A lot of people have told me once or twice that I have an insatiable desire for knowledge and I agree with them, I just can't stop learning."You know there is going to be a ceremony when I propose to Miss Bisi," Uncle Max announced as I sat at the back of Miss Bisi's car."And that is only if she agrees to be my wife, because if she doesn't, there will be no ceremony. I will make sure there will be no party in any place close to my house," Uncle Max added."But who is going to marry me if it is not going to be you?" Miss Bisi asserted, smiling to herself."We just need a ring and an audience," Uncle Max repeated the same thing he said a week ago; a day after my birthday."And who is going to get the ring if it is not going to be you?" Miss Bisi fired again."Me! Me and me alone!""No, I am serious, Max," Miss Bisi insisted. It was the third time I heard her call Uncle Max by his first name."I am serious too. I will get you the ring w

 The purple clouds darted above my head as the bus stopped inside a park in Port-Harcourt. I was feeling dizzy but managed to follow the short line of people who were walking towards the door. Every individual who boarded the bus from Enugu to Port-Harcourt kept their eyes fixed on their luggages as if they were trying to guard it from being stolen. Uncle Max was doing the same. I wasn't. My mind was fixed on something else. Maybe because it felt strange to be visiting Port-Harcourt so soon even when I wasn't done with my WAEC exams!"Perer," Uncle Max muttered. "Do you want me to buy you a meat pie?"  "I am fine. Don't bother about making me feel happy.""I wasn't trying to make you feel better. I understand how hard it is to deal with the loss of a sibling. Believe me, Perer, I do understand how you feel.""Do you really understand what is going on in my mind now?""Yes I do. I honestl

 "How are you doing today? Are you feeling fine? Do you want some coffee or do you want Miss Bisi to make lunch for you?""I am fine, Uncle Max. I just need some space to breathe properly.""It has been two days now and you haven't said a word to me or Miss Bisi. It has been two days now and you have refused to answer your parents phone calls. It has been two days now and you have refused to eat any food or drink water. What is wrong with you, Perer?""Nothing is wrong with me, Uncle Max. I am just going through a hard time. It will pass immediately I get back on my feet.""And when will you get back on your feet?""I don't know, Uncle Max. Maybe two days or three days. I just want to be alone."Uncle Max took a deep breath as he sat down. "Do you see what I have been passing through ever since his brother died?""I have two eyes," Miss Bisi was not in a rush to say anyth

It took only a few days of mourning and thinking for the table in my room to become my favourite place to read. I rocked my head from left to right and then from right to left as I thought of my last WAEC exam paper. Geography was not really my best subject in school but I loved to learn about new places, countries and even about busy markets around the world. After a while, I got up to tear a sheet of paper from a new exercise book. Written at the back of the exercise book were the Nigerian National Pledge and a small mathematical table consisting of multiplications that ran from two to twelve.  "Try again," I would say to Danny when he had mistakenly forgot to multiply in the right order. He would always frown then take a quick look at a similar exercise book with multiplication tables before trying again. Christle would sometimes join us for a minute or two, but she would tell us that she wasn't really good at math, and she would promise to try her best. We knew she wouldn't

I don’t know how to describe the beginning of something. Maybe you could be able to describe the beginning of something without missing out in a lot of details. My inability to describe the beginning of something doesn’t mean that I can’t be helpful in a lot of areas. It is a known fact only to me that I could discern little or nothing while wearing a skimpy cloth that doesn’t fit properly to my body. I could lay down on a hard-narrow concrete road with snares of psychosis tangling me and still mot feel the effect of it until I wake up from my deep slumber. It is kind of funny that my imaginations don’t matches with a lot of people’s perspectives about imaginations but can I blame myself for being me? Can I blame myself for wanting to have my own unique personality instead of wearing someone’s own like an untouchable cloak?Sometimes I think about the dark and it scares me to know that I am not the