Showing posts with label kingwax oluwadamilare. Show all posts
Showing posts with label kingwax oluwadamilare. Show all posts

Monday, 12 September 2016

CHANGE BEGINS WITH YOU!!



When it comes to collection researches and amassing knowledgeables, Nigerians are the most lazy set of people in this world.

Unlike the popular saying, 'do not believe everything you read in the newspapper', Nigerians practically believe everything they read on paper.

Apart from the junk journalism that is the order of the day- (that traits of laziness runs with their blood), the Nigerian media is blessed with unintelligible assertions, bigotry conclusions and ethno-sentimental headliners!!!

The oil producing world is currently in recession, but the only ones surviving are those who have saved for the raining day.

Venezuela, and import-dependent country like ours and currently one of the world largest exporter if crude oil, is currently enjoying the worst time of their history; more than 20,000 of their citizens had to cross over to Columbia to buy food!

What Nigerian wants is to demand for positive change, but they never wanna be part of the process.

Mind you, i never voted for buhari nor Jonathan, but, when Nigerians say, 'Buhari is associates with hardship', it is understandable, why they would day that. People, who called themselves 'elites' and 'stakeholders', expected to be intelligent, would grand press interviews and demand the president to 'reverse his policies and give Nigerians, the change they promised'!

A little reason for our current state could have been understood via a simple research if the previous history and how we found ourselves at this junction.

In 1984/85, when buhari decided to implement the policies he is currently implementing, because at that time, we have started to rely more on importation, people gnashed their teeth and cursed him for creating hardship.

Yet, our paper mills, texile industries, rubber plantations, timbers and so much more, were fading away. People relied more on importation of ready ready-made goods.

And when he was overthrown via a successful coup and IBB installed himself as the president, people rejoice.

IBB came in, just because business wasn't as usual, and the West weren't happy with a young president who was trying to do the right thing. Just like Mugabe and Gaddafi were hated, so was buhari, for trying to make us independent.

SAP, was the foundation of every problem we ever had...it was the epitome and pioneer of corruption. IBB, knowing exactly that he could only be popular by giving impatient Nigerians what they wanted, started subsidizing everything importable. Nigerians were happy that cheap processed foods flooded the market and slowly watched as every indigenous industry died away.

Our naira began to depreciate because we buy from others and strengthened other nations, while ours became weak. Gradually, we died away.

IMF offered loans that could be repaid over a long period but kept us weak and enslaved.

As of today, we have trees but imports paper, toothpick, pencil...

We have rubber trees but plastic companies import raw materials...

Cereal producing companies imports grains..

Our crude oil is exported to be refined and we pay thru the nose to import again!

Corruption is the order of the day. Nothing was allowed to work so as to keep the string hands enriched.

This is madness and no one seems to know why we are really in recession.

Like I said, the oil producing world is currently in recession and the only countries that is surviving, like Saudi Arabia and Canada, are the ones who are well industrialized and or have saved for this day. They are growing more if their foreign reserve by exportation.

We have few dollars in our coffer as foreign reserve, yet, some idiots criticize the ban on some foreign imports that could be sourced locally.

Whether it is the sheer manifestations of the popular low IQs, even among the so called learned, or it is the wanton natuaral characteristic of an average Nigeria to be stoical, that makes them not to understand this little 'mental sums'.

It's simple mathematics for the sensible ones..

If you take out of your money to buy what you have within, you are strengthening the seller and weakening yourself. But when you also produce what u can sell, you will add to your savings and become more richer..

Forcing manufacturers to look within will further enrich the citizens instead of making them poorer. When u import, you enrich the foreigner and sell to a depleted economy after production. When you source within, you enrich the economy and will sell cheaper to the citizens.

The reason why prices are on the roof is because manufacturers are still forcefully importing instead if looking within. They source for dollars illegally and still go ahead to import what they would process that could have gotten within the country- thereby increasing the costs of production.

China and India didn't yank themselves from the grip of the Western world buy going back on their policies, even when they once ranked as one of the poorest countries in the world, decades ago.

The uncanny willingness of most manufacturers, to still opt for importation for production is not based on the imaginary non existing 'substandard local products', but of total corruption that has been a parasite in their everyday thinking!

Nigeria will remain poor if someone doesn't take drastic action!

CHANGE, REALLY BEGINS WITH YOU!!!


Wednesday, 17 August 2016

RANDOM THOUGHTS- ALL LIES




Hi, welcome; welcome to my random thought, for our sake, I hope you don’t get confused.

Today, I woke up at the left side of my bed (that supposedly superstitious bad side of the bed) and got mad with everything. First, I nearly believed I could have a nightmare- the nightmare was so dark and evil that I had to wake up with a frown. Every sound that I woke up to was so irking and irritating that my skin itches.

I woke up on the same bed, same room, with a heat all over the room because of the ceiling fan that doesn’t work, for as usual- no power supply. It seems nothing has changed and nothing may never change.

The sound that woke me up was from outside my window was from some jobless bachelors like me, who were arguing over some very stupid and frivolous matter! The noises were so maddening and loud that it woke me from my lovely dream, turning the beautiful dream into a nightmare- because in the dream, my troubles were all gone.

I was living in a mansion with constant electricity, running water, beautiful girls and a lot of money. You could imagine my frustration when I woke to the same old life- no job, no power supply and no money! My mouth was so heavy and stuffed with odour that it bulged with foul gases! If it were in my dream, I would have walked into the bathroom, turn or press the tap and wash it all off! But these idiots made me remember that I had to go outside, walk many meters and use my energy in fetching water from the well!

Right on my bed, I decided to think about their argument and what it really was. Though, they were Actors and actresses and which one is better that which other, but little did they know that calling these set of people actors and actresses is just a hocuspocus; these people could be called pretenders or liars because they make a living by lying to the whole world. You call it acting, but it’s simply lying.

How else does one describe a group of people pretending to be what they are not just to get paid? How do you explain the death of an actor in a movie and his reappearance in another one- hale, healthy, like he was never dead? I mean, I won’t be mad if he had reappeared as a ghost or a zombie in a new movie- that is understandable, right? But he is all there in the new movie like a fresh baby!

The last time Emeka Ike died in one movie that I watched, I cried because I liked him as an actor, but I had to run for safety when I met him in a shopping mall some weeks later. I shouted that he was a ghost and people looked at me like a madman. How so?

I once watched a movie about a young man whose mother died after giving birth to him and his father murdered over a land. It had the potential of being a great movie until they spoil the whole fun for me! The infant was crawling underneath the table and suddenly became a 25 years old guy looking for something underneath the same table! Jesus! This happened just within 30 minutes of the movie! I mean, if this happened after 25 hours of watching the movie, I could still deal with that!

The worst is when they made it look like the world is just so lawless-people driving cars like maniacs, destroying properties and shooting on the streets, yet no police! The bad guy leaves traces and heaps of dead bodies while trying to kill the good guy but he was still able to walk high on the same street!

Have you a seen where the bad guys suddenly cannot get an aim at the good guy even after shooting thousands of bullets, only for the good guy to raise his head, point his pistol and shoot them down- one by one. I bet you can see the bullets hitting objects besides and all over him except him. And he must be so cool while the bullets were flying that he had to talk, give instructions, aim and shoot them down. Oh, more funny is when the bullets hit him, it must be his leg, shoulder or a pass through! And hey, don’t be surprised when he started running with that same leg or swinging a killer punch with the affected arm!
Oh! Common, give me a break!

I understand that the world of full of deceit, but why would some set of people write out a whole script of lies for some individuals to direct, some to produce and others to act it out? All to sell to us and get paid. I mean, that cruelty is out of this world- selling out a lie! I mean, how low can one get?
Well, if you must know, lying is a sin and all lairs must go to hell. You don’t have to believe in hell but hell yeah- it exists.

After an excruciating minutes of listening to these arguments across my window, I decided to go back to sleep, to drown myself in the euphoria of my ex-beautiful dream. I remembered the word of my great grandma and the exact instructions on how to go back to the dream you were having before being obstructed. I stood up, closed my window to block the noises from the arguing morons and took a chalk from my drawer. I drew a big circle on the floor- big enough to house me in a sleeping position. I opened the fridge and took out some ginger. I cut it in seven places and placed it all around the circle- three at the direction of my head, two below my feet and one each side. Then I took a spinach and chewed. I spat in my hand, rubbed them together and rubbed in all on my face.

Comfortably, I slept in the circle with a smile- great grandma can never be wrong. I have believed all she had ever told me. The reminisced on the dream as directed and ensure I stayed in it. My reason of going back wasn’t all about the money or the big mansions- but there was this beautiful swarthy with a big booty and some moderate boobs. She was all over me and was ready to go all down with it. I must go back, that mission must be accomplished.

Brethren, by the time I opened my eyes, hoping to wake on my bed in the mansion, I found myself in hell! I couldn’t believe that great grandma, a whole ancestor of mine, also sold me a lie.


email: kingwax.oluwadamilare@gmail.com

Monday, 13 June 2016

FOUR SIMPLE STEPS TO GET ADSENSE APPROVAL

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4. Your Blog Design must be simple. You do not need a complex design. Adop a KISS prinicple.

KISS is an acronym for "Keep it simple, stupid". The KISS principle states that most systems work best if they are kept simple rather than made complicated; therefore simplicity should be a key goal in design and unnecessary complexity should be avoided.

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I WISH YOU BEST OF LUCK!!!

Wednesday, 4 May 2016

CHAPTER 3: THE FATE THAT NEVER WAS

CHAPTER 3


Emeka’s eyes were swollen, red and like a brimstone, but this time, it wasn’t due to smoking or drinking, he has been crying his eyes out. If there were any begging position, he had already been there. But now, he prostrated on the floor, still begging Hannah to forgive him.

He has been begging for two days now, but Hannah had insisted that it was over. Something Emeka couldn’t take himself to bear. The first time Hannah said that, he almost drank himself to death. Even his friend, Ade, was unable to rescue him from the plank.

“You got to understand, please!” He kept repeating the verse like it mattered to Hannah, who was apparently not worried about the break up.

“Oh, I understood you the first time you explained, but you didn’t understand my own point, did you?” Hannah asked without looking at his wet face. She sat comfortably on the plastic chair with legs crossed, filing her nails that doesn’t need filing.

“Blessing is not more a problem, I promise you.” Emeka pleaded again.

“See, Emeka, when you approached me for a relationship, six months ago, I told you I can’t be with you unless you do away with… with that wretched girl! Everybody knows her background with her holier-than-thou attitude, just because her parents were pastors. She is poor, her parents are poor, and she is even a squatter because last time we heard, Bukky was the one paying for the hostel and she had never contributed a dime!”

“I swear, if you forgive me this time, I will never go back to her.”

“Yeah, heaven will come if I believe you this time. You know,” she stopped filing her nails, uncrossed her legs and bent from her chair to face Emeka, “the last time, she thanked you for being gentle with her while taking her virginity. This time, she missed you and will love to sleep over at your place. You know, I could only thank my stars that I had your phone with me on these two occasions, otherwise, you would have fooled me twice!"

“This time, I swear, it is over!” Emeka held onto Hannah’s legs.

Hannah yanked herself from him and walked to the window. “The worst part is, that wretched Blessing would have been bragging about you being hers, when I was bragging that you dumped her for me. Being in the same class with that wretched girl is shameful enough!”

“I am begging you. I cannot do without you, I swear!” Emeka sniffed and cried without leaving his position.

“The only way I can redeem my glowing image is to let everyone know that I dumbed you!”

Emeka assumed a kneeling position and walked on his knees to where Hannah was standing, he held on her skirt. “I don’t care if you told everyone that you dumbed me, but I am going to have nothing to do with Blessing anymore!”

“And how does that solve this whole issue?” Hannah turned to him.

“You know, I have just three months left in this university before my final papers, after which we can be together again.”

Hannah refused, and Emeka begged on.

*******************

“How is she?” Ade asked as he came into the hostel room.

“Still the same thing.” Bukky, who sat by a shivering Blessing answered Ade.

“That’s bad.” Ade said. “No improvement?”

“If you meant ‘after you left’, then, no.” Bukky replied.

Ade came forward to feel Blessing’s forehead. He quickly removed his hand. “Jesus! She burning up! Shouldn’t we take her to the school clinic?”

“She refused.”

“I don’t think she has much of a choice.” Ade said and moved towards Blessing’s bed, raised her arm and dropped it like a referee during a wrestling match. “She looks dead.”

Bukky scoffed. “She’s not dead.” She said and padded Blessing’s forehead with a wet towel.

“I am not dead.” Blessing said without opening her eyes. “Just get me my Emeka.”

“Is that what this is?” Ade was surprised.

“Yes, just get me Emeka and I will be fine.”

“I told you.” Bukky said.

“But I don’t know where he is?” Ade lied.

“You’re his friend, just help us find him.” Bukky shouted.

“Alright, alright, I will try and do that.” Ade replied uneasily. He started to think. Emeka doesn’t wants to be found, but it is looking as though he has no choice.

“Ade!” Bukky shouted his name.

“What? Why shouting my name? I am right here!”

“No, you were not. I called you three times.”

“You did?”

“Yes, she did.” Blessing replied to Ade’s question.

“What were you thinking? Did you know where your friend is?” Bukky asked Ade who denied.

Blessing sat up. “Ade, please.”

“What is the problem with you girls, huh? I told you I will look for him, okay? Take care of yourselves.” He said and both girls watched him leave.

END OF CHAPTER 3

Friday, 29 April 2016

CHAPTER 1: THE FATE THAT NEVER WAS (PART 1)

This story is a young adult fictional piece, written by KINGwax Oluwadamilare. All rights reserved.



CHAPTER 1

Emeka’s eyes was like a brimstone- they owed that to the many rounds of beer the holder of the eyes has consumed. He did not seemed to worry him a bit, but it worried his friend, Ade, who sat beside him, trying to make him stop, after many bottles- twelve, to be precise.

“I think you should stop here.” Ade pleaded. “Please.”

Emeka looked at his friend without a word, but his eyes pierced Ade’s soul. He tried to raise his hand as a signal for another drink, but, Ade quickly stopped it midair and brought it back on the table with an angry slam that sent the empty green bottles rolling on the table.

Ade, just realizing that he would be breaking some of the bottles, tried to stop the ones that were trying to find their way to the floor of the drinking area, but he only has two hands and could only hold two in his hands. The sound of broken bottles drew all eyes to their position.

“You do realize you will pay for that, right?” Emeka finally found his voice.

Ade balanced the two bottles on the table and his eyes were quick to caught Emeka’s hand as they were coming down. It was no rocket science, he already signaled for another drink.

“You’re not going to have that drink while I am still here, Emeka!” Ade got angry.

“And who’s going to stop me?” Emeka asked.

“I told you, Emeka, you are not going to have that… hey, hey…!” Ade cut himself short and sprang from his seat. He stopped the barman midway. “Who has these drinks?” He asked the barman.

The barman scoffed and answered him reluctantly, “your friend of course.”

“Which one?”

“What kind of question is this? The same one who broke the bottles over there. You were talking to him just now.” The barman replied.

“So, after you had bottled him down to thirteen…”

“Twelve.”

“What?” Ade asked.

“Twelve bottles, not thirteen.”

“And now, you’re going to add another four?” Ade asked as his eyes bulged at the fresh green bottles, sweating profusely in the basket the barman was holding.”

The barman shrugged and said it was his choice, not his. Ade begged him to let him take his friend home, but the barman asked if he was the one paying.

“My friend, over there,” Ade pointed to Emeka, “has a problem- a problem that he wouldn’t solve even if he drank himself to death.”

The barman said it was not his problem. And before they could continue, Emeka was right behind them.

“What is the problem here?” He asked as he balanced himself with the steel column at Ade’s back.

The barman explained to Emeka, who only smiled.

“Did you realize that he broke some bottles back there?” Emeka asked the barman who said he thought it was Emeka who broke them.

Emeka said it wasn’t him and he is not going to pay for it.

“Well, then, I have to collect the money for the bottle or the manger will have to deduct my salary. And that will never happen” The barman stretched his palm to Ade who looked at Emeka.

Ade whispered to Emeka, “You know I have no money on me here. Why are you doing this?”

Emeka chuckled and said to the barman, “You heard him?”

The Barman shook his head with a large frown.

“Well, Emeka began, “he said he’s not going to pay a dime!”

“What…? Emeka, why did you….See,” Ade turned to the barman, “he’s my friend, and he will pay you, okay? He’s just joking.”

The barman looked at Emeka who shook his head.

“Listen, I will have to be a little bit rough with you, my friend. Your phone will be held until you pay back that money!” The barman coldly told Ade and summoned the security, who appeared bored and suddenly excited that he was going to beat someone for the day’s entertainment.

Ade began to sweat. “See, I will talk to him, I will get you your money.”

 After Emeka was satisfied with the humiliation he gave his friend, he finally agreed to pay for the broken bottles, only if Ade is bounced out of the tavern. Ade couldn’t believe himself, but he was glad.

“Mr.,” The barman started, “I know you look like a gentlemen, I will ask…”

“No need for that, I will leave.” Ade said. He turned to his friend, “I want you to know that if you destroy yourself because of a lady, you do not have anyone to blame about that. It is on you!” He finished and started walking out of the plank- the name popular tavern.

Emeka scoffed and made to return to his seat, but he slipped and fell on a nearby table, full of empty bottles. The barman did helped him up, but not without first chuckling at the foolish man.

“You have broken more bottles, Sir.” The Barman said. I hope you…”

“How many?” Emeka asked as he was guided to his seat.

“The barman looked back and scooped in a figure, “Ten, I guess.” HE said and hoped Emeka wouldn’t see it was only three.

“How much?”

“One thousand, five hundred naira.” He said and Emeka said it’s okay, he will pay.

The barman clenched his teeth in regret and hoped he had said the figure was twenty. Nevertheless, as he guided Emeka to his table, he deliberately placed the bottles at the edge of his table and hoped he broke more of them!

END OF CHAPTER 1

*cover art by Niki de saint phalle art artist

Tuesday, 12 April 2016

HOW TO IDENTIFY AND AVOID VANITY PUBLISHERS AS AN ASPIRING/UPCOMING WRITER

www.pxleyes.com


It is no news that every writer would love to get published, but what most of us failed to realize is that, as an aspiring and upcoming writer, we must understand one thing- we are an easy target!

I am sorry that I have to be that blunt about it, but how else does one say the truth without saying the truth?

Many so called ‘publishers’ will hijack your work, trash you and your work, tell you to forget about writing, tell you to bring a fortune for editing or publishing and so on. You will be put in a snooker, such that you will forget that you even have an option.

But believe me, not all these vanity publishers are so harsh with the way they respond to your submission, some of them are so nice, until they get hold of your manuscript.

WHO IS A VANITY PUBLISHER/HOW CAN YOU RECOGNISE THEM?

Vanity (or subsidy) publishers are what we can call ‘a glorified printing press owners’. Someone just got the opportunity to own a lovely printing press and viola, he calls himself a publisher just because he is in the art of obtaining ISBN for the unsuspecting writers!

These people set up companies and employ some editors who will proofread your manuscripts and most times, have no idea of what you were even trying to pass on. Vanity publishers don’t even have time to read your manuscripts- they rarely do. The moment they see your mail, and probably your synopsis and your three sample chapters (which was never read because they don’t really care about you), they will send you a nice reply about how the board of editors have passed your book for the final editing and how you will be contacted if your manuscript is to be considered for publishing. Be rest assured, it will be.

Now, after congratulating you about ‘your manuscript meeting their publishing standard’ (if ever they had any) and how it is being considered for publication, you will be asked to send the WHOLE MANUSCRIPT for the editor’s perusal (please, don’t) and a publishing agreement will be forwarded to you for your rejection or acceptance. You will definitely be thrown a bait of the popular 70% royalty on every sale too!

Now, don’t get it twisted, real publishers will require these too…

But the main focal point to identify a vanity publisher is that, “you will be required to pay a small fee as commitment before your book is published”. By the time they give you a price, you wouldn’t realize that it had already covered the cost of printing the required numbers of copies they promised to print (exactly what you paid for)!

Now, let us stop here and get some air.

Vanity publishers don’t care if your work meets any standard, and your manuscript is not even safe (especially if it is not copyrighted). All they wanted to do is their job- print and make profit. But after 500 copies (or whatever you paid for) have been delivered, your books will probably ‘not leave their shelf’.

For the marketing aspect, vanity publishers will provided with a free blog and hosted at a very cheap price- all within your payment! If you happened to make good sales after you are left to put in every last effort on marketing, good for them- not you, because the 30% that belongs to them is a plus, after the initial profit of printing. And worst still, you must have already entered a contractual agreement whereby, if your book ever made unexpected headlines, you are indirectly advertising them for a job you paid for, and helping them make more money.

They probably call themselves publishers because they have helped your lazy and ignorant self, purchase an ISBN for your book, registered in their name too. So, technically, they are profit-partakers of your work and owing part of the copyright. So, when you get lucky and either got a bigger book deal or a movie deal, don’t forget, you’ve got partners whom you’ve paid to help you print, collect ISBN and still waiting ripping you off by sharing in the profit!

Note that whoever owns the ISBN owns the book and the author.

SO, HOW DO YOU AVOID THEM?

Like I said, all steps involved, from submitting a manuscript and accepting to publish you, are real until they ask for the whole manuscript without a pre-contract. So,

1. Never send your manuscript without you getting an ISBN. This is very cheap, and the process is quite simple. Contact the copyright house in your locality. If you cannot afford this, ensure that your manuscript is published online (at your own risk), self-published (even if you won’t sell a copy of it, it will still be registered as a published book) or simply send a copy of the manuscript to yourself or friends by mail (they may not open it, but it will have a date and time as reference).

Vanity publishers employ ghoat writers who, with your synopsis and sample chapters, will rewrite your good story!

2. Don’t sign any stupid agreement that requires you to pay before you get published.

3. Don’t pay before or after you are being considered for publication.

ANOTHER WAY TO IDENTIFY VANITY PUBLISHERS IS TO IDENTIFY THE REAL PUBLISHERS

1. That will offers to take on the publishing and major marketing expenses;
2. That are ready to assign you an editor to take you through your whole editing experience and;
3. Ready to meet with you or your agent to discuss terms and agreement.
4. They may offer you a pre-contract before asking for the whole manuscript (pre-contract is not necessary, but you may be asked to sign an agreement for the safety of your manuscript) and
5. Will be ready to give you (not a whole 70% of sales but maybe far lesser because they are the one taking on the expenses including major marketing) your royalty.
6.     Real (traditional) publishers will show the zeal to publish your manuscript if they feel it will bring in profit through sales, thus, they are always ready to spend their money and make it go places while you are made ready to read the excerpts to book clubs, sign autograph and rake in royalties with less effort.

So, dear readers, before you are being deceived by Printers who brand themselves as publishers, think twice and do not be in a hurry or you will be left to market your books at car parks just to break even (if you ever will).

Printers already made their profit the moment you pay them to print the numbers of copies that your payment covers, and you will do all the marketing for them.
Do not bring down your guard or write off yourself because they believed you cannot make it in the outside world- who says?

Remember, keep writing, and keep getting better.

Thank you.

Monday, 28 March 2016

DESTINY: AN INEVITABLE VIRUS

How shall we succeed? How shall we make it in life? How can we escape the writhing unexpected outcome of our effort?

Life, a very funny program that works hand-in-hand with fate. Many times, I am left to wonder who the architect is. When life and fate combine, we have destiny- a synergy and a program that acts like a virus, corrupting every plan and dishing out new and surprising outcome.

Destiny, a program that works like an electricity- your ignorance or literary prowess doesn't matter, you get burnt by it. You don't even have to believe in a higher power. What I heard is that you can't escape it.

Sometimes, when I think about life and how it all turned out to be for me, or for some other people, I hiss. I don't marvel or get surprised. I have learnt to understand that that virus will always manifest, no matter how hard, how well or how beautiful you have written your program codes. By the time you want to run it, the virus always comes in. I want to believe that no matter how you plan, you can't outwit destiny.

Look at it this way- many times, people look at others and within seconds, they could write them off, tell them on or even forecast their future.

Watching some kids in my poor neighborhood, I loved to guess who has a future and who doesn't. But yet, experience and observations made me understand that a surprise, like a twist in every good movie, is always around the corner.

"Oh, he's just farm boy, an  illiterate with a slim chance of a stable future," we say.

But then,

"Who would have thought this boy could make it? He was just farm boy, tending to cow and pigs when I knew him." We may be prepared to say in the nearest future.

There's no need to try and act like a saint and say we never look down on people cos we did- maybe once. And most of us who have decided to stop this already know better than to try and foresee what was not.

This virus is real: forget what you think you know.

I am not in any way suggesting that you stop trying, but don't take it too hard on yourself if it doesn't work out as you've planned it. And I am not asking you to give up if it doesn't work as planned, I am only asking you to retry and maybe it was programmed to work the second time, the third, fourth...or maybe not.

Life + fate = destiny.

And destiny is the virus that corrupts every plan or assist it...

But keep on trying, maybe when you press enter to run the code you have written, you will escape this virus and your program will be a success. And if doesn't, pls retry- because in rewriting this code, in retrying, we are bound to succeed. Maybe not.

Friday, 11 March 2016

CHAPTER 18: BLOOD ON THE ALTAR

YOU CAN PURCHASE THE FULL EDITED NOVEL AT THE STORES BELOW:



http://www.bookateria.net/books/blood-on-the-altar/

http://okadabooks.com/book/about/10844

FOR MORE INFO, CONTACT ME VIA: +2347035593128



also, join our free webinar and learn how to write fiction by liking this page

www.facebook.com/oludare007

Monday, 7 March 2016

CHAPTER 17 (PART TWO ): BLOOD ON THE ALTAR

YOU CAN PURCHASE THE FULL EDITED NOVEL AT THE STORES BELOW:



http://www.bookateria.net/books/blood-on-the-altar/

http://okadabooks.com/book/about/10844

FOR MORE INFO, CONTACT ME VIA: +2347035593128



also, join our free webinar and learn how to write fiction by liking this page

www.facebook.com/oludare007

Sunday, 28 February 2016

CHAPTER 12 & 13: BLOOD ON THE ALTAR

THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME AND COMMITMENT.
YOU CAN NOW PURCHASE BLOOD ON THE ALTAR BY CLICKING HERE
THANK YOU

Chapter 12


THREE WEEKS’ LATER

The day was a Sunday, and as usual, the Choirs converged at the basement for their morning rehearsals and prayers. There was nothing unusual about the ritual except the presence of Sarah, a fugitive whom no one, except Blessing knows why she has been running from the Choir. Everyone was on her, but she was already armed with a perfect lie as a backup for her sudden disappearance.
At the gallery, since the service hasn’t started, during the morning rehearsals, most Choir members charges their phones there. But this faithful Sunday, something unusual happened, that was different from the presence of Sarah. After the morning rehearsal, Sister Sarah announced a missing phone.

“Maybe you didn’t bring it along. Have you tried calling your line? You may have forgotten it at home?” Rucks suggested.

“Sister Rucks,” Sarah called her, “I clearly said I was charging my phone at the gallery, and you’re talking about me ‘forgetting it at home’?”

“I’m sorry, but that was just a suggestion. By the way, I didn’t think anyone actually came up here after…”

“Well, since you seem to know this much, kindly explain how I got my phone missing. Look at the charger here,” she dangled it in her face and threw it at her feet. Rucks was taken aback by the sudden outburst.

“I didn’t say you didn’t bring your…”

“Well, you said that.” Bukky came in.

“And you said it right there,” she maintained and pointed to her previous position.

“Oho,” Sarah said, folding her arms.
There was silence, and the aura was tense. There were about six members of the Choir who had either come to the gallery to collect their phones or feed their ears. Eventually, they decided to go meet the Coordinator in his office.

“I don’t know what I can say to this,” he said, leaning back on his chair. “This is just embarrassing; I just hope this won’t get to the Pastor. And that is only if you guys behave as adults.”

“You mean to say if the thief returned the stolen phone?” Sarah asked with a scoff. The Coordinator nodded.

“You know that is not possible,” Sarah countered again. “Who do you think will return a stolen phone? Think about the embarrassment. She would rather not do that…”

“She?” The Coordinator interjected with a chuckle. “You can’t be sure the founder will be a she. We can’t say we are looking for a thief, we should rather say we misplaced it, and will appreciate whoever found and returned it.”

“I didn’t misplace my phone, and the thief is not a founder, a thief is a thief! Besides, the male members, just three of them anyway, went straight to the podium to arrange the musical instruments. None of them was upstairs. The thief is definitely a she!”

“So, who are you suspecting?”

“Sir, I am suspecting no one.”

“So, what are you suggesting then?”

“We search the bags.”

“Come on, that is embarrassing. We need to find another way…”

“There is no other way, Sir. And I got to do this before the Sunday school starts or else…”

“It is okay, it is okay, Sister Sarah.” The Coordinator said and checked his wristwatch. “It’s almost time for the Sunday School. You have just fifteen minutes to do that. I don’t want the Pastor to meet us in this mess.”

“Thank you, Sir.” Sarah said, and exited the Coordinator’s office. At the entrance, Bukky was waiting for her.

“So, what did he say?” She asked as they walked towards the Choirs’ area.

“He wanted me to check your bags,” She replied without stopping.

As they emerged inside the main auditorium, Bukky clapped her hands to gain the attention of the other members. Sister Bukky, a lousy dirty lady who was always left alone due to her incessant gossiping. She is fat, had no friends, not even Blessing was her friend. And she wasn’t alone because she was fat, but because she was always nosy, dirty, cheeky and lousy.

“We are here to catch the thief who stole…”

“Enough please,” Sarah stopped her.

“There is no ‘we’, okay?”

Bukky sighed and sullenly walked through the ambulatory to join the rest of the members standing in front of the altar.  The members all converged afar and watched as Sarah went into the Choir stalls and started ransacking the bags- one after the other. The males watched in silence, each one whispering. The suspense was all upon them, and as each bag was picked, hairs were raised in anticipation, and as each one was dropped, people sighed.

“I told her she didn’t bring her phone to Church, I saw her when she came in. she didn’t even bring a bag,” Rucks said again.

“You can’t be sure of that,” Bukky countered again. “Are you scared?” She asked Rucks, half smiling.

“Scared of what? “For your information, my bag has been checked, I don’t think yours has.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, Sister Rucks, she just dropped my bag too.” Bukky said with a smirk.

“Enough of this nonsense,” Blessing came in. “This is a total embarrassment and a shame. There is nothing to be proud of here. A colleague just came back after a brief illness and all you welcomed her with was to steal her phone.”

“She said she travelled,” Michelle said, calmly with folded arms.

“What?” Blessing asked, puzzled.
“Sister Sarah said she travelled.” She repeated herself.

Everyone was silent. Blessing looked uneasy and hated Michelle for making her look stupid in front of the others. Michelle continued,

“You said she was sick, but when I asked her, she said she travelled. That was why she hasn’t been around the…”

“Why don’t you just shut your mouth and start living on facts?”  Blessing snorted angrily, and the members gasped. “Did you visit her at all to know if she just told you she travelled just to keep you off her tail? I mean, everybody knows you are nosy….and proud!”

Bukky whistled and scratched her head. She looked at Michelle with a squint.

Michelle replied Bukky,“you know, that was why you had no friends!”

“I beg your pardon!” Bukky fought back. “Now, because you were able to get a job with a multinational company, courtesy of the tool between your legs, didn’t give you the permission to just talk to me that way. I wasn’t even the one who said you were nosy and cheeky. I was just a mere observer in all this matter.”

“The truth is, being my leader in this Choir, and being older than I am, coupled with the fact that I was also well brought up, I will not insult you,” Michelle said to Blessing who was expecting trouble.

Blessing hissed. She never liked Michelle for all the reasons she has refused to admit. She is beautiful, brilliant, has a good job, dresses nicely and she live large with a nice car. But she refused to admit that these have been the crux of her attitude towards Sister Michelle, instead, she simply maintained that Michelle was too proud.

“But you,” Michelle turned to Sister Bukky, “we all know you are a ‘nobody’ with a mental case.”

Rucks cleared her throat; she started fanning herself with her hand. “This is too hot.” She said with a smile.

“You are just a fool.” Bukky told Rucks who couldn’t control her laughter.

“Seriously?” Rucks said, “How did mine get into this matter. I was just observing.”

The whole member laughed aloud, but some, like Blessing refused to. Not that she cared what happened to Bukky, but she sure wasn’t comfortable with the easy getaway of Sister Michelle.

“Please, it is enough,” Blessing said.

“Like I said, we haven’t even…”

“This is serious!” Sarah said as she held a bag in her hand, smiling and shaking her head.

“What is it?” Blessing asked, with confusion clearly written on all faces.

Sarah walked between the ambulatory and started coming towards the members who were converged at the front of the altar. She held the black bag, wearing an unbelievable look of surprise.

“What is it, what did you see?” Sister Blessing and others asked.

“That…that is my bag!” A voice shrieked out, and all eyes were on Hannah whose horrific look on her face was priceless!

“You stole her phone?” Bukky asked.

“I didn’t even go upstairs. I was right here; I didn’t go to the gallery after the rehearsals. I was…”

“I couldn’t find my phone inside any bag,” Sarah finally relieved their suspense, but that even brought more suspense.

“But, I found this,” Sarah said, and displayed a pack of condom she took from the bag.

“That is not mine!” Hannah shouted in horror!

The whole members were astonished, more like disappointed.

“Oh, yeah?” Sarah said. “What about these, then?” She lifted up two used condoms tied at the base with semen still lying safely inside it.

“Jesus!” Some of the members shouted.
Blessing wore a look of abject disappointment; she looked at Hannah, shook her head and asked, “Why?”

“I swear Ma, I didn’t know anything about this, I swear to God!”

Hannah started to cry when she saw the look on Blessing’s face. She just accepted her as her Church-daughter and it would be disastrous to have blown it this quick. Blessing, on the other hand, was just disappointed.

“You put it in my bag!” She shouted and charged at Sarah.

She was prevented from getting to her by some of the members. She struggled and kept pointing at Sarah. Sarah stood at bay, looking at the aggressive Hannah who was crying and trying to break free.

“I didn’t put anything in your bag. God only wants us to see who you really are.” Sarah defended herself.

“Ha, Sister Sarah, may you die like…”

“Shut up!” Blessing stopped Hannah.

“This is a house of God, and I will not watch you place a curse on each other! This is embarrassing.”

“I swear to God,” Hannah sobbed hard, “I didn’t know anything about…”

“Then how did it get into your bag?” Sarah queried again.

“Hey guys,” Blessing called out, “we will get back to this later. It is almost time for Sunday school,” she clapped consecutively, “please fall into place.”

She turned at Sarah, “we will get to the root of this. I think someone planted it there.”

“What?” Sarah Shrieked loudly. “You can’t be saying I planted…”

“You did!” Hannah shouted at her amidst her tears.

“Shut up, please,” Blessing barked at Hannah. “You are relieved of every duty today. Sit with the congregation. This is not a punishment. Just try and get yourself together.”

“You found the phone?” The Coordinator asked from nowhere. “You stole the phone?” He immediately asked Hannah when he saw that she was the only one crying.

“We couldn’t find the phone. And no, Hannah didn’t steal the phone,” Blessing responded.

“So, why is she…?”

“She lost someone,” Blessing cut him short. “Please…Sir, if you don’t mind…”

“Sister Hannah, see me in my office after the service, okay?” The Coordinator ignored Blessing.

“No,” a deep voice replied him. It was the Pastor, with a dejected look on his face. Bukky was beside him, half smiling. “You, Brother Ade, Sister Sarah, Sister Blessing, and you,” he shook his head, “Sister Hannah, should all see me in my office after the service. Jesus! I can’t believe this!” He finished and disappeared back into the opening leading to the passage to the office.

Blessing moved to Bukky and whispered, unbelievably, “You told him?”

She tried not to smile, “What? Should I cover this up? I’m sorry. This is the house of God.”

There was a sound of something crashing on plastic chairs; it was Hannah- she fainted! The Coordinator turned to Rucks,

“Sister Rucks, is Hannah the one who stole Sister Sarah’s phone?”
No one replied him!







Chapter 13

The Pastor was on the phone, chatting distinctly like he doesn’t want anyone to hear him. He tapped the butt of his pen on the table as he did so. Any sane individual could see that he was unhappy. The room was dead silent except for his mumblings, the creaky sound of the ceiling fan which swung in slow-motion, and the audible gentle sobs of Hannah who sank on her heels in a half-kneeling position. Her eyes were swollen, red and she looked very ugly. Blessing would deliberately swipe a glance at her and shook her head; this made Hannah wailed more.

Sister Sarah stood behind Sister Blessing where she sat with leg crossed in front of the Pastor’s table, the Coordinator by her side, seated comfortable in the second and last chair available in the office. Sister Bukky, the one who just found the missing phone leaned on the wall, near to the door with arms crossed. Everyone was silent, everywhere was dead. After a while that seemed would not end, the Pastor dropped the receiver. Everyone was on their toes, hairs standing in anticipation.

“First of all,” the Pastor began as he dropped his call, “I don’t want to believe all these are happening. How can these be happening in this Church, under my watch? He shouted and slammed his palm on the table.

Everyone jerked. It was scary to always see the Pastor in such a mood.

“Sir…”

“Please, Mr Coordinator,” he interjected him as he wanted to speak, “this is a slap on your office. I hope you know that?”

“I’m sorry Sir.”

“Sorry?” He scoffed. “Sorry doesn’t even begin to describe how disappointed you must be. This lady here,” he pointed to Hannah who quickly knelt straight, “is part of your member. The same ones I expected you to screen properly before…”

“I did…”

“You did? You think you did? This was the same one you were vouching for to be an assistant to Sister Blessing, isn’t she?”

“Sir…”

“Please, enough!” He shouted him down.

Blessing lets out a scornful chuckle as Brother Ade opened and closed his mouth.

“What is funny here?” The Pastor turned to Blessing who was definitely taken by surprise. “Were you not the same one who came here just this week to tell me you have accepted Hannah as a Church-daughter to you, as our usual practice in this Church for a leader to groom a potential leader?”

“But…” she tried to speak but the Pastor cut in again.

“But you refused to pray and look thoroughly before you decided to accept …”

“But you didn’t believe me when I said she and him,” she turned angrily to the Coordinator, “were having sexual…”

“I beg your pardon!” The Coordinator sprung up from his seat.

Hannah also sprung up from her knees to protest, and Blessing started to laugh,
“You think I didn’t know?” she asked with a dead face.

“I swear to God Ma, that wasn’t true. I…we never did such…such a thing.” Hannah stammered on.

“And yet, used and unused condoms were found…”

“Sir, it wasn’t mine, I swear to God.” Hannah cried aloud again, cutting the Pastor short on his words. She wasn’t afraid of anything more that her parents hearing this.

“Sir, Sir, you really need to do something about this…this…this thing and her rumours. I can’t take this anymore!” The Coordinator was talking about Blessing.

“Of course, you will not take this anymore,” The Pastor replied him in anger. “You have obviously failed in your office and you are… you are just like a waste of space here, right here!” The Pastor shouted at him.

“But…”

“There is no ‘but’, Brother Ade.”

“But this is just a lie from…from this Jezebel!” He finished his statement.

“Watch your tongue, Brother Ade. Can you even hear yourself speak in such languages? Using these foul languages on her? And funny enough, she has proven to be wiser by keeping quiet and watching you dug your grave deeper.”

“I am sorry Sir.” He calmed down.

“Even the Bible says that a fool is thought wise if he could hold his tongue. You are…” he shook his head, “I don’t know…I don’t know what to say.”

“I’m sorry Sir,” the Coordinator maintained. He clamped his hands to his back like a good child.

“You,” he turned to Bukky, “where and how did you found the missing phone?”

“Sir…” she wanted to begin.

“Please, I have a meeting my four o clock, forget the pleasantries.”

“Okay. I went to wash my face at the bathroom when I saw…”

“And did you go to the bathroom?” He asked Sarah who nodded as a ‘yes’.

“So, you agree that you did forget it there, right?”

“Yes, Sir. I…”

“That’s all I need. Both of you should go. Thank you.” He clapped them away and watched them leave his office.

After a long silence, he turned to the Coordinator, “I will get to the bottom of this; be assured of that.”

“Sir…”

“You heard me,” he said firmly. “And you,” he turned to Hannah; you disgraced not only me but your parents and Christ in heaven!”

“Ha!” She shouted. “Sir, this is all…”

“Sir,” Blessing spoke after a long silence, “she…Sister Hannah said she is a virgin. So, this…”

“She…she said so, again?” The Pastor asked.

“Well, I …em….I don’t know if she already told you that…”

“She did,” the Pastor said. “Once when there was this trouble about the accusation….but,” he changed the subject, “I doubt that already.”

“Well, Last week, before I came to see you this week about accepting her as my Church-daughter, I talked to her about how it will be the best for her to shun all sexual sins if she has to take on the mantle of leadership and she said she was a virgin.” She shrugged and looked at Hannah who nodded in agreement.

“This is serious,” the Pastor stood akimbo, confused.

“If that was so, and you know this, why were you keen on tarnishing my image?” The Coordinator shouted at Blessing in anger.

“That was because ever since she has told me, she has always left your school late into the nights; something that wasn’t happening before.”

“Is that that true?” The Pastor asked.

“Sir…”

“I was talking to her, please.” The Pastor interjected the Coordinator.

“Yes, Sir.” Hannah replied in a low voice.

“Why?” The Pastor asked in a whisper.

“He…he only attends to me only when the other students have left.”

The Pastor buried his hands in his head. He gave a very loud sigh.

“Sir…Sir…” the Coordinator started.

“You got something to say to that, right?” The Pastor asked him.

“Yes, Sir. It was all because she was to be groomed separately and…”

“Brother Ade,” the Pastor called his name slowly.

“Yes, Sir.”

“You are suspended until all investigations are concluded.” He said calmly.

“What?” He said. “Sir, this is all a mistake.”

“Yes, you are right. It was a mistake because I thought a male Coordinator will fare better than the fallen females that their scandalous stories have refused to leave as a suffix to the name of this Church each time this parish is mentioned. And now…and now…”

“Sir, this is all a lie. I told you…”

“You are suspended. And that is pretty much all I have to tell you.” He repeated. “You, Hannah...”

“Yes, Sir.” She answered in tears and violent sobs.

“I don’t even know where to start with you.”

“Can I suggest something, Sir?” Blessing asked.

“Go ahead, please.”

“We could ask Doctor Abigail to conduct a virginity test on her so….”

“Yes, yes, I will do that. I will do that, Sir.” Hannah jumped at the suggestion.

It seemed her only way out. The Pastor was surprised and confused altogether.
“You will?” He asked with a frown.

“I will Sir, I will.” She repeated faster.

“Are you sure about this or we should just…”

“Sir, I am sure. I am a….”

“Hold that please” the Pastor halted her before she could say the word ‘virgin’ again. “You already made this claim before. We shall know that later,” the Pastor said. Brace yourself; Deacon Abigail is not going to be back until three weeks’ time. I am sure you all know that. She announced that herself last week. So, I guess we could all wait for her.”

“Thank you, Sir.” They all chorused. The Coordinator’s voice was louder that it caught the attention of the Pastor. Something the Coordinator wanted.

“You, Brother Ade, in your own case, even if you ever passed this sexual scandal test, your position will still be reviewed based on your gross incompetency .”

“Ha.” He said.

“Yes; and that means you may not return back as the Coordinator again if anything as a speckle is found on you.”

“What? Sir?”

“Yes, you heard me. In fact, since Sister Blessing has proven to see far ahead of you, I might have to reconsider the position of a Choir Mistress!”

“Yes!” Sister Mary clenched her fist. “We’re getting there!” She whispered to Blessing who was trying not to betray her emotion. She smiled back at her dead lover, “of course,” she said, inaudibly.

“But, Sir…” Brother Ade wanted to say, but he was stopped again by the Pastor who raised his arm.

“That is all. You can leave now.” He waved them out. “I have a meeting by four. Thank you all.”

“Thank you, Sir.” Blessing and Hannah said.

“Thank you Ma,” Hannah said to Blessing as they were about to leave.
“Don’t mention it,” she smiled back. “I believe you won’t disappoint me when Doctor…”

“I swear Ma, I’m a virgin. I will gladly subject myself to the test.”

“Good.” She replied her and they all exited.

The Pastor watched that little scenery between these two ladies and he was proud of Sister Blessing. As he watched them leave, he realized the Coordinator was still inside his office.

“What are you still waiting for?”

“Sir…”

“Please, leave my office. This meeting is over.” He didn’t even look up as he flipped through his big bible. He didn’t look up until he heard the door closed. He lowered his reading glasses to his nose with a frown,
“Pervert,” he said and hissed.


End of chapter 12 & 13


Friday, 19 February 2016

CHAPTER 6 &7: BLOOD ON THE ALTAR


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Chapter 6


That day, Blessing got home, sweating like a Christmas goat that just escaped being slaughtered.
“Men are wicked.” She told herself as she removed her shoes by a swing of her legs; the shoes flew to a corner. She opened her fridge and gulped down a bottle of water.
“That was close.” She laughed at herself.
“And that was stupid too.” Sister Mary interjected her from the wardrobe.
Blessing went over to the wardrobe and brought out Sister Mary’s picture. She had accustomed herself to talking with the picture of the dead lady whom she always imagined also talked back to her. As usual, she placed the picture in front of her mirror and started the usual mental drama,
“I know it was stupid, I’m sorry. I didn’t know what came over me.”
“You cheated on me, that is what was stupid,” Sister Mary supposedly said.
“We didn’t have sex. I mean, we could have, but we didn’t. But I’m sorry.”
“Yes, you didn’t because Emeka spotted Ruth alighting from the vehicle just when he was about to take a condom. But, it’s okay, I am dead, anyways.” The picture said.
“Don’t say that. You are alive. I am sorry, please.”
“Okay, I forgive you.”
“Thanks, my love,” Blessing said and kissed the picture.
Just as she was about to put back the picture, her phone rang. It was Emeka. She let it rang out two more times before asking for the permission to pick from Sister Mary. The picture said she could, so she did.
Emeka was full of nonsense, begging her to come to his house because he wouldn’t be able to sleep if they left the business unfinished. After she stood her ground on not visiting him, he asked if he could come to her place- she refused that also. This went on for weeks. Not a day passed without Emeka begging and sending in his naked picture to her phone, hoping to stir a feeling. Sister Ruth has told Blessing that they should be meeting at Brother Ade’s music school and no more at her house. She still feared something may happen between Emeka and her while she was away. That was okay by her; it was better than seeing that gigolo of a boyfriend of hers.
Two months after the incident with her and Emeka, there was a rumour which was almost turning out into physical manifestation about the Pastor contemplating on making Sister Ruth the Choir Mistress! Everyone was happy except Blessing and Sister Mary. So, at home, they discussed the way out.
“You need to act fast,” Sister Mary said.
“I know, but I don’t know what to do?”
There was silence between them, as both the living and the dead mull over a solution. It was the dead that first got an idea,
“You once said that Emeka said he will do anything to have you, right?”
“Yes,” Blessing replied. “What about that?” She asked.
“Come closer,” the picture urged, and Blessing took the picture and placed it against her ear, nodding her head in agreement as Sister Mary whispered the way-out into her throbbing ears.
It was a good plan; she loved it instantly. Since it involved finishing the unfinished sexual business she and Emeka ignited a couple of months ago, she smiled.  She admired her evil grin as she watched her reflection in her mirror.
The rest of the week was trouble for Sister Ruth; she couldn’t even have time for their musical lessons. She was so engrossed in winning back Emeka who has broken up with her. Even the winds knew that Sister Ruth was devastated.
“Emeka was like a prized possession to her; she was damn too ugly for that handsome man,” Blessing told herself in justification for her part in the breaking up process.
“So, what next will you require of me before we finish the unfinished business between us?” Emeka asked Blessing when they met.
“You need to relax, okay. I am not yet convinced you guys won’t get back after you must have had your way with me.”
“I have told you, I am not planning to just ‘have’ my way with you, I am planning on having you to myself. Why should I go back to that ugly girl? I have always been looking for a way to break her forced attachments with me. But I must admit she was always ready whenever I wanted it; so I never really bothered about her ugliness. Sex has been good.”
“Gross,” Blessing turned her lips in disgust. “Okay, you have just one step to go.”
“I told you, I will do anything.”
“And remember,” Blessing started the riot act, “we can’t be seen together. It will be bad; we have to make it remain a secret…”
“I know; I am not a kid. Just tell me what to do and I will do it.”
Blessing braced herself, “Tell her you didn’t feel compelled to be with her again after all you did together. If you needed a wife, you wouldn’t go for her type.”
“I already broke up with her. Is that not the same thing?” Emeka asked.
“No, it is not. It has to be a text message, and it has to be on Thursday evening.”
“I don’t get it, why…”
“Do you want me or not?” Blessing cut in.
“Okay, what time should I text her? I am sure the timing matters too.”
“It does. I will alert you, and you should text her immediately you see my signal.”
“Which is?”
“A call- I will call you.”
“Jesus! Okay; all these for a pussy?” Emeka was puzzled with all the conditions and rules.
“Well, maybe my pussy was paved with gold.” Blessing said calmly.
“God; you are not even a virgin that you claimed to be,” Emeka protested.
“You don’t know that.”
“My finger does!”
“Well, then forget it, since you already have a taste of the gold mine.” She stood up angrily to leave, but Emeka quickly stopped her by grabbing her hand,
“That was a joke. You know that. I will do it. Just alert me, and I will send the message.”
“Good,” she said and yanked her hand off his grip. “And if she replied to your message, do not reply.” She finished and swaggered away.
Emeka watched her as she swayed; he bit his lower lips and held his crotch tightly, “Damn!” He said. “All these for a mining permit?” I should have taken her that day!”
                    
             ****************
THURSDAY, FOUR O CLOCK
The Choir members gathered together as usual for the weekly rehearsals. Sister Ruth plugged her phone upstairs at the gallery as her usual practice and was conducting the rehearsals downstairs at the main auditorium. When they were deep into the practice, Blessing asked to be excused and went straight to the gallery.
She called Emeka on her way up and asked him to send the message to Sister Ruth’s phone, immediately. By the time she got to Sister Ruth’s phone, the message was already in. She didn’t bother to open it; she just minimized and sent back a reply to Emeka from Sister Ruth’s phone. The message reads:
“You cannot do this to me, Emeka. Not after I aborted for you, six times! You need to think about it; where do you want me to start from?”
Emeka was confused with that reply. He called Blessing immediately,
“Was that you? Did you send the message about abortion?”
“Literarily, yes.” She answered coldly. “But technically, Sister Ruth did because it was her phone that sent out the reply.”
“I don’t understand where you are going with this but…”
“Stay out of this okay? I will see you on Saturday night if you can play along. Then you can have your way all night long.” Blessing replied sharply and fast.
“Okay, okay; but for the record, she never aborted for me, not even once. She never got pregnant- I was always protected!” He disconnected immediately.
Blessing hissed and took Sister Ruth’s phone along with her. She gave it to Sister Ruth that a message came in while she was at the gallery. Sister Ruth thanked her and continued with the rehearsal.
Moments later, when she was free, she excused herself in order to read her message; Blessing watched her moment and she expected a reaction. The effect was awesome; Sister Ruth almost fainted when she opened the message. It was the message that Emeka sent. Sister Ruth shook her head and read the message again; slowly,
“Dear Ruth, it is over. You need to stop begging me. I am simply not attracted to you anymore!”
She collapsed in a chair.
Nobody really noticed except Blessing who has been watching her. She raised an alarm immediately and pointed everyone to Sister Ruth’s direction. Three of the Choir members rushed over to a surprised and sad Sister Ruth who kept saying she was fine that she was just feeling drowsy. She tried to stand up but fell back on her seat. There was commotion, everyone tried to make her feel better by doing their part, but she kept saying she was fine, even when her countenance said otherwise.
The plan was perfect, and Blessing loved every bit of it. Without being suspected, she took Sister Ruth’s phone from the floor and slid quietly into the Pastor’s office which was within the main Church premises. She explained the current commotion to the Pastor and claimed she knew what caused it. She handed over Sister Ruth’s phone to the Pastor and directed the Pastor to read Sister Ruth’s reply to the guy. The Pastor was lost in words; he couldn’t believe another vocal leader has been another mistake in his own part.
“This is serious,” he kept muttering to himself, “God, why all these?” He lamented. He scrambled for nothing on his table as he took and dropped everything, opening the drawers and closing it back.
Blessing enjoyed every bit of the Pastor’s confused reaction. At a time, she smiled without the Pastor noticing. The Pastor was silent with this head immersed in his hands. Suddenly, the door to his office flung open, and a very distressed Choir member rushed in,
“What is the problem?” The Pastor asked.
“Sister Ruth, she…” she struggled to catch her breath, “She…she has fainted!”
“Jesus Christ,” the Pastor said, and sank into his expensive leather chair. “Take her to the hospital; tell my driver to take her.”
“Okay Sir.” The town crier left.
“Sister…”
“Blessing, Sir,” she reminded the pastor of her name.
“Yes, Sister Blessing, you can go. But I will like to keep this phone as evidence.”
“No problem Sir,” she said and stood up.
As she was about leaving, the Pastor called her back;
“This Sister Ruth, she is your Church-mother, right?”
“Yes, Sir.” she answered.
“And you didn’t deem it fit to cover up this mess? I mean, due to your closeness with her. I heard you guys are very close.”
“Well, Sir,” she started, “I really wouldn’t have done that if this … this building was never a Church. If it were some kind of a worldly music school, I wouldn’t have minded. But this is a house of God, and I can never cover such madness!” She started throwing her fist in excitement and enthusiasm like a preacher preaching about tithe. She continued her hypocrisy,
“Worshippers of God must be holy and without dark secrets. I know this guy with her, and whenever he visited when I was around, Sister Ruth will ask me to go home, and that will be the end of our practice for that day. I approached her and she denied ever having intercourse with him, and I believed her because I never caught them in the act.”
“Hmmm,” the Pastor hummed, enjoying her. “So, you mean you believed that anyone who is to worship God must be holy? You mean only for the period of holding that position?”
“No Sir, I mean the person should live a holy life, worthy of emulation, forever.”
“I am sure you also have a boyfriend.” The Pastor tried to drill her. “But I am sure you don’t have sex with him.”
She moved towards the Pastor’s table and grabbed a bible,“I swear to God in heaven that I have never in my life copulated with a man, and I don’t even have a boyfriend.” She dropped the bible and continued, “I am a virgin as far as a normal intercourse entails a man have sex with a woman. How can I even do such things? I mean, why should I live a double life? I have devoted my life to Jesus Christ, and I will never indulge in such practices until I am married.”
“You can go, Sister Blessing. Thank you,” the Pastor said and watched her leave.
That was the end of Sister Ruth who was suspended, and like Sister Joy, she never returned to the Church due to the shameful incident. Blessing denied the allegation of replying the message when Sister Ruth approached her for answers, but even if she did confess that she sent the message, it still wouldn’t have saved Sister Ruth, whose messages on her phone were full of former sexts between her and Emeka.
That scandal rocked the Church, and that was the last stroke of scandal under the Pastor’s nose. He was transferred to another Church, but not after he has already filed a letter of recommendation on behalf of Sister Blessing to be considered as the future Choir Mistress. And that was also the beginning of the relationship with Emeka.
The newly appointed Pastor-in-Charge, Pastor Akin, didn’t even bother to read the recommendation letter; he scraped the office of the Choir Mistress completely and held on to the idea of a male Coordinator. The first Coordinator resigned few months after he was married, and Brother Ade took over. Sister Blessing was appointed as the vocal leader after her good works and zeal to the work of God were noticed; one which could not be placed under doubt. The night that she was appointed a vocal leader, she and Sister Mary had a nice time of celebration. She placed her dead lover’s picture on her chest and masturbated with a very big condom-wearing dark plantain!
Chapter 7
That was how Blessing and her lover ensured that Sister Ruth’s reign was not long enough. The Coordinator’s voice snapped her back to reality, back into the Pastor’s office from the land of the past,
“Pastor, I already told she will not talk; not when she is guilty of betraying the only Sister who took her in and helped her grow into what she is now.”
“Brother Ade, I have told you to allow the Sister explain the situation herself. Whatever you guys are saying is total darkness to me.”
All these while, Blessing had remained silent, enjoying the session and waiting for the right moment to switch to the next plan. The Coordinator continued, turning to the Pastor,
“Sir, before your arrival, Pastor Ajani, the Pastor that you succeeded, actually called a meeting after he was served a letter to handover, after the series of scandal that rocked his administration; I was privileged to be part of the attendees. He explained to us that Sister Blessing was the one who exposed the text message that incriminated the…”
“Incriminated or exposed?” The Pastor asked him sternly.
Blessing smiled inside of her. She knew the Pastor had seen the situation from her perspective.
“Well…” the Coordinator wanted to say, but the Pastor interjected,
“We need to be very careful about the choice of words here, because the way I am seeing it, I am beginning to accept, just like she accused you, that you are not happy with how Sister Ruth went down in connection to her.” He pointed to Blessing, whose head was still hung low- though, pretentiously.
“I’m sorry about that Sir, but that is not true. We were…I mean, I was glad, but we just thought she shouldn’t have been the one to do that. Not with the way Sister Ruth treated her as a sister.”
“So, you meant to say that if your own flesh and blood is into something that was as bad as that, and yet, held an important office in the Church of God, you would have covered it up?”
“No, Sir.”
“I think you would!” The Pastor said with all certainty. “This is interesting; I believe for the first time, we are really getting to know each other.”
“Ha,” the Coordinator shifted uneasily in his seat, “don’t see it that way, Sir. We were only worried that she should have displayed some kind of loyalty. We believe even a simple loyalty will go a long way.”
“That is true,” the Pastor agreed.
“Thank you Sir,” Brother Ade quickly eased up. “And that was why we were worried when Pastor Ajani said he has prepared a letter of recommendation to suggest Sister Blessing for the post of the Choir Mistress.”
“Interesting,” the Pastor got more interested, “Please continue,” he insisted.
By this time, Blessing knew the plan was hatched, and the result was already out. She sure overheard that Pastor Ajani had recommended her, but she had waited in vain to be announced, only for this new Pastor, Pastor Akin, to make her a vocal leader and blocked all her hope of getting to the coveted throne. But, the way things turned out to be, she realized that Pastor Akin didn’t even know anything about the letter.
“So,” the Coordinator continued, we kicked against it based on the issue you also agreed on- her display of lack of loyalty. We believed that if she can do that to a close colleague, then, she will show no respect to the Church.”
“You see, Brother Ade, the issue of loyalty I agreed with, was not as you are seeing it currently. Sister Blessing has shown her commitment and loyalty to God and not to men, by exposing your friend.” 
He paused to see Brother Ade’s reaction, and his reaction was full of defeat. He shook his head, shifted in his seat, and started sweating. But the Pastor continued, much to Blessing’s gladness.
“So,” Pastor Akin continued, “you people going against her because she exposed a particular person who wasn’t even fit for the post of a leader in a Church, are only against God.”
“Ha, Pastor.” He gaped and became more inconvenient in his seat. As it appeared, the tide had turned against him. The plan was working.
Blessing slowly turned her head to look at him without really raising it and winked at the Coordinator. An action only the Coordinator noticed. The Coordinator looked transfixed with surprise.
“Where is the letter of recommendation, Brother Ade?” The Pastor asked.
“It is in my office, Sir.” He replied, fidgeting.
“Why haven’t I seen this letter?”
“Em…Sir, it was agreed, based on the same issue we were talking about…”
“The issue of lack of loyalty, I suppose?”
“Yes Sir.” He said, and nodded at the same time, raising his finger like a pupil wanting to ask his teacher a question.
“Lack of loyalty,” the Pastor paused, “to men, right?”
“Ha! Not like that Sir.” The Coordinator managed to say, clearly showing his surprise at the sudden turn of things against him. Blessing only managed not to laugh.
“Please, fetch the letter.” The Pastor ordered and turned away from him.
“Now, is your time,” Sister Mary told Blessing. Only she could hear her dead lover talk.
“Sister Blessing,” the Pastor called her softly.
“Sir.” she answered coarsely.
“Are you crying? Please raise your head.” The Pastor pleaded with her. “You don’t need to cry, God has vindicated you once more. Can you hear me, Sister Blessing?”
“Do it, now!” Sister Mary ordered and Blessing bursted into tears. She wailed louder and sniffed harder. The Pastor was helpless- he tried to make her calm. Brother Ade came in; he held the letter to his chest.
“What happened, Sir?” He asked as he closed the door behind him.
“Well, you can hear and see for yourself. It really hurts to think we are doing some good, and people turned it into a bad thing. You people need to apologize to this lady. She has done nothing wrong by exposing the wrong person in this Church,” he lectured.
“I… em…we are very sorry, Sir. I believe we only saw it in a different way back then. But now, I think with all you have said, I know better-God first, Sir.” He finished his damage control speech that was dry anyways.
After a while, Blessing wiped her face and looked up.
“This is your letter of recommendation, I promise to look into it. But I am not promising to go back out of the decision not to have a Choir Mistress for now. You shall remain the vocal leader and we will discuss more on how you can help us with Sister Hannah. I am glad we still have people like you in the Church.”
“Thank you Sir,” she spoke after a long time, half kneeling.
There was a disturbing silence until she broke the silence again, “Can I be excused Sir?” She turned her head backwards to check the time from the wall clock in the Pastor’s office and added, “I need to pray for at least one hour before I break my fast, and as it is, the time is already…”
“Oh, you’re fasting?” The Pastor asked excitedly.
She nodded.
“May the Lord answer your prayers, my daughter,” he prayed.
“Amen Sir,” she replied with a shy smile.
“Please, be quick about it. You can go.” the Pastor said, rubbing his palms together and smiling broadly. It was clear that she has won the Pastor to her side; another step closer.
“Please, remember us in your prayers,” the Pastor called out as she was about to exit the office.
“I will Sir.” She replied and smiled back, closing the door after her.  Once the door was closed behind her, she pressed her ears against the door, ready to eavesdrop.
The voices were faint, but not faint enough for her not to make sense out of it.
“You need to be very careful as a leader, Brother Ade. We cannot afford to lose such a God fearing Character in this Church. I, personally will not accept that!” The Pastor said.
“I understand Sir, but we can’t just judge a book by its cover. Sister Blessing is not who she was pretending to be Sir. You need to open your eyes!” He said that loudly.
“So, I am blind?” The Pastor asked.
“I am talking of the spiritual eyes, Sir,” he corrected.
“Still the same; you will need to get me a spiritual glasses then, since I am supposedly blind spiritually.”
“Sir, I didn’t mean it that way.” He lamented.
“Please, leave. I have a lot of things to attend to.” The Pastor retaliated.
Blessing quickly left the door and headed to the main exit. As she was close to the door to the main auditorium, her bag got hooked by the door latch and its content spilled. She quickly packed them and tucked them bag into the bag. There was a cucumber; a half-emptied plastic bottle of soft drink, a half-eaten snack, a small note and a pen.  She looked around to ensure that nobody saw her and quickly packed her things; she tucked them into the bag with great disorderliness.
As she was closer to the gate, she brought out the snack in her bag and took a quick bite after blowing the dirt from it. Immediately she opened the gate, she bumped into Hannah who was just about to enter. She jumped back in fear.
“I’m sorry, Ma; I didn’t know you were coming.” Hannah apologized.
“Oh, it is okay, Hannah.” She mumbled between mouthfuls and waved her off, trying hard not to let Hannah suspect anything as she forced herself to swallow.
“Alright, take care, Ma.” Hannah said and continued on her way to the office.
Blessing watched her with great hate and contempt as she walked away.
“I hope you are ready for the showdown?” She asked Hannah who has already vanished into the office complex and not within an earshot. “I just hope you can handle the heat?” She said again and moved outside the Church premises.
She closed the gate, brought out the soft drink from her bag and gulped it all down. She closed her eyes and let out a refreshing loud belch and a big sigh.
“Fasting my foot.” She said and flung away the empty plastic bottle. With a great air of victory and ostentation, she swaggered down the way home.
THE END OF CHAPTERS 6 AND 7

Thursday, 11 February 2016

BLOOD ON THE ALTAR (CHAPTER ONE)

This novel is the sole property of wale-joseoh oludare (KINGwax Oluwadamilare).
All right reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system of any kind, sold, rewritten, printed/photocopied,  recorded or published online or traditionally without the prior licence and authority of the author- KINGwax oluwadamilare
07035593128
kingwax.oluwadamilare@gmail
.com


                  **************





BLOOD ON THE ALTAR (the poem)
The whole congregation waits in anticipation
Sister Blessing will soon mount the podium
She will render the special dedication
Her voice will intoxicate them like the opium


Oh, sister Blessing
She is just like watching the angels sing
Oh, what a Blessing
There is none other like her our eyes have seen


The Church’s microphone must feel no other hand
The speakers must convey no other voice
The podium must feel no other dance steps
Except our own sister Blessing’s


No other Sister will love to try
Because they will never be good enough
Once sister Blessing is ready to drag
They will be left without a scent of pride


She murders their character
She destroys their self-esteem
She cares not what happens after
She must remain the only fish in the stream


Even with their over bloated anointing
The Pastors have refused to see
Even with their vague holy life
The elders have refused to notice


Blood cries from the altar
From the podium where sister Blessing loves to sing
Dead ambitions, assassinated characters


All scream with their talents in her grip
All hail Sister Blessing
The Angel is ready to sing
And bloods cry from the altar
But no one is ready to listen



                         PROLOGUE
April, 1965

Beside the historic museum on Helm’s street lay a thick bushy virgin land. Crowds gather on the street while an old woman wailed in agony. Her husband and three children have been killed right on the land which belongs to them, the same which shared a fenced boundary with the museum.


Rumours have it that this dead man gave his friend the documents to the land to help him transact with a potential buyer, but this friend sold this land and gave the owner and his family, stipend. Then, there was trouble as the owner was said to have rejected the money offered and asked for his land back. His friend asked them to meet on the land so he can meet face to face with the buyer and settle the matter, but it was an ambush, as the man was killed right there with his three sons that accompanied him.


This woman wailed, but there was no evidence that his husband’s friend killed her family. Thus, she has no helper, no justice.



Chapter 1
FIFTY YEARS LATER


Blessing decided to check herself once again in her half-broken wall mirror that was leaning on the wall at the corner of her room. She touched her head-tie in many places, turning her head side by side as she did so, admiring herself in her broken mirror. The dress on her looked like her skin in its fitness and its light colour that matched her light skin. She didn’t need anyone to tell her that she was a beauty!


She reminisced about last week; last week was awesome, she had tested her popularity and it worked just fine. This is what happened….


A WEEK AGO
After the usual morning rehearsal on Sunday, Blessing left without informing anybody. Few minutes to worship time, the Choir Coordinator called her to ask why she wasn’t in the Church after the morning rehearsal;


“I’m on my period,” she lied.


“What? So, who will lead the praise and worship?” The Coordinator asked, more in the horror of no one to lead properly if she didn’t. Besides, she was the vocal leader.


“I don’t know,” she replied; “you have Sister Hannah, who has proven to be better than I am.” She tried to ask for his view indirectly.


“Ha, Sister Blessing, don’t say that; Sister Hannah is a new member and you know this. She couldn’t have been able to do it better like the Pastor wanted and the congregation might not feel the presence of God as you used to bring it down.”


“But, the Pastor already said that anyone on her period may sit with the congregation and not bother to minister.” She teased further.


“See, Blessing,” he removed the religious formality, “let this stay between you and I, you are not on your menses. Have you told anyone?”


“No, I haven’t.” She answered him, giving him the perfect answer. She giggled inaudibly and bit her lower lip.


“Good, I will try and stall the worship till you come back. How long will it…”
“Ten minutes,” she cuts in excitedly. She was sure the Church couldn’t do without her.


“Are you sure? Because your house is rather far and…”


“I will take the bike,” she explained better, since ten minutes was rather too small a time frame, if the distance from her house to the Church ever mattered. But only Blessing knew she wasn’t even at her own apartment.


“Thank you. Please don’t disappoint us, Sister Blessing,” the Coordinator begged.


“I won’t disappoint Sir,” she said and disconnected.


She dropped the phone and plunged herself into a resounding laughter. The truth was that, she has been feeling threatened by the presence of Hannah, the new girl who just got promoted to the senior choir. And she feared that Hannah already got the attention of the Choir Coordinator who always urged her to practice more, so that she could fill the void Sister Blessing might create in the future. This didn’t go down well with Sister blessing who wasn’t even ready to step aside; not when she hasn’t reached her goal.


“So, you are going back to Church?” Emeka asked.


“The Church needs me. The Coordinator just called me now. She wants me back in the Church.” She replied while putting on her skirt.


“But, I need you more.” Emeka responded, he stood up and caressed her as he held her close to himself. She shrugged him off.


“We will see later.” She started to wear her pink Choir uniform. “I am not supposed to be here in the first place. I just wanted to see their reaction if I skipped the worship session.”


Emeka, a cultist, who didn’t care about her commitment to Church, wasn’t ready to let go without a fight. “You are going to leave me after just two rounds of sex?” He asked as if two rounds were a joke.


Blessing flashed him a contentious look and hissed. She finished dressing and said goodbye. Emeka wouldn’t let her go until she agreed to a French kiss. She obliged. Minutes later, she was on the bike to the church, even though Emeka’s house was a trek-able distance to Church. She landed right into the hands of the worried Coordinator who hurried her through the back door.


She appeared just like that on the altar- she was right on the time. The rest was history as she took the stage by storm in her usual way. Angels came down and the glory of God was all over the congregation. People danced and rejoiced, and the Pastor kept giving her a thumbs-up as the praise and worship went up to the stars.




           **************************


That was last week; this morning, she hummed rock of ages to herself as she prepared for the Sunday morning rehearsal. It is a usual tradition in her church- every choir must be at the morning rehearsals by seven in the morning. As she grabbed her bible as the final part of her readiness, Emeka came in naked; he had rushed to the toilet after the last round of their usual sexual escapade.


“Are you dressed already?” He asked as if he didn’t see she was dressed already. He sat on her bed, wearing a disappointed look.


“Yes, Emeka; I want to be in Church before the morning rehearsals. I have something I need to discuss with the Coordinator.” She replied as she prepared to leave.


“This is not acceptable,” Emeka muttered. Blessing didn’t bother to reply; she already knew where he was heading.  “Why do you always confine me to just two rounds of the sex?”


She didn’t bother to reply him. She grabbed her bible and announced her exit. Emeka shook his head at her silence, took his trousers from the floor where he had thrown it, dipped his hands in its pocket and gave her the transport fare.  “I will wait till you’re back,” he said.


“You can’t wait; not here, not in my apartment!” She fired back, firmly.


“Is this because of the house fellowship?” Emeka asked.


“Yes, because of that; and because I couldn’t afford to be mentioned as part of the workers of Christ who allows a man to sleep over at her place or who sleeps over in a man’s place.”


“But, you are my girlfriend.” He snickered.


“That is even worse. Leave my key where I usually put it, and leave on time. I am the next host for the house fellowship, and I don’t want any problem. I am Sister Blessing, the perfect example to the younger ones; okay?”


Emeka starred at her in disbelief. “If you are the only Christian alive, and a perfect example of one, then I will rather be a pagan.”


“Good for you.” She answered without any worry. “It doesn’t really appear you are different to a pagan. Please, don’t let me meet you here.” She reiterated her instruction.


“So,” Emeka fluttered, “are you coming back after the rehearsal?”


Blessing looked at him, lost for words.
“I mean, just like last week. Last week was…”


“No!” She shouted him down. “I am not coming back. I thought I told you last week why I left. Please, don’t forget…”
“To close the door and leave- I get it.” Sullen Emeka interjected.


“Good.” She slammed the door after herself and went her way.


Emeka shook his head and prepared to leave. He scoffed at Sister Blessing’s statement as it crossed his mind again;
“Perfect Christian indeed.” He muttered with a frown.


A thought came to his mind and he was too quick to reject it.


“God forbid,” he said, snapping his fingers in quick backward movements above his head. Nobody knew what the thought was, but maybe the thought was a question that asked,


“What you will do if God says that Blessing is your divine wife?”


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