My big sister came today with a lot of smiles in her face and a big demand for money. You are free to call her Christle.
Anyway, I am starting to wonder if I should get mad at her for holding my money for too long or ask Clag's parents for their son's whereabouts. It is almost a week now and Clag was yet to return my soccer boots.
The other day, after I was done exercising in the morning, I saw Clag's Mum trying to cut the short grasses in their front yard and after moments of desperately trying to get her attention, she only waved a hand at me and went inside. Damn!
This morning, while I was waiting for my big sister to be done with the bathroom, I remembered she was fond of keeping money in her purse and I was so tempted to find her purse and open it.
I will have to thank someone later for ensuring I did not yield to my temptations because my big sister was about leaving the bathroom when I was considering doing it.
I just wished i had the courage to ask my big sister for my money when she came out of the bathroom because I had to wait till dinner to finally get the chance again.
Sarah called Mum's phone in the afternoon and Mum picked up. After about twenty minutes of speaking in hushed tones, Mum gave me her phone and told me to be quick. As I placed the phone on my ear, all I could hear were the sounds of gunshots as if she was in some sort of dangerous scene. Only when I heard her voice did I know she was watching an action packed movie on her TV set.
"Sorry," Sarah started, and I could feel how much she meant it from the sound of her voice.
"What are you sorry about?" I asked her.
"I am sorry about what I said to you," Sarah said.
"What did you say to me that you are sorry about?" I asked.
"It was irresponsible for me to assume you liked me because of the way you spoke to me on the phone."
Was Sarah mad? How could she think I was falling for her?
"I know it is immature for me to be saying such adult things to you but I hope you understand how I feel," she added.
Adult things my ass! The next word that came to my mind was "pedophile". I have seen Mum used it once when she was telling her friends at a dinner party how bad she hated a man who raped a five years old girl.
"Are you a pedophile?" I asked Sarah and she was stunned.
For a minute, I did not hear her say anything other then murmur to someone I couldn't see because I wasn't with her.
"I have to go now Perer. See you soon."
And that was it. Sarah's voice was gone. I figured it was best I try to contact Sarah after an hour and I did. She picked up my call and told me that everything she said was a mistake and that everything she said to me about my Dad was a lie. She hung up. She was gone again.
I have read enough books to know when someone is trying to get away with a crime and in my case, Sarah was doing the same thing but I don't know what she was trying to get away with.
Tonight I was totally jittery from my conversations with Sarah and I made a decision to totally withdraw from her but I didn't have any plans on how to achieve that. Maybe I will ask Mum about that later on.
I went to Clag's house and saw him digging up something in the backyard. I didn't waste much time with him after I collected my soccer boots from him. I just left. I was desperate to get some sleep so I could wake up early in the morning and go to church and then come back home and prepare my things for school.
I guess I was feeling excited that my holiday was finally coming to an end. On the other hand, I was yet to figure out how I will start the new term. It is kind of cool if I decide to start the new term by being alone and avoid making new friends. I didn't really know what to expect on the first day of school but I wasn't bothered either.
Christle came before I went to bed. She dropped two thousand naira notes inside one of my trousers and apologized for taking too long to pay me back. She wished me good luck and told me to be serious for the new term. I knew she was only saying that just so I wouldn't call her a bad sister. After all, she was more unserious than I am.
Chibuzor Victor Obih was born in the southern part of Nigeria. Delta State to be precise. His writing includes essays, poetry and short stories. He likes to play soccer, read, study and above all, write. He is currently a fourth year student of a renowned public university in Nigeria. The University of Port-Harcourt is where he is pursuing a bachelor's degree in Mechanical Engineering. Perer Ford: Diary of a Stranger is his second book and his second attempt to explore the beautiful world of a novelist. To stay connected with him and his works, you can follow him on Instagram using the account name, Chibuzor Victor Obih or follow him on Facebook using the account name, Author Chibuzor Victor Obih.
The pathway to heaven is rough. The streets are not tarred. The bells are not ringing. Where is God?Apart from the sound of the water dripping from the tap in the bathroom, I couldn't hear anything. I couldn't even hear my heart beating inside my chest."This is going to be my last attempt," I said to myself.I tried to turn around as I felt the impact of the drug I took. I tried to move my limbs but I couldn't. I closed my eyes and saw myself dying. It was terrible. Then, suddenly, I saw Jesus Christ looking down at me. His feet, white as snow. His hair, colorful as gold. He took my arm and told me to get up."I will give you another chance, Perer," he said."Why?" I asked, confused."Because you deserve it."I didn't know what else to say. I just stood there, shocked. I stood in front of the son of God I had condemned most of my life and I couldn't say anything. All I could think about was my book. The diary I had writt
"The first time I have ever thought of killing myself was in Port-Harcourt. I wanted to make my death quick. Less painful! I wanted to pass any sharp thing through my body and bleed till I was dead. I didn't realize how painful it was until I grew older," I said to the therapist."Where were your parents when you were going through all of this?" The therapist asked."What can I say about my parents," I said, thinking. "Dad stayed with us until he divorced Mum some months ago. Then I was sent to live with my uncle here as if I was the cause of their divorce. Dad was always thinking about life. He constantly joked about God. For your information, Dad hates God. I don't know the exact reason why he hates God, I only know he hates God. Anytime someone mentions the name of God, he gets pissed.""Do you think your Dad's hatred for God is the reason why you hate God too?""I don't think so," I swallowed hard. "My case is different from Dad. I only want answers t
For days, I have been pondering about the meaning of my life and I can tell you that I haven't been gripped by the fear of it even if it is the slightest bit of it. Have you ever been scared of dying and as well feel you are not afraid of living? Only two days did I hear a preacher speak of eternal life and it resounded in my ears for as long as I could remember. It was the first time a person read a bit of my mind without knowing me. Do you think I am slowly turning to God?For so long I have dreamt of Clag and Danny. And for so long I have demanded an answer as to why I was brought to this life, but yet, there haven't been any answers. For some reasons, I reckon, I am but only a roaming lifeless mustard seed enclosed in a showcase and packaged in a nylon called life. To prove my point, think of an empty space with an empty sack lying downwards. Can you imagine that?I left home today to visit Goodness. A newness of
"Thank you for coming today," the therapist said. "I was afraid you wouldn't come because of the way you sounded when you left my office the other day.""Can we continue from where we stopped. As you can see, I am already getting tired of this introductions.""I understand. I understand, Perer."The therapist turned my file to the next page."I thought I would never say this about you but you are an incredibly smart person. You deserve a good life.""Almost everyone does," I replied."Some, more than others. Those who set goals, work very hard, stay out of trouble and complete their education deserve a better life.""Can we get on with this, ma? I am trying hard not to freeze to death.""Are you cold?""No! But I am freezing yo death inside of me.""Give me time."I watched as the woman looked at my file, raised it up, turned it over and placed it back on
"Seven children?" Miss Bisi repeated. "I am sorry, you want us to have seven children.""Yes!" Uncle Max smiled."And you mustn't apologize all the time. It is permitted for couples to share diverse opinions on children. As long as there is love, there is unity.""And you want us to have peace in a home filled with seven children?"Uncle Max didn't mind having lots of children even if it was a dozen because he had spent most of his whole life being alone. The fact that Miss Bisi wanted less than seven kids was not going to change his mind."I was thinking," I interrupted, "with the rate of inflation going on in Nigeria and with the way jobs are getting fewer, how are you guys going to raise seven children in an unstable mixed economy?""God will provide," Uncle Max smiled."Yes! God will provide," Miss Bisi added, supporting his statement. "What is on my mind is not giving birth but being referred to as a married woman. I want people to start