Questions

Hasan Yahya, Ph.D

If you did not travel actually, and you are a  wise traveler like me who travels only in imagination. You are lucky to travel safely, without facing airplane hijacking, or boat pirating in your voyage!  You travel in you dreams, awake or sleeping. In both cases you enjoy traveling, seeing people you know, and people you never saw before, strange people, with ugly heads or huge shapes. If you face danger, like someone is running behind you to kill you, you immediately find  your way to escape. You simply, just  open your eyes.

My friend Jimmy, was one of these wise travelers. He used to travel every day and night. In the street, or in the classroom. Swimming, or eating. Jogging or play poling, He was a wise traveler all the time. His ugly face made him a wise traveler.

One day, his travel was real, he took the greyhound to California,  in the way, he knew a girl, she was in his age, she’s leaving her parents to find her way away from sisters, brothers, and away from Mom, and Dad.

He was leaving his town, people began to call him names, Mr. imagination. Dummy traveler, honey dreamer. And the last name made him decide to leave the town forever, Mr. fantasy! He hated to hear that name!

They both discovered that wanted freedom, and to begin a new life. She found that he was funny, and sincere in his talks. He found her a good listener to his jokes. In short, they found each other.

The trip was too long, and they have to stay the night at the hotel. To save some money, she suggested to have one room and divide the rate in between. He accepted the idea. At the room, there was a program show on TV. She was watching. Channel 55 broadcasting a film about James dean. The good looking guy of the 1960’s, at the end of the film, he dies in his way to meet his girl friend.  She waited for him forever, after she new the news. The girl was crying, he noticed, and gave her a handkerchief. Waited for her to come back to reality. 

He began to tell her about his visit to Tokyo, Japan in his dreams. He read once about the Geisha girls, and ever since, he dreamed as traveling to Tokyo and have a good time with these fairy tales about the Geisha girls.  She smiled, and listened to his story with dreams. Then she began to laugh on his jokes, when he discovered that the geisha girl has a boy-friend, came suddenly while he was trying to make out with the geisha girl. 

-          “poor Jimmy!, wherever you travel, you find yourself in trouble.”

-           “Yes! You are right, but not all times I was running, in fact sometimes I was hiding, for my safety.” They laughed together.

-          “Time to sleep” she said, “he suggested to sleep on the couch. She did not mind, but she said, that he may sleep on the bed beside her. If he can control himself. But he insisted to sleep away from her on the couch. In the morning he found her laying beside him and her arm over his chest.

Hasan Yahya, is an American Arab scholar, a professor of Sociology, a columnist at wfol.tv, Malaysia, and TINA International News Agency, Chicago, USA. www.hasanyahya.com


- hasan yahya

Hasan Yahya, Ph.D

If you did not travel actually, and you are a  wise traveler like me who travels only in imagination. You are lucky to travel safely, without facing airplane hijacking, or boat pirating in your voyage!  You travel in you dreams, awake or sleeping. In both cases you enjoy traveling, seeing people you know, and people you never saw before, strange people, with ugly heads or huge shapes. If you face danger, like someone is running behind you to kill you, you immediately find  your way to escape. You simply, just  open your eyes.

My friend Jimmy, was one of these wise travelers. He used to travel every day and night. In the street, or in the classroom. Swimming, or eating. Jogging or play poling, He was a wise traveler all the time. His ugly face made him a wise traveler.

One day, his travel was real, he took the greyhound to California,  in the way, he knew a girl, she was in his age, she’s leaving her parents to find her way away from sisters, brothers, and away from Mom, and Dad.

He was leaving his town, people began to call him names, Mr. imagination. Dummy traveler, honey dreamer. And the last name made him decide to leave the town forever, Mr. fantasy! He hated to hear that name!

They both discovered that wanted freedom, and to begin a new life. She found that he was funny, and sincere in his talks. He found her a good listener to his jokes. In short, they found each other.

The trip was too long, and they have to stay the night at the hotel. To save some money, she suggested to have one room and divide the rate in between. He accepted the idea. At the room, there was a program show on TV. She was watching. Channel 55 broadcasting a film about James dean. The good looking guy of the 1960’s, at the end of the film, he dies in his way to meet his girl friend.  She waited for him forever, after she new the news. The girl was crying, he noticed, and gave her a handkerchief. Waited for her to come back to reality. 

He began to tell her about his visit to Tokyo, Japan in his dreams. He read once about the Geisha girls, and ever since, he dreamed as traveling to Tokyo and have a good time with these fairy tales about the Geisha girls.  She smiled, and listened to his story with dreams. Then she began to laugh on his jokes, when he discovered that the geisha girl has a boy-friend, came suddenly while he was trying to make out with the geisha girl. 

-          “poor Jimmy!, wherever you travel, you find yourself in trouble.”

-           “Yes! You are right, but not all times I was running, in fact sometimes I was hiding, for my safety.” They laughed together.

-          “Time to sleep” she said, “he suggested to sleep on the couch. She did not mind, but she said, that he may sleep on the bed beside her. If he can control himself. But he insisted to sleep away from her on the couch. In the morning he found her laying beside him and her arm over his chest.

Hasan Yahya, is an American Arab scholar, a professor of Sociology, a columnist at wfol.tv, Malaysia, and TINA International News Agency, Chicago, USA. www.hasanyahya.com


- hasan yahya

Writing short stories or poetry is where most writers begin their long journey towards publication. It provides a perfect creative outlet for those who have the feint stirrings of a story to tell and wish to transfer those creative thoughts to paper. Crafting a unique and well-rounded story is not easy and there are many pitfalls but with a little help, success is only a few steps away. When writing short stories, always consider what you are trying to achieve. It is very easy for the writer to become lost in the depths of their own imagination and a 1000 word story can easily be trebled. Writing short stories is an art form and it deserves a great deal of recognition as the writer must be focussed and dedicated to the task at hand.

There are many different story lengths available, writers can choose to write flash fiction which can be anything from approximately 50 words up to 1000, although many fiction magazines seek out stories which also have had the chance to develop and grow and these can be around the 2000 word mark. Identifying a market for the story is the first step and then once this has been determined, it is time to plan the story in its entirety. Writing short stories that will sell readily requires additional planning, so extend the market research around the intended publication. For example, what do you know about the readership? A story about a teenage pregnancy is not going to be of interest to publications aimed at those in their senior years unless the writer can make it relate to them significantly.

Many writers fail at the first post by writing solely for themselves. There is of course, nothing wrong with writing for the sheer joy of creativity alone, but as many writers would like nothing more than to see their story and name in print, it is vital that those writers change their mind set from that of an amateur to a professional and this will then afford them much more opportunities and in fact, fuel that creative fire even further.

When writing a story with a minimal word count, many writers neglect to develop their characters fully but it is important that the reader begins to connect with the characters and start to care as to the outcome, otherwise the story will lack interest for them. Allow the reader to identify with a strong human interest angle and this will help keep them interested and following through to the end.

Stories are around us all the time but it is our own unique interpretation that makes the story come alive. As writers, it is important that any witnessed mannerisms, characteristics and events are all stored away for future use, as aspects of events can be used in short stories, for example an old creepy building that you may have observed in passing could be used when trying to picture a haunted house for a ghost story. Life produces unlimited opportunities for story tellers everywhere but when writing short stories with a serious intent, we have to make good use of this free material and then we can go from amateur to professional quickly and easily.


- Annette Young

Short story structure demands that you abandon all ideas of forming your own brand of storytelling. The rules are very simple: comply to the form that sells, or you don’t sell.

Short story structure has been around since the beginning of time. You can read short stories in the Bible and on cave walls. They all have the same structure; so don’t try to reinvent the wheel.

Every short story has a theme - that invisible thread that runs from beginning to end, delivering a silent message to the reader. For example, Moby Dick wasn’t about hunting whales. It was about revenge. Gone With the Wind wasn’t about love. It was about Scarlet O’Hara’s manipulation and control and how it led to her devastation.

So - what is your story about? When you know the overall theme, think of the middle scene - the plot. What will be the one scene that will turn the whole story? Get that firmly in your mind, take notes on it, and then head your whole story toward that objective.

Every story must have conflict, and without it, you are dead in the water. What is your conflict? There are five kinds:

· Man vs. man - any kind of man, woman, or child conflicting with anyone else

· Man vs. nature - any kind of conflict where man battles nature, whether it be a storm or wild animal

· Man vs. self - I advise new writers to stay away from this one. It deals with a man, woman or child battling with themselves. It is difficult to bring this kind of story to a good resolution.

· Man vs. society - man, woman or child battling with peers, groups, society, organizations, authority, etc.

· Man vs. machine - fantasy stories with aliens or machines

Where to Begin:

Don’t begin at the beginning. For example, opening a story with a normal scene no longer works. Today’s readers are an action-oriented group that bases their entertainment on electronic toys, fast-paced movies, and faster paced stories, so start your first paragraph with gripping action. It can be part of a flashback, or even the middle of a scene.

Editors are buying third person (he, she) in past tense these days, so don’t write a story in first person unless the magazine you have in mind requires first person.

Be sure you include characterization, which is another whole lesson, but you should write out a list of 50 things describing your two leading characters - what they like, what they think, where they came from, physical description, etc.

Every story must have dialog. If you don’t think you can write believable dialog (or even if you do), go to a restaurant and eavesdrop. Take notes. Eavesdrop everywhere you go. It may not be polite, but it is the best teacher available.

If you are interested in writing, you can do it, because writing is a learned skill. Get out that pen and paper, typewriter, or computer and get started. Good luck! See below for more writing tips.


- Deborah Owen

Hasan A. Yahya, Ph.D

Istanbul is the center of East West, all people of new and old shapes and dresses may be found in the streets. Tourists from all over the world, enjoying holy places, churches, mosques, and restaurants. I met her in the street in front the Ahmad Basha Mosque. In the café, the place seemed to belong to the old  dark unlike the hustling street outside. The place was full of people.

In previous years, John has countered several sex love and situations with women. One was called Alesha and she was twenty years old. The second was called Khadija, almost in the same age. Both were dreaming to meet a guy coming from America. The third was Miss Erikson , the philosophy secretary at University Department.

 John arrived somewhat late after noon,  and entered few steps in the airport building hall, Suddenly he heard a womanly voice, he looked back, and there she is, Alesha was coming toward him, after the elevator was opened, she waiting for him! We were alone in the elevator, I said:

- “what are you doing here?”

- “I know you were coming!”

- “But …why, where is Miss Erikson?”

- “She old me to come to receive you, because she was busy.”

 Alisha was always asking me about John’s phone number, she wanted to know where John  lives, But John was denying her that pleasure. In his own mind, he doesn’t want a girl in her age, plus she was one of his students in the Philosophy course.

 “I asked you several times to give me your phone, but you refused, I asked you about where do you live, you never gave me that. So I will know now!” Alisha pluntly said!

The elevator came to a holt, on the sixth floor in the building where John lives, , before it stopped, he was trying to find his way out, but she was standing in the way. She came close to his face. As if she is inviting him to kiss her. But he  tely did not encourage her and said in a strange voice:

-          “Alesha! What are you doing?”  The elevator door opened, and John and Alisha left out to the apartment. Alesha was following John pulling his case. He quickly put the key in the door, John was terribly afraid someone might see the young lady with me. Everybody knows about his story with his wife, who through herself from the balcony two years back. In few moments both  were in the apartment.

-          “So! Here you live alone! Right!

-          “Yes! I do!” John said!

-           “Good! Because I know that you live alone!”

-          “So what! What exactly you have in mind, what do you  want from me Alesha?”

-          “Well, give me something to drink first, I am your guest now!”  She sat on the couch, and waited, John entered the kitchen to bring something cold for her. She followed him to the kitchen, and said:

-          “why are you wasting time. You know, I love you! I want you! I don’t care how old are you! I am happy to be with you! Aren’t you happy to be with me, John?”

-          “Yes I am, but I am your teacher, not your friend!”

-           “But I love you! What shall I do.”

-          “Alesha! You have crossed the red lines, Alisha! You have to leave immediately.”

-          “I am not leaving this room, I am planning to stay here all night!”

-          “What about your folks, your parents?”

-          They know that I am sleeping tonight with my girl-friend.”

-          “But you are not! So you lied to your parents.”

-          “Don’t say parents, my dad married another woman, and he rarely come to see my mom.” And my mom is busy with her boyfriend. Don’t worry about me!” I told my mother that I will spent the night studying, I mean … studying with you!” while she was shaking her head right and left, laughing.  And whispered in her lovely tempting voice, let’s do it, John, right now!”  

Hasan Yahya, is an American Arab scholar, a professor of Sociology, a columnist at wfol.tv, Malaysia, and TINA International News Agency, Chicago, USA. www.hasanyahya.com


- hasan yahya

When Lanre Animashaun’s wife delivered Nigeria’s first Octuplets at Lagos Island Maternity, he thought he was dreaming. In a daze, he heard the voice of doctors and nurses congratulate him on making history by fathering eight babies at a go!

“You are so lucky, Mr Animashaun.they are very beautiful babies”, a tall doctor with warm eyes enthused

“..and very healthy too”, another with thick glasses chipped in

“Congratulation, your new name should be Okunrinmeta…the man with the strength and verve of three agile men!!,”a short nursing sister who has short jerry curls joked, still basking in the euphoria of achieving this medical feat on African soil.

Even in his confused state,Lanre knew he ought thank the medical ingenuities who saved his wife’s life like any responsible man should. So he opened his mouth but was surprised at the sound of deep croaking laughter that came of there:

“Hehehehheeeheeehehahahhahaahhahahaahaha!!!”.The laughing voice rang out clear and loud startling the medical team who stared at him amazed as he continued laughing hard till fat drops of tears splatter down his laughing cheeks. Nearby, a cleaner who was dusting an empty leather chair by the window stopped his work and smiled as he commented”..Eeya..De man happy no be small…”.One disapproving stare from the medical director stopped him from saying more and he quickly resumed dusting. The medical team continued watching the young man who is now holding his stomach as he laughed on. When a virile young man like this suddenly retort to hearty laughter in the face of serious issues, then all is not well. Several decades in the medical field have taught each one of them that.Each mused if the young father was suffering from schrophrenia or some sorts of brain disorder.Feeling the startled eyes of the medical team,Lanre Animashaun ordered his stubborn mind to stop laughing or can a man be laughing when his heart is totally confused?.Yet his determined mind refused his summon as it ordered his mouth and throat to laugh out at the work of the supernatural who gives a poor “London tailor “like him octuplets while rich couples with million in bank accounts cry for just a child!.Can’t the angels see that he patched cheap clothes for a living?…That his wife, Abike is a petty tomato seller in Oshodi? He commenced another round of laughter but the medical ingenuities have had enough. The tall doctor with warm eyes went up to him and shook him hard

“Are you alright Mr Animashaun?”, he asked concerned

Another round of laughter met his enquiry but the now irritated doctor shook him harder. The laughter subsided gradually and now drained; Lanre slumped into an empty chair, staring pensively into space. After few moments passed, he raised tired eyed feeling really ashamed before speaking:

“I have to go home to pick up some baby clothes and also inform our relatives..I will be back very soon”

Relieved that the young man had finally said something sensible, they allowed him take his leave, watching his slumped back as he walked out of the maternity before they went back to their offices, still very baffled.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

As Lanre rode on the okada motor bike to his one room apartment in Ejiwunmi Street,Mushin from Lagos Island Maternity, temptation whispered to him in the breeze slapping his face and like the Nazarene, he rebuked the tempting voice of sin..

When he entered his sparse dingy room, the voice became bolder and clearer. Shaking his head to clear it,Lanre began to pack the cheap clothes he had made for the baby…who would have known there were eight babies in Abike’s womb!.A sharp knock broke the silence and Adamu, his childhood friend entered without invitation. A tall lanky man with a loud voice, Adamu is a” London tailor “like himself .They usually walked together on the streets of Lagos sourcing for customers who would patch cheap clothes for few amounts of money.Today,Adamu spoke with an unusual slurred voice:

“I hear wetin happen”

“Na so we see am o”,Lanre replied pensively

“We tin we go do now”, whispering now

“I no know o..i don die o,dis na slow poison!!”,Lanre sobbed softly

“I pity you ,my friend..How u go fit feed dem?..Ha! wahala don come o”,Adamu joined his friend weeping over looming poverty they could almost touch with their fingers..How would he pay the school fees and feed nine stomach with his petty tailoring business?.After the weeping subsided, the two friends stared pensively for a long time before Lanre heard temptation speaking clearly again. This time, temptation was Adamu’s unusually soft voice:

“I think you should run away till things settle down”, seriously

“What!!!”, he exclaimed feigning surprise

“Yes, run to my hometown in Kaduna. I won’t tell anyone I saw you..My uncle ,Salisu will help you hide”

He brought out folds of naira notes before continuing “this is all i have now with me, go now before you die in poverty”

By now,lanre had stopped feigning surprise.Adamu is his best friend and could read his mind like a book.Quickly,he packed his few clothes into a black polythene bag, avoiding Adamu’s eyes as he took the folded notes including the “No 17,Sabon Gari Market” address Adamu wrote on a slim paper before he ran out heading for the Motor park in Jibowo.He hope he could still catch the Kaduna bound ABC bus before the whole world knows of the “history” the dumb doctors said he just made..!

(C)Oregbemi Olayinka

 

 


- Oregbemi Olayinka Modupe

Short story structure demands that you abandon all ideas of forming your own brand of storytelling. The rules are very simple: comply to the form that sells, or you don’t sell.

Short story structure has been around since the beginning of time. You can read short stories in the Bible and on cave walls. They all have the same structure; so don’t try to reinvent the wheel.

Every short story has a theme - that invisible thread that runs from beginning to end, delivering a silent message to the reader. For example, Moby Dick wasn’t about hunting whales. It was about revenge. Gone With the Wind wasn’t about love. It was about Scarlet O’Hara’s manipulation and control and how it led to her devastation.

So - what is your story about? When you know the overall theme, think of the middle scene - the plot. What will be the one scene that will turn the whole story? Get that firmly in your mind, take notes on it, and then head your whole story toward that objective.

Every story must have conflict, and without it, you are dead in the water. What is your conflict? There are five kinds:

· Man vs. man - any kind of man, woman, or child conflicting with anyone else

· Man vs. nature - any kind of conflict where man battles nature, whether it be a storm or wild animal

· Man vs. self - I advise new writers to stay away from this one. It deals with a man, woman or child battling with themselves. It is difficult to bring this kind of story to a good resolution.

· Man vs. society - man, woman or child battling with peers, groups, society, organizations, authority, etc.

· Man vs. machine - fantasy stories with aliens or machines

Where to Begin:

Don’t begin at the beginning. For example, opening a story with a normal scene no longer works. Today’s readers are an action-oriented group that bases their entertainment on electronic toys, fast-paced movies, and faster paced stories, so start your first paragraph with gripping action. It can be part of a flashback, or even the middle of a scene.

Editors are buying third person (he, she) in past tense these days, so don’t write a story in first person unless the magazine you have in mind requires first person.

Be sure you include characterization, which is another whole lesson, but you should write out a list of 50 things describing your two leading characters - what they like, what they think, where they came from, physical description, etc.

Every story must have dialog. If you don’t think you can write believable dialog (or even if you do), go to a restaurant and eavesdrop. Take notes. Eavesdrop everywhere you go. It may not be polite, but it is the best teacher available.

If you are interested in writing, you can do it, because writing is a learned skill. Get out that pen and paper, typewriter, or computer and get started. Good luck! See below for more writing tips.


- Deborah Owen

Hasan A. Yahya, Ph.D

Istanbul is the center of East West, all people of new and old shapes and dresses may be found in the streets. Tourists from all over the world, enjoying holy places, churches, mosques, and restaurants. I met her in the street in front the Ahmad Basha Mosque. In the café, the place seemed to belong to the old  dark unlike the hustling street outside. The place was full of people.

In previous years, John has countered several sex love and situations with women. One was called Alesha and she was twenty years old. The second was called Khadija, almost in the same age. Both were dreaming to meet a guy coming from America. The third was Miss Erikson , the philosophy secretary at University Department.

 John arrived somewhat late after noon,  and entered few steps in the airport building hall, Suddenly he heard a womanly voice, he looked back, and there she is, Alesha was coming toward him, after the elevator was opened, she waiting for him! We were alone in the elevator, I said:

- “what are you doing here?”

- “I know you were coming!”

- “But …why, where is Miss Erikson?”

- “She old me to come to receive you, because she was busy.”

 Alisha was always asking me about John’s phone number, she wanted to know where John  lives, But John was denying her that pleasure. In his own mind, he doesn’t want a girl in her age, plus she was one of his students in the Philosophy course.

 “I asked you several times to give me your phone, but you refused, I asked you about where do you live, you never gave me that. So I will know now!” Alisha pluntly said!

The elevator came to a holt, on the sixth floor in the building where John lives, , before it stopped, he was trying to find his way out, but she was standing in the way. She came close to his face. As if she is inviting him to kiss her. But he  tely did not encourage her and said in a strange voice:

-          “Alesha! What are you doing?”  The elevator door opened, and John and Alisha left out to the apartment. Alesha was following John pulling his case. He quickly put the key in the door, John was terribly afraid someone might see the young lady with me. Everybody knows about his story with his wife, who through herself from the balcony two years back. In few moments both  were in the apartment.

-          “So! Here you live alone! Right!

-          “Yes! I do!” John said!

-           “Good! Because I know that you live alone!”

-          “So what! What exactly you have in mind, what do you  want from me Alesha?”

-          “Well, give me something to drink first, I am your guest now!”  She sat on the couch, and waited, John entered the kitchen to bring something cold for her. She followed him to the kitchen, and said:

-          “why are you wasting time. You know, I love you! I want you! I don’t care how old are you! I am happy to be with you! Aren’t you happy to be with me, John?”

-          “Yes I am, but I am your teacher, not your friend!”

-           “But I love you! What shall I do.”

-          “Alesha! You have crossed the red lines, Alisha! You have to leave immediately.”

-          “I am not leaving this room, I am planning to stay here all night!”

-          “What about your folks, your parents?”

-          They know that I am sleeping tonight with my girl-friend.”

-          “But you are not! So you lied to your parents.”

-          “Don’t say parents, my dad married another woman, and he rarely come to see my mom.” And my mom is busy with her boyfriend. Don’t worry about me!” I told my mother that I will spent the night studying, I mean … studying with you!” while she was shaking her head right and left, laughing.  And whispered in her lovely tempting voice, let’s do it, John, right now!”  

Hasan Yahya, is an American Arab scholar, a professor of Sociology, a columnist at wfol.tv, Malaysia, and TINA International News Agency, Chicago, USA. www.hasanyahya.com


- hasan yahya

Sports provide a great backdrop for stories.  It seems that today almost everyone follows a sport team, whether it be football, baseball, basketball, hockey, soccer or others.  We all have our favorite teams and players.  But other sports can make great setting for short stories.  Sports short stories that center on horse racing and the race track are exciting and exhilarating.

A collection of stories by D.S. Williamson entitled “and they’re off!:  Stories From The Racetrack”, centers on the lives of three different sets of characters with the racetrack as backdrop.  The format works well, giving the reader the opportunity to read a few different stories with a common theme.

The collection is about the struggles of life and overcoming adversity.  It deals with what we all have had to deal with in one way of another.  With great dialogue and well developed characters, each story delves into the mind of the reader.  The beauty of the short stories is that you can complete it in a very short period of time.  There are no chapters to keep up with or get lost in.  The stories hook you at the beginning, climax in the middle and conclude, sometimes with a shocking ending.

Sports short stories are popular in that they take the excitement of a sport and add a human element to it.  In any setting, there is life going on around it.  The game must still be played, the race must still go on.  Whatever trials and tribulations are being played out there is another force going on at the same time.

These short stories tie in man and beast and how the two may be different but are so much the same.  How animals can help us deal with our lives is amazing and interesting.  Horse racing is a sport of courage, perseverance and consistency.  It contains a lot of the elements that we deal with in every day life.

D.S. Williamson ties it all together in a fine collection of stories that are easy to read and interesting.  The stories take us on a journey and teach us that anything is possible, that nothing is that bad and even if it is, we have the strength and courage to deal with it.

Seven short stories that show how little control we really have over our own fate.  Readers embrace the stories and relate it to their own lives and struggles they may face.  Each story has its own meaning and ending, that is not always a happy ending, just as in life.


- Peter Lackey

When Lanre Animashaun’s wife delivered Nigeria’s first Octuplets at Lagos Island Maternity, he thought he was dreaming. In a daze, he heard the voice of doctors and nurses congratulate him on making history by fathering eight babies at a go!

“You are so lucky, Mr Animashaun.they are very beautiful babies”, a tall doctor with warm eyes enthused

“..and very healthy too”, another with thick glasses chipped in

“Congratulation, your new name should be Okunrinmeta…the man with the strength and verve of three agile men!!,”a short nursing sister who has short jerry curls joked, still basking in the euphoria of achieving this medical feat on African soil.

Even in his confused state,Lanre knew he ought thank the medical ingenuities who saved his wife’s life like any responsible man should. So he opened his mouth but was surprised at the sound of deep croaking laughter that came of there:

“Hehehehheeeheeehehahahhahaahhahahaahaha!!!”.The laughing voice rang out clear and loud startling the medical team who stared at him amazed as he continued laughing hard till fat drops of tears splatter down his laughing cheeks. Nearby, a cleaner who was dusting an empty leather chair by the window stopped his work and smiled as he commented”..Eeya..De man happy no be small…”.One disapproving stare from the medical director stopped him from saying more and he quickly resumed dusting. The medical team continued watching the young man who is now holding his stomach as he laughed on. When a virile young man like this suddenly retort to hearty laughter in the face of serious issues, then all is not well. Several decades in the medical field have taught each one of them that.Each mused if the young father was suffering from schrophrenia or some sorts of brain disorder.Feeling the startled eyes of the medical team,Lanre Animashaun ordered his stubborn mind to stop laughing or can a man be laughing when his heart is totally confused?.Yet his determined mind refused his summon as it ordered his mouth and throat to laugh out at the work of the supernatural who gives a poor “London tailor “like him octuplets while rich couples with million in bank accounts cry for just a child!.Can’t the angels see that he patched cheap clothes for a living?…That his wife, Abike is a petty tomato seller in Oshodi? He commenced another round of laughter but the medical ingenuities have had enough. The tall doctor with warm eyes went up to him and shook him hard

“Are you alright Mr Animashaun?”, he asked concerned

Another round of laughter met his enquiry but the now irritated doctor shook him harder. The laughter subsided gradually and now drained; Lanre slumped into an empty chair, staring pensively into space. After few moments passed, he raised tired eyed feeling really ashamed before speaking:

“I have to go home to pick up some baby clothes and also inform our relatives..I will be back very soon”

Relieved that the young man had finally said something sensible, they allowed him take his leave, watching his slumped back as he walked out of the maternity before they went back to their offices, still very baffled.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

As Lanre rode on the okada motor bike to his one room apartment in Ejiwunmi Street,Mushin from Lagos Island Maternity, temptation whispered to him in the breeze slapping his face and like the Nazarene, he rebuked the tempting voice of sin..

When he entered his sparse dingy room, the voice became bolder and clearer. Shaking his head to clear it,Lanre began to pack the cheap clothes he had made for the baby…who would have known there were eight babies in Abike’s womb!.A sharp knock broke the silence and Adamu, his childhood friend entered without invitation. A tall lanky man with a loud voice, Adamu is a” London tailor “like himself .They usually walked together on the streets of Lagos sourcing for customers who would patch cheap clothes for few amounts of money.Today,Adamu spoke with an unusual slurred voice:

“I hear wetin happen”

“Na so we see am o”,Lanre replied pensively

“We tin we go do now”, whispering now

“I no know o..i don die o,dis na slow poison!!”,Lanre sobbed softly

“I pity you ,my friend..How u go fit feed dem?..Ha! wahala don come o”,Adamu joined his friend weeping over looming poverty they could almost touch with their fingers..How would he pay the school fees and feed nine stomach with his petty tailoring business?.After the weeping subsided, the two friends stared pensively for a long time before Lanre heard temptation speaking clearly again. This time, temptation was Adamu’s unusually soft voice:

“I think you should run away till things settle down”, seriously

“What!!!”, he exclaimed feigning surprise

“Yes, run to my hometown in Kaduna. I won’t tell anyone I saw you..My uncle ,Salisu will help you hide”

He brought out folds of naira notes before continuing “this is all i have now with me, go now before you die in poverty”

By now,lanre had stopped feigning surprise.Adamu is his best friend and could read his mind like a book.Quickly,he packed his few clothes into a black polythene bag, avoiding Adamu’s eyes as he took the folded notes including the “No 17,Sabon Gari Market” address Adamu wrote on a slim paper before he ran out heading for the Motor park in Jibowo.He hope he could still catch the Kaduna bound ABC bus before the whole world knows of the “history” the dumb doctors said he just made..!

(C)Oregbemi Olayinka

 

 


- Oregbemi Olayinka Modupe