child abuse

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This Thing Called Love #1

Hi fam! Here’s a new one from Ikenna Igwe. Please read and drop your thoughts. It runs for the entire week! BEFORE I BEGIN my story I’d like to say a few words about love. Yes, it’s a beautiful thing. And yes, being in love with someone who genuinely reciprocates it is nothing short of divine. So, when you do find true love, hold it dearly, nurture it carefully, and, more importantly, treat it with the respect it deserves. It’s true that love hurts. But let’s not forget…it also heals. Here is my story… I was reliable informed, by my parents, that I exited into our planet on a rainy Monday night, in the month of July, in the late 70’s. My mother had just finished eating dinner, and was about to drink a glass of water, when she felt some contractions in her womb. Yes, that was me, poking…

Girls #2

Read episode one of Olajumoke Omisore’s Girls “Did Tony hurt you?” Her uncle asked. His voice faltered as he said hurt.    Tony was waiting outside. Her uncle had asked him to wait outside after those incriminating words came out of her mouth.       “Pastor… Daddy.” Tony’s eyes were on her uncle but after she said what she said, he had glared at her as if she was someone else. Someone dangerous. “Get out,” her uncle had growled. “Right now, Anthony.” At that moment, she knew he would throw Tony out if he had to. If Tony didn’t run out. His tone, bearing and clenched fists took her to the evening when her eloquent uncle gabbled on like someone who didn’t know how to form sentences. Like someone whose brain had suddenly decided to stop working. Several years ago, it happened. He stammered. Swore to kill Uncle Kola with the wood…

Boys With Toys #6

Sorry, this is coming late. The email notifications will be delayed as well. Hope you enjoy reading it. For those of you who have contacted Audrey Timms and the email bounced back, try dianaokhah@yahoo.com The boardroom was alive with voices raised in intense argument. The topic was over the type of models to use for G&M’s first fashion show in Nigeria and Bankole noticed that the person who ignited the debate was not participating in it. Guru was busy with two junior designers in a corner, their chairs surrounding a small coffee table. Banky wasn’t contributing to the noise as well. He watched in indifference. His colleagues were an interesting lot, comprising of all types of people—the fashionable, the very fashionable, the gay, the straight, the superficial, the talented, the business-minded, the troublemakers, the troubleshooters and the lazy. When he was tired of trying to read each person, he faced…

Only A Flame #ChildNotBride

I sat crouched at a corner of the room… With my arms circled around my folded knees. Another stream of tears rolled effortlessly down my cheeks as I relived the experience. I could still feel his fingers like the gentle slithery movements of a snake as he caressed my body. I closed my eyes….If only I could shut out the images… But No…. They were there… Refusing to leave…They came with such vivid clarity! Images of flailing arms … Fighting to keep away the evil that loomed above me. I remembered trying to scream… But I couldn’t hear the sound of my own voice. Randomly the images came, in no defined order. I recalled a struggle to retain my underwear as groping hands determined to take them off… The sound of a dress being torn… Then I remembered the slap! Like a thunderbolt, the impact had gone through my whole…

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