 
### COAST TO COAST

An anthology of Poetry, Essays and Short Stories on Migration and Pandemics

Published by TalesFromTheOtherLand Group at Smashwords

Copyright 2020 TalesFromTheOtherLand

_Rise Again; The Enemy's Lessons_ ; _10:30 Pm_ © 2020 Edidiong Esshiet.

_Ode To The Divine Coroner; Hush; Our Homestead; Home Coming; Kiss Them For Me: An Elergy To The Past-Away_ ; _The Radio Announcement ©_ 2020 Ukeme Edung.

_I left; Ancestral Domain; In the Name of Progress; Outbreak_ _©_ 2020 Abdul Majiid K. Abdul Azis

_Chaos; Unprepared; A Wake Up Call_. Paintings: _The Beginning; The Migrant's Dilemma; Migrants' Road Map; Post Lock Down; Widow of the Pandemic; Glow Again: Post Pandemic_ © 2020 Keisha Acuff.

_Covid19; Apocalypse; Hope © 2020_ Sehloho Piet Rampai.

_Tears Are Better In The Snow; Dockay Still Like Money; Fear In A Mask_. © 2020 Gimbiya Galadima.

_I will stay and Build; Time Travel:2080_ © 2020 Enamidem Udousoro.

_Painful Laughter; So Long_ _our Letter; Long Walk to Freedom._ © 2020 Al-amin El-Nasir.

_Inhabitants of Earth; Home; Looking Elsewhere_. © 2020 Clarence Carvel.

_An Enemy Lives Among Us; Rattus Pundit; Coast To Coast_. © 2020 Obinna Lawrence Ozeh.

_I Want To See You; Don't Talk To Fairies_ © 2020 Lovender S. White.

_The_ _Island Girl; Foreign; Home_. © 2020 Bel Writer.

_Further_ ; _Dear Diary; Flush: An abstract painting_ © 2020 Evelyn Joie.

_Scourge of the Villain; Exodus_. © 2020 Omoyeme Eunice Osara.

_Migrations in History; Pandemic in our Times_. © 2020 Vaun Fiedler.

_Photos of birds in India_. © 2020 Gaurav Patil.

_Paintings of the global impact of covid19_. © 2020 Endiong Saviour.

_Joy Ride_. © 2020 Remy Oliver.

_A Break from the Rat Race of Life_. © 2020 Sylvia Robertson.

In _The Year 2020;_ _Mitigating Circumstances; Viral Warp and Weft_ © 2020 Hullabaloo22.

_One Last Day ©2020_ Chimnazam Nnaemeka

_To whom it may Concern_. © 2020 Oluwatimilehin Atere.
Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It is meant for educational and recreational purposes. It is not to be sold. If you would like to share this book with another person, please download copies from Smashwords. Thank you for respecting the hard work of these authors.

This compendium is the copyright of TalesFromTheOtherLand Group 2020. All rights reserved. All individual works contained within this collection remain the copy right of their respective authors and are used in this compendium with their kind permission.

" _In these unprecedented times, the arts are helping pull us through; whether it's reading or watching movies or impromptu at home concerts from our favorite artists. From the short stories in this book was seen a reimagining of our lives through the pandemic and how it affects us all. The imaginative stories express our helplessness and our hope, reminding us we're all in this together."_

Sheryl Steines

Author of "The Wizard Hall Chronicles; The Day of the First Sun; Black Market; Wizard War; Prophecy; The Rise of the Black Market.

*********

" _It was awesome reading Coast to Coast and discovering how every poem had different emotions. While some carried grief, some hatred against the year and some for the microorganism which caused the disaster. Also there are words of hope and prayers to the Almighty. Beautifully carved pieces complied together. Worth a read."_

Akshata Sachin Mali

(Content creator and blogger - India)

www.alienicpoems.wordpress.com/

### CONTENTS

DEDICATION

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

EDITORS

PROLOGUE

PART ONE - ESSAYS:

A BREAK FROM THE RAT RACE OF LIFE _-_ SYLVIA ROBERTSON

MIGRATIONS IN HISTORY \- VAUN FIEDLER

PANDEMIC IN OUR TIMES -VAUN FIEDLER

PART TWO – POETRY

PANDEMICS:

HUSH _-_ UKEME EDUNG

IN THE YEAR 2020 _-_ HULLABALOO 22

AN ENEMY LIVES AMONG US _-_ OBINNA LAWRENCE OZEH

FEAR IN A MASK _-_ GIMBIYA GALADIMA

COVID 19 _-_ SEHLOHO PIET RAMPAI

AN OUTBREAK _-_ ABDUL MAJIID K. ABDUL AZIS

UNPREPARED _-_ KEISHA ACUFF

SCOURGE OF THE VILLAIN _-_ OMOYEME EUNICE OSARA

RATTUS PUNDIT _-_ OBINNA LAWRENCE OZEH

PAINFUL LAUGHTER _-_ AL-AMIN EL-NASIR

APOCALYPSE _-_ SEHLOHO PIET RAMPAI

VIRAL WARP AND WEFT _-_ HULLABALOO22

ODE TO THE DIVINE CORONER _-_ UKEME EDUNG

MIGRATION:

HOME _-_ CLARENCE CARVEL

THE ISLAND GIRL _-_ BEL WRITER

TEARS ARE BETTER IN THE SNOW _-_ GIMBIYA GALADIMA

ANCESTRAL DOMAIN _-_ ABDUL MAJIID K. ABDUL AZIS

COAST TO COAST _-_ OBINNA LAWRENCE OZEH

TIME TRAVEL: 2080 _-_ ENAMIDEM UDOUSORO

EXODUS _-_ OMOYEME EUNICE

FOREIGN \- BEL WRITER

MITIGATING CIRCUMSTANCES _-_ HULLABALOO22

I LEFT _-_ ABDUL MAJIID K. ABDUL AZIS

FREESTYLE:

DOCKAY STILL LIKE MONEY \- GIMBIYA GALADIMA

IN THE NAME OF PROGRESS _-_ ABDUL MAJIID K. ABDUL AZIS

LONG WALK TO FREEDOM _-_ AL-AMIN EL-NASIR

INHABITANTS OF EARTH _-_ CLARENCE CARVEL

SO LONG OUR LETTER _-_ AL-AMIN EL-NASIR

HOME _-_ BEL WRITER

OUR HOMESTEAD _-_ UKEME EDUNG

LOOKING ELSEWHERE _-_ CLARENCE CARVEL

HOME COMING _-_ UKEME EDUNG

LESSONS FROM THE ENEMY _-_ EDIDIONG ESSHIET

HOPE:

I WILL STAY AND BUILD _-_ ENAMIDEM UDOUSORO

FURTHER _-_ EVELYN JOIE

HOPE _-_ SEHLOHO PIET RAMPAI

A WAKE UP CALL _-_ KEISHA ACUFF

CHAOS _-_ KEISHA ACUFF

RISE AGAIN _-_ EDIDIONG ESSHIET

KISS THEM FOR ME: AN ELERGY TO THE PAST-AWAY _-_ UKEME EDUNG

PART THREE - PHOTO ESSAYS:

MIGRATION OF BIRDS IN INDIA _-_ GAURAV P. PATIL

THE MIGRANT'S DELIMMA \- KEISHA ACUFF

MIGRANTS' ROAD MAP _-_ KEISHA ACUFF

THE GLOBAL GENOCIDE OF YEAR 2020 BY THE CORONAVIRUS: THE PROLOGUE \- ENDIONG TONY SAVIOUR

THE GLOBAL GENOCIDE Part 2 \- ENDIONG TONY SAVIOUR

THE BEGINNING _-_ KEISHA ACUFF

FLUSH \- EVELYN JOIE

WIDOW OF THE PANDEMIC _-_ KEISHA ACUFF

GLOW AGAIN \- KEISHA ACUFF

POST LOCK DOWN _-_ KEISHA ACUFF

PART FOUR - FICTION

SHORT-SHORT

ONE LAST DAY _-_ CHIMNAZAM

LOCKDOWN CALL _-_ ONYEKACHI PETER

THE RADIO ANNOUNCEMENT _-_ UKEME EDUNG

TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN _-_ OLUWATIMILEHIN ATERE

SHORT STORIES

DEAR DIARY _-_ EVELYN JOIE

DON'T TALK TO FAIRIES _-_ LOVENDER S. WHITE

JOY RIDE _-_ REMY OLIVER

I WANT TO SEE YOU _-_ LOVENDER S. WHITE

10:30 PM _-_ EDIDIONG ESSHIET

ABOUT THE AUTHORS

TFOL EDITORIAL TEAM

CONTACT

### DEDICATION

To the Almighty God

For life and for inspiration.

To all the coauthors,

For your faith in this project.

### ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

A debt of gratitude to Chinyere Nnaemeka, Ukeme Edung and Dr. Eyo-Ita; editors of this project. Your supports over the years have been heartwarming and can't go unnoticed. May God bless you. To the co-authors whose works made this book a reality, thank you. To Sheryl Steines, Dr. Nneka Sophie Amalu, Akshata Sachin Mali; Dawn Hartley and Jonathan Robertson for those suggestions, insight and support you gave. To our Friends and Families, of which we can't do without; and to many others who would prefer not to be mentioned, I thank you!
**Edited by**

Chinyere Nnaemeka

Emmanuel Eyo Ita Junie

Edidiong Esshiet

Ukeme Edung

Cover Design and Layout by:

Victor Peter

"Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times if one only remembers to turn on the light"

\- J.K Rowling

### PROLOGUE

_Coast to Coast_ is an anthology comprising essays, poems, photo essays and fictions from a few bright minds around the world. The ideas in this book is inspired from the authors' experiences of their various environments and the passion to share these experiences. Hence, this book observes different narratives affecting society particularly on migration and pandemics. To enjoy the smooth literary ride _Coast to Coast_ offers, please note that this book has Four parts: Part one- Essays, Part Two - Poetry, Part Three – Photo Essays; Part Four - Fiction. For Poetry there are four sub sections – Pandemics, Migrations, Freestyle and Hope. While Fiction comprises flashfics, and short stories. It is hoped that this book will be a boon to individuals as well as to literary groups who will find much to discuss within its pages. As such, explore life through another's eyes for you never know the life lessons you might pick up along the way. Do have a wonderful time reading this book!

### PART ONE

### ESSAYS

"The most important things are the hardest to say because words diminish them"

\- Stephen King

### A BREAK FROM THE RAT RACE OF LIFE: LESSONS FROM THE LOCKDOWN

SYLVIA ROBERTSON

It's year 2020. We live during a time when social media is more prevalent than ever and TV series are more popular than books. We crave posting glamorous pictures on the social media that make our lives look like one highlight after another. Since the Coronavirus pandemic seized the world in March, pressing the pause button as it invaded, what's truly important comes to the surface. Now, we are left puzzled because we can't go out and explore; can't go on vacations, attend big events, walk around the mall, or even meet a friend for coffee. While many countries enforced lockdown as an effort to slow the spread of the virus, enabling hospitals to swiftly prepare; many of us are confined in our homes, with the exception of essential workers. We are left to explore just our homes and walking trails. What is there to post on social media then? Ironically, we might find out that what we choose to do during lockdown portrays a more authentic version of ourselves rather than some posed pictures on the internet which reveals the superficiality behind social networking sites; especially if we take the time to explore ourselves –our interests and passions.

Undoubtedly, the pandemic made life uncomfortable and even stressful. If you want to read about all the negatives, you can find plenty on the news. Let's briefly drift our attention to a few things we can do differently and some lessons we can learn from this time.

• **THE IMPORTANCE OF NOURISHING PASSIONS**

When our schedules aren't so free, if free time ever presents itself, we often feel drained of energy to do anything except relax in front of the TV. Although it's an entertaining way to unwind, we often neglect taking the time to nourish our passions, the little things that fill us with joy. Some people would admit that they strangely enjoy the copious amount of time lockdown provides to revisit old, neglected hobbies such as spending hours reading books or even discover a new hobby. In fact, some creativity has come out of this odd time as artists are igniting their passion for creating art or making music. When there's nothing else to do, wherever your interests guide you reveals the activities that spark real joy within you. It's a chance to discover something about yourself. For once, there's time to try the habits you always wanted to try but never had time for such as meditation or journaling.

• **REMINDER TO CHECK ON OTHERS**

There's no better time to check on contacts than during a frightening pandemic. The chances are everyone you know is facing a struggle during this time, whether it's related to illness, a job, and/or mental health. When life gets busy and we react on auto-pilot, it may feel instinctive to repeat the response, "I'm busy", turning down opportunities to socialize and forgetting to reach out to others. When our to-do list piles up, leaving us feeling swamped, socializing may get tossed aside. Now, many of our to-do lists are nearly empty, and this response is no longer valid. Through Zoom meetings and Skype calls, there are plenty of opportunities to spend time socializing! This time should remind us of the importance of connecting with others. It's nice to have support from other people if we are ever going through a difficult time, and now that almost everyone is going through a difficult time, we need each other. Some may realize how disconnected they were before due to the distraction of a busy life. When the lockdown is over and it's safe to hang out with people in person, we should celebrate and embrace being around other people.

• **A TIME TO DECLUTTER (OUR SPACE AND OUR MINDS)**

Being stuck inside all day, especially on a rainy day, it's the perfect time to clean out a closet. There might be items sitting around untouched that could be sold on eBay. Therefore, decluttering could also put a little money in your bank. People say that a cluttered space is a cluttered mind. Find out if anything in your space is making you feel cluttered. You might be surprised what you learn.

If you take the time to nourish your passions during lockdown, instead of feeling like you're trapped in prison, you might even find that your day feels strangely busy without the hustle and bustle of life's "rat race". If you're an essential worker or someone working long hours from home, then your experience will obviously be a bit different. However, taking time for passions, checking on others, and _decluttering_ can prove useful for anyone no matter how abundant your free time is. Fortunately, apart from the widespread panic and grieving, there are at least some concepts to grasp and try to mindfully incorporate into our lives moving forward. After all, what's truly important in life? It seems the world could be asking us this question right now in 2020.

###

### MIGRATIONS IN HISTORY

VAUN FIEDLER

Migration: moving from one location to another.

We see this in the behavior of certain birds and butterflies on an annual basis. What about migration of people? We can look through recorded history and see that the migration of people from one region to another is an age old phenomenon, peculiar to all epoch of history. Under what types of circumstances or conditions has the migration of peoples happened?

Looking at the history of my country, the United States of America, we see that many people came seeking freedom to worship according to the dictates of their own religious beliefs. Whenever we see a nation which is under the control of a religion there will be a great tendency to oppress those who hold different beliefs. That is only to be expected! So ideally, if one does hold different beliefs, they will seek a land where they are free to hold their views without repercussions.

Another cause that our history gives us a view is hunger. Between 1845 and 1849 the Irish potato famine saw many Irish families moving from Ireland to the United States. This was because of the blight affecting the potato crops in Ireland the harvest was very low and prices were high. There were also a large number of people starving to death. Between deaths and emigration some estimates state that the population dropped between 20 and 25 percent.

Yet another reason people have left their native lands to come here is sometimes related to the first one listed; the oppression of people by their Governments. Oppression of the people by their own Governments is regrettable, yet it is sometimes understandable when viewed from the outside. Some nations impose very strict birth controls and expectations. Why? This is because they're seeking to control their population's growth to the best of their abilities within their own ideologies. Again this is an understandable goal.

We see that there is another reason why people will leave their homelands: fear for their health!

History shows that deaths were so bad during the Black Death, Black Plague or Bubonic Plague, (mid 1300s) whatever term you're familiar with, that the dead were piled onto wagons and hauled daily to trenches to be burned. They could not allow normal funerals to take place for fear of causing more illness. The primary cause for the spread of this disease was fleas. This could rightly be classified as a pandemic because it affected Europe and Asia. According to Wikipedia if treated mortality rate was 10 percent, if not treated it was between 30 and 90 percent. Those who were spared often sought to move to get away from terrible memories. Others, paying attention to how the illness was moving through one town or township after another, noticed it moving in their direction, and chose to move away prior to its arrival.

When there is an epidemic or pandemic, if possible some people will move out of their home area in search of a safer area to live.

Today we are faced not with an epidemic, but with a pandemic. Large numbers of people have lost their lives, a greater number of people have recovered or are recovering from Covid19. I am curious to see if survivors of the virus will move to be near one another in hopes of a shared immunity keeping a renewed occurrence of the disease at bay. Then too, will others seek to strengthen communities which have been hard hit by this disease? Others may seek to move to be nearer to extended family.

There is another reason people have moved to the United State of America, it is viewed by many as the land of opportunity! Come with what you have, work hard and persevere and you may work your way to financial freedom not to be experienced anywhere else. Only some will actually reach such goals, but the freedom to strive to reach them is there.

Another look at our history reveals an interesting period of migration, the gold rush era. Settlers originally seeking land grants for homesteading often were attracted or lured by the stories of gold strikes being made which turned poor people into wealthy individuals almost overnight!

Between 1848 and 1855 " _California! Here I come!_ " became the rallying cry of many people during those hectic days of the California Gold Rush! Although history also shows that not all who migrated during those days did so to join the direct search for gold. Many merchants and other members of society joined the movement of people in the rush! Perhaps not all were directly searching for gold mines, but all were seeking to improve their financial standing. Sometime later, after things had settled down in California, the gold rush fever struck again in Alaska. Between the years 1896 and 1899 gold prospectors and others flooded the territory of Alaska. Variously called the Alaska Gold Rush or the Klondike Gold Rush perhaps the most memorable name from that time is the Klondike. People rushed once again after the lure of easy wealth to be had if you found gold.

There is another cause of migrations among people. War! Wars of conquest often bring huge numbers of incoming people ready to take advantage of the victor's rights to acquire land and to subjugate the native population.

Look at the spread of the Roman Empire, first the legionnaires and then the merchants. This pattern seems to also match the spread of the British Empire, first came the soldiers and then all the merchants. After all, it cost a lot to wage war! The merchants had to bear the brunt of paying for the expansion of the empire.

Admittedly there is a certain amount of overlapping within these areas we have looked at: oppression and illness often go hand in hand with war.

It will be interesting to wait and see if there will be a measurable migration effect noticed as a result of this pandemic.

###

### PANDEMIC IN OUR TIMES

VAUN FIEDLER

I never thought I'd see a worldwide pandemic! But here we are. What is the difference between an epidemic and a pandemic? An epidemic is considered to be an outbreak of an infectious disease within a large geographic area. For example, if there is an outbreak of a flu in the Seattle and Tacoma region of the state of Washington, that would be an epidemic. A pandemic would involve a much larger region; say one or more countries or continents.

Now we face Covid19! It is in Europe, Asia, Africa, Australia and the Americas! How has it impacted my life? What may I reasonably expect going forward? I expect others are facing similar questions for their lives.

I have COPD (Chronic Obstruction Pulmonary Disease); I had a bad flare up following the flu. My medications were not handling the situation well. I ended up going to see my primary care physician, which was a novel experience for me. He came out to my car, instead of me going in to see him. After checking my vitals he listened to my breathing. He gave me a prescription for a steroid and as a precaution ordered a test for Covid19. After having the test, I had to act as if I had tested positive. What that meant for me and my family was that I had to stay inside my room, pending the results of the test. Fortunately for me it is the master bedroom and includes the master bath. The bathtub in the bathroom needs replaced because of a cracked bottom which slowly leaks. But for the duration I made do with using the bathtub for short quick baths. That was rather a challenge in itself because the tub is only accessible for about half its length. I have a piece of plywood over the end of the tub away from the faucet and we are using the area as storage.

My wife stayed on the couch just outside the bedroom. She would bring my meals and later pick up the dishes. She was getting frustrated the longer we waited because we both could see that I was getting better, and that the results were going to be negative. I had been told by the nurse who performed the test that my doctor would call with the results. That didn't happen! I actually waited an extra three days after the results were back, before discovering that my doctor had left a written message with the results in their secure appointment and messaging app. My only access to that is through a link found to their website in their Facebook page.

My wife and I were both grateful to learn the results were negative just as we both believed. Was free to leave my bedroom! My wife was free from feeling like I was her master and she a slave.

I'm an amateur photographer with fibromyalgia and to control my symptoms naturally I take multiple daily walks. After six days I was more than ready to get out: go for walks again and take more nature photos.

For me, the quarantine period impacted me the most. During my quarantine period I took a few photos inside my bedroom, just for something to do. I also decided that I wanted to use my time to improve my abilities as a photographer: one of the skills I needed to work on was post processing. Since I do almost all my photography and sharing from my cell phone, it makes perfect sense to me to concentrate on mastering the use of photo editing apps on my Samsung Galaxy S10 Plus and on my Samsung Galaxy Tab E, which I had also used to take photos.

I have a Facebook friend who on several occasions posted photos on my time line with the invitation to edit the photos any way I chose to. On the day I read the results of the Covid19 test, Jay's son, Willie, took a couple of photos for me to edit. A very thoughtful young boy!

My wife is a preschool teacher working for a local school district. She has been able to do work online sending emails with suggestions and directions for projects parents or guardians can do with her students. She is at home a lot more than either of us are used to.

Our church family has prayer meetings, Bible study classes, and sermons available online now also. I do miss the personal touch of shaking hands and chaste hugs from fellow members though. Another impact on our lives has been the newly imposed restrictions on visitors at the rehab facility my mom is in. Only those facing a soon approaching death are allowed visitors. This has impacted spouses, children and grandchildren as well as other friends and family members of residents.

Looking Ahead

At some point in time we fully believe these restrictions will be lifted. Relatives will be able to visit each other again. Families will be able to take vacation trips. National parks, state, county and city parks will reopen. People will be able to return to work. But what will that look like? Many small businesses have lost so much in being forced to close that they will no longer remain in business. Where will their employees go? It is possible that there will be new startup businesses doing much of their business online?

Some of the larger businesses will be facing changes as well. I imagine there will be a lot of work still being done online. Retail business will likely recover to some extent: after all, people need to purchase all kinds of things to continue life as they are used to. With the vast increase in numbers of people on unemployment, there will be many who will require retraining before they can enter into the new workforce environment.

One positive thing that may come from all this is possible improvement in cultural understanding. I have social media contacts worldwide: on a personal level we find many common issues in which we can discover fresh ideas to approach minor problems with. Each such sharing may result in improved appreciation for the respective culture. Another possible expectation for the future may well follow as a result of an increase in virtual travel through YouTube videos. People may have glimpses now of intriguing places and peoples they would like to experience for themselves in person. Looking at the bigger picture: is it possible that nations will work more closely together than before? Will they come together willing to focus on similarities in goals, problems and solutions? Or will they continue the same old ways, blaming others for the ills of the world?

I mentioned before that I have social media friends from around the world, though our cultures are different, we still find ways to encourage one another, to seek answers to perplexing situations. It is possible as individuals to work together despite our differences: can we then as individuals work to influence our respective Governments to set aside differences and to earnestly cooperate in searching for solutions for the problem issues facing our world?

What does lie ahead? I'm not sure anyone really knows. I do believe though that as individuals we have the potential to shape our future. We must remain positive!

###

### PART TWO

### POETRY

" _Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart."_

\- William Wordsworth

*** PANDEMICS***

_HUSH -_ UKEME EDUNG

_IN THE YEAR 2020 -_ HULLABALOO 22

_AN ENEMY LIVES AMONG US -_ OBINNA LAWRENCE OZEH

_FEAR IN A MASK -_ GIMBIYA GALADIMA

_COVID 19 -_ SEHLOHO PIET RAMPAI

_AN OUTBREAK -_ ABDUL MAJIID K. ABDUL AZIS

_UNPREPARED -_ KEISHA ACUFF

_SCOURGE OF THE VILLAIN -_ OMOYEME EUNICE OSARA

_RATTUS PUNDIT -_ OBINNA LAWRENCE OZEH

_PAINFUL LAUGHTER -_ AL-AMIN EL-NASIR

_APOCALYPSE -_ SEHLOHO PIET RAMPAI

_VIRAL WARP AND WEFT -_ HULLABALOO22

_ODE TO THE DIVINE CORONER -_ UKEME EDUNG
HUSH

UKEME EDUNG

_Veni ven_ i1

The world is at a standstill.

Flung and tossed by the corona

The plague has greeted the clouds

Traveling to and fro the earth.

It is a tale of corpses told by whirling sirens

Our faith seeming nowhere to be found.

This grip of panic pounce on our _Chi_ ... 2

Piping through faraway lands...

Traffic lights conduct no more

Empty streets in Basilica, Lagos, Cape Town, Paris, New York, Mecca and even Jerusalem;

Like empty vessel they also lie still in isolation.

The viral pilgrims now progress.

Halting the feast of Easter and already laying ambush for Ramadan

Here:

our hope is stiffened and aimlessly shaky

Even _Ekpo_ and _Ekpe_ 3 diviners

hold hearts in their hands...

Awaiting the _tigritude_ 4 of death;

Whose fangs have beaten deep into the earth.

The dying now mourns the dead.

Tell me _Ori_ 5 :

Who stirred the viral den of dead?

Who woke up the viral _venum_ 6 in slumber?

Does it live now amongst men?

The days draw nigh

The whole _Dunia_ 7 at akimbo

Awaiting the corona ambassador

_Mornie Utulie_ 8

I lift up my head

To the spectacle of the viral noir

_le monde est toujours_ 9

The viral shadow calls

_Mornie alantie..._ 10

_______________________

1 (Latin) - Oh Come Oh come

2 A personal human god that guides the soul of a man (Igbo Mythology)

3 Ekpo/Ekpe - A cultural society from the Efik, Ibibio and Annang in Cross River/Akwa Ibom States, Nigeria.

4 The venom or poison from the pangs or bite of a tiger.

5 A Yoruba god consulted in times of trouble. This god is meant to bring solution. (Yoruba Mythology).

6 Venom (The author is exercising his Poetic license)

7 (Hausa Language) - Life; the lots of life

8 (Latin) - Darkness has come

9 (French) - The world is still

10 (Latin) - Darkness has fallen

###
**IN THE YEAR 2020**

HULLABALOO22

And so it came to pass

that in the year of 2020

mankind was faced

with making a decision

A tiny microorganism

took root,

spread

and laid down the

gauntlet.

People watched

from a distance

as lives were up-ended,

turned upside down

and too many paid the ultimate price

of a tragic death.

How many thought

'Thank God, it's them

not us'?

A bit premature they were

in that sentiment,

for we live in the Global Age

Nothing will stay

where it began

and this threat,

it was on accomplished hitch hiker

and had plenty that unknowingly

gave it a lift.

Nowhere is safe,

nowhere is immune

from a virus that can be passed on

by the simplest, most rudimentary

and necessary action

of taking a breath.

Such a tiny thing

and yet its power

is shaking society to

its very core

and is forcing the question

What do you value most?

Business

or life?

###
AN ENEMY LIVES AMONG US

OBINNA LAWRENCE OZEH

I have known you only by heart

A product of my misbehaving hands

In my sub consciousness did you reveal the villain,

Dressed with bright red punctures like a waiting bride

But only I knew you from the inside.

I formed you with 11 characters

I showed you among my friends

What did you do to me?

You took away my happiness like you always wished

Little wonder did mother earth reform you with 6 characters.

You broke the four walls where you were formed in Asia

Poisoned the mind and body of my friends,

Left many homeless and misfortune.

You threatened the authorities as you wished,

You made my home a ghost town.

I thought we had a covenant for a trial

You breached yours because of greed

Now you have visited my brothers in Europe,

I now hear you make contact through the air

That your wings spread when we inhale into our respiratory tract.

Now my Negros friends in Africa have seen you,

COVID-19 is what mother earth calls you.

Even though you spread your wrath

You end will come this year,

Even though thousands have lost their lives because of you,

You are truly an enemy that lives among us.

###
FEAR IN A MASK

GIMBIYA GALADIMA

The news flashes like a torchlight

into our very eyes

reality cuts with its knife

barrels cost more than oil

rulers are getting deposed

anyone who speaks is an enemy

poverty kills

fear faster in any developing society

nose masks

have tripled in price

as well as rice

and anything we can eat

there is a pandemic

and we cannot even feed

how can we wash our hands?

when there is no water

how can poor people

afford hand sanitizer?

yet the cases keep increasing

geometrically, inducing fear

fear that we hide behind a mask

in our "it's not my portion"

"God forbid" and declarations

we are sleeping children

that wake up and forget our dreams

then reject the reality that stares us

in the face, an ugly broken mirror.

###
COVID 19

SEHLOHO PIET RAMPAI

Unknown to inhabitants,

Making a headway via a glance,

It is a demeaning omen of earth,

Fit for the fight for life over death.

Pursuing no other further,

That man's earnest dealings,

It hardens exuberant feelings,

As teeth gnashing is the day's order.

In the name of infirmities,

Others grievously call for a revival

Some suffer desperately for

Survival,

As many lose their lives

And properties.

To heal is excruciating,

To stay alive is compelling,

As its symptoms are physical,

We shall forever remain fiscal.

###
AN OUTBREAK

ABDUL MAJIID K. ABDUL AZIS

More contagious

Than a virus

For it spreads faster than it.

Alarming

than an actual attack

for it disturbs

the social harmony.

More deceiving

than an illusion

for it tricks everyone

quicker than a magician.

Most disturbing

than a puzzle,

hard to decipher

like a person

who is actually

complex in mind

and personality

This epidemic !

This outbreak

Is termed CORRUPTION,

Not just in the government

But in life as a whole.

###
UNPREPARED

KEISHA ACUFF

We're supposed to protect

Without the right supplies

Ignoring all the guidelines

Hoping no one dies

They want to flatten the curve

To find a cure and soon

We're searching for the answers

Led by a buffoon

Trying to find some hope

We plaster up our hearts

Hope to God the riots don't begin to start

Jobless but overworked

Tired and on our own

Worried the economy is burning to the ground

Stay at home orders

Have gotten us all scared

With a worldwide pandemic

We were surely not prepared

###
SCOURGE OF THE VILLAIN

OMOYEME EUNICE OSARA

Oh! Earth why do thou flee?

Come out now fight like Bruce Lee,

Thy err is fair with glee,

Thy air smells scents with pee.

As your Hunger and Hate dates,

Sickness and Diseases share same fate,

Their bite is rudely meek

Earth, your skin rotten from epidemic.

But your heart stayed clay,

We saw you flirt with _Epidemy,_ 11

You thought it came for play,

It signed a deal with new enemy.

And now Earth your grin is in fleet,

Your frown and despair wins tweet,

The taste of fear is sweetly bitter,

The corpse of thy sons largely litter.

The Pandemic flew without planes,

It hid openly in the plain,

We slumbered, it slay on our lanes,

We now hide in homes from scourge of the Villain.

________________________

11 Epidemic - (Author utilizes her Poetic License)

###
RATTUS PUNDIT

OBINNA LAWRENCE OZEH

Today I will be on screen to speak

I will tell you about my siblings

I know I have lost my place from my clan

But I will shave the hair on my tail in disagreement

Because my clan have exploited humans.

Tomorrow I will show you where they invade

They will hide in your homes

They will hide in your trousers and shirt

They will camouflage in your kitchen

Because they are infected with Lassa.

In a fortnight they will crawl on your foods

They will infect your foods

They will defecate on your food

Because you left them open

My clan will kill humans if care is not taken.

Next month humans will develop symptoms

Humans will develop high fever

As if water can be boiled from their sweat

They cannot be saved on their own

Except they call on orthodox drugs.

In 6 months time humans will develop Lassa fever

Blood will ooze from their openings because of neglect

Lassa fever will kill many like it did in the past

Except humans keep their homes clean

I have told you what my clan will do.

###
PAINFUL LAUGHTER

AL-AMIN EL-NASIR

You recently laugh too loud in anger,

Your ray lay ways of pains upon your children

Striking hard like quarter past noon.

We dare not look in to your wieldering eyes,

As you jounce our world with stinging bites.

Smile on us, for your laughter is full of pain.

Sucking the hydro in us with no vapour,

Melting the commonness in our senses.

You suckling piece of balloon! Look away.

Boiling thirsty _Soen_ 12 of the Sky! Look away.

As you profusely turn our Niger to desert.

Smile on us, for your laughter is full of wrath.

Your might is becoming _mighteous_.

As we revolve around your majesty,

Sucking dry the Nile. O dear Mother!

How can you give and take, Mother?

Who took away your happiness, Mother?

Bane photosynthesis lay bare on chlorophyll.

Mother, be like father, who smiles every night.

Smile on us, for your laughter is full of sorrow.

_________________________

12 Sun

###
APOCALYPSE

SEHLOHO PIET RAMPAI

Having gone viral,

Its demand are of a ritual,

None shall be silent to this

Menace,

None shall uphold its stingy

Furnace.

Never expect any fun,

To get every right done,

And before any due dismissals,

Take proper and effective referrals

Where really necessary,

Without legal formalities,

To make living extraordinary,

Consult the supreme authority.

To secure a height,

Fight with all might,

At the sight of its flood,

With your last droplet of blood.

In the battle field,

None is to be retreated,

And for good fruits to yield,

Its soul will always be defeated

###
VIRAL WARP AND WEFT

HULLABALOO22

It broke itself down into macro-microscopic parts

then mingled with others

before tearing back apart.

A hotchpotch of many;

components of one

fragments of another

which made it similar,

yet so very different

to other viral outbreaks

from the past.

In the end,

the differences won;

for the viral warp and weft

resulted in an epidemic

with no treatment,

no cure,

no inoculation.

Nothing to do but let it run its course

while scientists scrabble

to find a magic bullet

that will go on in and blow apart

the offending microorganism.

If known to be infected

then isolate;

stay away from everyone

and lock yourself down.

Pray

to God,

to Nature,

to Fate

or simply to the Cosmos

that the warp and _wefted_ virus

will pass you by

and hope that eventually

it will simply be defeated

or will die.

###
ODE TO THE DIVINE CORONER

UKEME EDUNG

Dear God!

We have brought the world on a stretcher

We run hurriedly to thy refuge...

We have brought the world in an ambulance;

Carried by doctors whose act of martyr is diagnosed abortive.

Dear God!

the world throb;

Its heart beat skipping

Its nucleus poisoned by atomic corona.

Dear God!

We gather thee our fate

At the horizon of Bethesda

We await thy heavenly ether;

Capable of injecting the umbilical cord of the globe.

our faith hits the leaping rock of hope...

Dear God!

These viral _pilgrim-ninjas_ must not elapse their sojourn...

Dear God

These are frail voices of the remains.

Send thy Angelic-Musketeers

###
*** MIGRATION***

_HOME -_ CLARENCE CARVEL

_THE ISLAND GIRL -_ BEL WRITER

_TEARS ARE BETTER IN THE SNOW -_ GIMBIYA GALADIMA

_ANCESTRAL DOMAIN -_ ABDUL MAJIID K. ABDUL AZIS

_COAST TO COAST -_ OBINNA LAWRENCE OZEH

_TIME TRAVEL: 2080 -_ ENAMIDEM UDOUSORO

_EXODUS -_ OMOYEME EUNICE

_FOREIGN_ \- BEL WRITER

_MITIGATING CIRCUMSTANCES -_ HULLABALOO22

_I LEFT -_ ABDUL MAJIID K. ABDUL AZIS

HOME

CLARENCE CARVEL

I left home searching for someplace that would hold me and my dreams;

this was no easy decision; imagine leaving the place that gave you your name.

Imagine looking into the eyes of the people that nursed you, taught you, fed you,

prayed for you, loved you, to tell them you are leaving in search of a place that

could love you more. Leaving home is not easy but sometimes it is necessary

Sometimes home becomes a weapon, a battlefield of ideals, a recycled doctrine

fuel by hatred; and when you arrive at this place that is big enough to hold you

and your dreams, you plant your feet in the dirt just deep enough so your walls

don't come crashing down. You grow roots but just enough to keep you standing

when the storms come. I left home searching for someplace that would hold me

and my dreams, only to find out that I can never leave home never

###
THE ISLAND GIRL

BEL WRITER

She was born by the sea,

Her lullaby the ocean's song

The political turmoil she had to see,

pushed her to learn how to be strong.

From her land she had to leave,

Salty tears left behind

Searching for mountains so she can live,

Wishing time she could rewind.

She adapts even though it's hard.

The sound of the waves forever in her heart.

###
**TEARS ARE BETTER IN THE SNOW**

GIMBIYA GALADIMA

I have always been a crier

my eyes betray me first

then my lips activate

the sobbing that reveals

the anger in my soul

My country pushed me down

like some bully at a playground

then destroyed my dreams and hopes

burnt my aspirations to the ground,

and I realized the time was right

to pack for some fresh start

My mother danced

there was a beautiful light

in my sibling's eyes

someone would drag the family

out of the deep well of poverty

we would be respected in society

I felt snow once

and laughter filled my eyes

laughter faded into a smile

the smile transformed into a frown

my tears have followed me here

like mischievous children

Everything costs money

my family sucks me

as petrol from some pipe

it's cold with nobody

nobody to talk to

going away is on my mind

but I should be fine

tears are better in the snow.

###
ANCESTRAL DOMAIN

ABDUL MAJIID K. ABDUL AZIS

It is their land

but they can't

live in it.

Ancestors left them

The wide and fertile land

The vastness is as far

As the eyes can see

From any direction.

Long before the coming

Of the hostile invaders

And colonizers.

They have been living here

Simply and peacefully.

Apparent authorities

Want to grab this land,

Driving away

The original settlers.

Claiming to be theirs

Showing papers as proof,

Intimidating them

Through pens and

Weapons.

Taking advantage

Of their innocence

About Western ideas.

They were

The Guardians of this

sacred land

But now,

they are the mere Tillers.

Paradoxically,

Temporary settlers

In their own land.

###
COAST TO COAST

OBINNA LAWRENCE OZEH

Becky, Becky mother whistled

As she spreads her full wings to bring warmth

My brothers have not hatched

But the pride of an eagle gives me hope.

The black and white colour was our camouflage

We met our doom

We must make haste now

Australia is on fire, run, run mother whistled

We left Australia just the two of us

Leaving my dead siblings behind

We are so scared as the look on mother showed it

I lay just between her claws with tears in my eyes.

She flew over several kilometers

Who knows where we are headed?

Mother had a compass on her eyes

We just landed in West Africa

West Africa blossomed beyond my imagination

With careless birds becoming moms prey

There we made a new home

But never a home can be compared to Australia

###
**TIME TRAVEL: 2080**

ENAMIDEM UDOUSORO

In a glass city I sit

Streets of gold and flying cars!

Skyscrapers reaching to the sky!

Strange metals combined for strength beauty and greatness!

Inventions of worth courted by worlds beyond!

Walls of glass and chairs of virtual reality!

A modern world of spirituality and the physical merged as one!!

You think its heaven but I tell you it's earth!

You think America! Britain! China! Canada!

I tell you indeed Nigeria, the city of Uyo!

Yes Nigeria we never traveled out of her!

We toiled! We laboured! We sacrificed

We wept! We cursed!

Cheated but strong!

We thrive! Yes we thrived!

Now here we are on the global map we shine!

Yes! I say we shine

Believe when I say we shine!

Courted by kings and mighty rulers of the earth

The birth place of geniuses! A city of prosperity!

Yes the world a global village we made our mark

The internet a home to reach the world

We never left the shores of Nigeria but across the globe we stood and shine!!

In 2020 I reverse to give this advice!

Relax and build your land

Don't run from the woes and hopelessness

For in the future you are a great dream

A light to the world

Please stay and build for the future

I shout out!

From the future I sound;

Greatness is in you please stay and build!!

###
EXODUS

OMOYEME EUNICE

As Green grew Grey

And foods fled from trays

Hope snubbed prayers and went astray

Our Future went rogue and strays.

Our Light shines brightly dark

Our home-grown dogs in Parliament lack bark

The path before us leads back

We are geared with bags and sacks.

Away and off we go

Away without any ego

An ego lost long ago

Onward we march without much ado.

Far from the hug of our Mothers

Yet from Religious murders

Far from the inheritance of our Fathers

Yet our Success is closely farther.

From birth as Denominators

Lizard Leaders tortured as Terminators

Our Hope and Tears is full of dust

Page a bag. There's Exodus!

###
FOREIGN

BEL WRITER

We were born by immigrants!

Greed and evil ambitions turned us

into foreigners in other lands.

We returned to our roots,

But we don't feel at home.

We speak the same language,

but we still sound so foreign!

foreign to the place I was born in,

foreign to the place I know

my ancestors were born in.

Where do I belong?

Alone, the nights feel so long.

No family around, no common

or familiar ground.

Without a home, just a memory-less house

foreign, alienated, rootless...

If you see someone like this,

Please be kind!

We have left everything behind.

###
**MITIGATING CIRCUMSTANCES**

HULLABALOO22

Stay put!

Do not move!

Don't you dare travel!

Life as we know it

begins to unravel.

Barriers up

and no crossing

the border;

this is no mere warning

but really an order

Back to your homes,

stay where you reside

and if you

are sick

then keep it inside.

No need to panic.

It's best to stay calm.

For most it is mild

and won't leave

lasting harm.

Don't be alarmed

by the things on the news;

you know they

depend on

hysterical views.

Just follow instructions,

you don't need to know;

the world now

in lock-down

but it soon will go.

Believe what we say

for we know

what's best;

take care of our own

and to Hell with the rest.

###
**I LEFT**

ABDUL MAJIID K. ABDUL AZIS

Because I had to

I left

Because it's unbearable

anymore.

My town

Had been engulfed

With adversity

And turmoil.

The leader becomes a boss

And people acted similar.

Anarchy and chaos

Took over the town.

Status quo was disturbed.

Social harmony had failed.

Fear and hatred had

reigned supreme

in a land where peace

was once the occupant.

My beloved land

What happened?

My people

What went wrong?

Is there still a chance?

###
***FREESTYLE***

_DOCKAY STILL LIKE MONEY -_ GIMBIYA GALADIMA

_IN_ _THE NAME OF PROGRESS -_ ABDUL MAJIID K. ABDUL AZIS

_LONG WALK TO FREEDOM -_ AL-AMIN EL-NASIR

_INHABITANTS OF EARTH -_ CLARENCE CARVEL

_SO LONG OUR LETTER -_ AL-AMIN EL-NASIR

_HOME -_ BEL WRITER

_OUR HOMESTEAD -_ UKEME EDUNG

_LOOKING ELSEWHERE -_ **CLA** RENCE CARVEL

_HOME COMING -_ UKEME EDUNG

_LESSONS FROM THE ENEMY -_ EDIDIONG ESSHIET
DOCKAY STILL LIKE MONEY

GIMBIYA GALADIMA

They open their mouths

to accuse me of being materialistic

of studying medicine in my country

and going abroad to practice

How unpatriotic?

to leave the hospitals that taught you

to leave the country that raised you

for a foreign life and foreign currency

My response is slow

my receptors are stressed

from too many rounds

and infinite number of patients

My anger is fueled

by a depressive pay slip

work hours designed to

drive me into mania

then the volatility

of hospital equipment

Is it a crime?

to want to live in a country

that provides insurance and security

to want to smile when I see my salary

to want a better life for my family

No, your Dockay still like money.

###
IN THE NAME OF PROGRESS

ABDUL MAJIID K. ABDUL AZIS

Shinning its rays

To the lush green forest,

Reflecting its light

On the little dew

Hanging from a leaf

And grasses on the ground.

The cold mists on

A flowing river

And crystal clear lake

As the tiny birds,

Happily chirp and sing

On a tree branch

Seem to be thanking

The Almighty Creator

For all His bliss and grace.

These are

what my ancestors

enjoyed for a very long time

until the coming

of the Westerners

claiming to be

the modern shepherd

of a God-given land

Disguised in a sheep's

clothing.

Driven farther

They are

To the hinterland

And deceived

In the name

Of progress.

###
**LONG WALK TO FREEDOM**

AL-AMIN EL-NASIR

My _Mission to Kala_ 13, _a long walk to freedom_ 14

I saw the dead _Invisible Man_ 15; called Sizwe

Lying in _The Wretched of the Earth_ 16 , like an _Abandoned Bundle_ 17

in _A nightfall in Soweto_ 18 .

A prisoner; Breaking Rock, Shifting Rock

Eating deep _In The Castle of their Skin_ 19

With stainless _Petals of Blood_ 20

Gallivanting like a ship with no rudder.

On the foreign soil, kings became slaves

Like an _Americanah_ 21 _Up from Slavery_ 22 ?

Homelessly lonely like _Lonely Londoner_ 23.

Is this poem of _Violence_ 24 _,_ _Not So Long a Letter_ 25

To wreck _The Purple violet of Oshaantu_ 26?

_Their Eyes were_ _watching God_ 27, they said

Fused in the Laming of their aching souls

Alas! We had a _Great Expectation_ 28,

Now disillusioned on the _Animal Farm_ 29.

As the _Fate of a Cockroach_ 30 now lies in the _Anthills of the Savannah_ 31.

While, _Beggars Strike_ 32 on their _Last Duty_ 33

Leading us to a deadly _House of Hunger_ 34.

_________________________

13 A novel by Mongo Beti - published 1957

14 An autobiography by Nelson Mandela – Published 1994 by Little Brown and Co

15 A novel by Ralph W. Ellison - Published 1952

16 A book by Franz Fanon published 1961

17 A poem by Oswald B. Mtshali - describes a shocking scene - dogs fighting over a baby they have found abandoned on a township rubbish dump...

18 A poem by Oswald B. Mtshali - which creates a picture of Nightfall in South Africa during colonialism, characterized by insecurity, fear and violence as opposed to the natural role of the night which is suppose to bring rest to man after daily activities.

19 An autobiographical novel by George Lamming - Published 1953

20 A novel by Ngugi Wa Thiong'o - Published 1977

21 A 2013 novel by Chimamanda N. Adichie

22 An Autobiography by Booker T. Washington. Published 1901

23 A novel by Samuel Selvon published 1956

24 A book by Festus Iyayi - 1979

25 A novel by Maraima Ba - 1979

26 A fiction by Neshani Andreas 2001

27 A 1937 novel by Zora Neale Hurston

28 An 1861 novel by Charles Dickens

29 An allegorical novella by George Orwell; published 1945

30 A book (Drama) by Tewfik Al-Hakim; 1973

31 A novel by Chinua Achebe; Published by Heinemann 1987

32 A novel by Aminata Sow Fall; 1981

33 A novel by Isidore Okpewho - 1976

34 A novella/short story collection by Dambudzo Marechera -1978

###
INHABITANTS OF EARTH

CLARENCE CARVEL

The glaciers are melting.

we need more skyscrapers

the forest is burning.

China needs more coal

hurricanes are getting stronger.

build bigger factories

We want meat

the planet is dying.

and we will die with it

if we don't save this economy.

###
SO LONG OUR LETTER

AL-AMIN EL-NASIR

_There was a Country_ 35, by the _People of the City_ 36.

Before _Things Fell Apart_ 37 right before our eyes,

On our _Last Duty_ 38, just before the _Violence_ 39

_The Man of the People_ 40, in his Agbada

Seen dismembering the center with his _Àké,_ 41

Reaping off the _Anthills of the Savannah_ 42.

Alas! A savannah of _Stillborn_ 43 : _Abiku_ 44.

_Kintu_ 45, the _Americanah_ 46, never quit saying,

_Everything Good will Come_ 47, a mere wish!

As all men _Hope in Anarchy_ 48 like _Half of a Yellow Sun,_ 49

setting in the North, raisin in the South.

Lo! There lies the _Joy of Motherhood_ 50

Beneath The barrenness of _a Virtuous Woman_ 51, Bivan.

Why bridge _The River Between_ 52

Only to save _the Poor Christ of Bomba_?53

Why destroy _Bivan's House_ ,54

Only to keep the mosque in order?

Oh _African Child_ 55, _Weep Not Child_ ,56

For _Everyman_ 57, there is A Raising in the Sun

For every _Heart of Darkness_ 58 lies _Vanity_.59

The wind has blown, we have seen their _yansh_ 60

Like _The Secret lives of Baba Segi's wives_ 61

Revealed right _Under the Udala Tree_.62

Tales we dare tell not,

_Troubadour we Traverse_.63

_________________________

35 (Book) A personal account of the Nigerian Civil war by Chinua Achebe – Published 2012

36 A novel by Cyprian Ekwensi – Published 1954

37 A novel by Chinua Achebe - Published 1958

38 A novel by Isidore Okpewho - Published 1976

39 A book by Festus Iyayi - Published 1979

40 A novel by Chinua Achebe – Published 1966

41 Aké The Years of Childhood - is a memoir by Wole Soyinka – Published 1981 by Rex Collings

42 A novel by Chinua Achebe; Published by 1987 Heinemann

43 A novel by Zainab Alkhali - 1984

44 A poem by Wole Soyinka & J. P Clark

45 A novel by Jennifer N. Makumbi -2014

46 A 2013 novel by Chimamanda N. Adichie - Published by Alfred A Knopf

47 A novel (psychological fiction) by Sefi Atta - Published 2005

48 A book (fiction) by Adamu Kyuka Usman –Published 2005

49 A 2006 novel by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie – Published by Knopf/Anchor

50 A novel by Buchi Emecheta

51 Book (fiction) by Zaynab Alkali – Published 1987

52 A novel by Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o – Published 1965

53 Book (fiction) by Mongo Beti – Published 1971

54 Book (fiction) by Adamu Kyuka Usman - Published 2011

55 A novel by Camara Laye published 1953 by Plon

56 A novel by Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o

57 Anonymous

58 A novella by Joseph Conrad – Published 1902

59 A poem by Birago Diop

60 A Nigerian slang for Butt, buttocks

61 A novel by Titilola Shoneyin - Published 2013

62 A novel by- Chinelo Okparanta – Published 2015

63 A poem written by Dennis Brutus

###
HOME

BEL WRITER

Home, where is home?

They say home isn't a bunch of walls,

But the people walking down their halls.

Home, where is home?

One day I had to wonder

I was leaving my house,

leaving my country.

Home, where is home?

It's not the land that watched me grow,

but it does hurt to let it go.

It feels strange to miss faces

I don't really know.

Home, why do I ask where?

As I get on my plane, I understand ,

home is not a _where_ but a _who_.

I'm never leaving home behind.

I will carry home in my heart!

###
OUR HOMESTEAD

UKEME EDUNG

Like tattered flags

It waves directionless

Its slopes _bearingless_

Our homestead is of two types

One scarcely habited by men in _Brocade_ _agbada_

Another cohabited by other men and their lots

Our homestead is so popular in faraway lands

A shit-hole chaired by elected viruses

mare men like grain of wheat dying in the sun

The reward of their toiling blood, tears and toiling sweat is looted by the invincible gatherers.

This our homestead

Is a giant African land

Our oasis in the South is feasted

By Gulliver politicians

Who _enroute_ in the day with dark tainted glasses

and dodge at night in barricade iron doors

to escape the wrath of their daily vices.

This homestead is now a battlefield

The line is drawn by those whose vain boil in anger

and hair of their skins is awaken by the dejavu of pain and hurt.

Our homestead is now

An eye saw...

Passerby watch in ewe

As those who live by the river Keep washing their hands with spittle

For other homesteaders

We await the second coming in our yard

Even the gods no longer understand the dance steps

These _Agbada brocade_ men

About to hit the cats back on the ground

I fear for those who build around this homestead a siege, cursing and dragging it to the mud;

mean men whose corrupt feast has no epilogue...

Grandfather's who have refused the waking stick and planted on their head artificial grasses.

this is our homestead

Our futures resist lessons of the past

So;

Let the piglet refuses not the morals from the mud as the mother pig scavenges...

Let the chick be alert to the call of the mother hen while he plunges the soil

In this homestead

Our ever burning boiling homestead

Its fate awaits not the hypothesis of Nostradamus

###
LOOKING ELSEWHERE

CLARENCE CARVEL

What do we want with mars

What could we possibly want there

that we don't already take for granted?

If I could talk to Mars

I'd say don't trust humans

I'd tell her that our smiles carry consequences

And that the only thing we have mastered

since we arrived on earth is abuse.

Now you might wonder why I would

air our dirty laundry like that

why I would tell the truth to a stranger

and I'd say because She deserves

to know that everything that glitters ain't gold

and that even the most envied star has its flaws.

This space exploration thing

is nothing more than our attempt to run away

from what we have no intention of fixing

so I'll ask again

what do we want with mars

what could we possible want there

That we don't already take for granted?

###
HOME COMING

UKEME EDUNG

On the other side of our expectations

We are called back

to remember..

that no more greener pastures awaiting us.

Our minds travel to far away land; abroad and beyond.

Here:

They drink our sweat

They spill our blood

They ignore our tears.

They harvest the fruits of the land at the corridor of power,

They squander it in offices and mansions barricaded by Alsatians

in Aso hamlet and Banana isle.

Here comes that miracle year 2020

After so many long nights and faulty years,

After so many shit that cannot be explained...

The life we search for

Looks not back into our eyes...

They are the cause...

The hunters of our dreams who like **Dinosaurians** split fire to burn down the bridges after they pass...

They push down the ladder after they climb

Today or one day,

The road will soon lead them back home,

the falcon will not hear the falconer

No more lies, jamboree nor razzmatazz theories.

It will be their turn to pay tax...

Our turn to collect them royalties...

It will be the reign of our native communist manifesto.

###
LESSONS FROM THE ENEMY

EDIDIONG ESSHIET

In the year 20-20

We the human race

Were threaten with extinction

from a tiny element

invisible to our eyes.

Our missiles couldn't stop

The invasion that moved

From coast to coast

Snapping out lives,

Crippling down businesses

and threatening social existence.

The world stand still

In awe of this-Year

That dribbles with riddles

Which bristle with puzzles,

hampering 21st Century blueprint

With lockdowns

And new norms.

A New Dawn

A New Norm!

What will be

the New World Order?

Ballistic missiles,

Or strong Public Health Systems?

The spread of nihilistic ideologies

Or the promotion

Of Quality Education?

Equality, respect for Persons

and Justice for All,

Or

A Global _postmodern barbarism_?

This enemy came like a flood

stripped us naked in the market square

Making bare, the Frailties in our Strengths,

Exposing the Vanity in our Reality

Nevertheless, the hour is nigh

To build a world

Where love and _Mbuntu_ 64

Takes precedence.

Be it known that,

This Enemy will go

like the tides,

Leaving its foot-prints

As reminders

to the essence

of our existence;

the importance

of mutual Love,

Truthfulness, Unity, Openness

and Social harmony,

amongst:

Hamlets, Cities, Nations,

Families,

And above all,

Within us.

________________________

64 A concept in Bantu languages – Eastern, Central and Southern Africa- which implies that every single human being only becomes a true human by means of relationship with other beings; it encompasses the philosophy of one for all, all for one; that "we live for one another, and without the other, we cease to exist."

###
* HOPE*

_I_ _WILL STAY AND BUILD -_ ENAMIDEM UDOUSORO

_FURTHER -_ EVELYN JOIE

_HOPE -_ SEHLOHO PIET RAMPAI

_A WAKE UP CALL -_ KEISHA ACUFF

_CHAOS -_ KEISHA ACUFF

_RISE AGAIN -_ EDIDIONG ESSHIET

_KISS THEM FOR ME: AN_ _ELERGY TO THE PAST-AWAY -_ UKEME EDUNG

I WILL STAY AND BUILD

ENAMIDEM UDOUSORO

All dead and dry around me

Dreams of childhood turned sour and gone

Grappling for hope and fame

that game that thrives the walls of history

Oh see!!

See the bright horizon

Shinning stars of distant shores

Land worked to success by intelligence and patience,

I reach to cross seas

This dream must live!

Oh see the multitude!

This Godforsaken land bid we farewell.

In toils and pains we cross seas and deserts

As slaves we serve in pine away!

In hunger all dreams n hope carried by the wind

Now all we do is thrive to survive each day the sun peeps upon our darkness!

Oh see the prosperity, all around we see

Oh see the greatness the pomp and the feast

Oh see! Oh see!

All around this great and bliss

But just see is all we do, wishing we could touch!!

I cry out to you

Oh see how I cry

My future! My children!

My generation to come

Sit still in your land dream n build

Look not too far away riches of dreams n wishes

Oh! How loud should I cry!

As loud as loud can be

Roam not the earth for in you is greatness!!

Intelligence! Patience! Perseverance! Unity! Peace and love

Foundations of future fortress built by men like you and me!

###
**FURTHER**

EVELYN JOIE

We don't live to suffer.

Getting stronger every day,

we will try, make it right, we will fight together.

Chasing the sun, forever

into the unknown, stumbling on our way.

We don't live to suffer.

To shape what is to come, we send a love letter.

"We're migrating today", it will say.

"We will try, make it right, we will fight together."

Taking with us, faith and wisdom, for the better.

Together, with the letter, we grasp a bouquet.

We don't live to suffer.

The mirage of our past is now to shatter.

Numerous eyes, never, to glance back at D-Day.

We will try, make it right, we will fight together.

Nothing else does now matter; we're here, with the letter.

Here, blissed by the sign of the times, we'll stay.

We tried, made it right, in our fight together.

###
**HOPE**

SEHLOHO PIET RAMPAI

Staring at the night

As the wishing star landed

Nowhere else to go

Other than inside my mind

I wished, wished and wished

I wish I could cry, but to who

I wish I could be loved, but by whom

I accept finite disappointment

But never shall I lose infinite hope

Its changes no states to my persistence

As I use endurance to fight my battle

Hope...the worst thing to be without...

###
A WAKE UP CALL

KEISHA ACUFF

Lend a helping hand

Do the best you can

Just be careful

Watch how close you stand

At least six feet apart

Is what they recommend

Helping from a distance

It's harder than it seems

We never thought this would happen

Not in our wildest dreams

As spring sets in

We can't go out

The world has been canceled

Yet flowers still sprout

The world is healing

Yet people die

This is a call

We need to wake up

###
**CHAOS**

KEISHA ACUFF

The world is in chaos

We're falling through the cracks

We're climbing up the slope

It's going rather fast

Try to stop the madness

Staying home has passed

Were exposed to all the nonsense

Spewed from the mouths of trash

They care less about the people

But more about the cash

The deaths should not have happened

The world should be at peace

Instead we are all dying

Soon we all will cease

If we pull together

We might just make it through

I'm hopeful things get better

At least I hope it's true.

###
RISE AGAIN

EDIDIONG ESSHIET

We are humbled

Not by horrors

But by lessons

While we wonder

Let us ponder

Over this blunder

Called Corona...

We'll wash our hands

With soap and water

Bathing our conscience

With sober reflections.

While mourning our losses

And burying our deceased,

Let's look at Heaven

for a new dawn cometh.

Though we've fallen,

We will rise again;

as we reset priorities

to smile again

Thrive again,

Love again,

Laugh again,

And _groove_ again.

For even the Sun

rises again,

at the end

of a darkest

Night.

###
KISS THEM FOR ME: AN ELERGY TO THE PAST-AWAY

UKEME EDUNG

Those who have gone with the tide,

those who passed away

overclouded by the shadows of fear

and their hopes for survival shipwrecked and caved in...

Kiss them for me...

Those whose feeble hearts gradually beat till death...

Those whose bud of faith was nibbled by the phobia of the traveling viral ninja...

Kiss them for me...

Loved ones taken away by the cold hands of death coming earlier than expected;

their memories bring back the pains and ordeals...

Despite the rites and rituals of sanitary keeping...

Yet, we still could not conduct a burial ceremony to tell the tale of their struggle to survive...

Kiss them for me

Those whose life and dreams ended like half of a yellow sun.

Tell the souls of the departed to pray for us

For we do not know

who next is to be taken ?

So !

Kiss them goodbye for me

From earths coast to coast

We come to lower the flag...

###

### PART THREE

PHOTO ESSAYS

"The hidden harmony is better than the obvious"

\- Pablo Picasso

MIGRATION OF BIRDS IN INDIA

GAURAV P. PATIL

THE MIGRANT'S DELIMMA

KEISHA ACUFF

MIGRANTS' ROAD MAP

KEISHA ACUFF

THE GLOBAL GENOCIDE OF YEAR 2020 BY THE CORONAVIRUS: THE PROLOGUE

ENDIONG TONY SAVIOUR

THE GLOBAL GENOCIDE OF YEAR 2020 BY THE CORONAVIRUS (Part2)

ENDIONG TONY SAVIOUR

THE BEGINNING

KEISHA ACUFF

WIDOW OF THE PANDEMIC

KEISHA ACUFF

POST LOCK DOWN

KEISHA ACUFF
**MIGRATION OF BIRDS IN INDIA**

Flamingos and other waders in Mumbai, Maharashtra, India

Plovers in Karwar, Karnataka, India

Terns, Malvan, Maharashtra, India

Plovers, Karwar, Karnataka, India

Mumbai, Maharashtra, India
Location:

The photographs of the birds in the photo story are clicked at following locations:

1. Mumbai, Maharashtra, India.

2. Karwar, Karnataka, India.

3. Malvan, Maharashtra, India.

4. Karwar, Karnataka, India

5. Mumbai, Maharashtra, India

**Description:** Bird migration has always fascinated me as a kid. In last few years, I got a chance to travel all along the west coast of India. Being a marine biology student, I got to see shore birds very closely. Even after completing my studies, shore birds remained special for me as I kept observing them from my field base. They don't have colourful feathers like their relatives which live in forests, but the flock of shore birds moving along the sea shore, diving in water, landing on the sand banks to feed or to rest is one of the most peaceful sights for me. Here, in the photo story I have intentionally kept photographs in monochrome, which diverts our focus from their colours and keep us engaged observing their movements as a flock and the peaceful surroundings in which they live.

THE MIGRANT'S DELIMMA

_(painting)_

KEISHA ACUFF)

MIGRANTS' ROADMAP

_(An abstract painting)_

KEISHA ACUFF

_THE GLOBAL GENOCIDE OF YEAR 2020 BY THE CORONAVIRUS_ \- THE PROLOGUE

(Painting)

Endiong Saviour

THE GLOBAL GENOCIDE Part 2

_(_ Painting)

Endiong Saviour

THE BEGINNING

_(An abstract painting)_

KEISHA ACUFF

_FLUSH_

(An abstract painting depicting social anxiety)

EVELYN JOIE

_WIDOW OF THE PANDEMIC_

_(A painting)_

KEISHA ACUFF

_Glow Again: Post Pandemic_

(A sketch)

KEISHA ACUFF

POST LOCK DOWN

_(A painting)_

KEISHA ACUFF

### PART FOUR

### FICTION

"You control your own life. Your own will is extremely powerful."

\- J.K Rowling

* **Short-short ***

_ONE LAST DAY -_ CHIMNAZAM

_LOCKDOWN CALL_ _-_ ONYEKACHI PETER

_THE RADIO ANNOUNCEMENT_ _-_ UKEME EDUNG

_TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN_ _-_ OLUWATIMILEHIN ATERE

* **Short Stories***

_DEAR DIARY_ _-_ EVELYN JOIE

_DON'T TALK TO FAIRIES_ _-_ LOVENDER S. WHITE

_JOY RIDE_ _-_ REMY OLIVER

_I WANT TO SEE YOU_ _-_ LOVENDER S. WHITE

_10:30 PM_ _-_ EDIDIONG ESSHIET
ONE LAST DAY

CHIMNAZAM

A roughly dressed and visibly shaken Dera peeps out of the window as if to check for something. She closes the curtains hurriedly and walks towards her kids, Susie and David who are tightly seated, with fear and confusion written all over their faces.

Dera picks up her kids and sits them on her laps. She then looks sternly at David and begins to instruct him

"Now I don't want any of you leaving this room under any circumstance. It's not safe out there anymore! Do you understand me?"

There's total silence.

Dera panicky asks again

'Do you understand me?'

Yes ma'am. David replies reluctantly. Little Susan nods her head in agreement and yawns, indicating she's hungry.

Dera is familiar with the yawn. She continues, "Now I'm going to lock the door while I go look for something for us to eat. David, take care of your little sister, and please don't leave the room'.

She gives them a kiss on the forehead and mutters 'I'll be right back'

As she makes to leave, watching over her shoulders, David curiously asks 'Mum, where are you going to? Why can't we follow you?'

She bends over to David and responds- it's not safe out there, David. I can't afford to lose you too. Please stay home for mummy.

David doesn't understand. He's angry and doesn't understand why things can't be as they used to- Why he can't leave the room and can't accompany mum like he always did. Why Susie had to come and ruin everything.

Dera crouches to his height noticing his sullen pout and took both of his plump hands in hers.

"David I need you to be the man of the house right now can you do that for me?" She asks, hoping for an agreement.

It usually worked, "the man of the house" line never failed, and even though she knew she couldn't go with him if he refused she still hoped for a resounding YES! But that would be asking for too much at the moment so she waited for a nod that came along seconds after

Dera peeps out the window again and seeing that the coast is clear, steps out of the house for a few seconds. She steps out of the house and walks a few blocks down sticking closely to the houses.

A pair of hands grabs her right leg from a shrub of greens pulling her off balance. She drops down with a thud hitting the side of her head on the concrete pavement. Dera makes to sit up fighting to release herself from the tight grip of her assailant but all is in vain as she loses consciousness.

14 Days earlier....

Birds pecking at the windowpane as the sun slowly creeps in through the blinds.

Dera with her left leg almost out of bed and mouth slightly open is awakened by the wetness of her dog's nose and tongue.

"Woof"

Waffles! She exclaimed

"Woof woof" he barked as he wagged his tail vigorously.

How did you get in here? Dera asked as she picked up her phone to check the time

News app Notification: Parrot kills baby in the middle of the night

She ignores it thinking it's another click bait. Her eyes meet the time and upon realizing how late she is, hops out of bed and runs downstairs.

She notices the house is unusually quiet but there's no time for that as the only thing on her mind at that moment was acing her presentation to the new sponsors.

With the meeting in 13 minutes and an unfinished presentation, Dera rushes to the office on her bicycle, barely securing her helmet. It's a 10 minutes ride to the office and she arrives just in time. She hurriedly fixes her hair and puts on her 'lucky' jacket

"Do you have any gum, Christine?" She asked the receptionist

"Overslept again?" Christine replied opening the drawer

"Girl.... I don't know what happened. I just hope everybody's not seated"

"You'll be fine... You always are"

"I hope so!" Dera replied, running up the stairs. She barges into the boardroom, even hitting the chair of one of the sponsors.

"I'm sorry," Dera says

"... and she's here" Michael's voice thundered from the front of the room. "We were just talking about your awesome presentation, come and share with us."

She walks to the front of the boardroom and connects her laptop to the projector.

"Good Morning everyone, my name is Dera Onyekachi. I am sorry for my tardiness; I needed to put everything in place.

"Its fine, go ahead" replied Mr. Zinox, one of the sponsors and the new head of the board if the meeting went according to plan. "We would love to see the numbers"

Dera continues, "Okay then, I might as well skip the...

Poom!

A sound startled everyone in the room. They soon discover it's a bird that hit the glass.

".... ah something must be in the air even the birds are bumping into things", Zinox exclaims

The room bursts into laughter as Dera lets out a slight grin

"We are off to a good start," she thought to herself.

"Looking at our numbers over the past few years," she continued "you can see a consistent growth of over 27% on the average despite our poor marketing budget this due to..."

Poom! She's interrupted again as another bird had hit the glass.

Trying to hide her discomfort and slight worry, Dera makes a joke. As she's about to continue with the presentation, she looks out of the window and what she sees throws her off balance- a flock of birds flying aggressively towards to glass window.

She closes her laptop and runs downstairs

Present-day

Dera's eyes open slowly. She struggles to keep her eyes open but when she finally opens them, she realizes she's in a dirty abandoned room- a basement.

She attempts to get up but finds that her hands are tied. She attempts to release her hands from the rope by wiggling them from side to side but is unsuccessful. Another attempt to shout reveals her mouth has been gagged.

She frighteningly looks around for something to help her gain freedom, anything. At this point, she spots a sharp piece of metal. She pushes her body against the floor, towards the metal and it is then she realizes her legs to have been tied.

She screamed into her mouth but all that came out was a groan like a wild boar's.

"Why are you making noise?" A husky voice asks from the corner of the room. "Nobody can hear you here.

###
LOCKDOWN CALL

ONYEKACHI PETER

Today my wall gecko didn't come around and darkness visited us as always through power interruption. In this bliss I appear in the board meeting at the Department where I work. I came late as usual only to show my face; I'm used to coming late. To listen. As I stepped in I heard a female Prof say:

Tell the male lecturers to leave our female students alone.

And silence fell on me because no one tells the female students to leave the male lecturers alone. I have been harassed severally but cannot tell anyone. How would you open your mouth and say that a girl approached you or harassed you? Are you a man? In an age where the woman is a victim? That's a story for another day as I appeared again in my house. A female student that looks like Michelin started a chat with me. She greeted ten times but I ignored her. Only to respond the eleventh time:

**Me:** Evening ma'am

**She texted:** How's the holiday?

**Me:** Fine

**She texted:** You're ignoring me?

**Me:** Hope you're enjoying your holiday?

**She texted:** Been Cooking/ Reading/ And I'm learning an instrument.

How about you?

**Me:** Reading and writing

**She texted:** I miss school

How about you / Do you miss lecturing?

How about the book on thread, how's it going?

**Me:** I don't miss anything... I'm on break from everything. I'm learning something new,

**She texted:** That's good. Something like?

**Me:** It's none of your business!

**She texted:** I would like to know, are you still going to church?

**Me:** No

**She texted:** So you're scared of the virus?

**Me:** Social distancing

**She texted:** Zero case so far. Opportunity to...

**Me:** What?

**She texted:** Pray

**Me:** Okay

**She texted:** What is for dinner?

**Me:** nothing

**She texted:** Ur sleeping hungry? Abi , you have eaten?

**Me:** I'm filled

**She texted:** With?

**Me:** the Muse. Or... Do you want to feed me?

**She replied:** I don't mind? What would you like?

**Me:** Rice,

**She texted:** What type?

**Me** : Any kind of rice will be okay by me

**She texted:** I would have to come over

Coz I can't send through Xender

**Me:** it's already late

**She texted:** Tomorrow morning

No service na

Sleep through at?

**Me:** Yea

**She texted:** Home is quiet

How about yours?

**Me:** Lols ! As usual nothing has changed here... I'm used to the silence here.

**She texted:** No guest?

No relative

No ....

**Me:** I am very particular about my space, so there's nobody...just my books

**She texted:** Wouldn't you mind a little trouble?

**Me:** I'm listening

**She texted:** Games...

Will you play

**Me:** What kind of game?

**She texted:** Are you ready? U would like/ If not, I will change

**Me:** Okay

**She texted:** Here is the rule/ 2 lies one truth/ Tell a lie that can be subscribe to the truth/ And truth that's a lie

**Me:** Lols!

I'm ready for this Ms

**She texted:** Ok

So Mister,

Tell a lie

And I would subscribe it to know the truth in it

**Me:** I don't have strength for such, maybe if we see in school when we resume

**She text:** We will see tomorrow

School resumption is far

You're sleepy?

**Me:** Not really

How old are you?

**She texted:** Question about my age

Which interview am I on?

Well I'm 20

**Me:** You look younger than your age

**She texted:** U dey call me small pin charger?

I'm grown

**Me:** Hmmm

**She texted:** I'll be 21 soon

At the end of the year

though I do things of the adults!

**Me:** Who told you I called you that?

**She texted:** I heard right

**Me:** If you say so

**She texted:** So tell me

How's the cold. How's your head laid now?

**Me:** It's just the way it used to be na

**She texted:** Tell me/ How do u cope with the silence? How do u carry your mood and frown around

**Me:** I'm used to it

**She texted:** And you don't intend to break it/ Haba !!!!! Come on.....you some noise

**Me:** My spirit said you want something. Hope you don't mind if I ask?

**She texted:** I want...

Wait a minute which spirit?

**Me:** My Chi

**She texted:** Okays / What does it say

**Me:** It said I should ask you what you want

**She texted:** What I want...You won't give

**Me:** And what is it that you want?

**She texted:** What I want, You won't give

**Me:** I'm listening...what do you want?

**She texted:** as if you would give when I tell?

**Me:** Yea briefly

**She texted:** Sounds like a promise/ But I'm familiar with broken promise though. What do you think? You must have a clue

**Me:** You might get this... it wouldn't last/ Briefly, I have stopped assuming things

**She texted:** It's not lasting...Then better I don't spill. Think/ You're creative thinker?

**Me:** What do you want?

Either you say it or

forget about it

**She texted:** I rather forget it

than be a part of your creative works

or a....

**Me:** I am done with that aspect of writing

That aspect of creativity no longer interest me

I'm working on frank talks.

**She texted:** Not convincing enough

**Me:** I move very fast. Maybe what you seek isn't important to you.

Bill Gate did the same I've done - he gave an interviewer an open Cheque to write the amount she needed but she failed three time to take him serious

**She texted:** My point: I don't want to be one of your lab rats

I want it for real

Not for some Frank talks

**Me:** I will give it to you if you mention it.

But whatever it is, it will be very brief

**She texted:** If you answer my next question then I'll tell you what I want.

**Me:** Go ahead

**She texted:** What does your chi tells you

**Me:** That you want to sleep with me

**She texted:** Saiii...!

This is deep

You don't want to sleep with a virgin remember?

**Me:** Yes

**She texted:** But wait

I'm a novice. So, I'm sure you don't like novice(s)

That's crossed

Do u want a novice?

**Me:** Remember I told you I will grant what you want briefly

**She texted:** That's not it

Well I don't want that

**Me:** So what do you want?

**She texted:** l won't answer that, will you give it to me?

**Me:** Yes

She texted: This affirmative assert that's?

**Me:** Yes

**She texted:** Well what I want is

You beyond the limit lines drawn....

**Me:** It's fine... you'll have me today if you come around

**She texted:** I'm scared...

And if I don't today?

**Me:** You lose your chance

**She texted:** You promised me

**Me:** Okay I have extended the opportunity till tomorrow morning

**She texted:** Let's put it straight. You don't do novice, so what do you stand to gain agreeing mine? I don't want sex! And even if I want sex you don't!!

**Me:** You're still a child, why don't you ask for what will benefit you?

**She texted:** You are impossible! I want you beyond drawn lines

**Me:** You're using ambiguous terms... say it in plain language. This is the last time I will be asking what you want and I wouldn't ask again. At least I paid my debt

**She texted:** I want to get to know you beyond drawn lines. Can I ?

**Me:** You lost your chance! You weren't forthcoming on what you wanted

**She texted:** If you say so

but I spoke in clear terms;

You just refused to admit

**Me:** You're using poetry to make a request. Maybe what you seek wasn't after all important to you goodbye.

###
THE RADIO ANNOUNCEMENT

UKEME EDUNG

The 3 pm news on radio:

Nigeria records 897 Coronavirus cases as at...

UEFA Champions league final shifted to August...

Ramadan Kareem fast...

The newscaster barely mumbled when I heard ' _Knock! knock! Knock_ ,' on my door. It was my bosom friend Akan who came to call me for his spree of evening trek. It became an evening ritual daily observed by us, 'the corona home-mates', a jovial name we had given ourselves to commemorate our present reality of staying at home as a result of the outbreak of COVID19 pandemic in my country. Our leisure walk had never been a long one as we confined our movement within our neighbourhood. We normally walk pass the popular PowerCity church heading towards the Water Fountain and leisure park along Nwaniba road before returning home.

As Akan and I walked pass the church today being a Wednesday; I could feel the impact of this pandemic on our environment. There was no midweek service that gave birth to the Wednesday traffic congestion along this part of the Nwaniba Road. By now, church devotees would have been hugging to their hearts Bibles, rushing into the church with regal regalia as if to meet the Bridegroom Himself. On the other hand, the Ewet market had customers trooping in scanty numbers to buy from poor traders in need of merger profit to also keep their body and soul. They sold perishable goods especially vegetables and soup condiments.

I had gone to buy myself tomatoes for tomorrow's breakfast because the Police and other Law enforcement agencies that mount the roadblocks are hyperactive in enforcing the restriction of movements in the mornings and afternoons. Apart from the essential workers that are authorized freedom of movement, some citizens that do not fall into this essential category are still found cutting corners and maneuvering their ways to different destinations. Some boldly drive to the checkpoints with the assurance of giving a Five Hundred to One Thousand Naira bribe to some bad eggs in the law enforcement agencies in order to gain free passage. Some of these stonehearted bad eggs that taint the noble image of their respective agencies by shamelessly collecting these _'hand-sanitizers'_ as it popularly called, justify their actions with the claims that after the roadblock exercise, they will always combat the reality of hunger.

While trekking, my eyes scanned the popular Ewet hamlets that lay like sleeping masquerades, housing bodied men and women. Some children and adult stood aimlessly at the balcony of their storey building or in the front doors of their houses staring into the road. Their eyes seem to keep count of passersby and to keep tabs with the lockdown boredom. Akan and I were now about 50 meters away from my house when we sighted a group of street boys that sat on an old Volkswagen car by the street, throwing tantrums at a young girl, a passerby that wore a nose mask made from native fabric that matched her blouse and skirt. As I watched them laugh at the girl, I remembered that due to the high demand for nose mask, the price of a medicated nose mask had increased from Fifty Naira (N50) to Five Hundred Naira (N500); Five Hundred Naira, being the former price for a dozen.

Hello! hello! A passerby stopped me to ask for alms. I gave him Fifty Naira from my pocket. It was a change from the _Aboki_ tomato seller. I remember how our conversation ended with him saying: _Allah kawo mu lafia_ 65. I managed to smile as I replied: "Amen" to the short but powerful prayer and then collected my balance and walked away.

Before reaching my house, thoughts of last month's incident crept into me. It happened in the school I worked as a teacher, precisely in my classroom during an examination I was invigilating. Due to the sudden deadline issued by the Government for the closure of schools in my State, the school's Management compressed the Second Term School calendar into a month as examinations held in short notice. I stared at my students writing with fear and trembling over the enigmatic Coronavirus scare. This scare spun a web of uncertainty and cast shadows of trepidation in their minds. Many of them looked broken as I glanced at their faces.

My house remained the way I left it 30 minutes ago. Exam scripts cluttered my reading desk; and piles of unmarked scripts stared at me from the shelf. I giggled as I realized that the virus scare had also stalled my proactive nature towards work. I tuned the radio and a public service announcement for the collection of palliative: rice and food condiments at the Local Government council was ongoing. Immediately, I turned it off. This news must me be another April fool saga. Its gonna be another razzmatazz or political jamboree

I hissed in disdain as I lay on my bed pondering over the uncertainty of the future while staring at the ceiling fan that hadn't spun for about three days and three nights due to the lack of electric power supply in my neighborhood.

_________________________

65 "Allah kawo mu lafia" -God brings us peace (Hausa Language )

###

### TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN

OLUWATIMILEHIN ATERE

Dear Savage,

Here's my 2 cents. Yes, to you!

You've been on the loose for too long and I wonder how you get away with anything and almost everything with a mere slap on the wrist. Who really are you?!

You have such a sharp vision that spots the un-dotted I's, uncrossed T's and even the shaky Z's. What exactly are you up to?

While you lash your tongue at others, jumping on every timeline, cropping the minute details in an image, running an unsolicited grammar test, I do hope you've got eyes behind you because really YOU need to watch your back!

This space is for us all to share, so why take possession as though a Landlord who never laid a single block for foundation. Your space is yours. Mine is mine. Stay your lane.

To avoid your trap, I filter every content, lest you come for my head in its resting place. Please, not today.

In all that you do, remember that what goes around comes around.

Enjoy your moment while it lasts and also pin it in memory that Humans, not only Men, will embarrass you.

It is what it is....The Internet never forgets!

Yours Sincerely,

@Anonymous

###

### DEAR DIARY

EVELYN JOIE

This is the first and last time I'm writing in a diary. Only this time, I am making an exception. It has something to do with putting these words, this story, on paper. Having lived through it, was hard, but writing it down is even more so. It feels like I'm only now finally accepting that it all happened. Everything from the day my father sent this voice message and onwards:

" _Hey my dear,_

I arrived in Sydney last night. It's 10 pm right now. I had a great flight, though it feels a bit weird coming here after so long. I feel that my perspective on this place has fully revived, now that I'm a new man. Anyway, I'm in my hotel room now, and I just read your message on what had happened this morning... It's bewildering. This is so hard, all of a sudden. I haven't yet taken it in. Unbelievable. I wish I hadn't gone on this trip. I need to be with you right now, I need to be there for you; to have you in my arms and make the best of it. As I heard the perplexing news, I called my boss to arrange that I could immediately return to you guys. I would be able to be home the day after tomorrow. But... as you might have heard on the news... Australia is on lockdown... just like that. I- it's... it's too much. You guys, know that I love you. The three of you are everything to me, you keep my world turning. Unlike this pandemic... Too unfortunate, that's what this all is. I promise you; I'm going to try absolutely everything to arrange a flight back to you. No matter what it takes. And stay strong, okay? I hope you're fine and coping with it. I will speak to you again soon.

Love you,

Dylan. Dad. And husband."

I could hear his voice trembling; I could hear he was struggling with his emotions. We could all feel it. And we were all sobbing along... We missed him.

Back when father was a little boy he moved to the Netherlands, all the way from Australia, because he lived a criminal life there. He was born in a family of criminals and they gave him only one option; to be one of them. I don't know all the details, because he doesn't talk about it so much. All I know is that it was awful, because he was forced to become someone he did not want to be. He wanted to escape from this criminal life, start a new life on the other side of the world. That's where he met mom, here in the Netherlands. Like he always tells us: she was sitting there on that bench in the park, the park we live next to now. It was mid-summer. It was warm, a beautiful day. When he saw her sitting underneath that tree, surrounded by flowers, he knew. She is the one. I know, it sounds typical, that's what I thought as well at first. But really, if you'd see them together, you can't possibly imagine any other way they could've met. You will get me in a minute, I swear. What our father told us, too, is that she looked so beautiful. Her curly brown hair, green eyes, and oh! That yellow dress! She had smiled at him. And yep you can guess what comes next; he did a couple of epic ninja moves, showed his muscles, winked, those things. They married, and lived happily ever after. Just kidding, just kidding. He walked over to talk to her. Since then, they've always been together. They married 4 years later and had two children. Me, and my brother. My brother just got into college, and I'm still in high school. We have lots of laughs together, even though I sometimes classify as annoying little sister and he as the know-it-all big brother.

Ever since my father moved to the Netherlands, he wanted to do something good for our world, for our precious planet. His past relationships forced him into becoming a criminal, but he wanted nothing of that kind. So now, he works to save the world. He takes action against global warming and raises awareness everywhere. Meaning he travels, a lot. He'd sometimes be gone for two weeks, even longer in rare occasions. However, our mother works from home. She actually used to be a physics teacher at a high school, though she quit that job short after we were born. She has always had a love for architecture. Which is what she has been occupying herself with after her teaching career. She has an office at home. Clients would often visit. To look at designs and whatever else. Her office is the place she's most at, if not in the park next door. She loves nature and the sound of birds. She would go there for a break just to sit and listen. To the birds and the wind, to the nature. Her love for it isn't only visible as she goes out to listen so peacefully, she brought it into our house. Most furniture is entirely organic. I'm not sure how to explain why, but I feel different when I'm home. In comparison to when I'm anywhere else. Even though I'm inside, it feels like I'm not. But it does at the same time. Feels good, to be honest. It's pure. Her office especially. It's covered in plants and flowers. Not entirely of course, you wouldn't think someone here is out of their minds when you look around our house, but it's surely above average. Yes, above times two. And she does too, take care of them all. All the greens throughout our house.

So, life looks good around here. I have two amazing parents and a brother to die for. So far, I've been very lucky. But recently, things have been nothing but upside down. That's why I'm writing this right now. To you, to my family, and to myself. Because... My mother, she's diseased. We found out just about a month ago. She has... a severe form of cancer. I'm struggling to believe it; going about so silently, still, so cruel. I just don't want to accept it. Not this. I'm having difficulties feeling happy these days. Though, the last thing I want right now is for sorrow to take over before time runs out. The spreading must have been going on for at least two years. You wouldn't say. She seemed as healthy as ever. Out of nowhere, she started to get these symptoms. Her organs were being attacked. We were told by the doctors that it had spread so much already, there was no point in fighting it. It was too late. We found out the very last moment. She only had one month left...and on that note, this is that moment where every 'is' starts to be written as a 'was'.

Our uncle, Steven, came over every day to help us get ready for school, and to do other things my mother would usually do. And of course, just to be with us. It helps to have someone around to talk to, to have fun with and to mourn with. We were all in it together. And forever will we be. Though, one immense setback was that, our father couldn't be there. He went to Australia, just before we found out. A work thing; one of the longer trips. He went to assist to in combating the Australian wildfires. When he heard the news, he managed to cancel half his plans there. He would be able to come home in four days. But, as if things couldn't get any worse, ALL flights from and to Australia were cancelled. Australia is on lockdown. A virus had been spreading for a while, a pandemic. Things would stay under control, they said. But that weekend, hope faded quickly.

Three thousand people were tested positive in Sydney and the numbers of Positives kept increasing. They would only let very important business men get out of the country, in empty airplanes. And unfortunately, my dad did not quite fall under that category. He was stuck there. No way to come home before it would be too late. Because he would normally return after four weeks, he would have to wait those four weeks. Some planes still flew to pick up people only to get them back to their home-country, on the original date of the flight back that is. But, four weeks... that meant he couldn't be there when they, you know... put her to sleep. That'd be awful. Not being able to see her anymore... I felt so bad for him. All their plans for the future, suddenly, all gone. In such a situation, one doesn't know what to feel. Hope? No hope? You want there to be hope, but there is too little time to feel hope. Though, without hope, how would we make anything good of these days? We can't.

She was too weak... all we could do is to be together. And that's all we wanted, but it just didn't quite feel like enough, you know? We did laugh together, we played games, and we just talked. Family came over every day. Just one person couldn't be there. I hated it. Why us, why him? Why her? Why this? Why couldn't it just be normal? No pandemic, no damn cancer. I absolutely hated it. It didn't feel real and I didn't want it to be real. But it was. Why was it?

Then, after a week, my father had sent another voice message, one I want to share with you. This is a game changer. A positive one, for so much any of this could be considered positive. His voice sounded relieved, the kind where you'd have teary eyes of happiness. I couldn't see his face, of course, but I could vividly picture him being very happy about what had happened to him.

" _Hey loves, it's me again._

I've got good news, and god, I'm glad this happened. At least between all these unfortunate things that are happening, there is one thing to genuinely be excited about. So, you remember Richard, right? The leader of the criminal gang? I ran into him. I was a bit stunned at first, because I had no idea who the man was now or whether to be afraid of him or not. But it turns out he is nothing like he was in the past! Just like me, he is a different man now. We caught up and actually connected greatly. Astonishing as it is, he works for the Government, rather than against the Government, ha-ha! Fear not though, that's not why I'm telling you this. It's because he is going to the Netherlands! Tomorrow! And guess what, he's willing to take me with him! I am so relieved. I've been stressed out the past few days. All I could think about is to coming home to you. And now that wish has come to life! I've missed you hopelessly, and I'm looking forward to seeing you. It will be difficult. Together we'll get through this. We'll have to. All right, I've got to go now, I'll call later. Love you."

Wow. Mixed emotions are all over the place. I'm evenly relieved he will be home, tomorrow! But, I'm afraid; so afraid that this is actually happening. Him coming home makes it feel more real. Anyway, I'll tell you about how my father ran into his old 'colleague'. My father was at the Newton train station, in Sydney. He had just stepped onto the train when Richard did so too. For a moment they'd looked at each other, puzzled whether they indeed recognized the other. My father recognized him, but didn't say anything, not knowing if Richard were still the Richard he knew. Before he decided to dodge finding out by walking away and finding himself a place, Richard enthusiastically said:

"Oh! Dylan, now I recognize you! Wow, you've grown so mature! Long time no see, it's good to see you again, how are you?"

This surprised my father, as the man had changed, and had himself, also grown rather mature. Richard is about 15 years older than my father is, old and wise you might say now. The conversation had continued the full trip on the train; they got to know their new selves and became quite the friends. Such an extraordinary reunion. They found out quickly that they had a shared need to go to the Netherlands. And as Richard was now a businessman, he could take my father with him. They'd just met, but he would take him with him, for free! The man had become superior and warm-hearted. A total plot-twist. Now, already the next day, they arrived in The Netherlands.

Richard and Dylan parted ways once arrived. Richard had his own business to attend to, and my father of course, went home. He drove home by car. It was quiet on the highways; there were only a couple of other drivers. During the pandemic, everyone is highly advised to stay home. And so, they did. It felt weird to him, being back in this situation. He had only heard about everything that's been happening back home, but didn't get to see it. Hearing about it and being in it is a completely different concept. It would take a moment to take in that it is real indeed. It's not what he's been used to. For so many years things have been normal, all the standard habits, they were all different from now on. With mom ill, everything is different. Not to mention when it's... over. Those are thoughts he couldn't escape from while driving home. Two hours later, once home, he parked the car at his usual spot, in front of our garage. He sat in his car for a moment, just looking at the house. He would have to enter in a minute, and be confronted with the situation.

He opened the door of the car slowly, took a deep breath, and got out. Calmly he walked to our front door, passing the bush and the flowers in our front yard. The ones she took care of. He could smell them, their scent of love; their scent of nature. They are yellow, red, purple, and pink, and they are part of our living. It makes our home feel like home. Whenever anyone comes home, it's the first thing they'd see. It makes you feel welcome. And it helped my father to feel comfortable as he ambled over our gravel path. He took the keys to the door from the right pocket of his jacket, as usual. He opened the door and stepped inside. The familiar smell of our home and a distant sound of our voices in the living room made him to smile. He'd put his jacket aside, and toward to the living room. The sun had just gone under and the room was lit up by candles. A soothing ambience covered the room. He stopped at the sight of us. We looked at him. His smile had a sad tone to it. There was a short moment of silence until the three of us came into his loving arms. And just stood there, with him.

Love, me.

###
DON'T TALK TO FAIRIES

LOVENDER S. WHITE

Things have been getting stressful in the kingdom of Vernia, the King has been imposing increasingly strict travel restrictions on us. And it's been taking a big toll on my business, having to limit the hours I can sell my fabrics and such; all because of an "illness" that entered the kingdom. His Majesty says he's doing everything in his power to stop a plague, but I get increasingly wary that he's gone mad with power every day because I see no real affliction affecting our towns. Just the other day I watched a man get dragged out of his home, the knights claimed he became ill and was going to be sent to a medical facility. But the way the man looked as he begged to be left alone, no sores, color in his face, nothing that would suggest an illness.

With no business coming to my shop, I decided to visit my good friend Benjamin. He greeted me enthusiastically "William!" and then this brick house of a man embraced me with a warm hug. He led me into his home and have me a warm cup of tea, I began to hear some light buzzing around my ears. I paid no mind to it, thinking it was just some flies. I talked to Benjamin of my frustrations with the King's orders and he equally agreed with me. The King was being outrageous. As we vented, I could've sworn I heard the tiniest voice cheer on what we talked about.

As the day free to a close I left my good friend for my own home. I prepared for bed when I heard that tiny voice again.

"Hey, you there! Hey! Help me!"

I look all around me looking for a possible source to the voice but to no luck. Then all of a sudden, dust flew into my eyes. I rubbed it out of my eyes slightly frustrated. I wonder why I was hearing things and just as I opened my eyes back up, there she was, a beautiful blue fairy!

"Please help me!" she cried.

Bewildered I asked, "Help you with what?"

"My kind are being killed!"

"How?"

"Your King, he's trying to keep us out!"

I knew it! I knew his Majesty became power hungry! But I still had questions for the fairy, like, why are the fairies here in the kingdom all of a sudden and not out there in the wild? Why would their presence bother the King so? She eagerly answered. They survive easier living with humans. The King thinks they're dangerous for whatever reason. I soon agreed to help the tiny thing, and I knew just how I was going to do it too! Come the morning I will join the knights. Ever since the increasing restrictions on Vernia, there's been a demand for more knights.

When the morning came, I stretched my body, getting it lose for the recruitment. I couldn't help but notice tightness in my left shoulder. But before I had a chance to investigate this, the little fairy began rushing me to recruitment, eager for a chance to be the hero of her people. Recruitment didn't take long to determine I was of able body and mind. Within hours I was trained, given gear and became an official knight. The King came himself to welcome the new recruits.

"Welcome new members of my corps, your service is much needed and appreciated. As I'm sure many of you are aware, I've needed more knights to better watch after the people." Spoke the King.

I've wanted this for a while. I wanted to hear the King's big plan, his reasoning behind his recent ruling from his own mouth.

The King continued, "There's an illness that my doctors have recently found to be caused by a parasite, they appear to be fairies, the kingdom is in need of your help. Any reports you are giving of recently inflicted you must remove them from the public and to our medical facilities. We are here to save lives."

Wait, parasites? Save lives? Are the fairies harming us? "He's lying, we're not parasites!" the tiny fairy spoke into my ear. As the King continues to speak the fairy rebuttals him. I'm unsure of whom to listen to. I was leaning towards believing the fairy, perhaps the King doesn't understand what the fairies are doing. But he hands out raw cotton. His Majesty instructs us to put the cotton in our ears to muffle our hearing whenever taking the "ill" from their homes. At first my heart sinks as he explains the fairies will try to manipulate us. My new fairy friend however, quickly reassured me that she would do nothing to try and control me, that's when I remembered the times, I saw the knights take the supposedly ill fairies from their homes, how they would be begging to be left alone. The cotton kept them from hearing the pleas of the "fairies".

I became determined in my mission. My first plan of action was to release the people from these so-called medical facilities. Not long, there was reports of newly afflicted and I left with a group of knights to seize this person. That person happened to be Benjamin! My good friend, he's been trying to help out the fairies too! As we took him to the medical facility, I whispered to him that I planned to release everyone from the facility but if he could help once I released him, we can be quick about it. He agreed, and I was ready, the people will not be oppressed by the King's new laws!

We made it to the medical facility and Benjamin was locked in a room to himself. The knights went back to their posts to stay vigilant of any new people to be sent here. I secretly stayed behind. I spotted medical uniforms in a nearby closet and switched my clothing. Now that I looked like a physician, I needed to find the keys to unlock the rooms. I casually approached one of the doctors and admitted to having missed placed the patient room keys. The doctor scolded me for losing valuable items and proceeded to give me a couple of spare skeleton keys. I quickly thanked him and went off to find Benjamin.

Just a few corridors down and I was at Benjamin's room. I unlocked it then let myself in.

"Will? You clever bastard, you dressed like them?"

"All to get this." I tossed him the second skeleton key. "You ready to get everybody out of here?"

"You bet! But don't we, a lot more keys?"

"No that's a skeleton key. It should work on every door."

"Alright, let's get started."

And with that Benjamin leapt out of his room and began unlocking each room starting on his right. Before I began unlocking rooms myself the little fairy spoke up. The tiny thing was grateful for my willingness to help the fairies. I played down my heroism by stating I simply wanted to bring business back to my shop again.

I began unlocking doors opposite to Benjamin. As I went further down into the corridor I slowly but surely began to notice each patient looking off. I could hear a multitude of tiny voices emanating from these rooms located deeper in the facility. The patients' skin looked rough, almost bark like, it brought to attention how my shoulder felt tight early morning. I felt my back, and noticed the tightness spread further down, my skin felt like bark as I reached for my back. When they walked out of the rooms, they limped, nothing about these people seemed normal with each one I released. I began to second guess myself, that's when my fairy friend assured me it was a result from the quarantine, but when I reached the last patient my blood ran cold. The last patient looked like a human hive, fairies swarming all over the person, skin like petrified wood. The patient didn't say anything but just rushed for the door. I saw a grizzly smile on what barely resembled a human before I slammed the door in his face and relocked it.

"The King was right..." I mumbled from under my breath. "You are a danger to us."

"No, no. You have it wrong." The fairy tried to assure me.

"Then why did that guy look like that?"

"Because he's helping us."

"How is he helping?" I shouted.

"He's helping us make more fairies!" my tiny fairy friend spoke with glee.

"But why does he look like that?"

"Well, the human body is perfect for helping us."

I became immensely angry; I can't believe I listened to this thing! I seated the fairy down to the ground. And rushed to undo what I've done but as I returned to the main part of the facility. When I entered the main hall, I see nothing but chaos in front of me. Swarms of fairies attacking doctors and knights as they desperately try to shield their bodies in blind disarray.

I run towards the outside and saddled onto a Knight's horse and speed towards the King's castle. I've made a mistake. Now our best doctors are being attacked by fairies. As I ride, I think back to that last patient. Why didn't I believe in my King? They were parasites. For us to become that? Guilt overwhelmed me, I just prayed there was I way to undo my mistake.

I arrived at the castle gates and exclaimed to the guards I must have an audience with the King for I had urgent news of the Medical facility. The guard's eyes widened, I can't tell if they looked at me with such a shocked look because urgent news never comes from the medical facility or if something bad has happened to the facility before. Nonetheless, the guards rushed me to the King.

When the King stepped before I kneeled before him, I wanted desperately to beg forgiveness right then and there but I had to explain the issue at hand. My shame comes last. The King wasted no time, he made a declaration to move the still healthy towns people into disaster shelters he's long since created including his own castle. I go out the fields with the rest of the nights to do my part. We successfully get hundreds of people to safety but many were over taken by fairies. I saw of those originating from the medical facility their bodies are rapidly looking like the final patient. Their bodies looking like petrified wood to act as hives for the fairies.

Oh, god what have I done! The knights and I round up what healthy we can and return to the castle. I wonder to the King's corridor with this overwhelming urge to repent somehow. That's when I hear I'm panicking to one of the few remaining doctors.

"How much longer will it be ready?"

"It can technically be ready now, but the host won't survive."

"Damn it! Who would be willing to sacrifice themselves? If I do it my people will be left without a king!"

I enter the room. "Host for what?"

The King quickly turns his attention on me in anger for being spied but then change to a friendlier expression.

"You the young man who gave us the alert. What is it you need?"

"What's this about a host?" I asked.

The King turned to the doctor and she gave him a nod. He turned back to me. "We have a way to kill the fairies but we have a problem. In order to get the poison airborne, we need a living host."

"The effects on the host?" I hesitantly ask, hoping that what I heard moments ago isn't what I actually heard.

"Death." The King said stone face serious.

"Death?" Is all I could manage in response.

"Yes, it's such a high cost for one person. We can't randomly ask someone to sacrifice themselves." The doctor spoke up.

I swallowed my selfish desire of self-preservation. I clutched my fists and uttered the words, "I'll do it." Both the doctor and the King were in shock of what I said.

The kind doctor asked me, "Are you sure?" and I nodded.

The King placed his hands upon my shoulders and thanked me for my sacrifice telling me my noble deed will be talked about for generations. At least, nobody will know I screwed us all over.

The King and the doctor led me into a laboratory where they fed me this squishy black ball. The poison will start generating into deadly spores for the fairies once it hits my stomach. The King sent me off into the town streets with a final good bye and I walk to the center of the town. I feel myself get sick and hot when the black ball began to dissolve in my stomach. Spores soon came pouring out of my body. The fairies and their hosts came towards to attempt to infect me but they started to drop dead at my feet. Then a few yards away from me, I noticed the fairies began to retreat with the sudden realization that our kingdom was no longer safe for them. As I saw them run I collapsed to the ground, satisfied with the last deed I've done.

###

### JOY RIDE

REMY OLIVER

Cole was supposed to leave Landon's house soon but he couldn't resist the temptation of his best friend opening the garage door. They finally had the opportunity to take the golf cart—or "club cart," as Landon's dad called it—for an unsupervised spin.

It was nighttime, almost eight, but Cole had overheard Landon's dad answer the urgent phone call from work. "Yeah. No, that's fine. I'll do it myself. I'll be there in 20 minutes." Then a booming voice made its way across the massive house about the two boys ordering a pizza before the hurried and final slam of the front door.

Landon hopped on the golf cart, but Cole approached it cautiously. They were only thirteen years old, with zero years of driving experience. Not to mention they were expressly told not to go near the club cart, which, to two teenage boys, only made the idea that much more appealing.

Even still, Cole was hesitant.

"C'mon!" Landon said, the key already in the ignition."We have to hurry if we wanna hit the whole neighborhood before my dad gets back."

Cole eyed the street knowing he should be on his way home, but shrugged and hopped in next to Landon. With one jerky forward motion, the cart cruised forward down the driveway and into the street.

Landon's neighborhood was made up of one main street off the highway with a network of gated communities lining the main street. There were six communities in total: three on one side, two on the other, and the last one, where Landon lived, was at the very end. Each community had one winding street as well, creating six loops of houses.

As they rode down Landon's street, Cole observed one gorgeous house after another, never tiring of the drive to and from his friend's house. It was so unlike his own, always living in a string of apartments where luxury was a foreign word and no one had club carts.

The street was eerily empty and quiet. With the entire state of North Carolina on a pandemic lockdown, everyone was inside glued to their TVs, watching the news stations reporting the latest death tolls.

Landon rounded the corner and Cole caught one last sight of his bike still parked outside the garage. _I hope no one steals it,_ he thought, deciding against saying anything out loud. _I guess if they want anything it would be my face mask._

They emerged onto the main street and Cole spotted two residents walking on the sidewalk, their faces contorted into scowls at the driving children.

Landon ignored them and took the first right to begin their neighborhood tour. This next community was smaller, the houses spaced closer together. Landon entered with the "builder's" gate code that he'd once overheard an electrician say to his dad. They made quick work of the entire circle and were soon back on the main street heading to the next community.

A black SUV exiting the street ahead of them on the right slowed to a stop as the window rolled down. Landon turned into the same community and couldn't ignore the driver's stare.

A middle-aged man wearing glasses leaned his head out of the vehicle. "Are you two aware of the speed limit through here?"

The boys didn't answer, relieved that the man mentioned their speed, not their age.

"Fifteen miles per hour," the man continued. His voice held the authority of someone who appoints themselves head of the neighborhood watch. "You two need to slow it down. Trucks come cruising through here all the time and their eyes are glued to their cell phones. You'll be smeared all over this road if they hit you in that cart."

Landon mumbled a "yes, sir," and the man, seemingly done lecturing, drove off while tapping on his cell phone.

The boys looked at each other and burst into laughter, before Landon proceeded on their route.

They circled the loop, the houses again underwhelming (compared to the ones in Landon's premier community,) and came back to the main street.

Cole checked the cart's Velcroed clock: 7:45 PM.

"I gotta get back soon," he said, thinking of his mom's curfew and how mad she'd be that he was out so late. "I should have already been home. I'm not supposed to ride my bike in the dark."

Landon smirked as he turned right onto the main street instead of left to head back home. "We're just gonna hit the entrance and then head back."

Cole reached into his pocket to text his mom but realized he had left his phone at Landon's house. He resolved to just text her as soon as he got back to let her know he wasn't dead and he was really sorry and would be home promptly.

Landon reached the main entrance of the entire community where it connected to the county highway. Across from them was a dirt road and a cluster of bushes and trees partly obscuring a trailer, its rusted aesthetic at odds with the groomed image that Landon's neighborhood strived to maintain.

The cart was dwarfed by the highway, the open road highlighting one of many reasons why the boys were not meant to be operating a vehicle. There was only one car in the distance that Cole could see, its headlights shining through the deep indigo sky. Ordinarily, the highway would be filled with cars no matter the time of day; the lockdown had seemed to have changed everything.

Cole feared his friend would take their tour outside the neighborhood but Landon turned the cart back in the direction of home. A yell and a strange grunting sound pierced the silence, coming from behind them across the highway, from the trailer. Landon stopped the cart and the boys exchanged glances. Cole shook his head slowly.

_Maybe it's a raccoon or something_ , he thought.

The sounds came again, now accompanied by pleading and cries for help.

Cole looked at Landon's face, set with determination and excitement at the new adventure. Dread filled Cole's belly as Landon turned the cart back towards the highway and floored it.

"Landon!" Cole shouted. "What if it's some crazy sicko?"

"Stop being such a baby. I just want to get a little closer."

The cart bumped over the curb of the road and slid into the dirt path snaking out from the foliage. Just a few feet ahead of them was the mailbox on the left side of the partially obscured driveway. Cole had never been this close to the driveway. From where the golf cart was, he could now see the actual residence. It was a run-down white mobile trailer with no lights on outside. A free-standing wooden platform of stairs was pushed up against the front door.

Landon slowly drove the golf cart past the mailbox and the entire plot of land was made visible. Surrounding the trailer were thick trees and undergrowth. It appeared as if yard work had never been done. Next to an overgrown palmetto bush and a sea of weeds was a massive pile of trash, car parts and a stack of tires. On the right side of the trailer was an old Ford pickup truck. There were two windows covered with colored sheets; the left window was illuminated from behind.

Landon opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by another scream. It sounded like an older man.

Landon's eyes were wide as coasters. His brave demeanor was gone.

Cole took a deep breath. "Let's..."

Before he could finish his sentence, the sheet covering the right window jerked open and a silhouetted figure peered out into the night. Without a second thought, Landon threw the golf cart into reverse and slammed on the pedal.

The trailer's front door swung open, revealing an overweight man wearing an undershirt and pants. As the man made his way down the trailer steps, the golf cart crashed to a stop.

Cole turned back and saw the mailbox post bent backwards, the cart dented. He looked back towards the house where the man was now jogging towards them.

"Jesus Christ, you goddamn kids!" the man shouted at them as he reached the golf cart. He had a scruffy black beard and crazed eyes. His skin was pale and his broad shoulders were covered in thick black hair. "My mailbox! You smashed my goddamn mailbox! That's property damage!"

He reached across the front of the golf cart and twisted the key and pulled it out and shoved it into his pocket. Cole felt waves of burning fear as the man started back towards the trailer but turned around only to see pure trepidation in the boys' eyes. They were frozen in place.

"If y'all don't follow me I'll have you both arrested. What's your names? Get in here or I'm calling the sheriff's department!" He strode up the stairs to the front door as Cole and Landon reluctantly proceeded up the stairs and into the trailer.

The boys were barely through the door when the man slammed it shut behind them, and fastened the two deadbolts. The scene inside the trailer was unlike anything Cole had ever seen—or smelled—before. There was one bright fluorescent light shining from the kitchen. Cole looked at the kitchen and immediately spotted movement near a stack of dirty dishes on the counter and in the sink. A bug or a rat, he wasn't sure. On the couch was a very old man wearing only stained underwear, hunched over with a sponge tied over his mouth with a black cord. He was moaning loudly and did not even look up to notice them.

_The man's voice we heard before,_ Cole thought. _The one calling for help!_

The first man started in again about calling the sheriff's department but he was interrupted by the bedroom door flying open. A haggard, thin woman wearing a tattered Rolling Stones shirt and bright pink underwear looked at both of them as her eyes grew wide. "Johnny, why are you bringing them kids in here during the goddamn virus lockdown? They could be infected! They don't even have a mask on! You're gonna get us all killed!"

The man on the couch began shaking violently as he looked over at her. He was gripping a steel fork in one of his hands.

"They smashed the goddamn mail box outside, Ma," Johnny drawled back. "They were trying to make a run for it!"

The woman stormed back into the bedroom. With no light on, Cole could only see the foot of a bed. The sheets and blankets were pulled off of it and were laying on the floor. The place reeked of cigarettes and ripe garbage. Cole turned back to the door and Johnny (blocking the doorway) regarded him with wild eyes.

Within seconds, the woman appeared again with dark washcloths in one hand and a tube of something in the other. "Grab hold of them."

Before the boys could move or make to escape, Johnny gripped both of the boys' arms with no chance of them wrangling loose. Cole could feel his eyes tearing up as his face grew hot. He thought back to being at Landon's house and climbing onto the golf cart. It felt like hours ago and he wished he had just stayed home.

Landon's expression was totally blank from shock, likely wishing a similar thing.

The old woman squirted whatever was in the tube onto one of the washcloths, balled it up and looked at Cole. "Open your mouth!" She forced the dirty washcloth into his mouth but he gagged and spit it back out. Johnny turned and slapped Cole across the side of his head so hard that he was stunned and briefly forgot where he was. The bright pain quickly faded in and he felt himself finally start to cry.

Through his tears, Cole opened his mouth and the woman shoved the cloth inside and pushed it in with her fingers. Cole gagged and felt vomit rising in his throat."You little brats aren't going to infect us while we get this figured out!" She turned to Landon and did the same after squirting the ointment onto the other rag. The cloth tasted like sticky, sour grease and dirt. Cole fought back the urge to vomit.

Johnny pulled the boys to the only other door in the trailer and pushed it open with his foot.

"Grab dad, too," he said to the woman, "he's been out here long enough and won't eat."

Cole looked at the old man on the couch and saw that vomit had spilled out of all sides of the makeshift mask on his face and had covered his chest and arms. Next to him on the couch was an overturned bowl of macaroni and cheese.

"Bring dad in here and get the tape!" Johnny flicked the light on and illuminated the small room.

The only window was covered in aluminum foil and there was an even worse smell than in the living room. On the floor were stacks of dirty clothes and shoes. In one corner of the room was a folding chair with crushed fast food bags on top of it. The woman came in behind them and handed Johnny the tape as she ushered in the dad, crooning to him about being too sick to be around her and Johnny. She turned back and observed Johnny tear off two very long strips of duct tape. Landon, who had been silent the entire time, broke away from Johnny and bolted into the living room. He reached the front door and grabbed for the handle but it wouldn't turn. As he twisted the deadbolt, Johnny barreled at him full force from behind. The sound of Landon's head smacking the door caused Cole's stomach to churn as he voided his bladder, his sobbing silenced in shock.

Landon hit the ground and screamed hysterically. Johnny loomed over him and raised his fist. Cole looked back at the woman whose eyes were now lighting upon him. It was as if she was admiring him, oblivious to what was going on in the living room.

Johnny ripped Landon up off the floor by one arm and Landon shrieked. Cole heard the unnatural popping sound as Landon was jerked up and shoved back into the small room. Before he knew it, both their mouths were taped shut.

"Put 'em in that corner," the woman ordered Johnny.

He shoved them both over to the corner of the room opposite of where the old man sat. Cole's head bumped into Landon's as they were pushed down to the floor. Their terrified gazes met in the seconds before Johnny flipped off the light and the bedroom door closed, plunging them into rancid darkness.

Landon was trembling. He whimpered and breathed frantically through his nose as he grabbed Cole's hand and squeezed it into a tight clinch. The old man sagged in his corner.

Cole closed his eyes. His face was burning and sore from where Johnny had struck him, but worst of all was how dry his mouth was. There was no room to move his tongue around and swallowing was impossible. He opened his eyes and stood up but Landon pulled at his hand. Cole turned to him and nodded slowly and pulled his hand away. He walked to the door and listened to the commotion coming from the living room.

"I gotta move that damn golf cart outta the driveway and then I'm calling up Mike. I gotta feeling he would love to see what we got going on in here. You know what he likes." Johnny chuckled and the front door opened and slammed shut. The woman must've stayed behind; her senseless mumbling about the virus floated through the bedroom door.

Cole played potential scenarios in his mind as he tried to think of what to do next. _There has to be a phone to call 911_ , he thought.

He could rush out and overpower the woman and lock Johnny outside. He'd have to be quick, and he'd only have one shot to do it. He didn't want to get smacked again. Or worse.

As he began to turn the door knob, car doors slammed outside.

"Clay County Sheriff's Department. Where are the people who were on this golf cart?" a voice demanded. "Keep your hands where I can see them. Don't do anything stupid."

Landon stood up slowly. They both struggled to rip off the duct tape, wincing from the sting. They heard the woman start yelling as the front door of the trailer opened. "Don't you touch him, goddamn it!"

"Put your hands up! Now! Where are the owners of that cart?"

The old woman's yells of protest were cut off by a smothering thud. Cole opened the door and relief washed over him as he witnessed two deputies pinning her into submission.

One of the deputies who had briefly raised his handgun at Cole asked if anyone else was in the house. Cole's hand slid down the door and he fell to his knees. Landon stumbled out next to him, his bloodshot eyes straining. The blinking red and blue lights outside the trailer were suddenly the most beautiful thing the boys had ever seen. The old man was the last to come out of the room, upon hearing the officers. He stood behind Landon with the fork still tightly clenched in his hand.

###

### I WANT TO SEE YOU

LOVENDER S. WHITE

My name is Emma and I've been stuck in my house for a good month already. I had to stay in my house because of quarantine. The government sent out a mandate for everyone to stay home and away from each other all because of this disease that very quickly turned into an epidemic. The disease is very deadly and even more contagious. It's called CDC-23 or as everybody but the doctors call it, the 21st Century Plague.

It feels weird having to social distance so much. Grocery stores are sparse with customers; streets and parks are almost empty. Everyone doesn't leave their home without some sort of face mask. But most importantly, I'm forced to stay apart from Noah. Noah is my handsome fiancé, he has dark hair, and olive skin, and he's the sweetest man a girl could dream of having. He's currently away in another State; he went to New York for business related reasons but now he is forced to stay put until the quarantine ends. I miss him, but at least we still talk on the phone every day.

"Hey, sweetie. How are you holding up in Massachusetts?" his kind, gentle voice carries well over the phone.

"I'm just trying to find something to do while I wait to see you again."

"I'm sure it won't be much longer. The doctors will have a vaccine soon."

"I feel bad though, you're stuck in that stuffy hotel room, you must have much less you can do."

"Don't worry about me, babe. I'm doing just fine, especially now that I'm talking to you."

He is always so sweet. We would talk on the phone for hours. He never hesitates to pick up the phone when I call. And I feel less lonely whenever I hear his voice. We play games over the phone like 21 questions.

"What did you regret doing in high school?" I would ask.

"Um, probably joining the football team. The coach was an absolute dick, he made me lose my passion for the sport."

"I hate hearing that."

"You asked the question." He would chuckle.

We would also play truth or dare on the phone. I'd pick dare and he "dare" me to send a picture of myself smiling. He always knew how to make it seem as though he was right here beside me. I felt warm and eager to talk to him each day. It was like we were two teens in high school all over again. I fell in love with the man every time we talked on the phone.

It was only nice for a while though. The quarantine went on for another month. According to the news the virus has been evolving rapidly keeping the vaccine or the cure from being fully effective. People are starting to get outraged. Some have taken to protesting on the streets demanding the quarantine be let up. They're saying the quarantine is a violation of their rights; they need to go back to work, and stuff of that nature. Many people have been critical of those protesters but I understand where they're coming from. Still, I'll trust the doctors and politicians know what they're doing. I'm still listening to my fiancé urging me to stay home. I was born with a weaker immune system than most so this epidemics very dangerous to me.

By the next month, there was a spike in new cases, the protesters got sick with the virus. Many areas are putting strict curfews on the communities. And I've been spending more time on the phone with Noah.

"What's the matter, baby?" Noah gently asked me.

"It's just... how much longer with this quarantine last?"

I hear Noah let out a sigh through the phone. "I don't know."

"I'm tired of being cooped up in this house all day... I want to see you!"

"I want to see you to but please stay strong for me. I don't want you to get this disease. Until the doctors make a cure... I couldn't take it if you became another statistic."

"I won't. I promise."

The days are starting to blur together. The quarantine is lasting far too long. I stare at my window for long periods of time. All I see are birds and an occasional cat that has come to swat at the birds. I feel a strange emptiness inside me. I can barely motivate myself to clean the apartment or even shower. The only part of my day worth anything is the calls I get from my Noah. Yet, it pains me to hear his voice as I just want to see him. I'm forgetting what he felt like when he held me in his arms, what his morning kiss that he'd give me before he left for work felt like. He tries his best to strengthen my spirit as best he can through his calls, but not seeing him, not seeing anyone is starting to take its toll on me.

Eventually, I can take no more, I have to see him! I pack of some of my things so I can stay with him throughout the quarantine and I head out the door. I drive to a gas station to and fill up my gas tank with fresh fuel so I can make the three to four-hour journey to New York. I went inside the gas station to pay but before I got to the counter, I heard a loud sneeze. I looked and there was this older man who clearly had CDC-23. He had lumps all over his face, sweaty all over and a smell that reminds you of a decaying body. I paid for my gas and ran out the store as quickly as I could. I can't get sick, not before I see Noah again.

I get in my car and start driving. An hour goes by and I forgot all about the sick, old man. All I can think of is my fiancé, Noah. I'm getting so excited and happy to see him again after months of zero physical contact. But he doesn't know I'm coming all the way to New York just to see him, touch him, and hug him! If he knew I was coming he'd be begging me to stay home. But I'm coming. I know he wants to see me too!

Suddenly I began coughing out of the blue. Did the old man get me sick? No way. I think to myself I'm over reacting. Another hour past on the drive and I need to refuel. When I pulled into the gas station, I had a fit of coughing and I'm beginning to feel kind of hot a sweaty. No, no. I can't get sick not yet. Noah, began calling me as I was coughing. Shit! It's that time already?

I answer is call trying my best to mask the fact I was coughing so he doesn't worry for me.

"How are you holding up over there, sweetie?" He asks like always.

"Just in our apartment missing you."

"Well, I got good news we won't have to be apart for much longer."

"Really?" I ask dumbfounded.

"Yea. Just found out from the news that the doctors are just days always from completing a vaccine and cure!"

"Oh, really? That's wonderful!" I shout all too happy to notice the pain in my throat.

I sat in my car, parked, for the next couple of hours just chatting to him like usual. The aches in my body are easy enough to ignore at first but when I start feeling dizzy, I decidedly cut our call short. I make up an excuse that I needed to sleep and by the end of our call I was back on the road. I wanted to get to his hotel room and finally rest my head from the dizziness and aches I was feeling.

Another hour on the road and I finally made it to New York. I drive straight for his hotel and ask the hostess for his room number. I gleefully head to his room and knock at his door, but in the moment, I felt incredibly weak and I just collapsed in front of Noah as he opened the door. I feel him cradle me in his arms and I hear him shout for help.

"Someone call 911! My fiancée just passed out! Help!"

When I regained consciousness, I'm in a hospital bed with tubes sprouting from my arms and a mask over my mouth. I hear a familiar voice calling to me, it's Noah's voice.

"Let me see her! I don't care if I get sick too! The cure will be out in a few days so just let me see Emma!"

I tilt my head to look at an open hospital room door blocked by a doctor explaining something to Noah. I weakly reach out my hand towards Noah. He's right there, just out of my reach. My eyes start to well up with tears. I just wanted to see him. Why couldn't I just see him again?

Noah, noticed me reaching for him and he cried out to me, "Don't worry, I'm here Emma! You'll be fine! I'll make sure of it!"

With those words I slipped back into unconsciousness. I began to regret having left the safety of our apartment. I should've been more patient, just a few more days and a vaccine and cure would be released. I can only pray that I'm allowed to wake up with Noah holding my hand and we can just go home and forget the epidemic ever happened.

###

### 10:30 PM

EDIDIONG ESSHIET

**Intel:** _Hello, the target is Chief Daniel Adebayo. Assemble your boys and visit him this night._

**Jones:** _Why should I be interested in your target?_

**Intel:** _Proximity. Target relocated with his family to an obscure residence in the outskirt of his country home; and if I am correct, that's where you are at the moment with your gang._

**Jones:** _That doesn't make me interested_.

**Intel:** _Didn't you hear what I said? The target is my boss, Chief Daniel Adebayo._

**Jones:** _So?_

**Intel:** _A week before the lockdown there was a huge withdrawal of money, and a lot of it is stashed in this new residence where he relocated to two days ago._

**Jones:** _I'm not interested._

**Intel:** _Listen, there is so much money stashed in a safe and also kept somewhere within that house. If you are not interested, I am. I want to get that money, so you must carry out this operation. This is our opportunity to take from this man; we can't rob his Ikoyi residence; but here, security has somehow been downplayed. Very few trusted persons know this details I am giving you. All his friends and associates think he's still in Ikoyi. Jones, this is our chance._

**Jones:** _It's too sudden. I don't like operations like this, no time to plan. What if we meet surprises?_

**Intel:** _No surprises Jones. None. In that residence, there are no dogs, just a wire barrier on the fence which is connected to an electric source and a posse of five Police Officers. Though armed, I guess you can figure a way to take them out._

**Jones:** _I'm still not convinced._

**Intel:** _Listen, I don't care if you are convinced or not. I want you to do this because this is the best chance we have to be rich. He will be giving palliatives of food and cash to the poorest of the poor in his country home three days from now. A truck load of rice will arrive his residence tomorrow. And I guess the plenty cash stashed in that house, part of it is for disbursement to the poor._

**Jones:** _Sounds like you want us to visit a goldmine._

**Intel:** _That's what I have been trying to let you know. Jones, you can do this. If this wasn't feasible, I wouldn't have called. This lockdown has made things difficult for everyone; however, there are many that are thriving from it. I want us to be part of those that will come out of this COVID19 lockdown pandemic richer. It's often said that "there is a tide in the affairs of men which when taken, leads to fortune."_

**Jones:** _Meaning?_

**Intel:** _This opportunity is once in a life time. Either you take action now or never. I have texted the address to your private line, ensure you make this operation a quiet one. I will meet you at your rendezvous tomorrow evening._

**Jones:** _But there is a lockdown._

**Intel:** _Don't worry, I have a pass. I am one of the coordinators facilitating the transportation of the foodstuffs to the warehouse, so I can move around the city. See you on pay day!_

8:05 Pm

Chief Adebayo's newly renovated residence in the outskirt of Igando, could be accessed through a cul-de-sac. Jones, who had been warned to make the operation as quiet as possible planned to invade the residence from the back. Being at the out sketch of the village, behind this residence was a large cocoa plantation. The plan was to scale the fence through the back, enter the duplex through the back door, round up all the people in the house and keep them quiet at gun point, play the stereo in the setting room loud enough so as not to make the guards outside the premises aware of the goings inside the main building. Take Chief Adebayo by gun point to the said safe where he will open; refusal will be to threaten to kill any of his family members.

After loading his pistols, Jones stared at the sky for few seconds, sighed and then gestured his hands towards the residence. This ended the short ritual of silence as they hopped their way to fence at the back of the residence. The barbered wire on the fence was cut and a ladder was used to scale the fence. Meanwhile, Chief Adebayo had gone to Ikeja for a meeting with the Commissioner of Humanitarian Affairs having received a phone call two hours ago.

The time was 8:31 pm. Margaret, Chief Adebayo's wife, her three children together with Abigail the maid were in the residence; while a posse of five Police Officers guarded the residence. The Police officers were in their Hilux outside the premises engulfed in a discussion on the increasing cases of the COVID19 pandemic, oblivious of the encroachment. As the fifth man jumped in, Jones climbed the ladder to the top, crossed his legs over the brick fence and sat on it. He held the rung of the ladder and lifted and lowered it into the premises. The men received the ladder and positioned it on the fence enabling Jones to descend effortlessly from the fence.

Abigail was busy washing the dishes of the evening meal in the kitchen while Margaret as well as her children was in the sitting room watching TV. Abigail could no longer hold the pressure on her bladder. She dropped the ceramic bowel into the soapy water in the silver sink unit, and hurried out of the kitchen to the closest convenience which was in the lobby. She barely sat to wee when the bandits sneaked into the building through the door that connected the kitchen to alfresco. While Jones, Agama and Dandy ran up the stairs without making a noise; the other three gang-members took charge of the ground floor as planned, moving from room to room stealthily. Mrs. Margaret and her children were accosted at gun point, warned not to make a noise and then escorted into one of the rooms where they were ordered to lay with their faces to the floor under the watchful eyes of Richey, the youngest gang member. It was the unusual movement of people in the lobby that prompted Abigail to peep and discover the goings in the house. Though the robbery was in progress yet there was no sign which would have alerted the security officials let alone the neighbors. It was this tranquility and calmness in the entire building that gave Abigail the guts to sneak out from the toilet and then out of the main building through the kitchen door.

High up in one of the rooms Agama and Bullet bumped into few bundles of American Dollars in one of the drawers. As they stocked these bundles into their backpacks Jones walked in with his mask in his hand, wearing a despondent countenance. He sat on the bed, and glared round. He was not impressed by the outcome of the operation so far having searched all the nooks and crannies of the top floor without seeing anything desirable. Before now, this thirty eight year old looked forward to meeting the target of whom he would drag to the safe for him to open and also tell where the other money was stashed. Meanwhile, Abigail had informed the guards of the goings in the main house. Being shocked, they picked their rifles and moved into the premises.

As Abigail took cover inside the security post some of the guards ambushed behind the row of hibiscus flower close to the gate while the other two crept to the backyard where they saw the strange ladder leaning on the fence which they changed its position. As the officers crawled into the kitchen, a fusillade of shots was discharged into the air by the guards at the gate. This came as a shock to the gang as they stared at their partners. Richey who was alone in one of the rooms with the hostages became confused by the shots he heard. Being his first operation, fears of being arrested flooded his mind and he began fidgeting. Unable to control himself he ran out of the room heading toward the kitchen. Bumping into the officers, Richey opened fire in a sporadic manner. But since he did not take cover at once like the officers, he was caught by their bullet when they responded.

O.T-man and Flexi could no longer continue in the hold-up, as they moved out of the room into the lobby of the ground floor. While he headed towards the kitchen without shuffling, Flexi, the tallest of the gang members, holding firm to the revolver with his left moved in the opposite direction to the sitting room. Groping into the dark kitchen O.T-man stepped on the fore arm of a body on the floor. Huffs and moans were heard as he stooped to identify the person. Barely had he recognized Richey when a voice ordered him to drop his weapon and put his hands on his head; but the speaker had scarcely finished when the bandit discharged fusillade of shots in a continuous manner. Three blasts from a 12 Bore Pump Action Gun threw OT- man to the ground; he was hit on the left region of his lower abdomen. The light was switched on, the bandit was disposed of his rifle, and then the guards sneaked into the lobby. As Sergeant Matthew darted into the door-less room which had its entrance behind the stair-case, Sergeant Theophilous, showing much grit, crouched with his AK47 all the way from the kitchen, through the lobby to the sitting room. The shootings inside the building had made Jones, Dandy and Agama more perplexed. They were frightened and a bit confused because none of them knew who was in control down-stairs; they became motionless and quiet for a while. Noticing that their inactiveness was tantamount to a forlorn act they decided to storm out of the building at intervals.

Agama chose to be the first. He ran out of the room to the stairs; skipped, landed, darted into the kitchen and buzzed out of the building. Bullet was next; as he darted out like a mad dog towards the stairs; Sergeant Matthew sped out of the door-less room down stairs behind the stairs case, like a flash of lightening in a dark rainy night and ordered the bandit to halt. The startled bandit fired but Sergeant Matthew had already dropped to the floor, rolled and then responded with his automatic. Dandy, who was on the fifth step when the automatic spewed its bullets, lost control and tumbled to the ground in a pool of blood. He was bleeding from his right shoulder, stomach and thigh. Nevertheless, his index finger pressed hard on the trigger as bullets spewed out in random directions according to the movement of his hand; but Sergeant Matthew had crouched and taken cover behind a wall.

When Dandy's bullets were exhausted he began crying as he struggled to move his body which was now becoming too heavy for him. The Sergeant came out, disposed Dandy of his weapon, cuffed his right hand to the iron rails of the stairs and retired to the hide out, remaining there for some minutes. Noticing that there was no sign of someone descending the stairs again, Sergeant Matthew sneaked out of the door-less room and ascended to the first floor. Having peeped into three rooms without seeing any one, he sneaked into the Master's bedroom. On entering the room, there was a gun shoot down stairs. Sergeant Matthew froze. It would be found out later that Dandy committed suicide with another pistol in his baggy knickers.

In the master's room the floor was cluttered up with beddings, clothes, cushion, and opened boxes. The ward-robe and cupboards were open while the drawers were all pulled out; papers, files and books spilled everywhere. Staring at the room for some seconds with his eyes moving side to side, up and down, corner to corner of the entire room like that of a chameleon, Sergeant Matthew, the head of the guards felt loathsome and walked out.

The light bulbs in the sitting-room were off but the light rays from the 12 inch Plasma television on the wall showing a movie illuminated the room. Sergeant Theophilous crawled into this room and hid behind a single sofa close to one of the windows covered with a yellow colour curtain. The room's tranquility motivated him to crawl out of his hide-out. He groped to the wall close to the main door and flipped on the light switch.

If Sergeant Theophilous had waited a little longer, he would have had the advantage of apprehending Flexi who hid at a corner in the dining room beside the refrigerator; and was about getting up and running out of the room. Being oblivious of the presence of the cop, Flexi had given himself three more seconds.

"If anyone does not come into this room I will just run out of this doom . . ." he had said to himself panicking. No sooner had Flexi counted three and almost lifting himself from the ground than the sitting room light was put on. Flexi held himself and became still on the floor thinking he was noticed. He tightened his grip on the Centre Fire Hand gun for what he thought would be a final show down. Seconds ticked away and it seemed this stranger was also oblivious of his presence. Flexi peeped and noticed that this stranger, a cop, was not looking at his direction; Flexi aimed and fired. Sergeant Theophilus dropped to the floor being hit in the head. The double shot was strident and its sound was even more eerie in the neighborhood.

Wasting no time, Flexi darted out of the dining room; opened the main door and leapt into the porch. No sooner had he stepped his running feet into the lawn, than the Police guards ordered him to halt, but his refusal provoked them to fire. Since it was not on target Flexi was able to dive, roll and hide behind a water tank in the garden.

Unlike other visitors of the garden, Flexi was not captivated by the alluring scent, breath taking patterns of shrubs, trees and the gushing noise from the water fountain. His ultimate desire was to leave this premises alive. This ambition seemed unachievable due to the obstacles before him; the rear gate of this fenced garden was locked and the guards at the main gate were advancing. A serious gun battle ensued as the wind-screen of Margaret's Mercedes Benz E class parked in front of the garden shattered as Flexi opened fire at the guards who now took cover behind the vehicle. The neighbours were alert. Abigail, who had hid in the toilet of the security post with Olu, the gate man, wished she could shrink to a pencil size elf so as to hide unnoticed behind the white toilet seat. Sergeant Matthew advice Margaret and her children who were terrified to be calm and not leave the room. As he walked out of the room the children rushed towards their mother and embraced her; she spread her arms around them in response like a hen protecting its chicks from the hawks, while muttering prayers and fidgeting along with the children.

"This is a mess. I don't have any option than to apprehend these guys. O God help me . . ." Sergeant Matthew soliloquized as he moved into the sitting-room, his eyes hovering to the left and right for anything suspicious. He had pondered on the reply he would give to the inevitable query from the Divisional Police Officer while he entered the sitting room.

Jones scrambled in view of crawling out, but it seemed impossible at onset due to an encumbrance from a big carton stocked in the position where he lay, under the bed in the Master's bedroom. This sealed carton emerged after a severe push. As he rose, his eyes hovered around in panic. A final gaze on this brown carton prompted the decision to slice it open with his knife. His pupils dilated in surprise at what he saw. Standing beside what he had been searching for; a cartoon filled with bundles of mint One Thousand Naira was startling; but knowing that this was going to be his was most euphoric.

Jones stashed the money into his backpack but it was filled and there was still more to steal. Jones removed all the cloths in one of the travelling bags he found in the wardrobe and emptied the carton's content into it. Although he couldn't access the safe he felt this was a worthy consolation for all his troubles. He thought about his wife and smiled. The thought of giving her a new car as a surprise birthday gift, curtsey of this booty made him happy. Boby, his four year old son will be enrolled in the best school in town he thought and also from this booty he hoped to commence the building of his family house in his country home.

The shooting outside was intense; Jones faltered through the stairs as he saw the lifeless body of Dandy. Walking along the corridor, with a Matson Automatic pistol in the right and the travelling bag on the left hand, with the backpack hanging behind, Jones' eyes- red-rimmed and bloodshot were alert in the solid mass of his face. Thoughts of an Officer popping out from one of the rooms reeled. His heart throbbed. Having participated in more than fifty operations, he had never been this close to death nor close to being caught. In his mind the distance between the stairs and the door leading to the kitchen seemed like a journey on foot from one end of the Third Mainland Bridge to the other.

Jones sneaked into the kitchen where the aroma of the chicken stew earlier prepared by Margaret boomed. A thought crossed his mind to seek out the pot from which the aroma came from, and have a good share of the meat before leaving, but this thought was shoved aside as he crossed over Richey's corpse and O-T man, who was still breathing, though un-conscious but would die few hours later in the hospital as the doctors would be battling to save his life. For Flexi, his bullets will be exhausted and the guards will fatally gun him down when he is in the process of scaling the garden fence.

Running to the back-yard towards the fence, Jones was shocked to see the charred corpse of Agama on the floor. Agama had climbed the ladder in view of crossing over; but being oblivious of the change in the ladder's position had placed his hands on the wire which electrocuted him. Since there was no immediate assistance, he was trapped by the electric current. It was the thirty seconds seizure of electric power in the area, while Jones was still under the bed, that led to his release, thus, he crashed to the floor. Jones pulled out the ladder and placed it in the right location. He threw the travelling bag over the fence. No sooner had he jumped down- leaving the ladder inside the premises than strident cry of sirens emerged heading towards the main entrance of the residence. Jones smiled as he crawled to the bag of money and picked it. He was happy that he had escaped by a hair's breadth. As he rose to leave about twenty community men armed with machetes, cutlasses and other crude weapons surrounded him.

10:30 Pm

Thirty minutes later, Jones feels severe aches all over his body which is mangled in a pool of blood as he bleeds from thousand machetes cuts. His legs are bound with a long chain and he is dragged on the ground from the plantation to the highway by an angry mob that keeps beating him with crude tools. A worn out motor-tyre is strapped on him; minutes later petrol is poured on him from a ten liter jerry-can brought by a young man.

"Please, please, don't kill me!"

One of the men lit a match stick and threw it on Jones.

###

"There is no real ending. It's just the place where you stop the story."

\- Frank Herbert

ABOUT THE AUTHORS

"Individually we are one drop. Together we are an ocean"

\- Ryunosuke Satoro(1892- 1927)

A fourth year medical student and creative writer who is very passionate about African literature and Nigerian jollof rice, as well as mental health issues that affect the youth. Her works have been published on the Kalahari review and on different blogs. Below is a list of some of her works:

_T.I.R.E.D_ \- available on _Okadabooks.com_

UKODO

OGUALIGHO CHRONICLES: Desperate times, desperate rates

You can contact Gimbiya on: juxtathinka@gmail.com

A senior High school teacher in a private secondary school in Iligan city, Mindanao, Philippines. He has a degree in History and he is a bibliophile. His poetry focuses on social issues, nature, the environment, love and friendship. He is a coauthor of _Tales and Twists._ He goes by the pen names: "DiiJam McChiz", "Abdul" and "Djmc".

Also, Abdul is a partner of the TalesFromTheOther Land Group.

A coauthor of _Tales and Twists_ ; and a partner of the TalesFromTheOther Land Group, Enam is an entrepreneur based in Uyo Nigeria. She is a designer and manufacturer of female & male foot wears, handbags of assorted styles and clutch bags. She is an avid reader and a prolific poet that appreciates the beauty of diversity – culturally & individually. Loaded with enormous positive energy, Enam lives a conscious life of channeling her energy towards making positive impacts in people's lives. Follow her on **FaceBook:** _Enam Udousoro_ to access her products and services.

A creative writer and poet based in The Bahamas. He's currently working on his first book of poems titled: ' _words are things_ ', which will be published in the fall of 2020. Clarence credits poets like Maya Angelou, Nikki Giovanni and Rupi Kaur for inspiring him to tell stories about his own life experiences and to use poetry as a medium to advocate for change. You can see what he's up to and connect with him on all major social media platforms.

Facebook: clarencecarvel

Instagram /ccarvelwrites

Twitter /ccarvelwrites

A Dutch girl with a dream to push the boundaries of both art and writing, and to spread positivity.

To get in touch: @EvelynJoie on Twitter.

A freelance researcher, nature photographer and illustrator. His research interest lies in marine mammals, intertidal and reef fish ecology. As a photographer his images have been published in multiple online sites as well as print media. Also, Gaurav works as an illustrator for many Governmental and Non-Governmental Organizations to help them design awareness material.

**Social media handles** (Instagram): @_gaurav_patil_

@seasawarts

Born in Caracas, Venezuela, she is a prolific writer who started writing at the age of 9 years and has been featured on _The Organic Poet's Blog_. Apart from literature, she has a keen interest in music and languages. She's currently learning Japanese, Hungarian & French. Some of her works are: The Blood Book ; Naked ; Fire Love ; Ordinarily Extraordinary ; Inspire ; Healer .

Her Blog: Kind Connections

Podcast: KindConnectionPodcast

Twitter: @Bellemoon99

A Nigerian from Enugu State. A graduate of Human Physiology (2nd class upper division) from Bayero University Kano. He had his first poem " _EDDIES OF LIFE"_ published in NSPP in 2018. Obinna is a prolific writer and poet. You can follow his literary activities on Facebook: _obinna uchenna_ or contact him via: Email: lawrenceozeh@gmail.com

She writes on both Booksie.com and Writing.com under the same pen name. Some of her stories and poems have been included in _Skitch Bot_ and Volumes 3 - 7 of _The Ronin Express_ ; five further pieces have been accepted for the forthcoming Volume 8. For the first time last year she took part in, and completed, _NaNoWriMo_ with a book called _'Through Mist And Veil'_ but her greatest accomplishment was a retelling of the original _'Alice In Wonderland'_ in poems. A link for this was posted on the website of the _Lewis Carroll Society of North America_. Although Hullabaloo22 is a very private individual that lives in the South-west of Ireland, yet, she can be contacted through _Booksie.com_

Born 1985 in Free State, South Africa, Rampai started writing at the age of 12 and he has grown to become a poet, writer, and play writer who has won several writing awards. He is a father, businessman and farmer. The inspiration for his writings comes from observing daily situations of life and Politics – being a member of the ANC. He has published 4 books of poetry collection.

Mabinabine (South Sotho Poems)

Poetic Justice

Poetry O'clock

The Words

"When I die, I want to be remembered in literature as the PenLord"

A small town author from Illinois in the United States, who is currently working on publishing a book and has published several poems. Keisha can be found on Twitter @MrsKeishaAcuff

A graduate of English and Literary Studies, University of Calabar, Nigeria. Specializes in African Digital Literature, Popular Culture and Literature, Memory and Trauma Studies, a creative writer with over a decade experience in publishing and teaching of creative writing. Recipient of Volkswagen's Foundation Scholarship on Digital Humanities 2018.

A photography enthusiast and a writer, born on 6th March, 1954 in Bremerton. Vaun is a loving husband to an amazing wife, a father of five children with a half dozen grandchildren. He is well travelled and has lived in several cities in the USA: Bremerton, Spokane, Dallas, Louisiana & Washington. Vaun has a knack for research. He can be reached on: **Biopage.com @vaunray**

An American and a graduate of Biochemistry from Purdue University, who also has a minor in French language. Sylvia has a passion for writing as in her words "writing is a medium for self expression" . She is an avid reader and a prolific writer. You can connect with her on: **Biopage.com/Sylvia**

An amazing artist with several laurels at school and State level competitions. Endiong, is studying Fine and Industrial Arts, in University of Uyo, Akwa Ibom State, Nigeria.

Oluwatimilehin is "timiibigi" as she is fondly called, is a dynamic Compere, an avid reader and a brilliant conversationalist. Presently she is a final year Law undergraduate at Obafemi Awolowo University, Ile-Ife. Being a Creative, writing is spontaneous to her and she is an ardent lover of fiction and poetry. Anything related to Arts catches her fancy! She derives joy in volunteering as an active member of Volunteers Hub Africa; an award winning NGO given to the cause of selflessness and service to humanity with the sole aim of molding youths into Nation builders. She leisurely blogs at **teemiewrites.wordpress.com**

A lover of Horror who hails from Florida, USA. At day, he works in the ICT field but at night he creates stories to shock and thrill his readers. Remy believes the horror genre is important because it takes the concept of Good versus Evil and confronts it head-on. Connect with him on Twitter: @BeFreeWherever

A graduate of Modern Languages and Translation Studies from University of Calabar. Hails from Edo State, Nigeria. Eunice is a Christian, educator and a prolific poet. Most of her works can be found on her FaceBook page: **NicePoems**. Eunice is a coauthor of _Tales and Twists_ and a partner of the TalesFromTheOther Land Group.

Know also by the penname: _Nasthepoet_ , El-Nasir is a Nigerian Poet from Kwara State. He is presently a Ph.D student, at University of Ibadan where he also obtained his Master's Degree in English Literature in 2018. He had his Bachelor Degree in English and Literary studies at the Northern Nigerian Primal, the famous Ahmadu Bello University, Zaria. He is presently a Lecturer at Kwara State University, Malete, where he teaches English Literature. His preference in writing is tailored around; realism, intertexuality, romance and sociopolitical discourse. You can connect with him on:

Instagram: **@Nas_thepoet**

Email: elnasir11@gmail.com

An author fresh on the scene. She studied Digital Filmmaking and Video Production, practicing the craft of filmmaking and storytelling at the Art Institute of Houston. Having a passion for both film and writing, she dived into both fields. Lovender started writing two works in progress. A romantic-drama and a fun fantasy-adventure. However, she quickly understood she needed to show off more of her writing so she began a blog dedicated to short stories and her journey into the lucrative creative careers she has a passion for.

Connect: **Lovenderswhitestoryblog**

Twitter @lovender_s

Chimnazam Nnaemeka, popularly known as ChimzyPOB is a young writer from Anambra State. A first class graduate with a B.Sc. in Philosophy. He currently resides in Lagos, Nigeria and is known on the music scene for his song writing skills; skills which he extends to story writing and UX article publications. Some of his hobbies include listening to and writing music as well as reading random articles and watching random YouTube videos.

A coauthor of _Tales and Twists_ , Uk, as he is fondly called is a poet and tutor, whose passion for lyricism and reality helps him writes poems and songs. He is a graduate of English and Literature from Ahmadu Bello University, and holds a Masters Degree in Literature. About his reading habits, UK says, "reading to me is an advantage to gather and compare knowledge." He is a prolific poet and most of his works are on _TalesFromTheOtherLand blog_ where he majors as an editor

A Public Health Research Consultant. A graduate of History & International Studies with a Master's Degree in Humanitarian and Refugee Studies. Founder of **TalesFromTheOtherLand Group**. Notable works:

The Evening God Ate Spaghetti

Tales and Twists

Other literary accomplishments of his are on: **TalesFromTheOtherLand**.

He can be reached via Twitter **@EsshietEdidiong**

### EDITORIAL TEAM OF TALESFROMTHEOTHERLAND GROUP

A civil worker by day and a fiction writer by night, Chinyere is currently based in Lagos, Nigeria. She is a prolific writer and a coauthor of _Tales and Twists._

As a child, he was shy, maybe timid. He found expression in words. Initially it was not the audible words but the visible kind. Over time he found out that these words can be expressed in sound, music. So his love for writing and reading all things that have the scent of suspense and knowledge as well as music has grown. He is a Christian Medical Doctor with a particular passion for the health care needs of adolescents. It is these two love interests that have ruled most of his life and have granted him the opportunity to interface with young people through written words and to a lesser extent, music.

"Great things are not done by impulse but a series of small things brought together "

\- Vincent Van Gogh (1853-1890)

**TalesFromTheOtherLand (TFOL) Group**

Thank you for reading this book. For more literary adventures find us on

https://talesfromtheotherland.wordpress.com/

Visit _https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/TalesFromTheOtherLand_ to read our first anthology:

Tales and Twists

We will like to hear from you as regards your reviews or interest in participating in our upcoming literary activities/events:

esshietedidiong@gmail.com

