Category Archives: Short Stories

As Time Flies

By Chiedozie Ude (May 20, 2017)

This is an old writeup. I hope it entertains you.

Like they all say, time waits for no one.

Today, instead of discussing religion or politics, I have decided to go back in time and narrate an incident which at first I did not find funny.

The year was 2013 and our SSCE results were out. I decided to go to Ilasa to see my friends. I had this friend called Dare Oke, a plump boy who seemed to roll instead of walking(we are still in touch). He, alongside I, decided to visit some girls (sisters) which I’ll call X and Y.

Being parochial, we hatched a plan to tell their mother that we had forgotten our WAEC registration number and we think that her daughters would help us remember them. Back then, this sounded like a master plan for we were sure that X and Y’s extremely smart mother will not suspect that we had other motives. The plan looked perfect; it was time to visit some ladies.

When we got to the house of X and Y, we could not garner the courage to knock at their door; so, we spent almost 30minutes rehearsing our speech, removing the parts we felt were wanton and also trying to embellish our speech with a plethora of high-sounding words because we knew that their mother was a tough one. We had to appear saintly.

At last we summoned courage and knocked, a maid opened the door and guess what?? We met them (the whole family) eating dinner. X and Y looked at us, really astonished that we had defied reason and common sense to visit them for we all knew quite well that their mother was a tyrant

The look we got from the mum could have frozen hell. In fact, I saw her eyes glint with danger. My heart melted. Maybe we were wrong to visit. We were in for it.

After dinner, their mum stood up and walked majestically across the room with the sure-footedness of an alpha wolf marking its territory. She was the embodiment of affluence, and also had this aura of charisma. To aptly describe her, she is the modern-day Madea in terms of sheer size.

God, she was huge! I don’t know why but for the first time I felt small, really tiny, and my nerve left me. I forgot all that we planned to say as the reason for our visit. In fact, the only thing that was still keeping me there was the fact that the doors were locked. Immediately she asked the first question which was “Why are you here?” I quickly blurted out that I was just escorting Dare, and in fact, I had no business there. Who WAEC registration number help?

😃😀😃

Time flies, I wish I could meet that mum again, let her see a Dozie void of fear, an alpha male.

The Boys Who Dangled Their Phalluses

UDE, Chiedozie Orji.

Really?

I find it difficult to write fiction and this explains why my little forays into storytelling revolves around a past experience in my life. Today is not an exception because I want to tell you all a story. A story that has no regard for morals. A story of the absurd, by the absurd and for the absurd. A story about a plethora of phalluses, little ones. Do read carefully.

The time I spent in Junior Secondary School was a feisty period of my life. It was a time when I was beginning to come of age; a time of puberty. It was a time when I learnt that one’s penis was not meant to serve only as a pissing tool.

I was in JS2 and I was one confused preteenager. I could not explain why the little man decided to stretch out its limbs when I saw or heard the slightest erotic thing. However, this problem became explicable during Integrated Science class. I never really loved anything science based but the topic of the day was one that would fill my holy head with a lot of images; pictures about copulation. I was not much interested in boobs because all the girls in my age grade were yet to develop them, but the topic of the day drew my attention to everything worth paying attention to. The topic was reproduction.

Mr. Paul, our handsome tall teacher who was rumoured to be in an illicit affair with a girl in JS3, seemed to be enjoying himself. He graphically explained to us the concept of an erection, how the penis uncurled itself and stood gallantly, like a proud soldier hoisting the flag of his country, as it sought its way into a woman’s vagina. He revelled in the discomfort our small and innocent faces must have emanated, for we were all trying to look saintly; after all, we were all good children.

Mr Paul ended the class rather abruptly, for he did not completely tell us what an ejaculation was. I was curious, what did an ejaculation feel like? How would one know when one was about to ejaculate? Nonso speculated that the feeling must be similar to what one felt after one was able to urinate after holding up the urine for hours in one’s bladder, and we could not help but to agree with his masterful logic for Nonso was known for his intellectual dexterity.

Having satisfied our curiosity on what ejaculation felt like, we moved to the ejaculator itself. Comparing penis sizes became our next sport. Funnily enough, this new game was to spread like wild fire because many a boy decided to dangle his phallus like it was some award-winning object, maybe it was. It was a time of separating the wheat from tares; a time of “MACHOrity”.

So, showcasing our lower region to fellow boys became a habit. We would occupy a part of the class that was devoid of girls to practice our newly-found proclivity. We had no homosexual tendencies; we were just kids who were revelling in our latest invention — penis exhibition. In terms of size, none of us had much back then. In fact, the only person to have pubic hairs was a boy named Jerry. Jerry was older than most of us, and his age showed. He was the only one whose phallus filled his palms. The rest of us could simply use two fingers to pick ours. Because Jerry was the biggest amongst us, he had the envy of all the boys, he basked in his moments of stardom for it was the only time he had ever come first in anything.

Of course, there is always a comeuppance for stupid acts and the phallus danglers were about to be sold out. It happened on the last day of the term, that fateful sunny day. Jerry was becoming too big for his boots, behaving as if he was the only endowed teenager in the world (the posturing peacock of a boy). To say the truth, he was getting on my nerves, and I still know till this day that my anger was not based on the fact that he was bigger, even though he thought so (the bloody idiot!). Jerry was to make that costly mistake that would destroy the phallus danglers.

That day, I decided to stay away from the clique and that was the day Jerry showed his lice-infested stuff for a last time. He probably wanted to make a lasting impression on everyone before the holidays. Unfortunately, Taiwo, a tell-tale of a boy, saw him and reported to the authorities. This was the beginning of a long and rigorous process of fishing out other participants. Jerry was not going down alone, the bloody coward.

Names were mentioned and boys were implicated. Yours truly was among the names that were released. Gently, yours truly picked up his bag and gently walked out in the confusion, for there was an uproar and students were everywhere. When I got outside the gates, I ran faster than I had ever done before; in fact, it will be an understatement to say that I ran faster than the speed of light.

Up till today, I still take pride in the fact that I escaped a beating despite being among the pioneers who invented the sport of dangling phalluses. In addition, whenever you see boys clustered in a particular place, you may want to believe that they are comparing penis sizes. Also, it is important for me to point out here that I still do not know what an ejaculation feels like, really?

Sonder

Chidinma Igweonu

It’s funny how time still passes when something horrible is happening. It’s even funnier how people continue living their lives oblivious to the fact that someone somewhere is going through a lot of pain. This has made me to wish that could pause sometimes. People should stop sometimes and really look because there is a lot to see.
It was a lazy afternoon. All afternoons were lazy these days. My mom and I were chatting in the veranda. She had just asked me if she was getting old. I had laughed silently because I knew it was a trap. If I said yes, she would tease me and if I said no, she would scold me for lying. I wondered why she had even asked me in the first place when she already knew the answer. I was indecisive. I was still thinking about what to say when I heard his scream. A high-pitched one that could have broken the glasses around if we were in Hollywood.

He was in the next compound, the compound that belongs to mechanics. I think his name was Ezekiel. He would always smile politely at me when I greeted but would say nothing for it seemed like he was a man of few words. His shirt was on FIRE! He was on FIRE! I watched as the bright orange flames leaped up his body like acrobats at their very best. I watched as they licked at his skin with insatiable hunger. People were screaming but Ezekiel was still the lead screamer. I was petrified. I think I was screaming too but I couldn’t hear my own voice. My throat was dry. My head felt heavy. My body was hot. People were pouring water on him till the fire died. In its wake were red angry burns to avenge its death

Time hadn’t stilled or frozen; not even for a second. I walked back aimlessly into my house. I saw my baby brother lying on the sofa. He had slept through it all. He wore a peaceful smile on his face. In that moment, I understood that that was just how life was. People went about their own lives wearing peaceful smiles on their faces unaware of what others were going through. This oblivion is inevitable and it doesn’t make us cruel. It makes us human.