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Showing posts from September, 2013

AS ACHEBE GOES HOME. by Chijioke Ngobili

Again, I repeat, Chinua Achebe hasn’t started; he’s yet to, and that’s why I want to take him on before he does!

Hello ‘Chi’ m bu Achebe? I come to you, my god. I now stare at you lifeless. I’m benumbed with fear, but I want to stand before you and talk to you now without fear. Please, don’t scare me; don’t scare us – who have come to seek thee in your great wisdom and knowledge. Please!
Don’t tell me you never knew the ‘hour’ when you – the ‘son of man’ – will turn to be the ‘man of the sun’. While it was still dark in that hospital, on that bed, with Christie, your wife beside you, on that very 21st night of March, 2013, you knew IT – and you can’t deny IT! You only wrote about it 55 years ago; hiding it away somewhere in the 85th page of your signatorial THINGS FALL APART.
And you said IT most solemnly:
“The land of the living was not far from the domain of the ancestors. There was coming and going between them, especially at festivals when an old man died, because an old man was very …

SHORT-PUT (A pinch of Lagos life by Uwakwe Ngozi Eke)

Back in my University days in Uturu, when shopping for items to take back to campus for another semester, I would buy a pack or two of black nylon bags. I, like every other student on campus would use the nylon bags for shot-putting. We would wake up before dawn and line our buttocks at the backyard in the shadows of our hostel walls. Stooping over the opened nylon bags, we would expel trash our bodies did not need. It was better, even soothing to do shot-put and fling the heavy nylon bags onto the mounting heaps of nylon with faeces inside like poorly wrapped moi-moi. It was better than covering our buttocks over the very few heat-emanating water systems in the hostels that always had millions of maggots floating on top the sometimes crusted, sometimes watery excreta deposited in turns by those who did not mind. Shot-putting was one of the Campus rituals I was initiated into on campus by instincts. Visiting my village also during the Christma…