It’s been four days since the dance, the children strolled around town enjoying their new freedom. Shango sometimes tagged alone, uninterested, a faraway look in his eyes.
Having no idea of what had become of Logan, they sometimes argued at length about finding out whether he was okay and how they were going to rescue him.
“I’m pretty sure he is still alive, I bet he’s much more valuable to them now since they lost us, they must have simply moved him to some other safe house elsewhere.” Shettima remarked. “Now that the institute and the government have their hands full convincing the public, we can be on to them, the assurance that we would be running as far away from them gives us the upper hand.”
Afterwards, they all concluded that with Shango by their side they can launch a rescue for Logan and then figure out how to disappear from the institute's radar, they hurried back to their camp on the plateau to inform the thu
A tall man strolled gaily through the motor park; oblivious of the stares he was provoking, his cloths was the object of their stares. It was as if he had bought a variety of clothings both native and western and had decided to try them all on.He had a denim hat perched on top a dog eared style native cap the Yoruba called abetí ajá, the pointy dog ears sticking out like bat wings, a monkey jacket on a babariga robe, a pair of Jordan sneakers on a native hunters knee sized dogo shorts, he looked absolutely ridiculous in his bastardized outfit that the passerby’s concluded he was either at the early stage of lunacy or he had recently escaped from a mental home.He boarded a bus heading into town and sat by the window, a plump elderly lady soon joined him, he greeted her cheerfully but rather loudly, she in turn ignored him with a hiss as she muttered about youths doing drugs and wasting their future. The man shrugged unperturbed, whistled happily to
Before I continue..i thought I should post a short glossary on the orishá before..seems fitting as I'm going to writing more about west African deities, since they're aren't quite as as well known to theathe readers like their Europeans and Asian counterparts.Ajaka- Sango’s half-brother, 2nd Alaafin of Oyo empire (deified) Orisha of earthquakesAjé- Goddess of wealthArò meta- (Yoruba translation, meaning three witches) sisters of Lanroye & Elegbara, the three patron goddesses of witches and wizards, Orisha of magic and sorceryAlaafia- Orisha of peace, daughter of AjeAroni- (the one-legged, Aroni the great green)Orisha of the forest
Look out for the stone hurlerHearken to the rhythm of his thundering footstepsAs they stamp to the steady beats of the Bata drumThe fumes of his fiery breath announcing his arrivalListen for the sounds of gunpowder and the melody of clashing steello the iron one approachesFor that is the only tune he dances toThe sharp metallic smell of bloodbath declares his arrivalBrace yourself in readiness when you hear the yawning of the elder godsListen to the creaking of limbs not used for a centuryAs they arose to the harsh sound of the brass gongAlong with the sonorous voice of the gate keeperAnd to the king of them all…the lord of white clothsIn his place of solitudeHe will hear the brass gongAnd there shall be no more sleep in his ancient eyesBut for the offending smellComing from the basket on the spidery one’s headThe basket of sacr
Detective Okafor picked his way carefully among the rubbles that was the remains of the junior secondary school's staff room building, the entire school has been abandoned since an Abami took a likening to the environment and then decided to move in, living in the staff room building.It’s been a couple of months since the calamitous incident in Lagos and the escape of all sorts of abnormal anomalies that the newspapers and the media has been dubbing the Abami into the city and neighboring towns, some of the creatures are yet to be accounted for, the aquatic looking ones into the sea while others had fled into the wild, some of the smaller ones even managed to hide out inside the city but recently the monstrous ones were being forced out to seek food, in a city population of over 5million, it was like trapping a hungry fox inside a pen full of chickens.Just a few weeks back, an Abami had laid waste to the streets of Victoria garden city before it was finally ove
A few hours later, the detective was driving through the suburbs of Maryland, six years since he got transferred to the metropolitan city of Lagos and fifteen years of service in the police enforcement, he’d have thought he ought to have gotten used to the infamous Lagos traffic but he knew if he could not get used to it, he was sure nobody can.The traffic gridlock could be so bad at times, moving at a snail pace that a destination that would have taken an hour could take three, at first, one would think that the reason for the gridlock hold-up was the incompetence of the traffic law enforcement agency but the truth was that Lagosians are impatient.For instance, they were only law-abiding under the watching eyes of a traffic officer but as soon as nobody’s watching, they flaunt traffic rules, finding ways to create extra grid lanes, ignored the speed limit and the traffic lights and were only sorry when they got caught and fined.But the reas
Binta sighed contently as she basked in the mid-day Ivory Coast sun, the animated French accented voice conversing with her mother drifted over her thoughts as she sipped chilled coconut milk. She signed once again as she laid back down on the pent house balcony’s reclined chair pushing the voices away to focus more on her reminisce.It’s been three months since they fled the institute and one since they found her birth mother. She still found it hard to believe her mother was Cha Cha Adaure Roberts, if someone had told her months before that her favorite celebrity was her mother, she would have recommended floor 01 to them, it was where all the crazies were incarcerated in the institute. Cha Cha Roberts was a wealthy superstar Nigerian actress and model, with multiple awards wins and nominations across the continent and the world. She watched as her mother and her make-up artist chattered on as they get her ready for a photo shoot, the main reason why she followe
Binta had always been a poor flier, the worst of the children as she had none of Orchid’s grace or Obiora’s speed so she landed as soon as she was away from the pent house, ignored a startled crowd of tourists and took off running.Her wings were instead useful for her running speed; she used her super sensitive wing spans to navigate around obstacles as small as flies and bugs, sharp turns that would have tripped her as she blitz on faster than ordinary eyes could see. Praying she wasn’t too late, she pumped her legs faster.After a few minutes, the smell of burning rubber invaded her nostrils. She reeled in, her momentum skidding her onwards a mile before stopping. Her sneakers soles had been licked away with friction. With a curse she bent over to pull off the ruined remains before a billboard caught her attention.(TOKEH BEACH RESORT-KM 47 TOKEH BEACH FREETOWN) she cursed. She had raced the wrong way, all the way to Sierra Leone. Stupid Bin
Sisi Kola recovered first as he drew a hand gun from his purse aimed at Obiora and fired. The result was instantaneous as the weapon probably wasn’t an ordinary hand gun because the blast chucked Obiora cannonballing back into the house.“Obi” Orchid cried. They soon realized it was an ambush as armed Askari guards sprang from hidden places and they were soon surrounded.“We mean you no harm kids, well not entirely the big guy made me nervous.” Sisi Kola grinned. “Well you fellas took us for a ride didn’t you, now get into the van and nobody else gets hurts.”Orchid laughed bitterly. “You should have thought about that before shooting at the wildest among us, good luck getting us into your vehicle now.” She said, as if on cue Obiora launched himself from the wreckage he was buried in, grabbed Sisi kola by his belt and hurled him across the lake with a roar, his body bounced over the lake surface like a