Tag Archives: classics

UDE, Chiedozie: Pragmatic Analysis of Chibok Girls. GBAMLOG.COM

Literature is so significant that it can perform a lot of functions. One of such functions definitely has to be the affective function. Literature can be affective when it aims to produce certain effects on the reader. Having established this fact, it is ideal to state that this essay aims to display the affective power of literature by conducting a pragmatic analysis of the text Chibok Girls.

The text in question has its characters and setting drawn from real life; hence, it can be described as a realistic text. It contains the investigations carried out by Helon Habila in the North-Eastern part of Nigeria. The investigation revolves around the history and causes of insecurity in Nigeria. Because of the presence of the writer at strategic places that have been affected by violence instigated by the dreaded sect, Boko Haram, this text can be described as one which contains first-hand information on the prevalent issues plaguing the country.

The title of the text is significant because it captures the most notable and internationally-recognised crime perpetuated by Boko Haram — that is, the abduction of 276 school girls on the 24th April, 2014, by Boko Haram. This title, however, does not constitute the focal point of this report. Rather, it serves as an instance which illustrates the ruthlessness of the Boko Haram sect.

Insecurity, as highlighted in the text, is as a result of activities such as terrorism, bad governance, corruption, religious-instigated violence etc. All these issues no doubt are bound to have certain didactic or other forms of effects on the reader. Some of these effects include: pity, fear, anger, apathy, and the didactic lesson of early prevention.

Pity is one of the major effects this text has on the reader. This is plausible because ruthless and despicable acts of Boko Haram on harmless civilians will without doubt draw out the pity of the audience. A good example is how the mother of Riskatu, one of the abducted girls, is made to narrate the painful events of the day her daughter was kidnapped. This instance, surely, is significant because it captures the pain and suffering which the parents and the relations of the abducted girls are going through because of their ignorance on the status of their daughters — that is, are they alive or are they dead? Another object of the reader’s pity has to be the abducted girls who will now serve as wives and concubines of terrorists instead of being with their families and completing their education. Unarguably, the pragmatic effect of pity is brought to the fore through the theme of terrorism.

Another pragmatic effect the text will likely have on the audience is that of fear. Human beings are creatures who fear a lot of things, ranging from known and unknown dangers. In the case of this text, the reader’s fear is justified because of several reasons. One of these reasons has to be the reader’s in-depth knowledge of the activities of this sect, and another reason for the reader’s fear, obviously, is the fact that the reader is a Nigerian; hence, he is not completely safe from the violence caused by the nonchalance of the government towards small and large-scale criminal activities and, of course, violence instigated by religious extremism as seen in the way Yusuf, the elder brother of Shekau, was able to spur his followers to commit several atrocities, and also, through the Maitatsine Uprising, as described by Helon Habila in the text. Hence, one can be certain to say that the themes of violence, terrorism, religious extremism etc., are sure to instigate the feeling of great fear in the reader.

When talking about the pragmatic effect this text has on the reader, one is sure to mention anger. The reader is surely going to experience anger at the government because of their nonchalant attitude towards fighting crime and safeguarding the lives and property of Nigerians. This attitude is captured by Habila in the way he narrates the transition of different government and the way they have all handled insecurity with levity. The focus, however, centres on Jonathan’s regime as president because it was during his tenure that the Boko Haram sect committed their most notable atrocity — that is, the abduction of the school girls from Chibok. The security agencies are also not innocent. Habila, through his report, captures instances where soldiers decided to collect bribes instead of arresting offenders. Surely, the callousness of the government officials and military personnel will surely emit the anger of the reader.

Furthermore on the pragmatic effect this novel has on the reader is that of apathy. Apathy in this sense means disinterest. This disinterest encompasses both religious and political participation. Because of the extreme way in which the insurgents attacked churches, many Christians, especially those living in areas in the North, will, of course, find it difficult to feel safe during church service; hence, they will end up avoiding service to God. An example of Boko Haram’s ruthless way of dealing with Christians is captured by Reverend Madu’s story on how his church was attacked. Muslims themselves are not exempted from religious apathy. Habila reports stories of clerics who were killed because they spoke against the tenets of Boko Haram. All these acts of violence against religious institutions will surely make the readers feel discouraged about religion.

Still on apathy as a pragmatic effect, one can, of course, not gainsay the fact that the activities of Boko Haram has caused a lot of people to become apathetic towards politics. This is evident in that there has been no elections in Chibok for years because of the fears of an attack by the terrorists. This political apathy will surely manifest itself in the reader because they will, without doubt, contemplate their safety during elections, and this will ultimately make them sit at home instead of voting. Another cause of political apathy definitely has to be the Nigerian irresponsible government. Helon Habila does not mince words as he reports how the government both at federal and state level have played huge roles in the current malaise of insecurity plaguing the country. Knowledge of this irresponsibility on the part of the government is likely to make the reader brand everyone in politics as birds of a feather; hence, the reader will surely show nonchalance towards politics.

Finally, the didactic lesson that can be learnt from Habila’s report is that early action by the government towards the prevention of crime is the solution to insecurity in the country. Habila draws attention to this by constantly reporting or emphasising how the various governments in Nigeria have ignored the signs of an uprising until it became out of hand as seen in the Maitatsine Uprising and Boko Haram Insurgency. Because history is deemed as a great teacher, it is expected that Nigerians (both the government and the readers) should learn from past mistakes in order to avoid repeating these errors.

In conclusion, the text Chibok Girls is one which captures the realities of people living in Nigeria. It is set in Nigeria; therefore, it may be regarded as one which will have lots of pragmatic effects on Nigerian readers. Some of these effects have been discussed in this essay; thus, proving that the text Chibok Girls is one which can be defined based on its affective powers on the reader.

Ude, Chiedozie Orji.

CALL FOR VOLUNTEERS!!!

Dear Esteemed Readers,
LITC — LOVE IS THE CURE — is hosting its second charity outreach on the 27th of December, 2019. So, you all are cordially invited to take part in it. Assist us in any way you can. We receive donations in form of cash, clothes, food items and toys. Join us today, as we spread the love during this period.

For more information on this, text or call the following numbers:
1. Chiedozie Ude *09090953414*
2. Chidinma Okonkwo *08180073734*
3. Afolabi Shobowale *08183848314*
4. Ekene Muolokwu *08127866274*
5. Andre Orji *08105463252*
6. Tochukwu Okoronkwo *08145697832*

Mimetic Analysis of Bomboy. Chiedozie Ude. Gbamlog.com

The novel Bomboy revolves around the character of Leke, a single young man who is portrayed as quite restless and antisocial; hence, he develops the habit of stalking women and stealing irrelevant things from people. He later finds out through a series of letter written to him by his biological father that the cause of his queer mannerisms stems from a generational curse placed on his family by a witch doctor whom they wronged. Having found the source of his troubles, Leke embarks on a mission to rid himself of the curse. All the events in the story prove that the novel Bomboy is one that can be analysed based on the verisimilitude it shares with the human society.

The novel Bomboy is rich in content in that it displays the relationship between modernity and tradition as it portrays human life. The novel portrays modernity through several ways. One of such ways is highlighted through the author’s depiction of a plethora of instances when Leke seeks modern and professional help in his search for rest and peace of mind. By so doing, themes such as: the universal theme of cultural conflict, as depicted by the clash between the Nigerian and South African beliefs; the theme of identity; the theme of love; the theme of racial discrimination; and the theme of the despicable nature of the prison system etc., are projected by the author. All the aforementioned help reinforce the argument that this novel contains some present issues faced by people in the society.

However, it is, arguably, the author’s use of traditional events that make this novel really stand out. By fusing tradition into the story, the author, who is of the Yoruba origin, has been able to reinforce several notions postulated by other Yoruba authors such as Wole Soyinka in Death and the King’s Horseman, Femi Osofisan in Women of Owu and Ola Rotimi in his Nigerian adaptation of Sophocles Oedipus Rex — that is, The Gods are not to Blame. One of these notions is the belief in the gods and their ability to affect destinies. Consequently, we have the theme of fate. All these themes combine to strengthen the argument that Bomboy is a realistic work of art with happenings that are peculiar to man.

The theme of fate can be considered as central to this story. The author develops this theme by employing several literary devices such as flashback, suspense and other factors such as happenstance. Through these devices, the theme of fate is established and the reader is also able to link different events to the subject matter. One may be tempted to argue that the author’s use of similar dates to convey past events that have significant effects on present events is purely coincidental. However, it simply strengthens the argument that everything has been premeditated by the gods. Hence, one can be justified to describe the gods as domineering and all powerful because they are capable of determining the destinies of man. This theme of fate is arguably most prominent in the life of Oscar, who from a very little age realises that he will never know peace or be happy because of the curse of the witch doctor, an emissary of the gods, on his family. Therefore, one can be justified to declare that it is the pronouncement of the gods that made Leke to behave awkwardly.

Another theme that is worthy of attention is the theme of cultural conflict. The concept of cultural conflict is a universal phenomenon which appears in many works of art. This theme is portrayed by Oscar who finds it difficult to get along with his South African colleagues because of his belief in the stories which surround the mythical and ancestral Queen Moremi of Ile-Ife. Because of this belief, Oscar fails to acknowledge South African heroes such as Rhodes. This clash of beliefs adequately sums up the tensions that plague the relationship between Nigerians and South Africans in the modern era — that is, 21st Century.

Closely related to the theme of cultural conflict is the theme of identity, another universal concept. The theme of identity is brought into focus in this book through the plights of biracial people. Both Leke and his father are the products of interracial unions; hence, they can hardly pass as whites or as blacks. This issue plagues Leke’s childhood because he gets bullied by school mates who recognise, through his white foster parents, that he was adopted. Another instance which reinforces the theme of identity is Leke’s name. Leke, because he was not raised by his biological parents, is forced to answer awkward questions about the meaning of his name and its origin.

The theme of love is another recurring idea which helps to project realism in the text. Love, however abstract, may be regarded as the force behind the actions of the characters. For example, Oscar’s grandmother is motivated by her love for her daughter; hence, she refuses to honour her promise by withholding her daughter. Unarguably, love may also be regarded as the catalyst behind Oscar’s decision to have Malcom Feathers killed. Also, everything Jane does for Leke is motivated by love and this explains why he really adores her, even after death, as seen in his ritual of planting 4 o’clock flowers. The budding love affair between Leke and Tsotso cannot be exempted. Through this theme, the characters have been able to vividly portray the sacrifices humans can do for their loved ones.

Another theme which ensures that this novel possesses verisimilitude with its environment is the theme which captures the despicable nature of the South African prison system. The South African prison system neither rehabilitates or reforms. Rather, it is a place where different vices such as murder, homosexuality, rape violence, etc., thrive. The pathetic situation of these prisons are vividly portrayed in Dennis Brutus poem: “Letters to Martha” where Dennis Brutus describes in detail the atrocities that are committed by inmates on one another. This inter-textual evidence strengthens the theme being discussed because it proves the truism of the theme through the similarities in the way the inmates in both texts act —that is, violence, homosexuality and killing are the order of the day. With all this evidence, one will surely not receive Oscar’s death in prison with much surprise. Therefore, one cannot gainsay the fact that the theme of the despicable nature of the South African prison system as portrayed in Bomboy captures the reality of prisoners in South Africa, and by extension, prisoners all over the world.

In conclusion, the text Bomboy is one which portrays real life with its setting — places drawn from real life; themes — ideas that are universal; and character actions etc.

Expressive Approach to Analysing “A Song for Ajegunle” by Niyi Osundare. Chiedozie Ude. GBAMLOG.COM

As is the case with most literary works of art, Niyi Osundare’s “A Song for Ajegunle” is a work of art which portrays realism. Realism is portrayed through the setting of the poem — that is, a place in Lagos known as Ajegunle. The place setting is reinforced or rather made known through the title of the poem. Aside from the setting which is drawn from real life, realism is also captured in the text through the way the poet vividly describes the happenings in the location. For example, his description of how so many children that should be in school are out of school aptly captures the situation of many a child in Ajegunle. Hence, one can without any iota of doubt say that this poem is, indeed, realistic.

The poem “A Song for Ajegunle” is one which captures the social, economic and political realities of Ajegunle. The poem centres on the poverty-stricken ghetto area known as Ajegunle. It contains the persona’s description of the dirt-infested and government-ignored area in the morning, evening and night. The persona does not mince words as he vividly describes Ajegunle, using a series of figurative expressions to give maximum effect to his description. Because of the indepth knowledge which the poet has of this area as exposed by the simile “curious bird”, this essay will seek to analyse the poem based on how it represents the poet’s feelings and attitude towards the subject matter.

The poet is a well-known romantic who, through his poems, has been able to promote the conservation of nature. Hence, it comes as no surprise that he bemoans the unhealthy situation of Ajegunle. Some of the issues which the poet raises in this poem include: poverty, insecurity, underdevelopment, irresponsible government, and filth etc. These issues are developed through the poet’s choice of words and of course, his use of figurative expressions.

The issue of poverty is central to this poem in that the poet does not mince words as he describes the pathetic situation of the people who live in Ajegunle. He brings this into focus by describing the smoke which comes out of their idle kitchens as pale. The phrase “idle kitchen” is apt because it depicts the lack which is inherent in this place. Niyi Osundare further comments on the issue of poverty by describing how children are unable to go to school and also how many households cannot afford decent meals — that is, the tables are without bread. Through the poet’s cacophonic choice of words such as rumble, manacling, battering etc., his unhappiness at the state of affairs is evident.

Another issue that is on top of the poet’s mind is the issue of underdevelopment. This issue is brought to the fore by Niyi Osundare through the use of contrast. In comparison to Ikoyi, Ajegunle is simply an empty bag that is sprawled. By this, Niyi Osundare, unequivocally, states the backward nature of Ajegunle in comparison to other popular areas of the state. The poet goes on to lament the deplorable housing condition of Ajegunle. To him, the poet, the houses are hovels or slightly better than hovels. He expresses his unhappiness by his repetition of the word “through” in stanza three. The repetition is significant because it serves as a medium which the poet uses to reveal how backward Ajegunle, indeed, is.

Of course, the theme of underdevelopment is related to the theme of bad governance. Niyi Osundare exposes the inability of the government to provide basic amenities for the people in Ajegunle. Niyi Osundare draws light to this by commenting on: the poor state of roads; the poor toilet facilities as exemplified by people’s penchant for defecating in the gutters; lack of good water as seen in the phrase “taps without water”; and of course, not forgetting the apparent lack of electricity which is exposed by Osundare’s nighttime description of the sweaty stupor of people sleeping in crowded mats. Through his use of different imagery such as sight, touch etc., Osundare is able to comment on the issue of bad governance.

Osundare sticks to stereotype in that this poem is in tandem with other poems written by him which talk about the environment. Due to this, it comes as no surprise that Osundare’s description is filled with visual images of filth. These images are further reinforced by the refrain which continually describes Ajegunle as a place that is sprawled. This issue of filth is one is dominant in the stanzas. Firstly, the poet describes the place as weed-infested. He goes on to address the issue of people defecating in gutters and this is unhealthy because it instigates the outbreak of water-borne viruses such as cholera. Osundare further comments on the issue of filth by drawing upon the image of smell. This is made known through the metaphor “the hooded stench of nightsoil” which further reinforces the issue of filth in the poem. Through this issue, Osundare expresses his disdain for the environmental hazards plaguing Ajegunle.

In conclusion, the poet fully utilises the expressive power of literature in this poem because he is able to shed light on several personal and national issues. In fact, this poem may be described as a poem which the poet uses to protest against the rulers of Nigeria; thereby, championing the cause of the masses.

UDE, Chiedozie Orji.

Department of English, University of Lagos.

09090953414

PERFECT SEDUCTION: HOW I SEDUCE MY ENGLISH TEACHER.| GBAMLOG.COM

I Seduced My High School English Teacher, It Was Totally Worth It

“Blood, sex, and death.” Those were the three things Mr. Fitzpatrick taught us were part of every gothic horror novel. He was the high school english teacher I hopelessly crushed on, and I couldn’t help but notice that his eyes lingered on me when he said the second word. Sex.

I was a senior then, about to graduate. Glued to my seat even in the late, late spring when my classmates were terminally zoned out, focused on graduation, the summer ahead of them, college. But I still had unfinished business here, and today he was wearing a black tie over a light blue button-up and jeans that were just snug enough to drive my imagination wild. When he perched on the edge of his desk reading from The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, I let my eyes wander up and down his body, imaging a new use for each part.

He was the new cute teacher this year, the one the girls whispered about between classes. Mr. Fitzpatrick is looking good today.I’d tried to pretend I wasn’t one of them before, it’s not interesting to have the same crush as everyone else. But his charm was undeniable, who else could make the classics so sexy? Every day when he taught his inflection would bounce up and down with passion as he taught us about Bram Stoker and Shirley Jackson.

When he taught Dracula he became brooding and obsessive, delving into each character. Even in the clinical, fluorescent-lit classroom it was sexual. I spend the 50 minute class period imagining his lips — his teeth — on my neck, finding me in secret, lusting after my “life force” as Stoker says. The week he spent on, The Haunting of Hill House, was one of the most oddly erotic of my life. The text was thrilling, I was in a constant state of suspense and I held myself to not reading ahead, and being completely present in class when he talked about the role adrenaline plays in our bodies physiological state as we read. I didn’t ask, but I was sure my increased interest in him was one of those byproducts he was talking about.

When graduation was only a few weeks away, I felt bolder. Surely I should make a move, if the consequences of being rebuffed were so low? What could they do? I was almost gone. And so I became consumed with the idea of hooking up with Mr. Fitzpatrick.

At first, I thought I could be subtle. Mr. Fitzpatrick certainly noticed when I wore something low-cut or a little more form-fitting. Once I entered his classroom in a dress that particularly accentuated my curves and I could have sworn I heard him groan. But understandably, he never did anything more than cast a lingering glance my way.

He’d get in too much trouble, I reasoned. I’m going to have to be the one to do something. So I put my mind into creating the perfect plan: I’d just have to present him with an opportunity he couldn’t say no to.

The senior end-of-year dance was coming up, and I inserted myself into the planning committee long enough to serve as an official liaison and ask Mr. Fitzpatrick if he would be a chaperone, apparently we were in desperate need of one (I didn’t ask anyone else). A light flickered in his eyes as I carefully enunciated the word desperate. Hopefully that was a look of comprehending my agenda. He agreed to the task.

I bought new lingerie, black and red and lacy. I wore it under a loose-fitting white sundress, pure and virginal like a gothic heroine, but dark and carnal underneath.

At the dance, I added a note to the clipboard waiting for him as a chaperone. It was the regular list of rules to enforce and emergency contacts. My note was underneath, it was a line from Draculaalong with his room number:

“No man knows till he experiences it, what it is like to feel his own life-blood drawn away into the woman he loves.” CLC 345.

I never went to the dance. Instead I made my way through the dark and empty corridors of the school until I let myself into his classroom. I brought with me one candle to break up the darkness without relying on the fluorescents. Lighting it and setting it on a desk in the front row I climbed into Mr. Fitzpatrick’s seat behind his desk, pulled the straps of my dress down so the top of my lacy bra was revealed, and crossed my legs with my heels resting on the edge of his desk, waiting.

It was a long wait. He didn’t find my note right away, but it became pleasurably agonizing, every tiny sound I heard in the hallway seemed like it could be him approaching. I got excited and then mellowed again when I realized it was my imagination. When he did come, I didn’t even hear him approach.

“Adrienne.”

It was a guess he made as he entered the classroom, it was too dim to see my face but I had made sure the glow illuminated my nearly bare legs. I was glad he was expecting it to be me.

“Mr. Fitzpatrick.” I acknowledged him and removed my legs from his desk, slowly crossing them in front of me.

“This note… what are you doing here? We shouldn’t be here.”

He was saying the words, but even to someone who wasn’t engaging in wishful thinking they sounded unconvincing. He didn’t want them to be true. I stood up and leaned against the edge of his desk, facing him, opening my legs a bit so he could imagine himself between them.

“Mr. Fitzpatrick, I’m sorry if you’re misunderstanding. I just wanted to discussDracula more.”

He moved closer, grinning.

When he was close enough that I could touch him, I grabbed his tie and pulled his body into mine. I could feel he was already hard as he pressed against the loose fabric separating us. The situation excited him as much as it excited me. “You’ve always been my favorite student, Adrienne, but I could get in a lot of trouble for being here right now.”

Pulling harder on his tie, my mouth found his neck. “I’ll just have to make it worth your while then.”

He groaned and his hands found the undersides of my thighs, pulling me closer to him and moving us both back so I was resting on his desk. I slide back farther and wrapped my legs around him.

“I just wanted to experience this before graduation,” I told him, “I’ve been trying not to make a move all year.”

Even in the low light, I could see the smile that spread across his face. He says he loves the way I look lying on his desk. I respond by feeling the bulge in his pants, attempting to grip him through the fabric and feeling him grow.

“We need to make this quick. They’ll look for me if I don’t come back.”

“Perfect.” With the suspense building as long as it had, I wouldn’t last long in his arms anyway.

I heard him unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants but I didn’t look away from his face. Even in the dark he looked handsome, brooding. I wanted him to tell me more about sex and blood and death but I also just wanted to experience it with him — all the parts of being human, all the things worth writing about.

I was happy there, to be a willing participant in a fantasy I was sure he had. Happy when he slid the lace panties I’d brought for the occasion off, happy when he didn’t bother to remove my bra but instead pulled my breasts free from it, and especially happy when his body met mine.

While forging a path with his mouth from my neck, down to my collarbone, and then landing on my breasts he pulled me closer to him and entered me. The speed with which he poured himself into me belied his eagerness. I knew he wanted me as much as I wanted him to. As much as I’d fantasized about him wanting me.

Lowering himself so his face was next to mine he whispered, “Adrienne, if you want to be a great student you’re going to have to finish me off with your mouth.”

Kneeling before him I skipped the niceties and began blowing him full on right away, working my hand around his shaft in tandem with my mouth. His hands worked their way through my hair, separating it into two ponytails he held firmly as he used them to guide my head onto his cock, increasing in rhythm until I felt him tense up, his hands clenching my hair. Pulling my head down on him, he held me there and emptied himself into the back of my mouth. I could taste the saltiness as I removed myself from him, licking my lips.

It was the perfect end to my senior

year.

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I Seduced My High School English Teacher, It Was Totally Worth It | GBAMLOG

I WISH TO LOVE YOU LONGER | GBAMLOG 

I WISH TO LOVE YOU LONGER

*phone call *
Boy: Hey, hun!
Girl: Hey.
Boy: I missed you at school today. Why weren’t you there?
Girl: Yeah, I had to go to the doctor.
Boy: Oh really? Why?
Girl: Oh, nothing. Just some annual shots, that’s all.
Boy: Oh.
Girl: So what did you guys do in Math today?
Boy: You didn’t miss anything that great, just a lot of notes.
Girl: Okay, good.
Boy: Yeah.
Girl: Hey, I have a question to ask.
Boy: Okay, ask away.
Girl: How much do you love me?
Boy: You know I love you more than anything in this world.
Girl: Yeah.
Boy: Why did you ask?
Girl: *silence*
Boy: Is something wrong?
Girl: No. Nothing at all. Um. How much do you care about me?
Boy: I would give you the world in a heartbeat if I could.
Girl: You would?
Boy: Yeah of course I would. *sounding worried* Is there something wrong?
Girl: No, everything’s fine.
Boy: Are you sure?
Girl: Yeah
Boy: Okay. I hope so.
Girl: Would you die for me?
Boy: I would take a bullet for you any day, hun.
Girl: Really?
Boy: Any day. Now, seriously, is there something wrong?
Girl: No, I’m fine. You’re fine. We’re fine. Everyone and everything is fine.
Boy: Okay.
Girl: Well, I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow at school.
Boy: Alright, bye. I love you!
Girl: Yeah. I love you too. Bye.
THE NEXT DAY AT SCHOOL
Boy: Hey, have you seen my girlfriend today?
Friend: No.
Boy: Oh.
Friend: She wasn’t here yesterday, either.
Boy: I know. She was acting all weird on the phone last night.
Friend: Well, dude, you know how girls are sometimes.
Boy: Yeah, but not her.
Friend: I don’t know what else to say, man.
Boy: Okay, well I gotta get to English. I’ll see ya after school.
Friend: Yeah I gotta get to Science. Later.
THAT NIGHT
Girl: Hello?
Boy: Hey.
Girl: Oh, hey.
Boy: Why weren’t you at school today?
Girl: Uh, I had another appointment with the doctor.
Boy: Are you sick?
Girl: Um, I have to go. My mom’s calling on the other line.
Boy: I’ll wait.
Girl: It may take a while. I’ll call you later.
Boy: Alright. I love you.
-very long pause-
Girl: *with a tears in her eyes* Look, I think we should break up.
Boy: What?!
Girl: It’s the best thing for us right now.
Boy: Why?
Girl: I love you.
THE GIRL DOESN’T COME TO SCHOOL FOR 3 MORE WEEKS AND DOESNT ANSWER HER PHONE
Boy: Hey dude.
Friend: Hey.
Boy: What’s up?
Friend: Nothing. Hey, have you talked to your ex lately?
Boy: No.
Friend: So you didn’t hear?
Boy: Hear what?
Friend: Um, I don’t know if I should be the one to tell you…
Boy: Dude, just tell me!
Friend: Uh. Call this number, 433-555-3468.
Boy: Okay, thanks!
BOY CALLS THE NUMBER AFTER SCHOOL
Voice: Hello, Suppam County Hospital. This is Nurse Victoria.
Boy: Uh, I must have the wrong number. I’m looking for my friend.
Voice: What is their name, sir?
*boy gives info*
Voice: Yes, this is the right number. She’s one of our patients here.
Boy: Really? Why? What happened? How is she?
Voice: Her room number is 646 in building A, suite 3.
Boy: WHAT HAPPENED?!
Voice: Please come by, sir, and you can see her. Goodbye.
Boy: WAIT! NO!
THE BOY GOES TO HOSPITAL, AND TO ROOM 646, BUILDING A, SUITE 3. THE GIRL IS LYING IN THE HOSPITAL BED.
Boy: Oh my God, are you okay?
Girl: *silence*
Boy: Dear, talk to me!
Girl: I..
Boy: You what?
Girl: I have cancer and I’m on life support.
Boy: *breaks into tears*
Girl: They’re taking me off tonight.
Boy: Why?
Girl: I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t .
Boy: Why didn’t you tell me?
Girl: I didn’t want to hurt you.
Boy: You could never hurt me.
Girl: I just wanted to see if you felt about me the same as I felt about you.
Boy: Huh?
Girl: I love you more than anything. I would give you the world in a heartbeat. I would die for you and take a bullet for you.
Boy: *crying*
Girl: Don’t be sad. I love you and I’ll always be there with you.
Boy: Then why did you break up with me?
Nurse: Young man, visiting hours are over.
The boy leaves and later that night the girl is taken off of life support and dies, but what the boy didn’t know is that the girl only asked him those questions so she could hear him say it one last time. She only broke up with him because she knew she only had 3 more weeks left to live and thought that it would cause him less pain and give him time to get over her before she died.
NEXT DAY
The boy is found dead with a gun in one hand and a note in the other.
THE NOTE SAID:
“I told her that I would take a bullet for her, just like she said she would die for me.”

SECRET SHARED : ROMANCE WITH MY PILOT

By L.M Adeline

We made it down the short aisle. Standing in front of the cockpit door, she gave three quick knocks. A second later, a sandy-haired young man with thick glasses and a space between his front teeth poked his head out.

Oh dear

. I hated to admit that my shallow Southern heart sank, though I politely pulled my grin a little wider, reminding myself what the

C

in S.E.C.R.E.T. stood for. If my fantasy man wasn’t…

compelling

, I didn’t have to go through with the fantasy.

“Is this our lovely visitor?” he asked with a lisp.

Oh dear

.

“Yes,” the flight attendant said. “Miss Dauphine Mason, this is our multitalented First Officer Friar. Miss Mason is keen to see what goes on in here. It might help her with her fear of flying.”

“Ah, yes. Dispel the mystery and the fear disperses. That’s Captain Nathan’s specialty. He can show you around while I stretch my legs. Three’s a crowd in here! Good luck!”

After mangling all those S’s, First Officer Friar made a beeline to the back of the plane. Out the window in front was a dark sky; below, nothing but black water. The high whine of the engines masked the screams in my own head as my legs now turned to cement. Eileen nudged me through the narrow doorway.

“I’ll be back in a little while,” she said, looking at her watch. “Enjoy your flying lesson.” She shut the door behind her.

The pilot sat silhouetted in the window. The only thing I could see above the seat was the back of his head. He wasn’t wearing a jacket, only his white shirt, the muscles on his arms apparent beneath his sleeves as he flicked a number of switches from left to right on a panel in front of him. Thankfully, the white noise drowned out my pounding heart.

“Be with you in a moment, Dauphine. I just want to make sure autopilot’s running smoothly. A robot takes over for most of the flight from now on. A very smart one.” There it was. That accent again. The man from Security! The man with the sexy British accent! The air left my chest and the pressure squeezed my lungs. Feeling tantalized and terrified at that same time had a bad effect on my stomach. I slapped both hands on the curved walls of the cockpit to steady myself as the plane rose and straightened. The pilot faced a wall of lights and levers that seemed to blink and shift on their own. Then he finally turned his chair around, aviators off, brown eyes on me. I gasped. “Don’t worry, we’re on automatic, but we’re not going to be alone in here for long, so I apologize ahead of time for the furtive nature of our interlude,” he said, loosening the top button of his uniform. “But I need to know, before we continue with our tutorial on the safety of flight: Do you accept the Step, Miss Mason?”

I couldn’t believe this was happening. “Here? Now?”

“Yes. Here and now. Trust me when I say I can help you with your fear of flying. And a few other things too, I suspect,” he said, leaning back into the plush leather of his pilot seat, taking me in from bottom to top.

“I’ve never been in an airplane before,” I muttered, stalling.

“I understand that,” he said, steepling his fingers. “But you are doing a fine job of your first time.”

Standing four feet from a complicated instrument panel that the pilot was

no longer

facing, I watched dark clouds whip by the nose of the plane through the high, narrow windows.

“Are we…safe in here?”

“Very safe,” he said. “Safer than driving. Safer than almost any other activity you can do at hundreds of miles an hour, high in the air.”

“What if there’s turbulence?” I asked, just as we hit a little bump. I yelped. My arms flew up to grasp the ceiling.

He took it as a cue to gesture me over to him.

Here we go

! I slowly, carefully, closed the gap between us, and over his shoulder got a better view of the world before me. It was dusk, but light poked through the clouds, illuminating little towns and villages nestled in the foot of a mountain range. They looked like a strand of jewels dropped from a great height. It was beautiful, but still I felt gut- punched and queasy. Levers and buttons continued to move in a ghostly way all around us.

“Turbulence is just air pockets. The plane will ride through it. And I’m right here if anything goes awry.”

I stood above him now, his head level with my breasts. “Do you accept the Step?” Handsome face, kind eyes, great smell, manly hands, but the clincher truly was his beautifully tailored shirt. Terribly shallow, I know.

“Yes, I accept.”

“Then may I help you off with your knickers?”

I almost laughed out loud at the old-fashioned British word for panties. I was wearing a pencil skirt and pumps, and a button-up pink angora sweater. The low ponytail completed my ’50s-housewife-on-an-errand look. It couldn’t be helped; planning my outfits always calmed me, and today I needed to be calm.

“Tell me more about how safe I am,” I begged, as his warm hands gently undid the back of my skirt, letting it drop to the floor.

“Well, Dauphine,” he said, inching my panties, or “knickers,” down, “takeoff is the hardest part. So much can go wrong. But we’re well past that now.”

Standing before him, I closed my eyes. I could feel his fingers unbuttoning my sweater, easing it off my shoulders.

Ohh

.

“Now the middle part of flight,” he said, leaning forward to nuzzle my soft line of pubic hair, kissing it. “That’s the easiest…sweetest part of the ride. But still, you never want to get complacent. Sometimes it’s deceptively easy. You still need to be careful, to watch for subtle signals.”

I stood over him, my legs trembling. He reached back to undo my pink satin bra, slid it forward, and dropped it. Standing there naked, for a second

I forgot the plane was flying on its own

! It was black through the window. I wasn’t sure if we were flying over mountains or water, but I closed my eyes. If I couldn’t see it, it didn’t matter. I placed my hands on the ceiling again, pressing my body forward into him. He was so at ease, so in command as he gently urged my legs farther apart, reaching up to pinch and circle my nipples, like I was an instrument panel he knew exactly how to operate.

“How does the autopilot know what it’s doing?” I asked, so deeply aroused by his thumbs now expertly parting my cleft, I thought my knees would give.

“It listens to me. I tell it what to do and it follows my instructions,” he said, leaning forward to kiss my clitoris, now centered between his thumbs.

“Mmm, you taste so good, my darling,” he murmured, his fingers now joining his mouth, slowly gliding in and out, agonizing me. I felt every knuckle against my most tender parts, prodding my clitoris forward, as his mouth fully encircled me. I grabbed his head as it moved beneath me. Then I felt that rush, fast and hot, and the mounting energy as his urgent tongue fluttered and flicked, his fingers darting in and out. All I could do was shut my eyes and arch back, dying and shuddering as I exploded with a new kind of pleasure, moaning into the ceiling, his tongue lapping relentlessly at me, my hand over my mouth to muffle my cries.

TALES OF OUR FIRST ANNIVERSARY 

By KrisEdu

When we put the top of our wedding cake in the freezer (to be enjoyed at our first anniversary) we had a vague idea of what married life would be like. We had no idea that our first anniversary would see me with serious health concerns, pregnant, and my husband without a job. The celebration of that day made us truly appreciate each other and our marriage.

Because of our strict budget, I had planned to spend our anniversary at home. I was going to surprise my husband with a romantic dinner and then we would going to watch our wedding video while we ate the top of our wedding cake. Determined to find the perfect gift, I hopped on to eBay to see what I could find. I quickly discovered that the traditional first anniversary gift is paper, and as it happened, Metallica (both mine and my husband’s favorite rock band) was going to be playing two days after our anniversary in a city nearby. I jumped into bidding for the tickets with extra money from a side bartending job in hand. The bidding stopped about $20 short of my budget. I had found my “paper” gift – Metallica tickets. It looked like my plans were going to come off perfectly…boy, was I wrong!

I was disappointed when I took the cake out of the freezer only to find it had mold spots growing on it (I didn’t know we were supposed to wrap it in plastic wrap AND put it in a Tupperware container!). I began to get anxious when we couldn’t find our wedding videos anywhere. I really started panicking when the paper coupon book I had made to go with the tickets got destroyed by the dog. When I found out I had to have a rather major medical procedure the day after our anniversary and wouldn’t be able to attend the concert with my husband, I began to suspect a conspiracy.

I took the spare $20 and a picture of our wedding cake to a talented friend of mine, and she agreed to recreate the top for me. The evening of our anniversary, everything went off without a hitch. The romantic, candlelit dinner was superb. The wedding cake top was so perfect, my husband didn’t even suspect that it wasn’t the original. I had even managed to track down our wedding video, and my Mom sent it to me with 2 days to spare. When the time for gift giving came, I pulled out my envelope and handed it to my husband. When he opened the card and the tickets fell out, the look on his face was worth all the effort I had gone through. I explained that I had gotten the tickets before my medical procedure was planned so I couldn’t go. I told him I had spoken with his best friend who had agreed to take him.

His mouth just hung open – gaping like a fish. I began to worry that maybe he didn’t like the gift as much as I had thought. After what seemed like an interminable period of silence I finally asked, “Don’t you want to go?” He suddenly looked at me and grinned. He handed me my present saying, “I guess all the struggles this year have brought us closer than we thought … We really do know each other well.” Curious, I opened the envelope he had handed me. When I opened the card, two tickets fell out. With some extra money he had scrounged up, he bought me tickets to see Metallica as well. Because of his procrastination, he had waited to get the tickets until after my medical procedure had been planned. His tickets were a week away near where we had family we could stay with.

When people ask me the most romantic thing my husband has ever done, I usually shock them by saying something about a Metallica concert. Until I relate the whole story, they don’t understand that our first anniversary truly demonstrated the love we had for one another.

“Man Find Out All His 5 Kids Are Not His, 2 Are From His Family Doctor” – Apostle Suleman Reveals. GBAMLOG.COM

Apostle Johnson Suleman on his Twitter handle asks for people’s opinion as he tells the story of a man who recently realised that his two sons were not his biological children.

According to the popular cleric tweet which reads “A man suddenly found out his 5 kids are not entirely his…. 2 are from his family doctor who has been secretly having affair with his wife…he wants to divorce and send the kids away. thou he’s grown to love them so much… What do you think?…”

Apst Johnson Suleman

@APOSTLESULEMAN
A man suddenly found out his 5kids are not entirely his…2 are from his family doctor who has been secretly having affair with his wife..he wants a divorce and send the kids(9/11) away.tho he has grown to love them so much….WHAT DO YOU THINK?..
1,657
2:28 PM – Aug 14, 2019
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See reactions from Nigerians below;

Apst Johnson Suleman

· Aug 14, 2019
A man suddenly found out his 5kids are not entirely his…2 are from his family doctor who has been secretly having affair with his wife..he wants a divorce and send the kids(9/11) away.tho he has grown to love them so much….WHAT DO YOU THINK?..

Asiegbu Precious
@Itzpreshkeyz
First of all, the Bible doesn’t support divorce so that’s not an option for. The man. Secondly, the children have frown to know and love him as a father and I’m sure the man also loves them as his children, so I’ll advise he holds unto them and keep being that father figure.
3
8:53 AM – Aug 15, 2019
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Apst Johnson Suleman

· Aug 14, 2019
A man suddenly found out his 5kids are not entirely his…2 are from his family doctor who has been secretly having affair with his wife..he wants a divorce and send the kids(9/11) away.tho he has grown to love them so much….WHAT DO YOU THINK?..

kobiechie
@kobiechie1
He should keep them as his kids… The father love is there.. Being a father is not about the bloodline but the love shown toward a child
95
2:30 PM – Aug 14, 2019
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Apst Johnson Suleman

· Aug 14, 2019
A man suddenly found out his 5kids are not entirely his…2 are from his family doctor who has been secretly having affair with his wife..he wants a divorce and send the kids(9/11) away.tho he has grown to love them so much….WHAT DO YOU THINK?..

Remi Ibinola RIO
@reminola
He should humble himself and find out where he went wrong.
162
6:57 PM – Aug 14, 2019
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41 people are talking about this

Apst Johnson Suleman

· Aug 14, 2019
A man suddenly found out his 5kids are not entirely his…2 are from his family doctor who has been secretly having affair with his wife..he wants a divorce and send the kids(9/11) away.tho he has grown to love them so much….WHAT DO YOU THINK?..

Mutinta
@Mutinta59404658
Raising kids doesn’t mean they have to be yours,if he has grown to love them he can aswel decide to keep them it isn’t their fault at all,concerning the marriage!!!God hates divorce yes,but the decision is entirely up to him whether to keep his marriage or send her away
4
2:32 PM – Aug 14, 2019
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Apst Johnson Suleman

· Aug 14, 2019
A man suddenly found out his 5kids are not entirely his…2 are from his family doctor who has been secretly having affair with his wife..he wants a divorce and send the kids(9/11) away.tho he has grown to love them so much….WHAT DO YOU THINK?..

Jackson Rossett@ AfricanTrumpfan
@RossettJackson
I’ll visit a custody lawyer to find out what I can do to keep the kids. With all the love shared… it will be extremely difficult to let go. how do I live without them, where do I start from. I rather bear the pain and fight for ways to keep this children.
3
2:52 PM – Aug 14, 2019
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Apst Johnson Suleman

· Aug 14, 2019
A man suddenly found out his 5kids are not entirely his…2 are from his family doctor who has been secretly having affair with his wife..he wants a divorce and send the kids(9/11) away.tho he has grown to love them so much….WHAT DO YOU THINK?..

Donald Doo
@RealDonaldDoo
Being a father is not only about those who biologically yours, Sir, a lot of times people have grown to love and call people father or mother when they didn’t give birth to them.
God has blessed him with children, let him keep them.
92
2:41 PM – Aug 14, 2019
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Apst Johnson Suleman

· Aug 14, 2019
A man suddenly found out his 5kids are not entirely his…2 are from his family doctor who has been secretly having affair with his wife..he wants a divorce and send the kids(9/11) away.tho he has grown to love them so much….WHAT DO YOU THINK?..

Idahosa Omoregie
@__King_David
First thing first , he should ask the holy spirit for help . if he still loves the wife he can keep her because at least three kids are still his, for the other that are not his should know their father but if he wants to keep them he should get a legal claim for them by a lawyer
15
2:39 PM – Aug 14, 2019
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Marriage is an agreement between two people who have found love in each other and has decided to commit their relationship from just dating or courting, to tying the knot in a together forever journey.

To breach the contract of the agreement as far as marriage is concerned is to defile the bed by involving in adultery.

Hence, the action of the wife and the doctor is a total act of treachery, betraying the trust of the man and making him love and raise the children of another man, not just anyone but his family doctor, it is indeed heartbreaking.

With various suggestion coming from Nigerians on what the man should do, what do you suggest the man should and likewise what should be done to the woman?

Lets’s hear your opinion in the comments section below and don’t forget to like and share.

Source: dailyadvent.

REALITY: THE MOST TERRIFYING NIGHT OF MY LIFE

On August 3, 2000 one of my friends from high asked me to ride along with him to meet a girl who he found online. I’m always up for an adventure, so I agreed. I knew that it was quite a drive, about 10 hours, but I didn’t mind at all. We left in the evening and drove all night, got there in the morning, and left that evening. Neither one of us slept a wink. On the way back we were about 15 miles west of a small town when I was asleep. He was going well over the speed limit when he decided to pull over to switch driving. Right when we got onto the shoulder we went over the top of a small hill which was blocking sight to the road ahead. Right when we got over the top of the hill he saw a truck parked on the shoulder. He tried to get back on the interstate, but there was a semi there, so he instinctively jerked the wheel to get off of the road. We hit the end of the guardrail, that was when I woke up, took out 70 feet of it, and rolled onto the top. I looked at him and said “dude, that was f****** awesome,” we both laughed hysterically for a few minutes and unbuckled and fell on our heads. I found one shoe and the flashlight. I had to kick a window out to get out. I had no idea that the truck was there before us, so I started looking for the driver. When I looked into the driver’s window, I saw that the keys were still in the ignition. I knew that he was definitely somewhere around, so I kept looking. When I looked around the front of the truck I saw a blue rope that was tied around the tow hook and went over the top of a short wall. I assumed that he hit us and knocked something off of his truck and climbed down the rope to get it. When I looked over the wall, I got the shock of a lifetime. There was a dead body at the end of the rope, looking up at me. He looked like a demon. I’m not a person to freakout, but I definitely did. I jumped backwards into traffic. I almost got hit by a passing semi. He swerved around me, pulled over, jumped out, and asked me “what the f*** are you doing?” I was still in a panic and said “there’s a dead guy over there.” He said “f*** this, I’m out of here.” Then he jumped in his truck and left. We looked at each other and said, that sucks. He called 911 and told them that we needed help, then called his parents and told them where we were and that we needed help. Then I called my mom and said, mom were ok. Then the phone dropped the call and wouldn’t call back. We were really out in the middle of nowhere. We sat there for an hour and a half waiting for the cops when a security guard pulled up, got out, and very calmly asked if we were ok. I assumed that she knew what happened, so I said he’s over there and pointed to the front of the truck. She looked over the wall and had a bigger panic attack than I did. She ran back to her car, grabbed the radio, and yelled, “we need everyone out here now!” Fifteen minutes later when the first cop showed up he looked around and said “you guys are under arrest.” I was shocked and said “woah woah woah, wake up dumbass, if we would have killed him then why would his truck be upside down over there and these tire marks show that he intentionally jerked the truck off of the road to miss hitting that truck?” He thought for a second and said “huh, you make a good point, you guys are ok.” They flipped the truck back over and cut the guy down. Then he asked if we were ready to go. I said that we had to stay there because he told his parents that we were going to be there waiting for them. He said “ok, have it your way.” Then everyone left. I had nightmares about it for years.

Storystar, where short story writers are the stars!
https://www.storystar.com/story/12389/brandon/true-life/survival-success-2

Analysis on Matiiku by Chiedozie Ude. GBAMLOG.COM

Ude, Chiedozie Orji.
Department of English, UNILAG

Analysis on Matiiku

It is no news that trying to analyse a live performance is a tricky job. This trickiness may be as a result of different factors such as place and time— or more impressive, the complex nature of literature. Notwithstanding this difficulty, this paper will make an attempt to critically analyse the stage play entitled Matiiku. This essay will succinctly summarise the play and its subject matter, making use of factors such as the stage management and the gestures (which some may refer to as body language) of the actors to defend the choice of subject matter. The attention that will be paid to the factors stated above stems from the technical nature of the dialogue — that is, it was, to a very large extent, exclusively performed in the Yoruba language. However, the focus on the gestures and stage management does not in any way downplay the usefulness of the dialogue in this analysis because its importance in making the play fit its setting, and also, its subject matter cannot be overlooked. Also, it is important to note that this essay will include foreign references — that is, events or even books outside the narrative — which will be used support the arguments expressed in this paper. All these will be combined to comprehensively analyse this play.

This segment of the essay will comment on the playwright and the setting of the play. Not much is known about the playwright; hence, we move on to the setting of the play. The play is set during the colonial era, and this is reinforced through the manner in which the stage was set, and the numerous festivities which took place — the market scene; the baby/ritual scene; and the court dispute between the colonial district officer and the people. The latter is unarguably the strongest supporter of the claim that the play is set during the colonial era because it not only captures the communication problems that plagued the colonial masters due to their inability to grasp the local languages employed by their subjects, but also captures the presence of the white man (The district officer); hence, justifying the time setting— that is, the colonial period. The place setting of the play is Lagos. The introduction of three characters at the beginning of the play who represent the three white-cap chiefs of Lagos is testament to this fact. They, unequivocally, strengthen the play’s genre — that is, a historical play.

The subject matter of the play revolves around a man, who was predestined to be king, right from birth. This information was exposed by the narrator, before the start of the play. Hence, one can say that the plot of the play is based on the child, whom the oracle chooses as king. As expected, he becomes the king of Lagos once he attains adulthood; although, the colonial government later wrestled power from him. It is important to state that the fulfillment of the prophecy on the life of the king is a common motif in Yoruba themed plays— that is, the oracle can never be wrong— such as Ola Rotimi’s The Gods are Not to Blame, where the pronouncements of the oracle on the main character comes to pass. Therefore, one can be justified to state that there is a theme of fate (inevitable destiny) in the play. Another thing that is worthwhile to discuss is how the scenes in the play are linked by an interlude of music and dance. These performances (music and dance) may be regarded as entertaining because of the choreographic dance steps employed by the dancers. Being a traditional play, these songs should have deeper meanings, but that is not the focus of this essay. So, this analysis will rate the musical interlude from the standpoint of pleasure and entertainment.

One may describe the stage management as almost impeccable due to the perfect way the stage was set to represent the setting, and also, their flawless deployment of the lighting technique. To me, it is this lighting technique that makes the play stand out. The lights came up when and where necessary, not a second too early or late. Unarguably, the lighting technique was most effective when it was employed to show time — that is, day and night. This topnotch use of this technique is also brought to the fore when the lights were dimmed during the ritual scene. The solemnity and sacredness of the rituals were well captured by the eerily spooky umbrella of semi-darkness. This was enough to make the watcher understand the importance of these rituals. Another important thing I noticed due to the arrangement of the stage is the market scene. The market scene is crucial in traditional plays. The market is known as a place where rumours and stories thrive. Little wonder the birth of the would be king is announced in the market setting. The market scene is also ideal for announcement of the king’s birth because it reinforces Soyinka’s principle in Death and the King’s Horseman of the market place being a strategic location for the meeting of the three realities in Yoruba mythology — that is, the world of the unborn; the world of the living; and the world of the dead. It is important to note that the market place also serves as a link between these realities. Hence, this well believed myth strengthens the writer’s use of the market scene to announce a transition — that is, from the world of the unborn to the world of the living. The stage management was described as almost impeccable at the beginning of the paragraph because it had slight flaws. One of such flaws is the bad sound systems used in the play. Aside this, one can be justified to give the stage management crew an excellent score for a job well done.

Also, the gestures of the actors also enable non speakers of the Yoruba language to have an insight on some of the happenings in the play. The slow pace, with which those who are to make prophecies on the child move, gives insight to the audience that these men must be truly special and of high importance in the society. The greatness which is proclaimed on the baby is evident when the priests and other spectators bow to the child. However, the child’s mother refuses to bow to her child; hence, bringing into play the African belief that expects a child to prostrate himself to his parents, and not the other way round.

In conclusion, if I were asked to give my personal opinion on the play, I would rate it as a largely successful performance. The topnotch techniques employed by the stage management crew played a huge role in this. As a member of the audience who could not fully grasp the dialogues, I was entertained by the dance interlude. Hence, I can boldly describe the play as a successful one. In conclusion, this essay has made an attempt to analyse the production of the play Matiiku.

Works cited:
Ola Rotimi’s The Gods are Not to Blame.
Wole Soyinka’s Death and the King’s Horseman.