Stories

I heard the judge say “remanded’ and then ‘Kirikiri’, then he banged a wooden object on his table and I was whisked away, again in handcuffs.

Her eyes fluttered open, then she closed them again. Fear suddenly gripped me as I remember the possibility of her not remembering who we are.

Omotara , my firstborn child. If you can hear me, I want you to know how precious you are to me. You are our first, your father and I, our precious gift from God. We named you Omotara because when you came into our lives, we forgot how lonely we had been since we got married.

I recently entered this story in an Essay & Short Story Contest organised by Panacea Nigeria and came second. I'm sharing the story with you all as well.

It’s not always going to be dark, because when the shadow of the moon passes, the sun will shine again.