MUST READ:- 7 DAYS
(WAR FROM THE OTHER WORLD)
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:. Written by: Olamilekan Afolabi
:. 08121297467
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♦ Episode ❶
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One can begin with the hallucinating and phantasm scene. There was a multitude of people, all dressed in black. They lined up in a procession, marching leisurely behind the ambulance; they were singing dirges and elegies. It was a crowd of mourners. The mourners were the deceased course mates and friends. They are truly bereaved. They chanted different mourning songs.
“We love you but Christ loves you more.” A friend of the deceased cried vigorously.
No matter how heartless and cold-blooded one proved to be, having no atom of human feeling, one would be moved on seeing the scenario.
The atmosphere was compactly fumigated with heart-felt and cordial sorrow. People, especially ladies cry keenly. Some were rolling on the ground, expressing their sympathy. But the thoughtful elders said, “the bereaved ones may find it difficult to take heart but none would ever volunteer to be buried with the corpse of the deceased”.
Carrying the posters bearing the picture of the deceased, they continued in their sorrowful voyage. They could not be discouraged by the scorching sunshine.
A passer-by halted to read the inscription on the poster, taking a vivid look at the picture. Discovering the deceased was a familiar figure; he shouted chaotically, he ran like a sport person in a two hundred metre race, displaying some antics like a mad man. He was out of his mind for a while. It was sudden. It dealt a heavy blow on him. Summoning back his senses, he wept acrimoniously.
“Bidemi is dead.” He uttered crying ceaselessly.
Unfortunately, he is Bode, he was the decease boyfriend. Boyfriend? Slip of tongue, fiancée, because their relationship has grown beyond imagined. He was a student of Osun State University, he had tried to reach Bidemi on phone, earlier since he was at home but all effort proved abortive. Her phone had been switch off and that was the information given to him by the network provider.
“Ha! How are the mighty fallen and the weapons are wasting? The good one has gone too soon?” Bode cried out loudly.
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Many passers-by soon joined the mourning queue. They could not hide their sorrow for the deceased. Fingers held by the teeth. Heads were shaking in pity. Arms clamped to the chest in compassion. Feet were being dragged in somber. Faces frowned in consternation and dismay. Gestures were louder than voices in expression. They were so sad. The sun had set too soon.
“O death, why did you claim the life of my beloved friend too soon?” A friend elucidated sadly.
Bidemi was an undergraduate of Obafemi Awolowo University, Ile-Ife. A final year level to core. She was such a beautiful, talented young damsel, friendly, vivacious and versatile. She was the best student in her class and one of the scholars in the school. Bidemi was tagged as a bloody ‘SU’ because she is too spiritual for people liking. What did this SU suppose to mean? It was an acronym for the Scripture Union. Bidemi neither had a boyfriend nor a male friend because he pledged to be faithful and authentic to her fiancée, Bode.
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“I could vividly recollect the last day we spent together. I had tried my best on that day to dissuade her from writing to eat but Bidemi would never consent until she poured out her mind. Her food was on the stool next to her bed. She wouldn’t give a damn until she had finished what she cherished most in her life. Writing was her hobby. Immediately after writing as if calculated, she complained of slight headache, slowly but spontaneously the headache became chronic. That was the beginning of the end. Now, she was lying inside the school ambulance lifelessly and inertly.” Her roommate, Chidinma, elucidated with a swollen eyebrows due to the incessant tears she had shed relentlessly.
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As if her mother had been waiting for her daughter’s corpse, she could be seen sitting on the bare floor looking at a direction without even blinking her eyes. She yelled and wailed vulnerably on their arrival, her only child had gives up the ghost; she also lost her husband recently.
“God must you do this to me?” She questioned rhetorically with tears in her face. Why must you treat me this badly and shoddily? I lost my husband recently. Now, my only daughter is lying here lifelessly (pointing at the ambulance).” She paused facing the sky with tears in her eyes. “God must you be wicked to your worshipper, I worship none but you… so this is how I will end up as a barren. Ah! My God you are indeed wicked; you’re indeed wicked and impious… I regret worshipping you…” She blasted loudly but unfinished.
“Mama Bidemi, stop saying junk and debris word on God… you are committing treason and duplicity against your creator, God doesn’t do anything without a reason, please take heart…” Mama Anu, Mama Bidemi’s neighbor consoled but was unable to finish with her statement.
“Please don’t use Bidemi to address me anymore… where is that Bidemi? She had been taken away from me by my wicked creator. I witness you lost a child, right? Should I pray to God to let you cry over all your children? You only lost a child, you still have four. I lose my only daughter and you are soothing me to take heart and thank God, for what? For taking my only child away from me, right? I pray anybody consoling me will experience the same pain and tenderness I am passing through now, the person will be demoted from Mummy somebody to a barren.” She lamented crying and dirge.
“I think I will have to see you later… God forbid bad thing, I won’t use this my two eyes to cry over my children, and the person that such have happened to God will help to console such… see you later.” Mama Anu lamented, enunciated and prayed before she took to her heel.
“So am I to end up as a barren?” Mama Bidemi asked rhetorically looking at her ghost daughter.
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{BACK IN BABA OLOGBOEWE’S COMPOUND}
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“Hope you learn something from that non-fiction fable?” Baba Ologboewe asked as he sniffed his snuff.
“Yes old one.” The sitting children replied in unison.
“What do you learn from the story Ade?” Baba asked pointing to Ade.
“We should watch our word because they become our destiny.” Ade replied facing the old man.
“Brilliant, please clap for him.” Baba Ologboewe commented as the children gave Ade a round of applauds.
“Yes, we should watch what we will be saying. Mama Bidemi unsuspectingly and unknowingly uttered an uncouth and unforeseen word on herself… back then in her university days, she was one of those runz girls on campus, her roommate, Bisola tried her best to change her for better but she either blasted or accused Bisola of being a pretender.
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{FLASHBACK} – 20 YEARS AGO
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“Bukola!…” Bisola started facing Bukola who was applying some make-up for a night party.
“Point of correction, I am not Bukola, I am Becky.” Bukola corrected walking majestically to her bed.
“Whatever… I know quite well that you know the harmful and the detrimental effects of your useless profession. You may catch an incurable and life-threaten disease like HIV/Aids. I know abortion is not a new thing to you, it is already part of you but don’t you think your worthless profession and your constant abortions might destroy your life as in the nearest future, I doubt your womb is working quite alright, you know your constant abortions can damage your womb which you know if your womb is damage you don’t have any hope of having a child …” Bisola enunciated loudly but gaping.
“Hey! Stop where you are, what concerns you with my life even if my womb is damage is it yours? And we know your type. There are many who claim to be SUs like you but they are found with the misdemeanors least expected from a professed vilest sinner. This is a fact that you cannot denied. Are they not goats in sheep’s clothing? Beside I am destiny to be a prostitute, not a road-side prostitute I’m talking about, I am talking about the international one, that I will be rendering my services nationwide and internationally, baby girl, God that gave us this (quivering her breasts) doesn’t say he gave us to keep to our self, it is even stated in the bible that ‘giver never lack’ so what is your problem Bisola? as I am now I don’t pray for any baby or child and if a useless pregnancy come my way now and I was unable to flush it, I pray the child will die before his/her time, even if she doesn’t die I will kill her myself. She must leave this world for me so that I can enjoy this life to the fullest; I am here to enjoy this life and not to nurture any useless child. You can be your SU, but don’t come to me and beg for money, you know my only source of income. Babe, see you tomorrow.”She concluded and leave for the club.
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“My children, please watch your words because they become your thoughts, watch your thoughts because they become your actions, watch your actions, they become your behaviors, watch your behaviors because they become your destiny. I hope you have learned one or two things from this short story?” Baba Ologboewe commented the children.
“Yes the old one.” They replied in chorus.
“The old one, what is the title of our next story?” Ade asked voluntarily.
“7 DAYS (WAR FROM THE OTHER WORLD).” Baba Ologboewe finalized smiling as he picked up his walking stick and headed to his small hut, the children departed to their respective houses.
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èèèèèèèTO BE CONTINUED TOMORROW èèèèèèè
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©Olamilekan Afolabi 2018. All right reserved
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All right reserved. Except for use in review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval, is forbidden without permission in written or orally from the author.
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:. Written and composed by: Olamilekan Afolabi (Certified Author Afolabi)
:. _: 08121297467(Whatsapp)
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[email protected]
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SAY NO TO PLAGIARISM
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This story is a fictional work. All characters in this story have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation or whatsoever to any one bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the writer, and all incidents are pure invention or coincidental.
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#Afolabi_always_carex
#Writing_is_fun
Now the story is here, the episode one is just an advice and counsel for our school girls on campus and off campus, who find runz or let say prostitution as a means of livelihood. The detrimental effects and outcome is started in episode one of this story. Now the real story is here… 7 days… Please sit down with your pop-corn and soft drink as you read this junk work of mine
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Thank you all.
T.B.C