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BETWEEN JINNS AND MEN

The city of Agartha. A huge rock from whose sides shallow waist-high caves have been forged. A little fire burns within our hero's home. Jan and Jin; his guardians just finished breakfast. They fly out with Jinn to Shaitan’s coven.

Jan: (facing Shaitan) I don’t know what’s wrong with the boy. Seven years he has tormented the girl and now he stops at once. It is not normal, right habibi?

Jin: (head bowed) It is as you say habibi.

Shaitan: (a red halo surrounds him) Why do you stop your duty. Even now your charge rests. She has done no evil for three months. Your bank is low.

Jinn: (lost as in a daze) I don’t care. I love her and I regret all the evil I did. She is an angel evil one, my angel. Do not tell me you have never been in love.

Shaitan: (twirls and thunders) Then you shall disappear as others who do not obey imp.

Inside a Sheikh’s house in Nigeria. Mallam Musa and his wife; distraught parents of Hauwa sit cross-legged before Sheikh Dara. Hauwa sits by the far corner en…

MARYAM'S RAMADAN

“Salam alaikum sister Maryam. Can I have a word?” Amina shouted gathering together her jilbab and struggling through the crowd to reach a sister who was leaving the mosque in a hurry.

Maryam rolled her eyes in frustration and turned to face the Amirah ruing her failed escape.

“Salam alaikum Amirah.”

“Wa alaikum salam. Ah my jilbab is out again” Amirah Amina said in a mocking tone fingering the blue flowing veil.

Maryam, ever willing to get into the raging war between hijabis and non-hijabis chuckled in reply;

“Jazakallahum khairan. I want to boost my iman too.”

“Masha’Allah may He make it permanent for you. I hope we plan to finish the Qur'an this Ramadan?”

“Insha'Allah Amirah.” She knew she had no chance of finishing the holy book in thirty days. Even last Ramadan's missed fasts were still unpaid.

“You are joining the recitation group right?”

“Your name's not here, but I told Amir it must be an error.” She waved the list like a prize.

Maryam faintly remembere…

A LADY IN LOVE

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“Where do lovers go when they die?”

“To la ville de l’amour, beyond the big blue clouds in the sky.”

“And what did Lady Charlotte give her lover on her wedding day?”

“A strand of her hair to be kept as a mark of their love forever.”

Behind the banks of the River Pye was a garden hidden by Black Willows and a dreadfully steep hill. Here, the lovers sat; the daughter of a Duke and a lowly Robin, oblivious to the rain drops which fell thump thump down the canopy of leaves and the whoosh of flowing water. They sat true to their fortnightly ritual; legs outstretched and toes intertwined, content to recite the lines as old as their love story. Their deep stares were desperate to still time but their love too pure, to transverse this union of toes.

The lady looked up and a frown almost painful to watch crossed her pretty face.

I must go or Mama will notice.

“Please stay” said the lad touching her fingers without realizing his transgression.

The lady jerked back; scared by the touch and wrap…

LOST

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The alarm went off by 4am in the morning, and at that time Nancy was on her third box. She woke up by 2am to put everything together. Peter would arrive on the first flight in an hour and it was wiser and safer that she clear out before then. She sat on the box too full to zip shut and tried to force it again and again. The box would not budge. She kicked it angrily and started to cry.

Our story begins six months ago when Nancy wed Peter in a celebration of wealth and love. The young couple met on LinkedIn and bonded over their mutual love for dealing in securities. They had a whirlwind romance; straight out of the telenovelas. Three months later, they were engaged and the next month, they said their vows.

Trouble came knocking two weeks into the marriage. Peter got up from bed one night holding unto his head and speaking gibberish. She tapped him but he screamed and pinned her to the bed.

You witch. I know all your plans. You are trying to kill me he screamed.

She could feel the lif…

THE SUPER ODD VERY STRANGE RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN MR. DAYO AND HIS TRANSISTOR RADIO

I'm convinced my neighbor Mr Dayo, is in love with his transistor radio. Either that or he is in some sort of transistor radio secret cult. How else do you explain the smiles on his poker face whenever he holds it like a newborn or the fact that though, rich enough, the Dayos' still depend on a three year old box for e-entertainment.

The radio is a major part of their daily life. They make their ablutions and say prayers at 5:30am every morning after which, Mr Dayo grabs his radio fondly tuning for a signal. He would sit on his dining chair, shut both eyes, smile and tune quietly and carefully until a station comes on.

There is an unchangeable order to this and they all must observe this daily ritual. It's Hot FM news at 6am, Network news across all stations at 7am, Newspapers review on Crystal FM by 8am, Nation FM news at 8:30am and People on the street speak your mind from 8:30am to 10am on Independent FM. All through this, he would try to draw his family into conversat…

One Man, Two Bodies

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ONE
People are born. People grow up and get old. Then, these people die. That’s the natural order of things. That’s the order so routine like breathing in air that when these old people die, other people just go on living. This however, wasn’t the case in the small village(which shall simply be called village) on that day. It wasn’t the case when the search party discovered the mutilated body on the farm path. It wasn’t the case when they discovered another body close by hanging from a tree. It was not the case when they were both identified. The village had not witnessed such a stir for several decades.
He was in Class Two when the headaches started and his troubles began. He was the oldest in his class-his mother decided he was not ready for school till the Chief forced her to send him. He was always moody, loving certain things excessively for a time then, having no interest whatsoever in them after. He could not understand why he always found a way to end whatever fun he was havi…