Harobed TALES

EPISODE 2 : But all this changed when I met Gika short form for her rather long native name. She was the inspiration I had been lacking, my muse. She legit had four piercings on her ear, a nose ring and one on her belly button. Gika knew all the happening spots and clubs on the mainland and the island. Lucky me! I had my license, so we painted the town red. From my horrible alcohol count of zero, I went to a 30. I was finally free. My nights were alcohol and weed full and I repeated the same cycle. Was it the guys? I met a million of them, I wasn’t an ugly person, so I didn’t lack in that department. I would even sit back some days and be like, “Edidiong you have arrived! Your success story is written” looking back now I can’t believe I equated my idea of freedom with success. Oh boy was I naïve? After a few months of endless partying, weeding, alcohol consumption I started to feel empty. I cannot exactly describe it. I started lagging behind on work and I would always...

EPISODE 1 My name is Edidiong Ugoma, I am 21 years old and I am fresh out of the university. I was born into one of those homes you would call average, in the sense that we always had food to eat,the necessities we needed and we got good education. My parents aren’t overly religious, but they sure as hell are overly protective and I was their only daughter so you can imagine the pressure. I went to mission schools, like OLA and the rest and wound up in a Christian private university. I was sure going to become the president of CAN one day. Now because of all these restrictions, on a scale of one to ten I was a very decent girl. But deep down, I knew that a part of me wanted to break out, see the world, explore, do all the fun stuff that youths these days carry out. I didn’t want to do bible study classes any more or evangelism outreaches, as they had been my bread and tea for the past twenty years of my life. So I studied hard, not because I wanted to make anybody proud b...

          BEST SERVED HOT- THE SCAR About five minutes later, we arrived at Chief's house to a police van parked outside and several horrible spectacles running through my mind. We were denied entry and had to join the gathered crowd, which was already thick with rumors. The policemen soon emerged bearing a bundle, and the worst of my imaginations was confirmed.    It was Patrick, wrapped in a curtain and pulled by the limbs and very much dead. The curtain was literally soaked with blood and dripping, and an errant part of my mind wondered at the enormous quantity of blood that was in the human body. Upon attempting to maneuver through the narrow entrance of the gate, the curtain slipped and our friend's body slipped out, showing three gruesome stab wounds on his lower back where his shirt rode up.  The murmuring crowd fell silent as the officers, looking all bored as though they dealt with such every day, r...