Life Can Only Be Good



“I wish one  had the power to relive a good life, Sam.”

“Well, that’s not impossible?”

“You know, like having the same pleasant experience lived over and over again,”

“It won’t be good.”

“Well…., ”

“I think we need all the drama to spice up life and make us stronger and wiser,”

“Naturally, people crave for the good life and no one, I mean no one wants the bad life.”

“I do think there is no such thing as a bad life, Greg. ”


“I believe there can be bad businesses, bad marriages, bad events, bad jobs, bad people but not a bad life.

“Of course those are the things that make life bad”

“These bad occurrences are unavoidable. Nevertheless, we have control over how they affect us and if we can control how these affect us, our lives would always be ecstatic.”

“The fact is that it’s almost impossible to subdue the way we feel about a bad circumstance.”

“That’s right but it matters that we wade through to reach the end unmaimed.”

“I expect the best out of life every day though.”

” It’s human to expect the best out of life each day but one should not totally ignore the likelihood of the unavoidable negative happenings- it helps to prepare the mind for them, prevent a shock when they come and also helps to easily lunch a possible solution.”

“You totally sound like my life coach.”

“I wish I was. You need a mind restructuring.”


“Everything will go well but don’t wipe out the possibility of losing her to Mr. Right from your mind.”

“There is no such thing as Mr. Right. It’s always Mr. Greg. Greg all the way.”

“I’ll be watching from afar.”

“I really want to marry her. ”

“I won’t stand in the way.”


“Have you ever thought about ending up in a bad marriage with her.”

“I’m prepared to wade through it with her to reach the end unmaimed.”

” I’m impressed and I think you’re ready.”







Baby Merchants 6


As I sat waiting for the program to start, I kept thinking about the proper name of the secret home, its legality and safety. Even though I wanted a place to hide from the mocking world, I cared about my life and its safety as well. Rebecca assured me of good stay if I could keep to The Rules, but, to me, that’s conditional and not enough. I hated ifs before a necessity.

“I welcome you all to the First Evening Gathering.”

I looked up to see the man who attended to Rebecca and I that evening at the reception. He looked different in his traditional attire. His bulging stomach hidden within his loose kaftan, almost invisible. I wished I knew his name.

“Countless healthy babies get their lives forcefully terminated around the world each day before they could make it into the world. This happens at the same time married men and women desperately try in vain to have their own.” he addressed us – the pregnant girls and we listened, hypnotised by his eloquence. Someone else addressed the couples loudly and I tried in vain to eavesdrop what he was saying while listening to the speaker before us.

“Some of these couples,” he said gesturing at the men and women over at the couple’s row, a melancholic expression across his face, “have sought for years in vain to have their own kids. Do you know that most of them over there are the ones shouldering a sizeable portion of the financial burden of this home?” I drifted away from the speech to think about the possibility of those couples actually shouldering the so-called financial burden without an eye for the gain. I waved the thought away when I recalled I was only sixteen. My mom would always say, “what do you know Chetachi? You’re just a child.”

“We are here to protect the unborn babies and prevent the dumping of those innocent, helpless babies in the bushes, gutters and refuse dumps. We take very good care of you during this journey, to make sure that you and your babies are fine at the end of the day.” he paused to wipe the sweat beads all over his face.

Why does this home also keep girls like me whose family members do not know their whereabouts? A question popped up in my head but I refused it exit.

He continued in his speech smoothly, with flawless eloquence while questions, many questions in my head fought for a chance to be heard. Questions like;

What’s the name of this home ..?

Can I be allowed to return home whenever I feel like I don’t want to stay anymore?

Can I go out to visit my friends, go shopping?

Even though these questions had been answered in The Rules, they still pop up in my head.

I saw myself raising up my hand for a chance to ask my questions but was totally ignored. I recalled what ‘auntie’ said about asking questions and calmed down with plans to find out from her especially the name of the home.

Rebecca walked into the hall. I wasn’t expecting to see her again that same evening. Is she one of the staff? Was a question I asked myself. I would later find out. However, she looked stunning in her black evening dress, evidence of good living written all over her. A couple followed closely behind her holding hands – a stoutly built man whose female companion towered above. I watched them walk to the couple’s row and Rebecca took her seat behind them. I made up my mind to meet with her so we could talk. I would love it if she took me to her home.

After the man’s speech, a formidable man emphasized on the importance of standing by The Rules after a brief summary of its content. Next on the program was the interview. When it was announced I wasn’t so comfortable with it.

The interview period was exhausting. A plump woman in his mid-forties with a title and initials Dr.Mrs C. O as her name waved me to a seat and handed me a false name, Miss Gugirl, written in block letters on a pink sticky note. I looked at her questioning. She said that was my name and it’s meant to protect me. I didn’t go further to ask why because I suppose I knew why. She asked many unnecessary questions to which I either nodded or shook my head. Then the last question came;

“Would you like your baby to have a home and caring parents or be kept in the orphanage?”

I told her clearly that I wanted this to be over, have my normal life back and go back to school. I didn’t care a hoot about whatever they, the management might decide to do with my baby afterwards. She looked steadily at me and smiled as though she was amused.

“It’s okay,” she said.

Finally, she gave me a two-page document to sign and without going through it, I signed it. She wrote down her phone number in a yellow sticky note and said I should always come to her for a friendly chat anytime I needed to. I thanked her even though number was as useless as her name. Outgoing call was not allowed.

I searched the hall for Rebecca but she was gone. Thoughts of seeing her filled my mind. Apart from the need to go home with her, I needed someone to talk to as well. My interviewer promised to organise a meeting with Rebecca. But I was led away immediately after the interview before others began to leave the hall, I was already in my room casting a frequent look at the wall clock. At 9:15 pm, I felt the bump in my lower abdomen harden slightly.

As I lay in my bed tired and lonely, I thought about my parents and home and had to cry that even though I wanted a place to hide my shame, I couldn’t be allowed to live my own life.

No access to phone calls. That made me very sad. I never knew I could be this lonely. I wondered what next.

I, Gabriel 4

When Jennie comes over to where I’m learning to sit from a lying position, I cease the chance to talk to her.

“Hi, Jennie?” I whisper and she presses her purple teddy tightly to her chest, immensely blown away. I place my pointer over my lips and give her a prolonged ‘sh’ sound as a sign she shouldn’t let the cat out of the bag yet with her eccentric hysteric mannerism. She gets it and calms down a bit but still looks apprehensive. She sure knows babies my age only gurgle and coo. They don’t converse meaningfully.

“How are you,” I whisper again to get her flap her tongue but her main focus is my mouth with an intermittent glance over her shoulder at my mom and hers, probably wishing they could wiretap my eloquence.

“How could you do that? You’re just a baby” She asks, her voice shaky. I feel happy that she responds.

“This is okay Jennie. Some babies talk early and some earlier than others. I know I’m freaking you out but understand that this is how I am.” I whispered

She keeps mute, looks at me as if I’m one hell of an unearthly being and back at them and makes to skedaddle.

“Don’t go away, Jennie. You can talk to people, right? Say your mind, ask questions, contribute to discussions, right? I’ve been longing since I turned two months to express my opinions just like that but I don’t want to scare them. It’s not everyone that can stand an eloquent infant. That’s why I chose to talk to you, Jennie. I feel you’re strong at heart.” I stop when I notice her eyes bulge and her face become disorganised by the horror movie before her in such a way that amuses me but when she slumps on the floor fainted, I freak out. Mum and Elina rush to the scene and carry her to the sofa. Mum calls the emergency and as we all wait for the paramedics to arrive, they both ask, “what could have happened to her,” and mom keeps asking if she was ill.

As I look at her lying there as though dead, a thought crosses my mind. I know that when she wakes, it will never be the same again, I will always be a weirdo, she might stop coming to our house too.

Well, I guess I didn’t quite know Jennie well. Now that I know she shakes like a leaf too, just like all of the – mom and others, I’ll never distress her with my eloquent chatter. I only wish my self-revelation living in her memory could vanish with her present unconsciousness state so that when she wakes up, it will be her usual peaceful happy childish life.


The Limping Son of Money


Jenny, I saw money today!”
“I saw money and we had a very serious chat.”
“Honey, are you alright?”
“Yeah! So, I asked money why it’s so hard for him and his entire family to come to us.”
“Now I look like a moron listening to nonsense. Could you please cut it and go straight to the point?
“Money said his little son followed us everywhere. But he was going to take him back.”
“Interesting joke.”
“I asked him why.”
“Uh huh?”
“He said the last time he saw us with his son, he was limping his right leg.”
“What was that suppose to mean?”
“He said his son had broken his right leg under our care. He said if we couldn’t take care of his little one, how would we ever take care of his entire family?”
“Funny joke John. You nailed it. I’m cracked up.”
“He said that if we could take care of his little son, he would grow and have his own wife and many children in our house.”
“That makes sense. So where are you heading to with this money and his family and son limping leg joke?”
We have to take care of our little money for financial growth.”
“How do you mean?”
“By cutting down on unnecessary spending.”

“We are not extravagant, John. We buy only what we need.”
“Yes, but your personal needs are the problem. Financially we fall into lower class but you insist on having everything an upper-class woman should have.”
“Do you mean to say that I squander our money. Did you take me out on a walk to say this to me?”
“I thought it would be better to let you know how I feel about some things you do which I don’t like. Bottling up isn’t good for a healthy relationship.”
“This moment was supposed to make us bond stronger but you are spoiling it with your admonitions.”
“Honey, it’s important that we talked about this to prevent future conflict when it hits. I’m worried sick about our financial future”
“Have you made inquiries about our new car choice with a dealer? I hope this section is not about how you have changed your mind.”
“And now this. This is exactly what I’m talking about. We have a car that takes us to places and you keep talking about getting a luxury car.”
“We need that car, John. Have you heard of how dreaming big can help one work hard?”
“I’m only bothered about our financial statements in two years to come.”
“You shouldn’t. We should only make plans on how to create other sources of income.”
“Did you get my point?”
“What point? About cutting down on my personal spending? Of course, I did.”
“I’m glad you did.”
“I feel so sad right now.”
“You’ll be alright in the morning.”

Writing Challenge

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After 18 stories in 23 days and 7 days yet to go, I’m bringing this challenge to an abrupt end. I know! It means that I failed woefully. What Happened? Stress at the office- has attacked a collected attitude needful for proper reasoning. A good writing requires cool-headedness, not a scattered mind. I know things will get better soon. It’s not always that way. But for now, no chance.

But to be sincere, I must say that I achieved a lot during these 18 days I was able to complete my daily challenge.

Setting goals in life help one to be more focused on whatever one desires to achieve. It’s motivating. It gingers and pushes one to work harder towards achieving one’s aim. I think this writing challenge is somehow similar to set goals because I had an aim, even though I didn’t quite achieve that aim, I woke up every morning having in mind there was something I must do and every day I made plans on what to write, when to write and how to write it to be able to produce a presentable outcome within the stipulated time period. This attitude wasn’t part of my writing ever since I created my website a year ago. I didn’t know where I was heading to and didn’t care. Now I’m more focused and care more.

Writer’s block – Someone once said that she didn’t allow writer’s block to stand in the way to her constant writing. She often sat before the blank page with blank head and yet get some words on the blank page and most of the times ideas were triggered from there. I argued it out with her but, during this period of my challenge I found out that, yes, it’s actually true that someone could be able to do that and that is if the person is not under stress. Although for me, there is a huge difference in content quality when the ideas flow by intuition and when forced out but in the end, there is always a presentable outcome.

Setting limits – During my challenge I learnt that it’s possible to shrink a story from 1000 words to 50 words and still give a clear context. Although it didn’t work for some of the stories, it worked well for some. This took a lot of my self-control to keep to the limit though

Time was a big problem in the challenge. I already have a tight schedule and this challenge made it worse. There were days I felt like paying someone to write and post my stories. It was that bad.

What else? Editing took approximately I hour of my time in each story. Surprised? Don’t be – I, first of all, write 100 to 200 words and then shrink to 50, check spellings, check grammar and yet when I thought it’s shipshape and set for publishing, a giant mistake popped up and the editing went on.

My achievements – More visitors, more views, more followers. I’m thankful for all these. Thank you, guys.

Below are the top 5 stories during my challenge

  1. Gone Beneath
  2. Take me
  3. Chains
  4. Go Get Jobs
  5. Male Child