Precious Emmanuel

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Precious Oluwatobi Emmanuel is a 500 Level Law Student of the University of Ilorin. He was born on 15th January, 2000. His story ‘Trapped’ was longlisted for the Okadabooks/Union Bank Campus Challenge, and one of his short stories have been published in his university’s anthology. He enjoys reading novels of all kinds, and watching cheesy comedy shows. He writes from Abuja, where he lives with his Dad, and Kano, where he lives with his Mom.

Reactions

Deji stared at his phone, respect and hints of envy shining in his eyes. He was staring at a Facebook post made by one of his university coursemates. “125 reactions in 30 minutes,” he muttered. When he and the coursemate were in the university they both planned to write – novels, poems, short stories, everything else. Deji was a mentor of sorts to the coursemate, who was two years younger. Four years after graduation, Deji was unemployed. He had written poems, stories and so on, and everything he wrote, he shared online and sent out to literary magazines. They always rejected his applications, the replies to his mails always including “We regret to inform you…”. Online, he would post a story he thought was amazing, and he would get two likes, three. Meanwhile, that his coursemate who had looked at him with childish awe in the university and gushed over any…

A Flame Goes Out

A FLAME GOES OUT – A story by Precious Emmanuel The father peers at the sheet of paper in disbelief. On it is written, in his son’s chaotic scrawl, the words “I stare down into the abyss. Satan welcomes me with open arms. I walk into his wide embrace. Where has God been all this while?” As he reads the verse over and over again, the words bouncing around in his skull like a table tennis ball, the disbelief changes very swiftly into anger. He stomps to his room and selects a thick, black, sturdy leather belt. Small, decorative metal balls are embedded in the leather. Demola would see. That boy would see. Writing this kind of rubbish in his house. An SS2 boy. He would see today. Whatever was making him do nonsense like this would jump out today. “Demola!” No answer. This boy. He had always been stubborn,…

Leaving

The day Dad left, I was in school. There was a quiz competition and I was representing my school. I was in Primary 5. Buses belonging to the competing schools were parked in the school car park, emblazoned with names like Apex Comprehensive School, Fountain of Knowledge Comprehensive Nursery and Primary School, Excellence Nursery and Primary School… names like that. At the final stage, it was me and one other child. I can no longer remember if it was a girl or boy. I just know that the child had on huge glasses and looked like a genius. We had gone ten rounds, and facts and trivia I had learned for the quiz was almost exhausted. I was almost shivering in trepidation. Not this child though. This child still had a confident, almost smug grin on its face. Until the child got a question wrong. The grin was replaced with…

IN THE END, EVERYONE GETS ON WITH THEIR LIVES

Sally, here!I’m introducing Precious Oluwatobi Emmanuel, who would be contributing occasionally here. Here’s his first short piece. Please, leave some feedback in the comment section. Thank you! The four girls at the back of the taxi are in a swell mood. They laugh and joke, and talk about the Valentine’s party they are just returning from. The taxi driver is silent, his mouth set in a tight line. His eyes occasionally flit disapprovingly to the girls in the rear view mirror. He will gossip to his wife when he returns home of four young girls he picked up who had on too much make-up and were returning from a party looking wasted and talking about boys, and he and his wife will shake their heads and cluck and tsk-tsk self-righteously at ‘shidren of nowadays’, mouths curled downwards judgementally. The taxi’s speed reduces from its brisk cruise to a slow glide.…

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