Category Archives: Writings

YOUNG ROMANCE: A KISS FROM A STRANGE GIRL by Tebogo Mogoto | GBAMLOG.COM

I am tk , a guy who hardly go out at night for drinks. One Saturday night my younger bro and i decided to go out for couple of drinks. We went to the nearest pup, we got there a bit early and we picked a very nice spot where you could see everyone coming in and out.

While drinking, a group of girls came in and set right in front of us, one of them was my ex, she kept on waving at us smiling.. I wasn’t interested but i waved back.. she came to our table asked us if we could join them, I said “no we are actually with our girlfriends” … why would i wanna go to a pup to be with my ex… i mean i know her, and i know her cookie too i ate that shit.

After some few hours lot of people came in, lot of fine girls,the pup got creepy crowded.. people are dancing and drinking. It was my round to go and buy, when i came back, just after i set down, I saw two beautiful girls coming straight next to us, simply because it was the only spot with enough space.

The other girl was blond i think, then the other one was gorgeous, such a hottie, a light skinned caramel babe in adidas tracksuits damn! i still remember all her moves, i couldn’t get enough of her, every chance i got i looked at her.. she seemed a bit shy, well i thought so. I don’t know what other guys thought of her but all i know is that i would lick her from head to toe.

While my brother and i still admiring her beauty we saw two guys coming for them.. the next thing she is holding hands and cuddling with one of the “motherfuckers” sorry i mean one of the “guys” who magically later became her cousin.. i didn’t buy that. still don’t. I got bored, very irritated i immediately took out my phone and replayed messages on WhatsApp.

While at it, the hottie, charlorray its her name… she came set next to me asked me why am i here if am gonna be on my phone the whole night, I told her that she was also on her phone when she got here… but in my mind i wanted to tell her ” babes go to your man i don’t wanna get into trouble “. After talking she then went back to her lover cousin.

At my 10th drink half way drunk, i felt a very warm and soft hand grabbing my hand then i looked it was her “charlorray” she then pulled me outside pushed me against the wall… asked me if i ever kissed a stranger.. i slowly said nnno… She then kissed me …. Damn!! she was so good, so amazing just the way i loved it,. it felt like the world has stopped moving, the pup turned in to a church, drunkards turned into followers, tracksuits turned into a white dress.. it was quiet a dream.

After the kiss she wanted to leave i grabbed her and pulled her back to me kissed again, she then stopped, i asked for her number, she refused while taking my hand and went back inside the pup. It felt good, so good but was very surprised but bit worried that i will never see her again after this. In my mind everything was her, I’ll be lying if i say i didn’t think of fucking her, yes true i thought of wanting to fuck the shit out of her but she was not up for that, she was just up for kissing a stranger and i respected that.

The night got old, the pup was about to close everyone went outside, all the crowd was outside and i couldn’t find charlorray.. then i bumped into her lady cousin she then told me where charlorray is.. luckily i found her exactly where i was told I’d find her. She asked me to walk her home, i agreed.

When we got to her house, we got into her car that was parked outside, we talked like we knew each other for years, we cuddled a bit though it was a lil torture to me because i couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss and she refused to kiss me again. When i asked for her numbers she gave me two choices.. numbers or a kiss, numbers came with a package of friendship and a kiss came with nothing.. she is a good girl, friendly, kind and very calm. so I made a good choice for not choosing a kiss. but i still wanted it, wanted us to be kissing friends… Wait did i tell you that we even nursed the new friendship with chocolates…. **laughs**

***THE END***

REALITY CLASSIC TALE: LOVE? OR SLAVERY? By Hilary Chikuvira | GBAMLOG.COM


“If you are not going to be a girlfriend and wife, who is submissive, who follows the lead of a husband, then we got to deal with this now, because no wife of mine will rule my house, give me orders or go to a separate church from mine!”, said Tendai fuming, his voice was shaking from anger, l could see he was totally charged up and no longer caring to select his choice of words.
I was also fed up myself, and l retorted angrily, “fine, if you want me to be that kind of a wife and fiancée, then to hell with it, what are we even doing now? Let’s not waste each other’s time anymore. Have a great life”. I slammed his car door nice and hard as l climbed out and walked away into the dark.
So how did things get so messy?
Tendai and I had fallen in love with each other a year ago, he was all l ever wanted in a guy, ‘at first’ and l was his dream girlfriend too. Both of us at the age of 28 just thought this definitely was it. The search for true love was over.
With time there emerged those nitty-gritty human imperfections. Tendai is traditional, old school and reserved on the other hand l am less cultural and a newly emerging activist for feminism and gender equality. He is the type that prefers to not touch alcohol, deems it unclean for his soul, he prefers the traditional kind of music, and he loves spending his days chilled, watching movies or visiting family and friends. It made me look like l was the wild one, so eager to try anything and everything, ready to live, never content with sleeping before 11 pm on a weekend, and definitely never one to repeat the same activities over and over again.
So as expected in such cases, we started getting into each other’s nerves. He began to think l was too independent, l had no respect for tradition and that l could just not make a good wife for him, but this was never said out aloud. I began to find him quite boring, and just not fun to hang with. But none of us could audibly say it out. We had just come a long way to quit because of what we thought to be a few indifferences.
In my culture, men pay lobola to show respect to the bride’s family and say thank you for raising your daughter well. The culture sort of sells women under the guise of culture. Lobola can be 15 cows including other cultural things that a guy must pay up, not to mention that after the lobola the guy must sponsor the white wedding ceremony as well. The bride’s family demands the amount of lobola they want, and the amount can even add up to 15000 us dollars, which is a 2-year saving for a typical middle-class guy who has decided to forgo buying a house, a car, and a decent living style. Lately, families have become overly greedy and are demanding alarming lobola prices. The fathers of the bride use the lobola to buy things like a fancy car or spend the money getting drunk. And in turn the bride has to leave her family, her religion, her lifestyle, her surname and almost everything else important is foregone by the lady as she follows her husband. It becomes the duty of the wife to clean, cook, take care of the husband and kids, as well as to get formerly employed somewhere and contribute to the new family income. If lobola was truly a cultural way of appreciating a partner l do not see why both partners cannot give lobola to the spouse’s family, or why a guy cannot give out what he has, but instead must toil for years to get to afford a wife.
And as you can imagine, l being a feminist, who realizes there is something seriously wrong with this culture from as early as 11 was totally ready to rebel. And certainly not prepared to be sold off, so l tried reasoning with the love of my life.
We were sitting in Tendai’s car, he was preparing to drive me home, after we had spent the day in the park, doing what we usually do, ‘Chilling’ in the relaxed way he likes. And poor I got bored; there was nothing new to say, no interesting conversation about the latest movie, or the hit song on the market. Just family talk about how we would chill like this, during the weekends once we were married.
Sol blurted out, “Tendi, love brought us together, l love you dearly, but there are a few things we should change love. For starts l would love to keep going to my church, l like it there, and l would love for you to take care of your siblings, but the family culture of a newly wedded couple living under the same roof with family relatives just takes the vibe off honeymoon phase, we can always share, but l prefer staying with you only and my kids, unless we really have to take in someone in need. Can we do that?
Tendai’s eyes grew big, as if they were gonna pop out of their sockets, all he could mutter was “whaaaaat?” Since l had kept this buried for so long in my heart, l thought, ah why not just let it all out, after all, he is my boyfriend, he is bound to see things more from my perspective if l explain well.
“Yes Tendai, l think women’s positions in the house are a bit unfair too, for instance a man gets to come back from work, sits at home, and watches tv whilst the lady who has also come back from a long day at work, breaks her back to cook, wash and do dishes as well as take care of the kids. It sounds more like slavery rather than marriage. I hope when we are married we can share tasks according to everyone’s capabilities, it would make married life easier for me love”.
Tendai looked at me long and hard, with clear bewilderment in his eyes. “Love a woman should be a woman, know your place, and know that it will always be behind me, your boyfriend and future husband, l will be the head of the family, l will make the final decisions, you will be my wife, what is the purpose of a wife? Is it not taking care of the husband? Talk to your mother, talk to your church elders, talk to anyone and they will tell you the same! The husband leads, the wife follows. Equal rights are there, but just not on this!” He ended, fuming with fury.
I guess in his mind he was thinking, oh this gal, what nonsense is this, women are women, and they should remain women. That was the moment when l finally opened up my eyes to the truth l had refused to see all the time; nothing was going to change in this relationship. Not me and certainly not Tendai. It was my purpose to actively campaign for women’s rights. So l took my leave from the car that had become stuffy and tension-filled from the heated argument.
This is the issue that has brought about the end of our so-called love to where we are right now, bitterness, regrets, anger, and anger.
We both think we are right; we both want the other to see how they are the ones who are wrong. And above all, no one wants to compromise.
I take a taxi, and head home, with deep sorrow inside of me, hoping someday, the society will see life in the eyes of a woman because for now, life is just far from being fair where men and women are concerned. I don’t blame Tendai though; he was born in this world, where culture and tradition plays a major role in people’s lives, even if the culture clearly weakens another party and gives the other all the power. It’s the way it is, and everyone has a choice, to do away with the bad culture, or keep it alive and running for the next generation to copy.
But l know my stand on point.

Fate of the Curious by Chiedozie Ude.

‘Curiosity, they say kills the cat’. I have often taken that statement for granted until I allowed dear Mr. Experience to teach me an unforgettable lesson.

I was in a new school and because I resumed late, I had a plethora of notes to copy, legions of them. Concentrating on my task which was writing and eating ‘guguru ati epa’ (groundnut and popcorn) without a care in the world, I ignored most of the activities going on around me, in fact I was oblivious to my environment.

One fateful afternoon, we were having everyone’s favorite subject which was ‘free period’, and the whole class relished every minute of it.

As the norm was, is and would be, free periods are periods when students show their unintellectual traits— that is, a time for the display of chronic madness. Yours truly was busy trying to update his literature note when the hullabaloo started. Screams! Grunts! Moans!, tables falling and people cheering. ‘What the hell was going on?’ I asked myself. ‘Concentrate on updating your notes,’ a still voice said.

I tried to shut my ears to the cacophony which had become more raucous and vociferous. From the little I could decipher from the madness which was threatening to bring down the whole school, two gals were fighting (names withheld because it is a matter of national security) and which for analytical purposes, I’ll call X and Y. Whatever was the cause of the fight, I still do not know, but from the ecstatic cheers the boys were giving, it must have been a wonderful opportunity for many of them to feel the fighting ladies ‘uhhhm’ fleshy characteristics (forget my euphemism, you know what I mean ‘lol’).

I was not watching, but slowly, my excitement was climaxing, I had to satisfy my eyes by watching the belligerents live. The still voice came again, warning me to ignore whatever was going on, but I ignored it. After all, I just wanted to feed my eyes for a minutes. So, I abandoned my books, after all, there would be time to update them later. I began squabbling with members of the crowd so as to get an ‘HD’ view of the proceedings. I got my reward because I stumbled to the front….

All of a sudden, everything went black in my left eye, I could not see and I felt a burning pain there. Oh my gosh! ‘What just happened?’
One of the fighting gals decided it was time to turn the tables on her adversary by stoning her, and fortunately for her opponent and unfortunately for yours truly, she missed and the stone hit my left eye point blank. That ended the fight because I heard someone screaming pitifully and it took me a while to realise that I was the person.

I stayed at home for the next two days due to the blinding pain

I learnt a big lesson that day, learn to curb your curiosity

HORROR TRAGEDY: HOW A FLIGHT TO VEGAS ENDED MY RELATIONSHIP by Toni Payne

You won’t believe how a flight to Vegas ended my relationship. I had been dating a guy named William for about one year. Things were going great between us and I had no cause for concern. Well, that is until he did something so thoughtless, I had to end the relationship.

I work as a financial consultant and although I travel a lot, my job is quite flexible. He worked as a fitness trainer so his job was also quite flexible. When we started dating, I felt the flexibility of our careers was a good sign because we could spend more time together.

Severally, I would invite him on trips with me, most especially when I knew I would be gone for a week or more. He turned me down all the time with the excuse that he had a fear of flying. I even went as far as trying to get him to enroll in a “defeat your fears” simulated flight program, which he blatantly refused.

I decided to overlook things, after all, there were other communication options while I was away. We kept in touch whenever I travelled, in fact he was very attentive so I did not see what was coming.

During one of my business trips, our flight got delayed and because I was in a hurry, I decided to change flights and take a connecting flight through another airport. This would have saved me two hours and given me enough time to get home to prepare for my meeting the next day.

As my flight landed, I glanced down at my watch and realized I was running late and may just miss my connecting flight from Dallas to Vegas. I hurried off the plane and proceeded to the next gate, hand luggage in one hand, laptop bag in another.

A few moments later, I heard my name announced through the airport loud speaker. I ran as fast as I could and although I was the last to board, I was glad I made it. I could feel the sweat build up on my brows as I pushed my way through the airplane aisles trying to locate my seat.
As I gradually made my way down the first ten or so rows, you will not believe what I saw!

There he was, sitting there, nuzzling the passenger next to him. Yes, you guessed it right, my boyfriend of one year, who did not like to fly, was flying to Vegas with another lady and he was so smitten by her that he did not see me stroll by.

Patience Rocks!

I was absolutely livid! I could feel the heat intensifying in my stomach as I contemplated causing a scene. It took a lot of self-control but I decided it was best to stay calm. Quietly, I walked to my seat where I fortunately, had a good view of him and his lady friend. This was where being patient played a good role.

I watched as they interacted with each other, partly because I wanted to make sure I wasn’t jumping to conclusions. From where I was seated I got a good view of them kissing, I even watched as they took a short nap with her head on his shoulder.
As I watched all this happen, I took several pictures on my phone as evidence. Although the pictures were not so great, there was no way he could have denied it was him.

I never knew I had that much self-restraint but somehow, I made it through the flight without going up to them. When we landed, I waited for them to get got off the plane first. I purposely stayed back so that I would not run into them.

Later that day, while sitting at my computer with a glass of wine in one hand, I sent him a text message saying it was over. I attached the pictured from the airplane. Although he tried to call me several times that night, I did not pick his calls. It has been a couple of years now, and I have not spoken to William since then. After all, good riddance to bad rubbish, right?

FAMILY TRAGEDY SERIES: JOURNEY OF HELL by Geethi Karsharma | GBAMLOG.COM

She never gave a thought of marrying a handsome guy but she wished to marry a person who understands and respects her.

I’m here to narrate a story of a women who is a victim of violence. Are parents itself enemies to a women?

A poor parents gave birth to 9 children. Now,our story revolves around the 5th person. During her childhood she was not that pampered, only because of her looks. She was given less importance among the 9 children. She was sent to a government school where others to private. Her father thought that investing on her would not bring any profit. Her mom was also not that caring.

She was graduated with a B.com degree, still she wasn’t happy because no one was there to appreciate her success. She spent a lot sleepless nights and filled with depression. Later on when she was at the age of 21, she wanted to marry a person who understands her. According to her faith, she has to face problems because of her husband too.

She got married on 22-03-2018 and it is a dark day for her. Her parents were in search of selecting a groom for her as soon as she was graduated. She never gave a thought of marrying a handsome guy but she wished to marry a person who understands and respects her.

During her matchmaking process, her father got a call by the priest. Then her father immediately went to groom’s house for a matchmaking interview. Groom’s mother told her father about the affair of her son that he married other caste girl without their acceptance and now they wanted their son to get married to their caste girl. That cruel father didn’t even think about future of his daughter and immediately agreed to their proposal and he didn’t reveal about groom’s affair to anyone.

She was very happy and thought that she is marrying a person of her dreams but, she never thought that the dreams would fade out one day. Naturally after marriage she got to know about her husband , she immediately went to her parents and questioned them but there was no response. She alone faced all the problems in her life. She was beaten brutally by that drunkard husband. Now she sacrificed her life and adjusting for her children

Over thousands of women are facing this problem around the world.In India, government introduced many schemes for the welfare of women but there is no use. It depends on the mindsets of the people.Is there no solution for this problem? Yes, there is a solution. The best way to stop this violence is to raise your voice against the people who are troubling you,never adjust for each and everything, fight back.

“Before telling your daughter not to go out alone,Tell your son not to harass any women.”

Religious Extremism: Islam Is A Religion Of Love by Chiedozie Ude

Chapter one

Abdul Dan-Ali was a devout muslim who had sworn to do whatever his religion dictated. He, alongside the Al-Khan Muslim Brotherhood, was determined to stop the westernisation of Kano State, and Nigeria in general. The last man to really tackle the immorality brought by the west and other religions into the region was the great Usman Dan-Fodio, the man who led the great Jihad in Northern Nigeria. ‘Those were the days,’ mused Abdul Dan-Ali, as he scratched the little rashes hiding underneath his full beards with his left hand while adjusting the locally woven mat he was seated on with his right hand, trapping a beetle crawling on the mat in the process.

Abdul Dan-Ali was quite sure that he saw the likeness of Usman Dan-Fodio whenever he looked at the man in the mirror. He was certain that Usman Dan-Fodio must have been as handsome and smart as he is. He smiled, as he allowed himself few minutes of vanity. He liked to think that if he were like the infidels, he would have had as much girlfriends as he wanted.

He was sure that he would be the man to instigate an Islamic revival in Nigeria, if death was the price to be paid, Abdul was willing to pay because the preaching of Imam Sodiq Mustapha, the cleric of the Al-Khan Muslim Brotherhood, on the benefits of dying for the cause sounded too right to be wrong. According to Imam Sodiq, ‘infidels have to be killed because they pollute the environment with their presence,’ and Abdul Dan-Ali was ready to answer the clarion call.

‘The infidels are not only those who do not worship the Almighty Allah but also those muslims who are hypocritical about the ways of Islam,’ Abdul Dan-Ali recalled, for this very words were spoken by the holy cleric Sodiq Mustapha.
Abdul Dan-Ali agreed wholeheartedly with the cleric, he believed that faltering muslims were bad eggs, and they should never be allowed in the midst of the real muslims.

Despite his conviction of the worthiness of the cause, Abdul could not help having his doubts about Imam Sodiq. The cleric was a charismatic leader, but sometimes, he made rash decisions. His latest decision was to send a message to Nigerians, to make them know that the Al-Khan Brotherhood was for real. He needed a sacrificial lamb for the suicide attack he was concocting. This attack would shake Nigeria to its core. The cleric had bestowed the honour of being the sacrificial lamb on Abdul Dan-Ali, and he felt the great fear of a looming death overwhelm him. He felt a bit cheated at first. ‘Why must it be me?’ He wondered, as he gazed into eyes of other members of the brotherhood, wondering if they felt relief or disappointment at not being chosen. He was sure that he saw Suleiman Bala, the newest member smile in relief. ‘The bloody coward!’

He wanted to question the cleric’s choice, but then, he remembered that dying for his faith was a huge privilege, and he was indeed lucky to have been chosen to carry out this holy task. He grew red with shame for ever having doubts about the whole thing, for after all, he had more than half a dozen virgins awaiting him in paradise. He allowed himself think of all the fun he would have with them, he would hit them hard just like he and his cronies did to every girl who was captured by them. It was so pleasurable to hear their screams of pain mingled with the moans of pleasure the girls always tried to mask. As usual, they would beg their rapists to stop, but yet, they were always very wet in their thighs, and most times, they moved to match their rapists’ thrusts. Abdul Dan-Ali was certain that they enjoyed being raped because most of them experienced powerful orgasms, and their wet thighs was the only proof he needed. Thinking of this made him quite hard as he made up his mind to handle Sarah, one of the girls captured by the brotherhood before nightfall. That same infidel who refused to renounce her christian faith.

Above raping the infidel girls, he enjoyed slitting their throats with his rusty old dagger, just like the way the decadent Christians do to their chickens every Christmas.’The slower their deaths, the better,’ he thought, as he tried to withhold the maniac like laughter that was threatening to emit from his throat.

He squashed the beetle slowly and smiled with insane pleasure as it danced the dance of death. It was time to make the infidels suffer. It was time to make Kano burn.

Watch out for chapter two!!!

Mystery Classics: NIGHTMARES by Saul Greenblatt

George Downs stood bent slightly forward in front of an officer. “You’re supposed to stand at attention, soldier, not tilted forward.”

“I have arthritis, sir, and it prevents me from standing up straight.”

“Likely excuse.”

“Sir, I’m eighty one years old. Why am I still in the Army?”

“We need all the able fighting men we can get, soldier, – so you will not be discharged from the Army.”

“This is crazy. I was discharged from the army almost sixty years ago. How could I possibly be standing here in an Army uniform. I must be dreaming. I must be having a nightmare,” he said and slapped himself in his face several times.  “What’s going on? I’m still here. I should be in my bed waking up  from this nightmare, but I’m not.”

“You will be sent to an infantry outfit where you will train for the next war.”

You don’t want someone as old as I am. I couldn’t endure the physical training.”

“We’ve dealt with soldiers like you before. We’ll make sure you endure the physical training if it takes five years.”

“Five years? I’ll probably be dead between now and five years from now.”

“The new Army doesn’t allow death unless death happens in combat.”

“No, no, no. This isn’t happening,” he yelled and sat up in his bed after being shaken by his wife. “George, you were having a bad dream. Are you okay?”

“Oh, it was terrible, Mary. I dreamt I was back in the Army, and they were going to send me to an infantry outfit. It was so real. I told them that I was eighty one, but it didn’t matter. The officer said I was going to be trained for the next war. Mary, it was terrible.”

“You go back to sleep, dear. Think about your great grandson, and you’ll have pleasant dreams.”

The next night was a repeat of the night before.  George was sleeping in a barracks, and a sergeant entered the barracks at 4:00 and screamed. “Okay, scum, everybody up. After breakfast we’re going on a nice twenty-mile march,” he yelled. “We have to be combat ready.” Then he went to George’s bunk, which was a top bunk. “What are you still doing in the sack, private,” he yelled.

George opened his eyes and looked around. “What am I doing here, and how did I get in this top bunk?”

“You’d better get moving, private, or you’ll  miss breakfast. You won’t  like to go on a twenty-mile  hike on an empty stomach. You can’t fight a war on an empty stomach.”

“Twenty-mile hike? Are you crazy? I can barely walk twenty feet.  Jesus, I’m eighty one. Look at me. Do I look like a kid?”

“Do you want special treatment because your eighty one? Ha. You’re in the Army. Age doesn’t get you special treatment, now get out of the sack,” he yelled.

“I don’t know how I got in this top bunk, and I’m damn sure I’m not going to be able to get out of it.”

“I’ll show you how,” the sergeant said and grabbed George and lifted him out of the bunk and put him on the floor. “Now get your walker, get dressed and get to the mess hall.”

“My walker? How did my walker get in my night mare? Why am I having this night mare?” he complained and looked around at all the young soldiers cleaning their rifles. “Why are you cleaning your rifle?” he asked a private.

“They keep telling us we gotta be ready for the next war, old man.”

“I’ve been watching too much news.”

The sergeant entered the barracks and screamed at George. “Why aren’t you cleaning your rifle? Why? Why?”

“George, wake up. You’re having another night mare,” Mary said and shook George, who sat up.

“It was like the night mare I had last night. I thought I stopped dreaming Army dreams years ago. For twenty years after I got out of the Army, I dreamed that the Army wouldn’t let me out. I don’t understand why they’re starting again. They don’t care that I’m eighty one. One more night mare like these and I’m going to see a shrink.

The next night, he was holding his walker as he walked in a field.  Where am I? Why are bombs falling? Who are those people running toward me? They’re shooting at me. I can’t get away, they’re shooting and…oh, my God, my stomach. They shot me in my stomach. I’m falling. I can’t move. Now, everything is black. I’m dead.”

Mary woke up in the middle of the night and reached over to touch George and felt wet. She jumped up and looked at George, who was bleeding from his stomach. “George,” she yelled and fainted.