Ebube Anochili's blog

      Photo From Google: Somewhere in Lagos The air was dry and filled with dust. Thanks to the harmattan that refused to stay in its desert or wherever the hell it came from. I was tired of its back and forth treatment to us the inhabitants of Nigeria. It was bad enough that the economy wasn’t promising, did we have to suffer weather issues too? I sneezed as something foreign found access to my airways through my nostrils. Of course, the air was also filled with cigarette and weed fumes. This stench was common in bus parks. Peering out the window of the yellow danfo bus I occupied (which might have been a mistake) because I sneezed again, I searched for someone selling sachet water. Or cold minerals. Just something to alleviate the dryness in my parched throat. I spotted a woman carrying a bowl of cold drinks and called her to me. “Pure water!” “ Madam no pure water, na bottle water dey,” the hawker explained, taking down the bowl on her head to my level. I pick...

  Photo: from Google “God will judge the adulterer and the sexually immoral… you whore and murderer. You will suffer.” “The wages of sin is death… and you shall die a horrible death. In this life and in the next.” “It will be more tolerable for the land of Sodom and Gomorrah on the day of judgement than for you… your judgement is here. You shall burn in the everlasting flames.” Chibusonma tossed in her sleep as the words, which felt like flaming coals, were thrown at her. She couldn’t see the face of the person accusing her, but she felt the pain and the punishment. And she definitely knew who accused her. She was in a courtroom, filled with flickering lights. She stood in the accused stand as a faceless judge passed judgment on her. She didn’t flinch because she felt she deserved the punishment. Of course the wages of sin is death. She would burn in hell for all her atrocities. Even though her subconscious had accepted that she was guilty and she deserved whatever verdict ...

                       🎂🥂🍾🎉🎈🎊 Hello my dearest readers. How are you doing? I hope you’re doing good. And if you’re not so good, I hope you get better soon. It’s been a while here. Anyway, taking a page from a friend of mine's book (of writing daily events), I decided to try it out. Again.  It’s been a while I narrated my day with ink. Here goes. So, my best girl's (Vee’s) birthday was on the 1st of July, a Thursday. I was excited for her cos she’s a darling. Anyway, she tells me she has a birthday dinner at Lekki and I don’t have a choice, I must come. Haa, I thought about it for days cos she definitely didn’t tell me on the birthday. I thought about the transport fare as SAPA is seriously holding me. It was the end of the month, salary never show. I thought about the time I’d get there. I work on the mainland and close at 5.   Lekki is on the island.  For the benefit of those not staying in Lagos, we ...

  Andrea loved heights, unlike most people she knew. It didn’t matter how high up she was. She felt like she was floating with the clouds. Those fluffy beautiful creatures that looked like cotton balls on the surface of a very large ocean. She felt like she was gliding alongside them. It didn’t matter if it was sunny and the clouds were white. It didn’t matter if it those clouds opened up their bellies and emptied gallons of water on the face of the Earth. She loved the sky. She worked as an accountant in one of the top auditing firms in the country. One would think that her job didn’t leave room for her pleasures of the sky, but it did. She worked in the head office, which was a skyscraper. Well, what anyone could take as a skyscraper in Nigeria. Anyway, going up in the elevator, the view was always marvelous, because of the open glass setting of the elevator. She nursed a fantasy of skydiving some day. Definitely not in Nigeria. Andrea loved heights, which meant she loved roof to...