tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49721567698161475132012-02-06T14:16:43.694+01:00A fictional story that reconstructs a past with poems found today...Ritanoreply@blogger.comBlogger201100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4972156769816147513.post-1181013767057586072009-02-24T18:48:00.004+01:002009-02-24T20:16:14.904+01:00

The more I thought about the implication of not being the son of the man I called "Father", the more sleep eluded me. I had a rough night. I shut myself in my room and ignored the pleas of Ebere to eat and to speak with her. It was like a revelation had just taken place.The next morning, I had made my decision. Yes my eyes had eyebags and I was physically tired. But I had a strong determination

Ritanoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4972156769816147513.post-13125659447612056932008-10-22T12:25:00.003+01:002008-10-22T12:38:56.718+01:00

A Little SecretI sought to share this little secret with youThis secret that wiped away my gloomBut somehow I was unable to let you knowThat between us, we have a son;This little secret is a blessing to meFor it is a living proof that “we” existIt is the only reminder I have of youAnd my hope to go on with each passing day;I write this little secretHoping that one day you will see thisAnd know

Ritanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4972156769816147513.post-49924764864711862382008-09-27T19:44:00.001+01:002008-09-27T19:49:11.675+01:00

Each day that passed after Chimaobi walked away, Ugochi felt hurt. Some days she could not eat. She hoped that he will return and say it was all a joke. Her father prevented her from going to see Chimaobi. She was indoors waiting for Chimaobi. But as time went on, she did not hear from him. She was nonchalant about her wedding preparations coming up. Adaeze and Uchechi took over the planning and

Ritanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4972156769816147513.post-57842197917960343172008-09-06T20:45:00.004+01:002008-09-06T20:55:03.979+01:00

It happened. Yes it did.As Ugochi lay on the bed that night, sleep did not come easily to her. She thought after being with Chimaobi that she will feel better. Rather, she felt guilty and troubled. She was not only thinking about the forced marriage she was about to enter. She had to think of the consequences of sleeping with Chimaobi. Am I pregnant? Have I contracted an STD? She asked herself.

Ritanoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4972156769816147513.post-80952232050180881162008-09-03T21:06:00.005+01:002008-09-03T21:35:06.772+01:00

The day dragged rather slowly. Ugochi could not wait for evening to come. She prepared dinner by 4p.m. to enable her prepare for the evening and leave the house by 7p.m. She tried not to think about what she was about to do. Each time a voice asked her if she was sure of what she was doing, she quickly told herself she was getting back at her parents for giving her off to someone she did not love

Ritanoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4972156769816147513.post-3672645758934023332008-08-31T07:34:00.002+01:002008-08-31T07:42:31.263+01:00

It took some courage, but Ugochi had to get help from her sisters. She came out of the study where she had been all through the three days, except when she had to eat or use the bathroom. She went to her elder sisters’ room – the meeting point for all gist.“Hi everyone,” she said, feigning a smile as she sat on the couch beside Adaeze. Uchechi and Ogechi were on the bed, opposite the couch. As

Ritanoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4972156769816147513.post-38779688464174095102008-08-28T13:13:00.002+01:002008-08-28T13:19:32.365+01:00

It was three days later that Ugochi knew the details of her move to the UK. Her parents called her to their bedroom and broke the news to her.“You know you will go to London to continue your education,” her father started.She nodded slowly with no enthusiasm on her countenance. She sat on a chair opposite them who were seated at the edge of their bed.“You’ll leave next month.” He hesitated before

Ritanoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4972156769816147513.post-5520576222949443772008-08-25T12:55:00.003+01:002008-08-25T14:19:42.925+01:00

The next morning, as soon as Father stepped out, Ebere and I went back to Mother's room. We had not had breakfast. We pounced on the poems and continued from where we stopped."Chimaobi, please let me read this one to you," Ebere offered when we got to a sad poem.I nodded. She read out the poem with a voice deep with emotions. The poem was titled "You are the man". You are the manWho brings out

Ritanoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4972156769816147513.post-22910476681120128222008-08-17T23:02:00.000+01:002008-08-17T23:04:23.321+01:00

Ugochi was lounging with Chimaobi one evening when Uchechi found them. They were in a secluded part of the garden in Chimaobi’s home. That was where they usually spent their evenings getting to know more about themselves.“There you are,” Uchechi said. “Hmmm! Ugochi! When we ask you what is going on between you and Chimaobi, you say you are just friends. This one that we do not see you in the

Ritanoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4972156769816147513.post-52781033341328194382008-08-12T20:16:00.003+01:002008-08-12T20:27:17.346+01:00

Everything was changing.Ugochi now shared her days between church and Chimaobi. She began building her relationship with him. Theirs was an innocent and platonic relationship. The most contact they had were strolls holding each others hands and a few stolen kisses when they wanted to say good night.Everything was changing.Ugochi’s dreams of the future had changed. She no longer hoped to become a

Ritanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4972156769816147513.post-89605399918855818872008-08-07T13:16:00.002+01:002008-08-07T13:31:59.279+01:00

“Mum must have been deeply in love”, Ebere said as she passed one poem to me. We had gone through more than twenty poems but she wanted me to read out the one titled “One thing has not changed”.One thing has not changedI look all around meEverything is changingPeople around me are coldThings I once cherish I cannot hold;I wonder what is going onI take a chance to voice my thoughtsYet silence is

Ritanoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4972156769816147513.post-87628029238112726102008-08-05T14:26:00.004+01:002008-08-05T15:10:01.156+01:00

“I would like to go home now,” Ugochi muttered, almost out of breath.She attempted to stand up but Chimaobi held her back.“You can’t help it, you are a red blooded female not something else,” he whispered in her ears.“I wish I could help it. Now I know it is beyond my willpower, I have to find another way round it.”She managed to extricate from his grasp. She got up and stood at akimbo, staring

Ritanoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4972156769816147513.post-81029294874877540682008-08-02T23:40:00.003+01:002008-08-03T00:08:27.759+01:00

Ebere and I took turns in reading the poems. Each one told a story and seemed like a continuation of the previous one. We were able to associate with mother’s innocent feelings because, as adolescents, our hormones had become active. One poem I liked was “No More Pretence” and I read it out: -No more PretenceYesterday,I was a different girlI did not know what love meantI did not know I was living

Ritanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4972156769816147513.post-36817644254028366992008-07-29T22:59:00.003+01:002008-07-29T23:11:54.214+01:00

There was something about Chimaobi. Yes, he was handsome, dark in complexion, well-built and about 6feet 2inches. But those were not as intimidating as his presence. He seemed to fill up the kitchen. For a moment, Ugochi thought she will suffocate because of his aura.His gaze held her eyes. She could see some amusement in them. He had big, warm brown eyes with thin long lashes. “Almost feminine,”

Ritanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4972156769816147513.post-7873619994006712382008-07-28T22:02:00.003+01:002008-07-29T07:57:03.038+01:00

The four sisters were in their bedroom recounting events of their day.“Chimaobi is just a guy that fell out of heaven!” Adaeze was telling them. “Today, he helped an old woman get across the road. I was in class then. When he did it, all the ladies in class started cooing. Even our female lecturer had to pause for a while just staring helplessly at him.”“Every female in my class wants me to hook

Ritanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4972156769816147513.post-68920337096656594302008-07-27T15:24:00.002+01:002008-07-27T15:50:32.695+01:00

Ugochi Alozie was beautiful. Those who knew her marvelled at how one person could be blessed with good looks, exceptional intelligence and a loving heart. The tan-complexioned beauty stood 5 feet 8 inches tall at the age of sixteen. Her heart-shaped face, which radiated innocence and comeliness, was always lit with a smile. Though slender, her full bust and curvaceous hips always invited an extra

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Ebere met me standing sober in the middle of mother’s room. My eyes remained fixed on her bed where she had given up the ghost. I swallowed a painful lump while trying to fight back tears. I could still picture those nights when I would come into the room and meet Ebere already fast asleep by mother’s left side, and I would hurriedly cuddle up by her side where I knew I would fall into a

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It was about a year after mother’s death that Ebere and I were able to go into her room. Before then I feared that if I went there, I would remember the good times we had there and so miss her so much. I could not bear the memories. Ebere said she felt the same way too. Mother’s room was a welcome haven. We found peace in that room. We found happiness and shelter in that room. Even up to the age

Ritanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4972156769816147513.post-15259135019946906342008-07-23T18:56:00.000+01:002008-07-23T20:44:51.033+01:00

Mother’s death had always been a mystery to us. Why she had to die at the age of thirty-six, some months after I turned sixteen, was a question I kept asking God. She was young and beautiful. I should have added full of life, as that usually follows when describing someone that died an untimely death. But in the her last two years on earth, life was drained out of her. Maybe it was better she

Ritanoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4972156769816147513.post-58972455816028744632008-07-23T13:37:00.000+01:002008-07-23T13:45:58.191+01:00

To LOVE - For Me and the inspirationTo My Husband - Who took me to LOVE, who changed my Love StoryThe Non-fiction is a different "Lyrics to a Loved One"

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