RESULTS OF THE CECILIA UNAEGBU PRIZE FOR TRUE FLASH STORY (192 USD)

We are grateful for all the entrants to this competition. Entries were received from three countries, Nigeria, South Africa and Ghana in this inaugural edition of the prize. Entries were judged blind, with the final selection of the short-list made by Unoma Azuah, the competition judge, whose letter follows the list of winners. Winning entries will feature each for a week in the next thirteen weeks in this blog and elsewhere. We look forward to the next competition!

LIST OF WINNERS:

First Prize (15, 000 Naira or 96 USD): Chioma Iwunze (Enugu, Nigeria) for Search for my Father.  

Second Prize (10, 000 Naira or 64 USD): Desiree Eniola Craig (Lagos, Nigeria) for A Year in Paradise.

Third Prize (5, 000 Naira or 32 USD): Yeku Babatude James (Ibadan, Nigeria) for Mama.

The winners will also receive a copy of the book (WOMAN OF VIRTUE BOOK OF FAME, Containing FAR ABOVE RUBIES: The Biography of Mrs. Cecilia Unaegbu, biographies of extraordinary women, five stories from guest authors and a collection of all submitted Cecilia Unaegbu Prize stories) due out by December.

The consolation Prizes (Which is the published book) due out by December go to:

Essien, Enobong Queen (Lagos, Nigeria)

Prosper Obum Anuforoh (Lagos, Nigeria)

Nnaji  Chukwudi (Edo, Nigeria)

Karen Jennings (Cape Town, South Africa)

Augustine Ogwo (Lagos, Nigeria)

Annette Najjemba (Hoima, Uganda)

Akinde Hafiz Akinyemi (Kwara, Nigeria)

Muhammed Abdullahi Tosin (Lagos, Nigeria)

Oluwakemi  Osoko (Lagos, Nigeria)

Attah Damian Uzochukwu Victor (Nsukka, Nigeria)

 

A comment from the competition judge, Unoma Azuah, 

 "A good number of the stories lack the basic structure and content that a Flash story should have. It would have been helpful for the entrants to have researched the basic forms/features of Flash stories. Beyond the fact that the number of words are limited, there is also a need in this type of genre to apply a sense of urgency. For example,
the first person point of view, which is "I" gives a better sense of urgency compared to the use of a third person point of view, which is "She/He or They." Additionally, some entries are essays rather than stories. There are as well issues of grammar and poor sentence structure. Further, some of the stories drift towards "moralizing." Instead of letting the story tell itself, some writers use this as a tool of propaganda or as a judgmental weapon. In my opinion, when one writes a flash fiction, it is best to avoid employing the "intrusive voice," because the idea is for one to present the story the way it is witnessed. In all, the good stories are very good and the poorly written ones do not entirely lack merit. They either have good themes or good openings. The wide disparity between the very good stories and the poorly written ones is, perhaps, a reflection of the wide pool of entrants this contest attracted, which is perfect. The other thing the Cecilia Unegbu Prize may consider is to conduct workshops on Flash stories, or even Fiction to enable aspiring writers arm themselves with the basic mechanism of writing any of these genres. Some of the submitted stories indicate that a good number of entrants have no clue as to what is required in a Flash story. This process/event in itself is a wonderful development in Nigerian Literature because it will nudge the amateur writer to the right place, while guiding and encouraging raw talent to be horned.

Well done!
Unoma
www.unomaazuah.com"

As an undergraduate at Nsukka, Unoma edited the English department literary journal —The Muse and received the awards of the best Creative Writing student for two consecutive years: 1992 and 1993. Her other awards include the Hellman/Hammett Human Rights grant for her writings on women’s issues (1998), and the Leonard Trawick Creative Writing Award (2000), the Urban Spectrum award, the Leonard Trawick award and the Association of Nigerian Authors/NDDC Flora Nwapa award for her debut novel Sky-high Flames. She also has a collection of short stories, The Length of Light and a book of poetry, Night Songs. Prof. Unoma Azuah also holds an MFA in Poetry and Fiction from the Virginia Commonwealth University. She currently teaches Composition and Creative Writing at Lane College, Jackson, Tennessee, USA.

As this year's judge, she has automatically won the WOMAN OF VIRTUE 2011 award from the Cecilia Unaegbu Prize Project powered by Revolutionary Images and Biographical Link.

The stories will be posted each every week for the next 13 weeks in this blog.

"WE CAN BE THE GREATEST COUNTRY"_ Odili Ujubuoñu says in this interview

 

ABOUT THE INTERVIEWEE:

Odili Ujubuoñu was born in Ukpor, Anambra State Nigeria. He has a degree in Political Science and an M.A in History from the University of Nigeria, Nsukka and University of Lagos. Odili has been referred to in several quarters as one of the few heirs of the Achebean tradition. He is the author of Pregnancy of the Gods, (2006) ANA/Jacaranda Prize Winner for 2006 and Treasure in the Winds (2008) ANA/Chevron Prize Winner for 2008. The book was also a nominee of the Nigerian Prize for Literature same year . Odili has worked in the business of Advertising as a copy writer for over twenty years.  He lives in Lagos with his wife, Chinelo and Children.

 

JEFF UNAEGBU

You are very welcome, Sir Odili Ujubuoñu. I feel that I am face to face with another Achebe. Yes, the novel, Pride of the Spider Clan, posseses a very rich and pulsating African culture. This is a very important and admirable feat as the novel is likely to be a beacon for present and future research into Igbo culture. In this respect, the following fulcra stand out: The detailing of local politics [ pg 17, line 4, 5], the descriptive aura of an Mmonwu initiation ceremony [pg 177], the narrative power in an isi-ani funeral rites [pg. 364], the inheritance of the ancestral obi nad ofo [pg 16], the use of utilitarian Igbo proverbs [pg 107, line 26], Circumcision [pg. 54, line 23]etc. All these leave one to wonder if the author (a modern writer by any standard) had any direct African indigenous experiences in this ultra-modern times, especially because his times contrast sharply with the period he was writing about [just after the arrival of the albinos in a houseboat as predicted by the long Juju, Ibinukpabi, pg 305, line 1-4)? For though, I am aware you researched the Aro and Okirika culture and the Nsibidi ancient writings of the Ekpe cult as is fairly indicated in your acknowledgements, I intuitively feel that there is something deeper and emotional coming from your direct personal experiences other than from a scholarly research for a novel in the Pride of the Spider Clan. I hope I am not being overly sensitive?

ODILI UJUBUOÑU

Without trying to sound mysterious, I am a conscript of the Muse. I had some encounters which I mentioned in my acknowledgements in ‘Treasure in the Winds.’ I had a dream where an old woman appeared to me at the bank of Niger River introducing herself as Nzammili the goddess of stories. I also encountered two scarified midgets who prepared me for some inner workings in the Ozo initiations. All happened in my dreams and at different stages of writing the books ‘Pregnancy of the Gods,’ ‘Treasure in the Winds’ and ‘Pride of the Spider Clan.’ Who knows maybe I am a reincarnate of my family’s old souls. Having said that I must confess that I come from an old family in Igboland where the obi tradition is very strong. We kept so much of our family history in lore that is handed over from generation to generation. We still name our children by the market days they were born. Mine is Nwokafor and my children all have theirs and can tell you without any hesitance, should you ask. My great grandfather had a bitter encounter with the Colonial government which made them resist Christianity for a very long time. We became Christians much later than 60 years ago so there were a lot of the vestiges of the old order until late eighties when the old traditional men began to give way. I think some of these stories and more informed the writing.

JU

I am right! Now, in the past, as I am told, Igbo children are not allowed to observe a funeral ceremony. They are huddled indoors until after the moment of internment. Now, while at Umuele, an eight year old Isikamdi participated in a mock funeral ceremony during play with other children and it was “so befitting… that it drew the attention of adults in the family [pg 128, line 17, 19], how did they become aware of the proceedings?

OU

In my family they observed. What was shielded from them was the inner ceremonies that took place before a burial is done. It is usually passworded and never allowed women and children. You will see just a bit of it in the burial of the Isi-ani. That is a standard burial ceremony of the old traditional men in my family and I witnessed them on two or three occasions in the early eighties. The full ceremony cannot be written in a novel. It would look too anthropological that it  may weaken the pace and texture of the story.

JU

Why was there no protective encounter between Agubata of Mbaozo, the old former head of the Spider group, and Odidika, the future Flute bearer? Was Agubata, the mystic, not powerful enough to foresee that the boy, Odidika, in his son’s custody would have a lot to do with the all-important sacred flute in future, seeing also that a daredevil Ikebuasi was living next door, and more so when his close friend and successor, Fiberesima, knew too much [Fiberesima had searched Odidika’s possessions for a flute while the young was asleep pg. 147, he learnt that … through (Obidi) the flute bearer will appear pg. 190]? If he foresaw this, why was he the way he is: a secretive and mysterious person who asked his own son, Mbandu, to go see a diviner, Udeagbala, in order to fortify his compound [Pg 41, line 22] instead of just protecting his son with his far more superior powers?

OU

Agubata’s family migrated to Mbaozo and later to Mbaosu for a particular purpose – to restore the pride. Agubata is a man of immense powers but he is a human who worships a god that can keep secrets from him, if it is not meant for him. Agubata  has some powers but not all powers. He needs a diviner to tell him some things because he is equally not all knowing. Remember, he is possessed by task of finding the flute and all his life in ‘Treasure in the Winds’ and ‘Pride of the Spider Clan’ is geared towards that. A careful reading would reveal to you that it is not focused on finding the future bearer of the flute or builder of the dream Clan. This is in better details in ‘Treasure in the Winds. ’ Agubata towards the end of his life reveals his suspicions regarding Odidika’s involvement to Mbandu. It was also when he reveal their own well kept family secret to Mbandu. That was when he did what all the sages did when recruiting their sons into the Spider Clan. About Fiberesima and Agubata; there is nothing Fiberesima knows that Agubata does not know because they are very close both on physical and spiritual planes. Above all, their roles are well structured and their territories marked clearly in the Spider Clan.

JU

You sure know your onions well. Ok, with the amazing detective and secretive spider network of the Aro men and a handy literary Nsibidi and a very powerful centripetal force, the Ibinukpabi and its far-reaching Chief Priest and Eze Aro, necessary historical ingredients for an empire, it is a wonder that an Igbo empire, as great, famous and literate as the Mali or Ghana, never arose from these ready factors. Was the failure to build an empire the result of a lost historical treasure as symbolized by the flute in your novel? And aha—is the sacred ofo flute in your novel trying to fill the gap of why there was no great historical Igbo empire, greater than Idu N’Oba? What is your take on this?

OU

Don’t be deceived, Jeff. When you tell your stories well the world would agree that you had an empire. Go and look at the Ife Bronze and look at the Ichi on any Igbo man’s face and you will see the resemblance. Yet there is no Yoruba man who has that kind of scarification. My father was scarified. All the first sons of my family use to bear those marks until Christianity stopped it. There is so much to show about the kind of civilization the Olu N’Igbo had but that would be for another day.

Civilizations that were not monarchical have always looked at the grandeur of monarchy with admiration. That was the case of the relationship between the Eastern city states and the Idu N’Oba kingdom. Eze Aro was not a monarch but a priest and king. So was Eze Nri. They influenced series of city-states not with arms or force but persuasion about the need to serve two gods. The one who is the greatest of all terrestrial gods - Ani, and the greatest of all gods chi-ukwu a.k.a Ibinukpabi (ebu na ukpa abia) carried in a long basket. The later god has no name but a description because his name could not be uttered by any man. The cousins of the Aro, Efik call it Udang Usang (carried in a basin). The discussion on the relationship between Eze Nri and Eze Aro is not the subject of your question but would be the one to lead you into understanding the kind of Civilization which controlled trade, industry and mining in the whole of South-Eastern Nigeria of old.  

JU

We are sure listening! Right on point. Ok, Okafọ Ekwe told Isikamdi that if he did not find the ofo flute after combing Olu N’Igbo, he should head straight to Kirike where Fiberesima, their Spider leader and an Izon of Aro ancestry, was [and that “if this very man fails to help you, then Ibinukpabi has, for the very first time, lied,” “That can’t be possible.” Pg 307, line 21]. Naturally, a man smarter than Isikamdi would have avoided the rigmarole of combing his country and just headed straight to Kirike, if to save time and return home to his already tensile family with a flute that would remove the old curse of loss of male children, especially then that Ijenna his wife and Odidika’s daughter was pregnant. Is it to reveal other very important bits of information to fill out the main and sub plots that Isikamdi’s peregrination was essential or your admirable wizardry in creating suspense that was at work?

OU

You did read Pride of the Spider Clan and have an understanding of it. No. The author was more interested in the spiritual part of Isikamdi’s journey. Isikamdi needed to walk the paths the flute had walked in order to purge himself of the old order. It is a kind of ritual which he needed to perform in order to qualify himself for the role of finding the flute. If you read beyond the lines, you will notice that he discovered some things in those seemingly useless trips to Obosi. Remember, the marks on the door and the headdress for the Kalabari masquerade called Otobo. These were not just fill-ins but pointers to help the reader deconstruct the book.

JU

This is very revealing. Thank you. Now, how did Eze Kambite know Odidika was in danger and then came along and how did he kill the man at death hill, saving Odidika?  

OU

We only inferred that he saved him. We did not tell you so, you rather concluded that he did.

JU

Hahaha! Oh yeah, the net was spread for my mind to be trapped. Ok…. How did the real flute in the ceiling of “an ignorant man’s kitchen” as revealed “in one of their (spider) meetings” in page 191 turned out to be a fake towards the end of the novel after Isikamdi went to Adiabuabili’s old kitchen, retrieved it from where Adiabuabili had kept it inside the ceiling [pg 396] and brought it home (another fake flute, possibly the one Ekediukwu snatched during the night raid, also appeared at Piriye’s doorstep)?

OU

This is the problem of Pride of the Spider Clan. It cannot as a single book tell the story of the three books. In ‘Treasure in the winds,’ two duplicates of the flute were made by Ukwuoma the Obosi carver’s servant before he died. He gave the original flute and a duplicate bearing the Nsibidi mark to show that it was not the original (this was the house rule of all carvers that were in the Spider Clan) to Ozodimma the flutist. Ozodi swapped the original with the fake and gave it to Adamma. She took the fake home. It ended in her family kitchen ceiling. The original was lost by Ozodimma at the Battle of the Great river to Odidika and his men. There was a third flute (There was no Nsibidi sign on this) which is the second duplicate. Ukwuoma had kept it for himself. It was this flute that Ubadimbudi  found and took to Eze Aro. It was later transferred to Fiberesima to use in identifying the original flute whenever it entered Kirike (Okirika). Fiberesima had that flute all the while. He still kept it even when he found the original. It was this unmarked duplicate that Piriye found at her doorstep.  Ekediukwu’s flute was not a copy of the original. It was a different flute altogether.

JU

Hmmm. That clears my head. Now, why is it that the head of the Aro Spider group, Fiberesima, kept the secret of his possession of the real flute from other Aro spider members (especially Ekediukwu and Ekwe), [Ezediukwu said this: the day Odidika was leaving Kirike, an eerie sound of a flute filled the air pg. 348, line 31 meaning that Fiberesima blew the real magical flute to guide Odidika out of Kirike. Also, Ekwe said this: There is also Ezediukwu…. He is as deep in the cause of finding the lost sacred flute as I am and as you are pg. 306/307]. Why this extreme secrecy on the part of Fiberesima which made the Nwa Aro’s quest an adventure and made Ekwe and other members of the arcane group not able to touch the flute before they died?

OU

Fiberesima kept the flute because the Priest at the Ibinukpabi shrine, as part of his injunctions, said that Fiberesima must not leave Okirika (Kirike) the moment he finds the flute. He said that he must wait for Nwa Aro who would discover him and the flute. Using and touching the flute was not what ‘the legs of the spider clan’ were interested in. They want the Pride to be built. There primary role is to find the flute so that when Nwa Aro comes they would be the ones to hand over the flute to him. Everyone had a station and territory which he guarded so that the flute would not fall into the wrong hands. Nwa Aro must come and discover it. Like I said earlier, Nwa Aro has to perform his own role. So Fiberesima was doing all he could to get the flute across to the one who mattered the most – Nwa Aro and not to his colleagues.

JU

Very insightful…. Now, Odidika knows that if he hands over the flute to Isikamdi, he as the current isi-ani of the Osondu isi-ani lineage would have handed over power to the rightful royal family of Mbaozo, Ezechukwu’s family, and the family will now build an even greater kingdom after the albino ritual is completed (another novel?). Yet Odidika will do so in consonance with the oracle’s prediction because Ibinukpabi never lies and because he loves Ijenna his daughter and wouldn’t want the curse on Ezechukwu’s family to continue. This is a lesson for African rulers who cling to power at all costs, the Ochendos of this world. In Nigeria, the situation is different and what you said in my facebook wall is admirable: “For over 50 years we have been groping in the dark searching for - the light - the secret code to realizing the seemingly elusive 'Pride of the Spider Clan.”

Now what do you recommend for us to do to find the sacred flute of progress in Nigeria and also to instill in us the spirit of the Odidika  altruism?

OU

The solution to our national tragedy is not found in Odidika but in Isikamdi. He was the one who knew he had a problem. His family was born great but missed it somewhere. He needs to forget his selfish interest, his mother’s (ethnic group) stories about his uncle and turn towards solving the problem. His sacrifice should not be just for him and his immediate family but to shed the self in the interest of the whole. Eze Kambite’s words of wisdom should continue to help us as a nation to build a strong forte for greatness. He alluded to a wisdom that is like the wings of mother hen. Wings not fitted for flying to farther lands for gathering its brood together. On another occasion he reminded Isikamdi that that the cord that bound them together could not be severed. Yet when reconciling with his mother Kambite also told Isikamdi that in the forge of family unity we need an inexhaustible fuel of tolerance. We can be the greatest country, better than the developed worlds of today (Idu N’Oba) if we could shed the need to acquire for self rather than for all and commit our lives to building a country which generations unborn would be proud of. The flute is the breath, the energy and the spirit to conquer the elemental weight of our selfish desires. That is my understanding of Pride of the Spider Clan but I am sure some people could have better reading of the book.

JU

Pardon my ignorance, what is the meaning of planting an ogirisi tree over a grave [she begged me to find her grave and plant an ogirisi tree on it, but I was even too late to do her that justice pg 60, line 11]?

OU

The Ogirisi is an evergreen tree. You use the ogirisi to mark a grave. Most times it is to know where people were buried. Remember the Nze, who has spiritual title, and some kinds of Igbo priests would not cross a grave or they get despoiled.  Ogirisi is therefore necessary for them to know where to cross or not.

 On a much lighter, if funny, note:

JU: Who is the protagonist of this novel, Odidika or Isikamdi? Must a novel even have a protagonist?

OU: I would say it is Isikamdi because he is the one who does all the important things and takes all the important risks and makes all the mistakes. Odidika’s life was truly a selfish one and the book is all about group survival.

JU: Where did the word “tata” [for a baby] come from, is it an Igbo word?

OU: Tata is universal baby one. It is the first thing most babies say. You don’t need the teeth to say tata so babies are easily associated with the sounds they make.

JU: Wow, this is a first for me: Okpokodudu is the name for beans! Now, is Agwa a later or concurrent version?

OU: I actually forgot to credit the author of that story in the acknowledgements but  I will correct it in the next issue. It was actually translated from ‘Mbe di Ogu’ written by  F.C. Ogbalu.  Okpokodudu is a species of beans. It is a large species of beans. I think its proper name is cowpea. It is not the regular Agwa you are used to.

JU: Nyu tu! That is caricatured English for “You too”! Did Mbandu’s household know any English? Or is this only a mirror of the caricatured Igbo version?

OU: It is just a mirror of the caricature.

JU: Thank you Sir for this scintillating and invigorating interview with you. And aha, the eagle will be ahead of you and the eagle will be behind you….

OU: May you be provided with what to eat and be protected from what will eat you…

JU: Amen!

“TRY TO UNDERSTAND THE NEEDS OF CHILDREN” _ UCHE PETER UMEZ TELLS JEFF UNAEGBU IN THIS INTERVIEW

ABOUT UCHE PETER UMEZ:

Uchechukwu Peter Umezurike (or Uche Peter Umez) is a Nigerian author. Umez's first published work of poetry, Dark through the Delta, deals with the recurring despoliation of Nigeria using the Niger Delta as its motif. The poems in the collection earned Umez a highly commended review as a "poet distinguished not only by the easily demonstrable honesty of the compassion and social commitment he expresses, but also by the highly evocative powers of his language, his inventiveness and the compelling lyricism of his poetry. A graduate of Government & Public Administration from Abia State University, Umez is also the author of Tears in her Eyes (short stories) and Aridity of Feelings (poems). His children's novella, Sam and the Wallet, was the winner of the ANA/Funtime Prize for Children's Literature and the runner-up for the 2007 Nigeria LNG Prize for Literature. His unpublished children's novel, The Christmas Gift, won the 2008 ANA/Funtime Prize for Children's Literature. His collection of children’s short stories, Tim the Monkey and Other Stories, has been accepted for publication by African First Publishers. He is currently working on his first full-length novel.

For excerpts from his book, The Runaway Hero, click here:

http://www.outofnigeria.com/2011/04/23/out-of-nigeria-exclusive-runaway-hero-by-uche-umezurike/

JEFF UNAEGBU: Sir, you are a veteran of children’s literature, and the strings of awards, especially from the Association of Nigerian Authors, the Nigeria LNG Prize for Literature and the Spanish Embassy in Nigeria attest to this. More power to your elbows. How does it feel to write while assuming a child’s eye view? 

UCHE PETER UMEZ: It feels both exhilarating and demanding, demanding because you have to be very, very conscious about your diction. Exhilarating because it is fun in a way, and you are not too conscious about aesthetics and metaphor.  

JU: Very apt! Ok, in the book, The Runaway Hero, one senses instructive hidden messages that are distilled from the tough and resilient Nigerian adult world. These messages are passed to children in subtle forms. Messages such as harsh economy (“Big Mummy is broke”), ritual killings (“…the men had driven the children to a native doctor in some far-away village where they would be used to make wealth”), are passed down. These make the book unique and very real, unlike a fantasy-tale children’s fiction. Were they done on purpose (social-realism) or no? 

UP: No, I don’t think I really did those things on purpose. The truth is this: any time I set out to write I try as much as possible to sneak “political statements” into my writing, because I feel that politically Nigeria is in a deep mess and people should be re-awakened to this sad yet avoidable reality.

JU: Kachi runs away from the Nkem Orphanage for fear of Big Mummy’s punishments—which he was no stranger to— because of the unwitting cut he made on a bully’s knee with a penknife, does Big Mummy’s punishments reflect the tendencies in some parents to dish out punishments too quickly and naively without searching for the roots of a child’s seemingly evil action?

UP: Yes, it does reflect the tendencies in some parents. Take for instance the issue of child-witches that was all the rage in a part of our country at one time. Many adults who were involved in persecuting and branding the children as witches did not reason that some of those children’s errant behaviour might actually have stemmed from an unstable upbringing or home, or from an emotional craving or fear which translates into mischief or misbehavior. Most times when a child’s need is not met or satisfied, such a child may involve in anti-social activities. This is even so, because every child needs gratification.

 JU: At first, Kachi is not the thrash-all regular kind of hero (he “was used to being laughed at, put down, so [he] did not get much put out”). At the end of the book, he was in the spotlight. Does it follow then that there is always hope for molested children who dare to push beyond their immediate torture environment to escape into the real and equally dangerous world?  

UP: You know there’s a part in The Shawshank Redemption in which Tim Robbins tells Morgan Freeman that hope is a beautiful thing, and I think The Runaway Hero tries to offer hope to every child who feels “put down” either by their peers or society, that being bold and daring pays off in the long run.   

 JU: Ok. The Runaway Hero is an exciting and suspenseful tale, fit to be adapted into a movie or one-hour TV drama, are there plans underway for this, seeing that children also love to watch movies? 

UP: It would be great to adapt it to a movie. Perhaps, since you are the professional in that area, we could work on something in the not-too-distant tomorrow.  

 JU: That will be lovely! I look forward to that day. Now, Nnedi said to Kachi, “You don’t know how to speak to a lady”, does this mean that even children at age nine and ten already have a keen sense of the battle of the sexes, especially in this case where Nnedi talks too much and when she is made aware of this, she ignores the fact of her loquaciousness and expertly turns the guilt to the boy with the retort above?  

UP: I have a daughter who’s almost 4 and nephews and nieces between ages 7 and 12 and I am often stunned when I am in their midst, their words, their alertness and eloquence can quite bamboozle me pleasantly.  

JU: Children are sure growing faster in their brains these days! Now, Sir, what advice do you have for writers who hope to also write children’s literature? 

UP: Read as many children’s books as you can find, books from different continents, and of course observe children whenever you find yourself around them. Try and understand the needs of children, particularly the psychological needs such as need for affection, belonging, to achieve and be recognized, and need for independence.

 JU: Thank you Sir, for this exhilarating interview. I hope to chat with you again someday! 

UP: It’s my pleasure, and really, I look forward to reading more of your writing.

"Learn to Be Open to Criticisms" _ Jude Dibia advises in this interview with Jeff Unaegbu

ABOUT JUDE DIBIA:

Jude Dibia is the author of two well received novels; Walking with Shadows (2005) and Unbridled (2007). Dibia’s novels have been described as daring and controversial by readers and critics in and out of Africa. Walking with Shadows is said to be the first Nigerian novel that has a gay man as its central character and that treats his experience with great insight, inviting a positive response to his situation. Unbridled, too, stirred some controversy on its publication; a story that tackled the emancipation of its female protagonist who had suffered from incest and abuse from men. Unbridled was awarded the 2007 Ken Saro-Wiwa Prize for Prose (sponsored by NDDC/ANA) and was a finalist in the 2008 Nigeria Prize for Literature (sponsored by NLNG). Dibia’s short stories have been featured in the Caine Prize Anthology, One World: A global anthology of short stories and various online literary journals. Dibia was a recipient of a Commonwealth Highly Commended Award for his short story ‘Somewhere’ in 2010.

You can get excerpts from Blackbird here:

http://www.outofnigeria.com/2011/05/06/blackbird-by-jude-dibia-out-of-nigeria-exclusive/

JEFF UNAEGBU: The great writer, I am pleased to have you in this interview! A book that begins with a prologue which is full of suspenseful action can possibly not be ignored. Oh yes, your book, Blackbird takes a straight flight into the minds of readers through its first few sentences (Get into the house. she will be alone. Finish her!) and then, it builds a cage in there for itself and other books flying in from your pen! Little wonder that its predecessor, Unbridled, was a finalist in the 2008 NLNG Prize for literature. Congratulations. Now, your characters are very deep and well-formed and you are able to develop a psychological database of human behavioral patterns. Omoniyi, the chief protagonist, managed to retain a nice disposition (“his humility and good nature threw most who met him”), despite the gutter of poverty and evil he swam around in and even got dirtied with. Were his trials, then, a form of circumstantial punishment for being somewhat effeminate and even possessing “a dangerous beauty” in physical form? And why would he remain so strong in having a conscientious mindset, yet so weak in the face of lustful temptations? Does this reveal that a gentle and good natured person can actually do something very bad when circumstances propel him?

JUDE DIBIA: Many thanks, Jeff for your kind words regarding my writing. The opening lines of Blackbird were inspired by the opening lines of Toni Morrison’s Paradise, which started with these lines: ‘They shoot the white girl first. With the rest they take their time. No need to hurry out here.’ Three simple, yet well intended statements. It was my, intention to set the pace of the story with something akin to tension and at the same time slowly reveal the complexity of the moment, the visible differences between the wealthy and the desperate in our society and the fragile glass wall that separates the two sides. I am great admirer of Toni Morrison; ever since I read her Song of Solomon I have been in awe of her writing prowess. So in a way, I have learnt that a character’s psychological make-up and those unseen factors that trigger him or her into action are equally as important as the visible conflicts within a story. I am very interested in this aspect of human nature. Like Paradise, there are four main characters in Blackbird; this was why it was also important to begin the story with a prologue which had nothing and everything to do with all the chief characters, and not just Omoniyi. Omoniyi’s trials, as you put it, were unconnected to his ‘dangerous beauty’; he was just a man without money or influence like so many others and what he went through are things a lot of people go through every day. At the heart of everything, we are all faced with choices and sometimes, circumstances dictate how we react.

JU: Chimaya, or Maya for short, comes across as a good, wise and yet unassuming personality. Would we say that she manipulated the rich white Edward using her feminine powers, including a rich singing talent, even without trying, or should we take it that any wise woman in the same economically harsh circumstances would do the same or should do the same? Aha, I am aware that Maya had “never truly considered herself poor because, for her, wealth [is] measured by how much… love existed in one’s home”, so, was it her struggle to retain love in her family that made her allow Edward to help her, when he could? Can a woman’s love for her poor husband make her open to the risk of allowing other men to take advantage of her in order to save the stress in the family? Please, don’t mind my weird questions and sub-questions style….

JD: Oh dear (smile), your first observation is certainly interesting, but not what I had in mind when I was writing the story. Like her husband, Omoniyi, Maya was desperate. She had a sick son, they were facing homelessness and she certainly was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. She did what any mother would do, which is think of her child and family first. I wouldn’t say she knowingly manipulated Edward, but she was indeed aware that he was attracted to her. Did this help her in gaining certain favours? Maybe! Did she open herself to certain risks? Definitely. But like I said earlier, she was thinking of the best thing for her child and family at the time. Risks are things we forget when our families are threatened, don’t you think?

JU: Nduesoh suffered inferiority complex because of her ugly looks and was incredibly jealous whenever Edward leered at other women, especially the singer, Maya. She had a feeling of fulfillment (“felt born anew”) after she played the male role and made love to Omoniyi. Does this mean that some evil actions of people may be fueled from a desire to take a revenge vaguely connected with their victims or to cure themselves of their demons and not from the actual natural disposition of the predators to despoil the targeted victims?

JD: Nduesoh did not make love to Omoniyi. She took advantage of him, knowing she wielded more power (not physical, but social power). In essence, she raped him. Rape is not about sexual fulfillment or pleasure; it is simply about power – who wields more power! To her, in a twisted way, it was indeed a form of revenge. And yes, from research, it has been recorded that some people do turn into the very thing and do things that they abhor the most or feel threatened by. Nduesoh’s raping of Omoniyi was a manifestation of her fears, her anger, her regrets and so much more.

JU: Like Omoniyi, who felt a “growing disquiet” inside of him after being dirtied by Ade (scorpion) as a kid and by Nduesoh as an adult and then later “demolished” with a false belief that Maya was dead (as is evident in his abstract letters towards the end), the buildup of mass protest against government actions in the slums is evidently in the background of the your plots until its culmination in the demolition of Edward’s Oasis Hotel. Is this coincidentally built in when you were plotting this novel? If yes, do you want to subtly inject into us the awareness that like Omoniyi, Nigeria is good natured, however ravished by poverty (like Nduesoh who “was very much like this country…p.282”). And like Omoniyi, the country explodes quite often only to come back again to normalcy and commence the circle again, as may happen with Omoniyi beyond this novel? Or are these indices of the inner workings of your unconscious wish to deliver a nation through an explosive revolution rather than a gradual one?  Pardon me….

JD: From the beginning, I always knew that there would be an explosion at the hotel. While I was doing my research for Blackbird, reading up newspaper accounts of the 90’s and early 2000 as well as reading up on groups like the OPC, I came across an article of a hotel in Ikeja that was raided by the police and explosives were discovered there. It was believed that the militant arm of the OPC were responsible for them. That account gave me the idea of the explosion at the hotel, which in a way was indeed the climax of the novel. And yes, I was consciously aware of the symbolisms I used in capturing feelings and sentiments with regards our nation. In a way, I guess I was trying to illustrate that things are wrong in our country and the government are not paying attention to the majority of the people. If you continue to ignore the needs of the masses, the common man, as if they don’t exist, one day there surely will be an uprising. Look at what is happening today with kidnappings and bombings! People are beginning to react to an insensitive ruling class.

JU: Blackbird as a novel is representative of the resilience of the black bird (“you can cut down their trees, clear entire forests even, and yet they will still fly; they keep singing [like Maya]”). Therefore, are black birds, as taken from this novel, symbolic of the resilience of Nigeria?

JD: You can say so. Nigerians are renowned for taking just about anything you dish at them. If you don’t provide them with light, they will find a way of getting light. If you don’t give them pipe borne water, they will dig boreholes for themselves in their homes. If you give them bad roads, they find a way of buying big cars to maneuver the potholes etc.

JU: Now, what advice do you have for upcoming writers?

JD: This will sound cliché, but it is true – read as voraciously and as widely as possible. Read books by authors writing in the genre and style you are interested in and learn to be open to criticism, it helps you become better. Also, there is no essence in being called a writer if you do not write.

JU: Thank you very much for this exhilarating interview, Sir Jude Dibia!

"Never Be Discouraged By Anyone" __ Professor Akachi Adimora-Ezeigbo opens up to Jeff Unaegbu in this Interview

  

ABOUT HER:

Akachi Adimora-Ezeigbo is a professor and former head of the English Department, University of Lagos, Nigeria. She has published five novels, four books of short stories, three books of poetry, two plays and twenty children’s books. Adimora-Ezeigbo is a  Commonwealth Fellow at the Scholl of Oriental and African Studies at the University of London, a Research Fellow at the University of Natal, Pietermaritzburg, in South Africa, a Visiting Scholar at the Centre for African Studies at the University of Bayreuth in Germany and a Research Fellow at Royal Holloway, University of London. She was named Best Researcher in the Arts and Humanities at the University of Lagos in 2005. Adimora-Ezeigbo jointly won the Nigeria Prize for Literature in 2007 with Mabel Segun, for her children’s novel, My Cousin Sammy, and Heart Songs, her first book of poems won the 2009 Cadbury poetry prize. Seventeen of her short stories have been published in journals, magazines and anthologies and four of them won prizes in short story competitions. She has also published fifty academic books and scholarly papers in local and international journals. In addition to her literary and academic work, she is a committed activist for women’s rights. Akachi Adimora-Ezeigbo has travelled extensively in Africa, Europe, North America and Asia.

For excerpts from her new novel, Roses and Bullets, get the link here

http://publishyourstory.blogspot.com/2011/05/roses-and-bullets-by-akachi-adimora.html

 

JEFF UNAEGBU: Ma’am, it is a pleasure having you in this interview. I am particularly fond of your new book, Roses and Bullets…. A play on my mind of intense romantic love between Eloka and Ginika and intense pathological hate between Biafra and Nigeria. No doubt you did this to other people’s minds with other works (*laughs and winks) and up one work went to the big prize… wow, congratulations for the NLNG Prize! Now, in Roses and Bullets, Eloka gave Ginika a red rose (growing roses was his passion), and you spoke through Ginika that it was symbolic of love and sacrifice, whether for woman/man or country, such that blood may flow to uphold what one loves. Should we take this as the adequate definition of love? If yes, was Eloka in love with country more than woman when he joined the war rather than stay behind to protect Ginika from the danger of losing her if harm were to come to her, which finally came after all (Ginika said to him once: “I’m sure when you were in the war front, you didn’t think of me… except the fight before you”)? In other words, can we split a red rose and love one part? Secondly, what’s your personal take on Eloka’s form of love (seeing that Eloka sang to her: “Dear girl, if you ask me not to fight, who then will fight in this war?” and in another place, you wrote: “he knew why he joined the army— to fight and fight with contentment until victory is won” and in yet another place, Eloka didn’t believe Ginika when she said her pregnancy came from a silent rape by a soldier)?  

AKACHI ADIMORA-EZEIGBO:  Thanks, Jeff. I’m so delighted that you like the book, that you enjoyed reading it. It’s so big – over 500 pages long, and I often worry that readers might consider it too long. But the feedback I get is that readers’ attention does not flag until they get to the end. You are absolutely right – it is the story of a love relationship that blossoms and dies in wartime Biafra. At a time Nigeria and secessionist Biafra were locked in mortal combat, these two young people fell in love. The whirlpool created by the civil anarchy destroyed them and their love, just as it destroyed so many other dreams, lives and beautiful ideas. I tried to capture all that in Roses and Bullets. The comments I get from people, especially those that were around when the war was fought is one of awe – awe arising from the profundity the recollection and recreation that is evident in the novel. One reader said she couldn’t “remember when last she read a novel that made her cry so much”. When Eloka gave Ginika a red rose, it was the finest gesture to convey the depth of his feeling for her: he considered her pure and beautiful and worthy of his sacrifice both as a lover and a soldier. Rose is a symbol of love, beauty and purity and the red rose meant all these to Eloka. Red also is the colour of blood – the blood of the youths of Biafra that sacrificed their lives, their talents and potentials for their fatherland. To Eloka, the sacrifice is double: he was willing to give his life to protect his country and by protecting his country, he would also be protecting his love and wife, Ginika, his Mermaid, as he called her. Eloka demonstrated in the novel that he is capable of self-sacrifice – for the sake of both Biafra and Ginika. The idea of Biafra and the person of Ginika were his ideals and passion throughout the war. And when Biafra lost and he discovered what he regarded as Ginika’s betrayal and infidelity, he had no wish to continue living really.

JU: You portrayed Ginika’s father as a strict person who expects his orders to be obeyed without questioning and who hardly changes his mind (hmm, a mind harder than climbing Ugwu Nwosa) or hardly laughs or show emotions, even seeming incestuous (he examined Ginika’s body which was the root of Ginika’s rebellious hatred of him in later times, even after he explained what he did with a tale about trying to prevent a repeat of his sister’s death from abortion). Now, there seem to be a running pattern by Nigerian female writers to portray father figures and even husband figures this way, especially humbling them somehow later on in their novels and also using a female character to channel the hatred, for example, the father figure in Adichie’s Purple Hibiscus and husband figure in Buchi Emecheta’s Second Class Citizen etc. Why is there this wish to put up such mean male figures in order to subdue them later? Is it an unconscious desire in females to kill, if by a cathartic work of fiction, the hard and immovable male stereotype?

AAE: Your interpretation of Ginika’s father’s character is revealing. I never thought about it from the angle you are seeing it. Well, I see it from a different perspective. You see, fathers were very strict in the past but they seem more permissive these days because we live in a permissive age and a ‘global village’. The Nigerian society is becoming more permissive now than in the 1960s. This trend is more noticeable in the West, especially in Europe and North America (where parents can get into trouble when they are considered to have been too hard on their children or wards). In the 1960s when the war took place, parents were stricter then than now – they were disciplinarians like Ginika’s father, Dr Ubaka Ezeuko, especially with their daughters.  They were afraid that their daughters would misbehave or get into trouble with men if they were not brought up firmly. In his case, Ubaka had real psychological reasons to fear, for his young sister had been a victim. In a way, one can understand his predicament and his actions though he seemed to have gone too far. I am surprised you think I wanted to humble or vilify him. That was far from my mind, but you are free to interpret it the way you deem fit. But I’m not sure Nigerian female writers deliberately portray fathers (male characters) as mean, as you said.  It depends. These things are relative. Are you saying there are no fathers like Ubaka? My feeling is that Ubaka was doing what he thought was good for his daughter under the circumstance – trying to guide her. As you said, Ginika does fall into the trap he is trying to protect her from. So there is cause for her father’s fears. Did you notice that in the novel, there are other fathers who may be considered different – Onwaora, Eloka’s father, and the more positive Uncle Ray, Auntie Chito’s husband and Ginika’s uncle? I want to also point out that if you read my other novels, The Last of the Strong Ones, House of Symbols, Children of the Eagle and Trafficked, you will see how the different fathers (men) are portrayed. If you read these books, I believe you will discover that my portrayal of male characters is complex rather than stereotypical.

JU: Oh dear! Thanks for putting my mind straight on that issue! Point taken. Now, Prof., with the mention of real names of living figures and places in your novel, one may take it to be historical fiction, is it historical fiction or is it a novel veiling events that actually happened in real life, albeit with the use of some personas, just like Buchi Emecheta did with her Second Class Citizen?

AAE: It is both. The Nigerian/Biafran War is part of Nigeria’s history. As most historical novelists do, I have taken liberties with reconstructing our national history to suit my artistic vision, to interpret historical facts. One of the characteristics of a historical novel is to bring in some real personages that were actors of the events being depicted. Hence my use of real life characters in the novel. Roses and Bullets is an imaginative work that used the events of the past to reconstruct historical moments in Nigeria, during its transition to a modern nation. I was a witness to that war though I was a young schoolgirl at the time.

JU: In your novel, youths, especially males, even only sons like Eloka, were anxious to join the Biafran army and did so without their father’s blessings, is this a show of patriotism, taste for adventure or an escape from suffocating parental protection on the part of the conscripts? And are their fathers’ reactions a show of lack of patriotism for Biafra and more love for family? Forgive my ignorance, I was born after the war, so I innocently ask, ma’am, was this how it happened during the war?

AAE: Yes that was how it happened. Parents did not want their only sons to fight, for they were afraid of losing them [You know how male children are valued and often preferred to female children in Igbo culture.]. In wartime, soldiers die easily so parents whose children are soldiers are afraid they would die. However, in the then Biafra, parents who had two or more sons were more willing to let one of them join the army. But it was different from the perspective of young men at the time. Most of them wanted to fight, to defend Biafra and its ‘independence’. So many young men went to the Biafran Army Headquarters and recruitment centres in droves, asking to be recruited or enlisted, especially at the beginning, just after the war started. That was how many Nsukka students joined the army as officers. But later, of course, when things became very difficult and soldiers were dying from starvation, and there was shortage of ammunition and other supplies, many young men began to hide away so that they would not be recruited or conscripted.

JU: Prof., with awesome respects, you are a great weaver of the finale of sex scenes without the slightest touch of being vulgar (“Ginika let him into the core of her womanhood and anchored him”), what do you think about putting such scenes in novels, especially for a Nigerian audience, much of which seem to observe a non-permissive African culture?

AAE: You will notice that the tendency these days is to depict sex more explicitly in writing. This is so obvious in the West where books (novels) that do not have this feature might not sell. But this is not to say that sex had not always been depicted. Sex has been an important feature of literature, especially the novel genre. Remember D.H. Lawrence’s Lady Chatterley’s Lover (an extreme case, no doubt, which earned the novel a ban in Britain when it was published). However, a writer should depict sex scenes with a measure of responsibility: that’s my view. Sex is beautiful and a natural way to express true love, and so should be depicted in fiction but with profound responsibility. It should not be ‘sex for sex’s sake’ but sex to show who should indulge in it and when it should be enjoyed. However, in the case of rape, it should be depicted with clarity to show the bestiality of some human beings so as to condemn it and warn potential victims to take precaution. However, everything should be done with moderation and a sense of responsibility, especially if the work targets adolescents.

JU: On a lighter note, please what is the English name for the fruit utu which was given to Udo to eat when he was on AWOL?

AAE: Have you eaten utu before? It’s so delicious. It grows wild in the South-East, especially in Uga, in Anambra State, where I come from. I love it and often look for it in vain, in Lagos markets. It is one of the fruits I really enjoyed when I was growing up. I don’t think it has a name in English but I have heard people call it ‘monkey apple’. Utu has a shape that resembles an apple and the colour is somewhere between deep yellow and orange.

JU: Hmm, Monkey apple? Hahahaha! Yes, I have eaten utu, it is really delicious, Prof. Now, what advice do you have for upcoming writers?

AAE: I advise them to keep writing, and reading to improve their proficiency in the language they write in.  They should hone their writing skills and never be discouraged by anyone or anything. Let them develop their styles. Finally, let them plough half of their ‘sex energy’ [Laugh.] into their writing by focusing on their work and avoiding unnecessary emotional distractions.

JU: Wow. My prof., Sex energy!? I am happy you also believe in sexual transmutation! Thank you prof., for this exhilarating interview and shedding more light into the Biafran war, especially naming such places as Oji River and Nkwere-Inyi (a village in my town!) as places visited by Biafran attack traders in your novel. I hope to chat with you again someday!

AAE: Thank you very much, Jeff. And thanks for your perceptive comments on Roses and Bullets and the deep insights you brought into the meaning of the novel. Yes, let’s chat again one of these days.

THE CECILIA UNAEGBU PRIZE FOR FLASH FACT 2011 (30, 000 NAIRA/ 192 USD)

The contest is now open for the above prize and closes on JULY 17, 2011.

_Anyone (MALE OR FEMALE) from any country is eligible for this contest.

_Entrants are to submit ONLY one TRUE flash story of not more than 750 words on the theme: WOMEN AS VESSELS OF HONOUR.

_ Entry is free.

_ Soft copy of entry to be submitted as attached file in MS-WORD to lionlordjeff@yahoo.com

with the subject: CECILIA UNAEGBU PRIZE.

_The Name, Phone Number, Address, three-sentences about self and pasted SELF photographs OF ENTRANTS to be provided in MS WORD in a second attached file.

_ Entrants should make sure NOT to provide their particulars within the body of the story. This will help for FAIR judgement.

_Simultaneous submissions or submissions coming in more than once are greatly discouraged.

_Any entry submitted without heed to the above conditions may be DISQUALIFIED.

_ Special consideration will be given to stories that celebrate the virtuous woman in the authors’ lives by reconstructing for history an unforgettable virtuous action (s) done by such a woman. Masterful use of rich language, engaging imagery and cohesive plot are buzz skills for this prize too.

PUBLIC ANNOUNCEMENT of winners will be made in early September 2011, first at the launching of four books by Cecilia Unaegbu’s only son, Jeff Unaegbu and in other media.

FIRST PRIZE: 15, 000 NAIRA (96 USD)

SECOND PRIZE: 10, 000 NAIRA (64 USD)

THIRD PRIZE: 5, 000 NAIRA (32 USD)

and 10 consolation prizes.

ALL THIRTEEN WINNERS WILL BE PUBLISHED IN AN ANTHOLOGY WHICH WILL ALSO CONTAIN THE BIOGRAPHIES

OF FAMOUS WOMEN OF VIRTUE FROM GUEST AUTHORS INCLUDING THE BIOGRAPHY OF MRS. CECILIA UNAEGBU

WITH THE TITLE: WOMEN OF VIRTUE BOOK OF FAME.

NOTE: Mrs. Cecilia Unaegbu (1955-Nov 17, 2009), a twenty-first century Florence Nightingale, lived an outstanding christian life as a chorister with the Deeper Life Bible Church for over twenty years. It is on record that she had such a happy and meek personality that she never became sick nor visited any hospital, save to give birth to her children. This disposition enabled her to also break another very difficult-to-belief record of not having had any quarrel with any other human being throughout her lifetime. These facts appear contestable, but living evidences abound. She died from the only illness she had ever caught in her illustrous life. This was shortly after she had tried to nurse to health a good female neighbour who had caught a very rare sickness that defied modern medicine….

COMPETITION JUDGE:

UNOMA AZUAH,

As an undergraduate at Nsukka,

Unoma edited the English department literary journal

—The Muse and received the awards of the best

Creative Writing student for two consecutive years:

1992 and 1993. Her other awards include

the Hellman/Hammett Human Rights grant for her writings

on women’s issues (1998), and the Leonard Trawick Creative

Writing Award (2000), the Urban Spectrum award,

the Leonard Trawick award and the Association of Nigerian

Authors/NDDC Flora Nwapa award for her debut novel

Sky-high Flames. She also has a collection of short stories,

The Length of Light and a book of poetry, Night Songs.

Prof. Unoma Azuah also holds an MFA in Poetry and Fiction

from the Virginia Commonwealth University.

She currently teaches Composition and Creative Writing

at Lane College, Jackson, Tennessee, USA.

Powered by REVOLUTIONARY IMAGES NIGERIA

CEO: JEFF UNAEGBU

Cinematographer, Institute of African Studies,

University of Nigeria, Nsukka.

SEE WIKIPEDIA ONLINE ENCYCLOPAEDIA FOR HIS DETAILED BIOGRAPHY.

WOMEN OF STONES AND FLOWERS_ FLASH STORY 5

Sometime in the past, in the little hamlet of Umuowara, a woman lived who adored stones and flowers. With her bare hands, she grouped stones of different sizes and arranged them in rows around the outside of the wall of her single house. From a distance, you could see a dazzling continuum of sizes of stones on the ground, tidily growing bigger and away from the wall. And in her neatly swept compound, she heaped two mounds of stones, each of which boasted a posy of sunflowers in their center. Also, a hedge of red hibiscuses enclosed the compound. People came from far and near to gaze at the striking scenery. They talked of her fine sense of beauty for many years. And she loved to dance too and she was called “the bell of women” for her clarion call for order whenever there was disorder. But, see, as the years rolled by, she grew old and weak and only came out once in a great while to study her stones and flowers. One day, she left home and slept on the mountains. No one else looked for her except one woman. Yes, there was no one else that remembered that she was “the bell” except another woman. And this other woman was a beauty to behold. She was a flower among restless thorns. She never quarreled with other women. The only thing she knew how to do well was to spread joy and peace in the little hamlet of Umuowara. It was only this young flower of a woman that went in search of the woman of stones. But by the time she found her, the woman of stones had already caught a rare virus in the lonely bushes of the mountains that made her wince in pain and gave her uncontrollable hysteria. Whether it was a mammal or a mamba or the mountains that brought the ill wind, no one would ever know. The young woman took care of her for many days. Even the children of the old woman wondered at the care she received at the hands of the young woman.

But one fateful day, in a hysterical spell, the old woman involuntarily passed the virus to the flowery woman. It must have been through a bite or through the wind. No one knew for sure. But, ah, it was not of her own making. It was the will of God. No one else knew about this.  So for her remaining days on earth, the old woman knew joy at the hands of the young woman. But one day, the virus killed her. Suddenly, everyone else remembered that she was “the bell of women” and everyone else remembered her stones and flowers and that she danced beautifully.

And so it came to pass that the young woman became ill also. She lay wincing in pain for many days. And one day also, the virus took her. The day I saw both of them lying quietly side by side in a morgue, waiting to be buried, I knew I would not rest until I write this story for the world. This is because the young woman was my mother. The month they were buried was the most sober for the people of the little hamlet. Everyone resolved silently to always remember the beauty of flowers and stones. But, people of the world, why would they have to die before their beauty became understood? And why would the world continue to revolve around the sun without their precious beauty? Yet, every flower pure will bloom.

TONIA'S DAY _ FLASH STORY 4

She had been lying naked on a bed in a hotel room for eight hours running. The last man was merciless. He was much too big for her. So she passed out. Outside the door of the hotel room, two girls, each about twelve years old, lay spread-eagled on the corridor. Across the face of one of them was a horrifying gash that ran from ear to ear, cutting open her jaws. She lay face up. Her eyes, though glazed, seemed to have in them an angry stare. And her breasts stood like two exposed pyramids. Her pool of blood had already congealed. The other girl lay face down. A trace of blood had trickled down her parted legs and glided across the passage. Both girls were also naked. They were about a year older than the one inside. Their clothes lay in a pile at the far end of the corridor. A man in army-green uniform stood with a gun at that far end too. In place of a helmet or beret, he had a mottled bandanna barely covering his clean-shaven scalp. He was chewing gum. Rebel soldiers had taken over the capital town where the hotel stood. But he seemed indifferent. There had been such rumours lately and they had been proved false repeatedly. After a fierce border fight with the rebels early that morning, there had been no radio contact with the rest of his A-for-Action Company that was assigned to safeguard the vast presidential hotel. So he was just there, waiting for the man inside to come out so that he would go in. He stared at the nude figures on the floor and, though they were dead, his manhood stirred. These rebel girls are extremely beautiful, even as dead captives, thought the necrophile, not minding the gash on the face of one of them. At last the door opened and out stepped the latest rapist, smiling. The men hailed themselves and laughed as they made way for each other.

No sooner had the man of bandanna gone in than the other man fell down, convulsing. A new man was standing in the passageway, holding a silencer-fitted gun. He was wearing a foliage-festooned helmet and an army uniform with different shades of brown. Soon, the convulsing man lay still. A pool of blood had quickly formed underneath his ruffled uniform. The man with the silencer passed over him and looked at the two dead girls. He cursed under his breath. Then he broke open the door but met with a burst of gunfire. He was ready; for he had quickly ducked under gun range as he was about breaking in. Before his assailant could redirect his assault, the rebel soldier had already fired two bullets through the assailant’s army boots into his legs. The other man yelled, reaching for the girl on the bed for cover. He pointed his gun to her left temple.

“If you move, I will shoot her!” he shouted painfully.

The rebel soldier would not want it so, though he was not sure if she was still alive. He pointed his gun at him for a few seconds, standing up as he did so. Then he lowered the gun resignedly. That girl was his platoon leader’s sister and the other two outside were her friends.   

“Drop your weapon!” His opponent shouted again.

The man of brown uniform obeyed. Then he said, “We fight for light and not darkness. You shall be consumed.”

Unfortunately, a bullet from the other man’s gun pierced into his heart….

Just then the girl came to. The bandanna man pushed her onto the bed, still looking to have fun. His pains did not stop him. Hardly had he unzipped his trousers when a platoon of soldiers burst into the room. His body was riddled with bullets from a pump-action gun.  

“Tonia” The last shooter said.

“Brother Raymond.” The girl answered weakly, bushed by it all.

“You are safe now,” Raymond said as anger welled up inside him. He looked at his advance man on the floor. Tonia drew an unstained blanket onto her as Raymond fired another bullet into the enemy, “The battle is over.”

(C) Jeff Unaegbu, May 22, 2011.