, looks left again, then we cross together. I could hear in my mind an audience applauding us, Sitcom style.

By now my legs were hurting from standing. My shirt is soaked with perspiration due to the heat of the sun. I need a drink. I descry a hawker selling water in bottles. I signal him to come over. He hurries to us, waving his bottled water in my face.

"Give me one". Johny reaches to collect one from the hawker. 

"Oh, you are thirsty too? I thought you were the one who wanted it this way".

"Guy", says Johnny. "I have not seen this kind of traffic in my life".

We pay the hawker just before he runs off to sell to another thirsty person by the street. "Let us proceed to the market," I say to Johny.

Johny needs a laptop, so he came from his little town to my city to purchase it. He wants to start a business center: a shop where clients can type, scan and print out documents; and do some minor computer graphics.

I reckoned he would not really need a high-end laptop so I determined the specifications that would be suitable then decided to take him to the Electronics market in my city. 

As we are approaching the entrance to the electronics market, a young man comes over to us, shakes our hands, feigning familiarity, and tells us he has phones and accessories. I say "thanks but that is not what we are looking for." 

Then another fellow yells at the young man, "Leave them, They are coming to my shop!" 
Addressing us, "You want phone chargers right? You came to my shop last week, I know you". 

I have never seen him from Adam. I remember faces well. 

We ignore him and proceed. With the several catcalls from desperate traders, I am beginning to feel like an attractive woman with many street side admirers.

We take a turn into a dark alley in the market. After a few minutes walking in the dark through rickety stalls, we get to open air, it is bright once again. To the left, we sight a middle-aged man engrossed in his cell phone. 

"Good day," I greet.

He looks up at us from his game of Sugar Crush. “Sugar Crush? What does this old man see in this game?” 

I say beneath my breath. I do not like Sugar Crush. I consider it a very boring game. What good can come out of a Sugar Crusher's shop are my thoughts.

"We are looking for a laptop”.

“What specs?”

“Let us see what you have?" 

"Ok enter," the trader says. 

We walk into his musky little shop. There are various sizes of paper boxes, contraptions and electronic boards littering the shelves and floors. He begins to mention the brands he has.

"Give us this brand in this spec," I say.

“Ok”.

We negotiate, agree on the price, and, voila, we walk out with the laptop. Johny is really pleased. It took us nearly three hours to find the shop with the right laptop then agree on a price after haggling back and forth, here and there.

By now my feet ache. I am wearing leather slippers so my heels and foot are feeling the hardness of the hot pavements.

Johny was speechless through most of the ensuing at the electronics market. He knows how to operate computers but not how to buy them, and not in the big city too.

A little tired and in a rush to get back home as it is already dusk, I look at the street, do a quick mental computation of the differential equations that one unconsciously solves to determine if one can get to the other side of the street without being run over  by traffic, then I dash across.

I am now at the median feeling pleased with myself, only to look back and see Johny sweating again at the other side of the street. I almost yell out in frustration as I cross back to him.

 "What is the matter?"

"I looked left, looked right, looked left again but could not cross," Johny says with a shrug.

#AshortStory 

Omoy

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Old Things, New Things: Part 2

"Rrrring!" The sound from the rotary dial telephone on the desk blares into the darkroom, interrupting her work...and thoughts. She hurries out of the darkroom to the ringing phone. "This is Nafi Photos, how may I help you", says Nafi to the caller. She tries to sound calm and welcoming, although the loud ringing of the telephone was startling and a bit annoying. She knows that directing her annoyance to the person on the line is not a wise choice. Five years of being a photographer have taught her: "Customer is king, so also is a potential customer". 

The caller introduces himself, "I am Gebu". He continues, "will you be available to cover my traditional wedding coming up this weekend?" 

"The notice is rather short but..." protests Nafi then adds a tinge of hope to her voice. It's her technique to make the customer know it is possible to do it but will cost more.

"I understand. The photographer who was supposed to do the job suddenly has an emergency to attend to, so will not be available.

I was referred, by a friend, to you. You are my last option, please be available", says Gebu in a pleading tone.

"Hello? I cannot hear you, what did you say?"

The line is wonky with a lot of static noise.

Nafi grumbles under her breath, "I pay so much for this landline phone yet the quality is so poor".

Gebu yells this time, repeating himself, slowing down his words.

"It is possible, I will have to adjust my plans for this weekend and make your event my priority," Nafi says. She never really had any plans for the weekend, but she knows, from experience, that when you see a desperate client, try to make your service a little scarcer, this way you can charge higher.

"Hello? Can you hear me? What did you say..." answers Gebu, struggling to hear Nafi's words in the midst of the crackling noise on the phone line.

Nafi, a bit frustrated, with the telephone company, repeats herself, yelling louder this time.

"Ah, thank you. You have saved me from a major fiasco", replies Gebu. "My fiancée can now go to bed with both eyes shut.

Nafi chuckles knowingly, " How about the terms? My fees are..." Gebu interrupts, "Let’s not discuss this yet, just be there and we can negotiate later, you will get paid in full". Nafi does not protest.

Gebu proceeds to fill her in on the time and address for the event. 

After some yelling, to raise their voices above the crackling noise in the call, and a few repeating of statements, Nafi eventually gets the address and directions to the venue. Gebu wishes her a nice day and hangs up.

The phone call lasted almost ten minutes because of constantly needing to repeat themselves. Nafi is grateful, that at least, she now has a means of being reached remotely. It has increased her clientele somewhat; although, the telephone charges in comparison to the quality of the calls are not impressive.

"Time to prepare…", Nafi thinks to herself. "Buy more film, check the camera, get more batteries…" She makes a mental checklist.

It is Saturday morning, at number 11, Okeji Street. The bride is putting on finishing touches to her makeup with the help of a makeup artist. "You look lovely" gasps her cousin and continues, "Where is the photographer? You need a snapshot now" 

#AshortStory 

Omoy

Omoy

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Old Things, New Things: Part 1

Jembe is admiring his stock of cassette tapes. He is a songwriter who also sings and plays the piano. In the daytime, he is a clerical officer at a government agency. At night he performs at the local night club.

His taste in music is for Jazz and Blues although he has an eclectic collection of music genres. A collection of eight years, including the ones he inherited from his dad, a former school teacher.

In preparation for his next gig this weekend, Jembe decides to listen to his favorite jazz album, "Give me Magic". He opens his wardrobe to reveal a six-feet high stash of tapes.  He rapidly locates the desired one then scuttles to the cassette player to insert the tape. The player is the dual loader type. It can take two tapes at a time. It was a gift from his office when he was the employee of the month twice consecutively.

Jembe pushes the button to open the tape loader, slots the tape in then closes the jacket. He pushes the play button. The player motor spins but the something is not right. He pushes again. There is a few seconds of silence except for the sound of the tape rolling. The music starts with the bassline fading in. the bass melody continues then is articulately joined by percussions, cymbals, high hats, kicks. It's his favorite so he hums along while seated in the armchair next to his bed.

The rhythm guitar enters after about four repetitions of varying transitions of the bassline and the percussions. Mellifluous melody is now booming from his wooden speakers.  Jembe hums along, tapping his feet in step with the drum kicks, his eyes bright with excitement and admiration of the beauty of the musical arrangement.

Suddenly, the speakers are silent. A squeezing, unpleasant noise is the next sound from the player. No more music but the tape keeps rolling. Jembe lets out a frustrated sigh. The player has wrinkled his tape, again. He hurries down to the player to stop it from playing the tape further before it snaps the tape.

Two weeks earlier, his Juju tape was snapped when a similar creasing of the tape occurred. That time he had friends over who were enjoying drinks with him and discussing his performance at the club on the previous night. Tade, one of the friends, suggested using sellotape to mend the broken tape. It worked but the music on the section was lost on both sides of the tape.

This time jembe successfully extricated the tape from the player unsnapped. He smooths out the tape then tries to continue playing it. After five brilliant tracks, he walks over to the player to turn the cassette around to side B and continue listening to the remaining five songs. While the third song on side B, "Little Wonder", is playing, the already familiar squeal and screeching of tape is heard from the player. On pulling out the cassette, the tape had snapped. "Oooh!" exclaims Jembe and hisses loudly.

#AshortStory
Omoy

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Hate: Part 1

A month ago, on my way home from work  I met Kash on the train. Seated by the window, I noticed him board the train. You see, it was raining that day and Kash was a little bit wet. His dark, long hair, was wet, it fell to his face obscuring most of his features but I could see his eyes. They were green, they were deep and they looked beautiful. He was tall and well built, his shirt hugged his body perfectly, accentuating his well-built frame. He was gorgeous, a slender hunk of a Man. He looked really decent  and oh was he so handsome. And here I was, drooling over him already. A total stranger. Hahaha. I laughed playfully at myself. He stood at the entrance, shook his hair to let loose some of its wetness and then proceeded to wear it in a ponytail. 

I couldn't take my eyes off him, it seemed as if I was transfixed. He glanced around looking for where to seat and that's when our eyes met. Without warning, my heart began to beat faster, "behave yourself" I muttered to my heart, but of course it didn't pay me no mind. It had taken on a life of its own.

Kash made his way in and sat down beside me.

"Good evening," he said. 

"Good evening" I managed to mutter. 

"The one day I leave my umbrella at home, it decides to rain," he said to himself. 

Without thinking, I handed him my hanky. "Oh gee, thank you," he said and he proceeded to wipe his wet face dry.

"I'm Kash," he said.

His voice wasn't deep and it wasn't girly, it was in between, it was soft and I found myself drinking in the sound of his voice without even hearing what he was saying. Somehow we exchanged numbers and promised to keep in touch. Over the next few days, I and Kash continued to meet. We met on the train from work, we met to have coffee on the corner of Peama street. We had long walks in the evenings on weekends and we talked a lot on the phone. We also went to the movies together. In fact,  We spent every free time we had together, my colleagues at work began to tease me because whenever he called, they said I turned pink, said I couldn't stop smiling and that I had this glow in my eyes, that glow which only a person in love would have.

We became Inseparable, just like two peas in a pod. He was such a gentleman, he treated me so well and for the first time in a long while, I had butterflies in my stomach,  I was happy and I was in love.

Kash had never kissed me he'd only pecked me and that was the day he told me he loved me. I'd waited so long to hear him say that and when he did, I was over the moon with joy.

He had also never taken me home to his place and he'd never been to my place. We always met outside and I Was wondering when he Would finally take me home.

Then one night as we talked before bedtime which had become our custom, Kash asked that I visit him at his place the next day. I'd never been to his place before neither had he been to mine, this would be a first. I accepted his invitation gladly. It was about time! We said our goodbyes and hung up. As I lay in bed thinking of what tomorrow held for me, a cold chill swept over me, a sense of foreboding if you will. I didn't know what it was and seeing as the window to my room was open I chucked it down to the chill of the night's air.

The day came. The clouds were dark and looked heavy with rain. I went about my business faster than usual because I wanted to leave the house before the cloud let loose its tears.

By the time I was all dressed and ready to leave, a drizzle had started, I grabbed my umbrella headed out, hailed a taxi and got in. 

The taxi driver was a big burly man 

"Where to ma'am?" he said in his raspy voice which made me wince a lil. I gave him the address, 26. Pemberton street and he zoomed off. The drive to Kash's place was short. I paid my fare and got down. It was still drizzling but this time there were streaks of lightning. Any moment now, the downpour would begin. I quickly ran up the front step of Kash's apartment and smartly rapped on the door.  

Kash opened the door and welcomed me in. His home was neatly kept and it smelled nice too. I could hear the sound of soft music playing in the background, I could perceive the delicious aroma of roasted turkey. My heart was smiling for it knew that that would be the day Kash asked me out.

Well, it all happened so fast, one moment we were on the couch sipping a glass of red wine and the next moment I was dizzy. I could barely focus on Kash. One moment he was smiling and the next moment his face was contorted with rage. I was sinking into the dark depths of oblivion and Kash's image seemed far away. There was the loud clap of thunder and then it happened! A stinging slap from him rang in my ears, followed by a punch to my face. I felt him lift me over his shoulder and a few moments later he flung me unceremoniously on his bed. A rain of slaps descended on my face and what I dreaded most began to happen. He ripped my shirt off me, the buttons flying here and there, he tore my panties off and roughly thrust himself into me. 

Even in the depth of my darkness I knew what was happening but was powerless to stop it. You see...... my Kash had drugged me and he was raping me. I'll never know why.

It was cold, it was freezing. It was dark, it was lonely. 

That place called hate, it ate me up, it made me sick and I couldn't let go. I had learned to hate and with good reason too. 

My name is Bika and this is how I learned to hate.

#AShortStory

Robbie

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The Testimony

I am here. I am healthy. I am alive.

The doctor had just told me that my case was terminal. It was Cancer... Stage 4 and I had three months to live.

I was dazed! Dazed into a daze. It seemed like my future was sealed. I felt lonely.  I felt hopeless. I felt lost. I was going to die.....and there was nothing I could do about it.

I walked home slowly, I could barely see the faces of people as they streamed passed me. The cacophony of sounds from voices, motor engines and blaring horns all seemed far away.....muffled...as if they were all in another dimension.

I began to quiver as I slowly trudged home, in just the space of a few minutes, my eyes had sunk into their sockets. I couldn't see it....I could feel it....I just knew. And I said to myself...."the cold hands of death....is this what you feel like?"

Tears came unbidden into my eyes. They streamed down my face and I let them flow. I felt the bile rise up from inside my tummy and i puked on the curb.

"Ma'am are you ok?" A certain stranger asked me.

I waved him away, nodding my head as if all was well, he looked at me for a few seconds and then he Left, after all, there was nothing he could do for me.

I got home, curled up in bed and cried my heart out. I cried for myself, my family, my friends. I cried for my present and I cried for my future. I cried for dreams unfulfilled and I cried for sweet life yet unlived. Death had come for me and it was going to take me.

A month had passed and i had lived like a hermit. Barely eating. Always crying And crying myself to sleep. On this day, i do not know how long I had slept for it seemed I had cried myself to Sleep which had become a norm, I awoke with a banging headache and with a chill. It wasn't a chill born of the weather....It was the chill of death making its way within me, occupying my very essence, making its abode in me until I ceased to exits in three months time. I lay on my back starring up at the ceiling and after a while I began to stare into nothingness. I looked to my right, the desk lamp was turned low, and a book I'd only began to read, The Anatomy Of The Scriptures by Reigner Davies lay there. I'd only read a page of it. I looked at the curtains, it was beautiful...a gift from Jake when I had moved into this house. My eyes wandered forward to my closet which was slightly ajar and I remembered all the new and fine clothing's I had bought which were all in there. I remembered how excited I had been buying them and how I couldn't wait to wear them. Pity I wouldn't be needing any of them now. I was going to die innit? I saw my sneakers peeking out...looking at me as if it sensed my pain and I laughed.....well.. It was more of a cackle for my throat was parched. Even my shoe knew I was going to die.

How do I live? I didnt want to die, I wanted soo much to live. Its been a month and I'd wallowed so much in my grief...forgetting my friend, the one who had always been with me. The one who never left me. The holy spirit.

On this day, He said to me "freshen up and take a Stroll"

"Take a stroll? Pal, you do realize I'm dieing and you want me to take a stroll? What good would that do me?

"Take a stroll. What good has wallowing in your  misery done you?" Take a stroll he said

You see...he was my dearest friend and he loved me so much. As much as I didnt want to go out, I somehow managed to. it was winter you see, and so I was bundled up in my warm clothing. Coats, mitts and all...the whole nine yard.

"So, where to now?"

"Turn left, and just walk"

I rolled my eyes heaven ward and did his bidding.

"Since when did you believe the word of man?  whose report will you believe...man or God?"

Hey! but that doctor is a specialist....the best there is, and he's never wrong. I saw the results myself. I even made him carry out the test more than once! holy spirit I'm going to die"

"Lol...how can you even die Zora, I live in you"

"Yes you do, but didn't you live in other believers who have died?"

"Zora, that doctors report is not final. Jesus declares to you 'I am your Alpha and your omega'. That means He has the first word and the final word in your situation!  You remeber that Alpha and omega are the first and last letters of the Greek alphabet?

"Yes I do"

"Good, but Jesus did not speak Greek. He spoke Aramaic or Hebrew. So He would have said, “I am the Aleph and the Tav.” Aleph and tav are the first and last letters of the Hebrew alphabet. So what Jesus is declaring to your is this: “I have the first word in your situation. And I have the final word in your situation!”

"Oh my! How did I forget all this. Listening to you reminding me about this gives me hope. But I'm still sad though. Hahaha. Now I know why you wanted me to take this stroll, oh well..go on...I'm sorta enjoying this"

"Well, you took your eyes of the lamb slain Zora, that is why. Keep this in front of you always. This is your reality. So, as I was saying,  each Hebrew letter has a corresponding picture. Interestingly, aleph is associated with an ox and tav, a cross. Together, they make up a beautiful picture of what Jesus did for you—He is the sacrificial “animal” on the cross. It was for you that He suffered, bled and died.

When Jesus hung on the cross, He took your infirmities and bore your sicknesses. Rememebr matthew 8:17? That is why your sickness does not have the final word in your life. Jesus does, because He took your sickness upon His body and paid for your healing with His blood"

"Oh God, oh God. Thank you. Thank you"

"I will never leave you Zora, I am with you, always"

At this point...I was overwhelmed. I still felt sad, but I had the knowing that I wasn't going to die anymore. I didn't know how, but I knew I wouldn't die. I felt....lighthearted.

"Take a right Zora, walk down Low Street"

"We seem to be on an adventure today, where to now?"

"I want you to meet some people, they will invite you For Joint Summit, there you will meet the Reigner Davies, the author of "The Anatomy of the

"Scriptures! Wow!!! Wait...you mean he's coming to town, I'll meet him?"

"Hahaha, he is in town already Zora! And he's here  with His friend Akin-Ojo

"Unbelievable!!! What!!!! You mean they're both in town already???? Oh.... mi gosh!"

"Here they come Zora"

Afar off I could see a group of young people like myself. They were all handing out fliers to people and they had this glow of joy around them. Then!! I saw something strange. I had never seen a sight like this before. They wear all dripping....dripping blood. It was as if they'd been dipped in it. I wanted to be afraid but I couldn't...they're was something so comforting about the way they looked drenched in blood. I didnt know if others saw it, but I did see. It was blood alright. Well...just as it had appeared, it vanished, and I saw them in normal clothing. It was then that I knew what it was.

"Errr was that the blood of Jesus I saw on them"

"Yes it was Zora, the blood that takes away the sins of the world, the blood that makes you whole."

"Wow!"

"Helloooo, my name is Mirabella with a double Ella, and these are my friends, Maro, Elfrida, Judith, Alberta and Godwin. We are from the Faculty of The MouldBreak institute of Change and we would like to invite you for joint Summit. Soooo will you come? Say you'll come already!!!

"Say you'll come" they all chorused in a sing song manner as they made a circle around me. I could feel the love radiating from these people. It was palpable, I could touch it. It was intense, yet so gentle. It was furious, yet so kind. I broke down in tears and they all hugged me. How it happened I do not know, but I joined them in sharing the fliers.

The girl Mirabella was a Bouncing bubbly bundle of fun. I loved her from the word go. Infact....she had me at hello!

Elfrida had her hair in a bun....beautiful young lady. She was as I would later come to find out a master chef!

Godwin was tall, he had the eyes of the orients. He was a techie and boy could he dance! I know right?? A techie who can dance! Lol

Judith was smallish....she had a warm smile...her voice was simply awemazing.....it was like liquid fire!

Maro..her smile and laughter resonated with me on a deep level. She could write and write well did she.

Alberta...the young CEO of Roselle, a company which makes drinks, she could also sing and her hair.....I just wanted it! Hahaha.

Well, I went for joint summit, Moyo Akin Ojo Laid hands on me and prayed. I didnt feel nothing but I knew without the shadow of a doubt that I was healed. I went home after Joint summit and went about my life as if nothing happened months back.

suffice it to say that its been a year now for someone who had three months to live and I am alive, married to a good man and I have a beautiful son.

This is living now. Christ and Him Crucified. 

This is.......My Testimony!

#AshortStory

Robbie

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