Categories
Poems

Loneliness.

There’s a kind of loneliness that follows a man:
The kind that makes him see chemistry,
In a woman with little or no physical attraction.
That makes him feel like a mollusc
Lying alone, empty, on the ocean floor.

There’s a kind of loneliness that follows a man:
The kind that makes him find solace,
In the arms of an armadillo.
That makes him hit the soccer ball grudgingly,
Under the empty eyes of San Siro.

There’s a kind of loneliness that follows a man:
The kind that makes him find peace in herbs and spirits,
Greens , inorganic concoctions and organic solutions,
The Holy Trinity!

There’s a kind of loneliness that follows a man:
The type that makes him want to be alone,
Forever alone.
Six feet underground,
Or forever swimming with the dolphins.
For eternity!

© Ridwan Akinkunmi Ajagbe

Categories
short stories

#SARSMUSTEND #EndPoliceBrutality

“I won’t ever do that on my own. I have my kids too. I was only following orders. I swear on my life” he sobbed.

It is funny how grown men tend to cry when faced with a little torture. It is even more hilarious when it’s a police officer. I mean these guys are supposed to be trained

“why would you shoot the people protesting peacefully? Just why?” I asked.

“I saw you with my own eyes and you looked extremely happy to pull the trigger” I explained.

“Please… I am so sorry… I have kids at home… And a wife…. I wasn’t thinking…. _I swear ehn, na my boss order us_” he rambled on.

He had limited movements as his hands were tied behind his back. He was seated in a plastic chair, comfortably for a murderer if you ask me, and his legs were tied to the chair too. He was sporting several angry red tattoos on his body which was my doing.
I stepped back to admire my work, and I had to smile at the beauty of it all. The scrawlings. The designs. The messages.

#ENDSARS, #ENDSARSNOW, #EndPoliceBrutality, and #ENDSWATNOW were fighting for space on his body. Now that’s what I call a work of art.

“Please… Don’t kill me.. I’m in severe pains… I promise you that I will resign from the Nigerian Police Force… Please… Spare my life” he continued begging.

“save your strength Love,” I said in my perfect impersonation of John Constantine.

“I am going to gag you again now because it’s about to get messier” I started.

“I wouldn’t want my neighbours to hear your screams. Because those guys won’t be as forgiving as I am.” I explained.

I forced a dirty sock (must be the one I removed from his feet) in his mouth and sealed it tight with tape. With the precision of a surgeon, I proceeded to smear hot chilli on the marks I made on his body with a razor.

Oh, and I never felt so alive.

Categories
short stories

India 🇮🇳

When your time comes, the time to die, many theorize that your whole existence will flash through your mind. Your achievements. Your regrets. And that is the moment you reach enlightenment. The moment you finally know the meaning of life.
I am sorry to dash your hope, but that is not how it works at all. At least, not this curious case I am about to dive into. (take note of the verb “dive”).

       ***     ***      ***

Although he had no way of confirming the accuracy, he was pushed off the military plane exactly thirty seconds ago. Hurtling down at a speed of 10m/s or close to that, he had been screaming for the entirety of his air time. Without a parachute or any other useful antigravity equipment. Death is only a matter of time.

“India,” he thought suddenly.

“I’m free falling to my death and the only thing I can think of is an Asian country” he muttered.

“This is the moment my life is supposed to flash before my eyes” he spoke to the wind. But he can’t get India out of his mind.

By a freak of an accident or what a simple-minded human would refer to as a miracle, a fishing boat was anchored directly underneath him as he fell. All he had to do was grab a part of the sail and he is safe. Death averted. Lord be praised.

“those motherfuckers will regret trying to kill me. I will kill every last one of them” John swore as he reached out to grab the sail of the boat. He miscalculated. He was close, but not close enough.

“India… Oh… It’s the Indian Ocean he was thinking about, not the country” he thought as the steel hull of the boat beckoned.

       ***     ***      ***

“white men and their extreme sports” one of the fishermen muttered. He was unlucky to be given the duty of mopping and clearing the mass of scattered flesh, bone and blood.

©Ridwan Akinkunmi Ajagbe

Categories
short stories

Together forever

“I gave you my life” he started “I gave you everything you ever needed. I loved you like I’ve loved no other human. And yet you chose to leave me. You chose to betray me” he finished.

Looking up at him from a fetal position. Bound and gagged. She tried to reply to him but the duck tape around her mouth prevented that.

“I know what you are going to say” he started again. “you’re going to say that you are sorry and you regretted breaking up with me. You are going to say you are a victim of circumstances” he finished.

Pacing around her while the events of the past days flashed back in his mind. Her sudden decision to put an end to the relationship. The shock he felt. The denial. Betrayal at its peak. He had managed to trick her into an abandoned warehouse hours earlier.

No one is going to hear her screams when he started on her. Piece by piece he planned to cut her. Slowly. Gram by gram. With no sedative. She has to feel the pain too. No one will hear her screams, the same way no one heard his heart cry out countless times.

©Ridwan Akinkunmi Ajagbe

Categories
Poems

COVID Tales #2

Lost in the pages of history,
Deep in the past,
In a land where words have lost meaning.
Conquerors rewrite history,
But what happens when there is no victory.
Who tells the tale of the dead accurately?
Certainly not the man with a brush and bucket.

All wars start with a man wronged,
Or with a notion of being wrong.
But this war, this raging pandemic
Is a fight for survival.
It’s humanity against the virus;
But the greatest foe is still human.

The rulers want to rule,
No matter the cost or price.
But if this war is not won,
There will be no one to rule over.
And certainly no ruler!

Stay safe,
Wash your hands,
Help your neighbours!
Wear a mask or not,
Let’s keep humanity alive!

©Ridwan Akinkunmi Ajagbe

Categories
short stories

What is dead may never die again

Since I’ve been matured enough to know right from wrong, the only emotions that speak to me are love and pain. No matter who I am with, no matter what situation I find myself, I am always in pain.
Physically, emotionally and psychologically, I am never free of pain. For a time, I used to think that it made me human. But the people devoid of pain are not less human.

I loved a girl with the whole of my life and it ended in tears. Hot tears. Premium pain. And because of her, I promised not to allow any human to hurt me. Not again. But that does not diminish the pain I’m carrying around in my heart.

I had an accident when I was a teenager and it changed my life forever. At least, it made sure my knees will never remain the same again. The pain is ever-present in my joints, bones, and muscles.

No matter who or what comes along, pain is expected to descend on me at one point or another. But I’ll never feel it. No one can hurt me again. Because what is dead may never die again.

©Ridwan Akinkunmi Ajagbe

Categories
short stories

A time to die

0500hr: The alarm blared from the mobile phone I dropped sometimes during the night. “it’s five o’clock in the morning, when conversation got boring…….”. I found the snooze button and lazily pressed it. “I can’t come and kill myself, I will still beat traffic if I am smart about it” the thought surfaced as I plunged back into the crevice of sleep.

0510hr: “it’s five o’clock in the morning, when conversation got boring…….” Snooze button? Found. Pressed.

0520hr: “it’s five o’clock in the morning, when conversation got boring…….” The alarm blared again. I stood up after another three minutes of rolling around. My knee found the bedside stool and I groaned. “Alhamdulilah al-ladi…..” I continued on my way to the bathroom. I brought out the buckets in the bathroom and went outside to fetch water.

0545hr: Fully dressed and heading to the nearest mosque to pray fajr (pre-dawn prayer) before heading out. The town was already waking up by the time I left my apartment. “Yi pada, ijoba orun ku de de (repent now, tomorrow may be too late” An evangelist announced. The announcement colliding with several adhan (call to prayer) from mosques around.

0610hr: I left the mosque and I hailed the first motorcycle rider I saw. “where to?” he asked. “Na park I de go” I answered. “Na two hundred naira o” he replied. “ha ha! Na one and fifty naira I go pay” I exclaimed. “na because na early morning o, make we de go” he finished.

0625hr: I dropped from the motorcycle. Paid the man and entered the park. Immediately I stepped into the park, I was harassed from left and right. “guy! Where you de go? Na Benin? Warri? Ughelli? Asaba” came from various angles. “I’m going to Benin” I replied. “Ha na now one Benin bus comot, but nor worry, this park de quick full” another man admonished me. “I shouldn’t have pressed the snooze button twice” I thought.

0700hr: I was still the only passenger in the car. The driver came around to meet me and told me not to worry. “na only just six passengers remain” he advised. “But this is Monday sir, I need to be in Benin before 2pm” I told him. He laughed and said “don’t worry, I’m called a pilot around here because my car is an aeroplane”.

0730hr: A couple walked down to the park and were directed to the Benin axis. A smiled blossomed on my face. “four passengers to go” I thought.

0900hr: I was frustrated and angry at this point but a part of me was happy the car is finally filled up. I resolved never to oversleep again (I have always made this resolution). The conductors collected the transport fare from the passengers. And after the usual shenanigans, the car eased out of the park.

0910hr: “Let us close our eyes and pray to the Lord” a passenger announced. “In the mighty name…..” the prayer started and continued for a while.

0930hr: “In the name of the Lord I pray!” and thus the prayer ended. Almost immediately another passenger started “Good morning my fellow commuters. I am an herbal doctor with proven success in diseases such as gonorrhea, malaria, thyphoid, headache, influenza…..” . The herbal doctor continued for a while. “Any disease at all, this herbal ointment will cure it. And it is just two hundred naira for a bottle” He concluded. After the man finished, the driver turned on the music and sped on. “kaiparimarichupakpo….” issued from the speakers.

1030hr: We left Oyo State behind and entered Osun State. The water from Asejire Dam looked as beautiful as ever. “Driver abeg I wan make call” a woman announced. Without taking his eyes off the road, the driver reduced the volume of the music.
“Hello” the woman said into her phone. “E Kaaro (good morning) .. a ku ti xenophobia yii o, Olorun a ko way o (greetings for the ongoing xenophobia, the lord will save us”. The shocked expression on the faces of the other passengers resulted in a cacophony of laughter in the car. “My people and greetings” I thought.

1111hr: True to his words, the driver was indeed a “pilot”. He sped on with little or no regards for potholes and speed bumps which were ever present on Nigerian roads. Even though I knew I should caution him by virtue of sitting at the front with him, I spurred him on. Mt appointment in Benin was the only thing on my mind. “is a pilot there” I exclaimed. “You sure say you nor go audition for Fast and Furious movie?” I joked. “see this guy, na because I too good na why dem nor pick me” he replied. And at that point, we made the mistakes of our lives. The “high-fived .

8888hr: It happened so fast. One moment my hand connected with the drivers hand and the next, my skull connected with the dashboard with the force of Ronaldo”s drilled shot. The world changed suddenly. I heard screams from everywhere. My brained screamed. My mouth wailed. “Subhannallah” came from somewhere. “blood of Jesus” reverberated from another. Like a toy car launched angrily, the car rolled on the road continuously before colliding with a solid mass. Tree? Another car? A house? My eyes couldn’t make it out.

Time is only functional when you are safe, sound and sane. Time makes sense when blood is flowing in your brain and around your body not outside. The accident could have lasted for a few seconds or hours, but we had no way to tell. We were not humans at that point, but animals hoping to survive, fighting for oxygen. Gasping for one more breadth. Appointments, dates, profit and all other worldly benefits are just on the peripheral. Life matters. But what do we do when time has ran out.

Like rag dolls in a playhouse. The passengers were mangled together. I had no way of knowing if the next person is alive. Survival was the only prayer. The last thing I remembered was the feeling of being dragged, and the sound of a metal drill being operated. The world went dark.


NOWhr: The only time we have is now.

©Ridwan Akinkunmi Ajagbe

Categories
Poems

Together forever

“Together forever” was what you promised.
“And I’ll always be there for you” was my reply
Although you broke your promise,
I plan to uphold my promise,
Or die trying

Categories
short stories

Death

“The only thing constant is change” they said. I will do you one better, “the only thing constant is death“. The soul will always leave the body when it’s the appointed time. A bullet to the brain, a dagger to the death, thick concoction of poison, a fatal accident, a car bombing, drowning at sea, a plane crash, a terminal illness or just sleeping and not waking up. The heart will stop pumping blood, the lungs will stop sieving air and the brain will stop functioning. The body will die and the soul will leave the body.

No one knows their time of death. Even a patient diagnosed with terminal illness does not know to the exact day, hour, minute and second he/she would meet the end. No one knows the moment they will be acquainted with the Angel of Death. Death can come at any moment. Are you prepared?

We all plan for the future; I want to have a PhD before I get married, I need to buy my mother the latest Mercedes-Benz, I need to build a mansion for my father in Banana Island, a nice holiday in Bahamas. We are all moving towards the final destination but our speed is different. Death doesn’t post his schedules on blogs nor does he send “bulk sms” about the time the receivers will meet their end.

Death in itself is a reminder. Tomorrow is another day but no one knows if he’d be there to call tomorrow “today”.

I pray that the Lord Almighty forgive us all our shortcomings, grant us all our heart desires and the goodness of this world. I pray He grant us long life in sound health and strong eeman. I pray that He guides us to the right path and grant us Al Jannah Firdaus when the time comes.

Because the reality is that you can die before spelling D-E-A




©Ridwan Akinkunmi Ajagbe

“The only thing constant is change” they said. I will do you one better, “the only thing constant is death”.
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