The TNC post I would have submitted but did not

As the title states, this is the post I would have sent in instead of Pushed to the wall. I did not. No patience, i guess. But its all good. It can entertain all my 3 followers on this blog. Thank you, people. The fact that you like what I write is all the vindication and encouragement that I need to keep writing. I love you guys. I followed the original format given as closely as possible. now, without further ado-


         Aigbe smiled callously as he watched Esosa tumble backwards onto the floor. He thought to himself that she quite looked like a fish out of water – flailing about, reaching for support that would not be forthcoming. His smile very quickly evolved into a cruel laugh as he watched the back of her head crash onto the cold, tiled floor with a sickening, wet sound. Leaping astride her semi-conscious body, he rained three solid blows onto her torso, working his way from her lower ribcage to her sternum. She yelped, shook and choked with each blow, unable to fight back.

“You are the one that will die, not me, Stupid Harlot!”

He spat into her face as the last blow landed and she choked violently, jerking with the impact of the blow and recoiling from the glob of projectile spittle that had hit her face.

“You!  Are! A! Mad! Dirty! Prostitute!”

Each word was punctuated by a slap that sent waves of pain coursing through Esosa’s head. She could barely speak or shout or scream in protest, much less move. She felt herself start to slip into a numb blackness but she tried to hold on.  Aigbe wrapped his hands around her neck and muttered.

“Witch! Harlot! Your plan has failed!”

Esosa closed her eyes and let the numbing darkness take her as her husband choked the remaining life from her, his wedding ring pressing into against her carotid artery.


2 hours earlier


        Esosa smiled to herself as she poured the brown powder into the bottle of Merlot. She re-corked it and shook it violently until the powder began to dissolve. She knew Aigbe was already on his way home… she had talked to his mother. She had talked to the Doctor. They had both confirmed that he would be coming home very soon. She was giddy with excitement. She ran through her plan. The one she had worked through with the help of his mother and her gynaecologist. Now that the cancer had gone into remission, she wanted to get pregnant. Soon. Very soon. Today. The Spermac pills she had just put into his drink would help with that. She called him to find out where he was. He was in traffic, he said. That was all right, the food was not yet ready anyway.

Her phone rang. “Sweet mother” by Prince Nico Mbarga. She smiled. It was Aigbe’s mother. Most people found it very surprising that she was very close to her mother- in-law, but she had never seen it as an extraordinary happening. She had been close to her mother –in- law even before she met Aigbe and became his wife. She was not entirely sure that she would have married him if she had not loved his mother first. She picked the call. After the usual banalities that people seem to love beginning all phone calls with, she got into the matter at hand. She wanted to find out if all things were going along accordingly. She ended the call with a prayer that things would go well and that 9 months later she would “hear the cries of a baby” in her son’s house. Esosa just laughed.

2 weeks earlier

Aigbe looked at his watch. Esosa always came for her hospital visits at this time. He was anxiously waiting for her. Waiting to see the smile light up her beautiful almond shaped eyes as they told her that her prince would return home soon. She was his princess. The embodiment of all the wonderful things that had ever happened to him. Most women would not visit their husbands with the level of diligence she had shown. Every Wednesday, Thursday, Saturday and Sunday. Not many women would have gotten along with his mother as well as she had and still did. Not many women would be willing to bake and cook for the nurses and doctors twice every week to ensure they took special attention in him. He had no doubt about it, his wife was priceless. The only fault he could find with her was her insane desire to have kids. He had tried to tell her various times that he did not want kids and would even have preferred to adopt if it would have satisfied her desire for them. But no, she had to be irrational. The baby had to be “theirs”. It was bloody annoying.

He heard a sound. He looked towards the door but it was firmly shut. He then heard the voice. The laughing one. The one that never shut up. He sighed. He should have known. It always came back. Always.

2 months earlier

He was now used to the smell of pills. He knew the smell of morphine, the one they gave him for pain. The smell of AC-T. He knew the sickly citrusy smell of the multivitamins Esosa and his mother continually forced into him. He joked with his few remaining friends that no one could sneak a drug into him now. That chemotherapy had its advantages. He could smell it a mile away. He saw their pitying, uncomfortable smiles and he wondered how long it would be before he lost them too. Before they no longer came to call on him. Before James decided to make a second play for Esosa…

He sighed when they had left. He was sure he would not see any of them again for a while. Except maybe James. Anger and jealousy can no more bear to lose sight of their objects than love”.  He remembered that quote by George Eliot perfectly.  And James was both angry with and jealous of him. Angry because he had always been richer and thus more attractive to girls and jealous because somehow, the ex- Miss Uniben and his former teenage- hood sweetheart had married Aigbe instead of him.

2 years earlier

They had finally put a name to it. A name to explain the voices, the screaming, the need to throw things, the hallucinations, the “visions”. Paranoid Schizophrenia. He shrugged. He called and went to meet Esosa. He could not be alone right now. He just could not. If he did, he would lose the carefully constructed façade of his character and he would truly be lost.

He marvelled though at how disaster managed to follow him everywhere. His father had died of prostate cancer when he was 10 leaving quite a lot of money behind. The money ensured that he was befriended by everyone, most of whom he hated with a passion. His mother had been toasted and chased by all sorts of people who of course only wanted a big chunk of the “pie” his dad had left them. Fortunately, she had seen through most of them. The only one who had gotten through the barrier had turned out to be an even bigger and more dangerous virus than all the others combined. The type of virus that escapes the Dettol, the Savlon, and the hand sanitizer and manages to give you the worst diarrhoea ever. The stomach- innards twisting type of diarrhoea. Segun was the human equivalent of that. After he’d discovered that all the money was tied up in long term investments, he had taken to anally violating Aigbe and beating his mother at every turn. And in hardly visible areas. The amazing thing about it all was that Segun was richer than his father even. And money covers up all things. Even greed.  A year later, Aigbe had had enough. He bought some poison and that was the end of Segun. He had then sworn to himself two things- to never eat or drink at the place of anyone he wasn’t sure he could trust and never to have kids of his own lest he contaminate them.

Pulling his mind back to the present, He saw Esosa and a sudden shyness enveloped him. He nervously twisted the blue Tiffany box in his pocket. He was going to ask her to marry him….


5 Comments Add yours

  1. Pen_pikin says:

    The plot of the whole affair seems to make a lot of sense, but see dear Brother the narrative technique is, regretably, quite mediocre. Flashback is a great tech but is most appreciated when used ‘thrifty’…you know. Here, there were TOO many of ’em and that made reading cumbersome and very tasky. I must confess i didn’t see the story through cos i just got ‘stuck’ and confused in the middle of it.

    P.s: i’m all for longevity, but i doubt if TNC would’ve accepted this in the first place. It’s too long for their requirement. Writerly blessings, bro. Shine.

    1. hrh7 says:

      Lol. Thanks for the compliment. And the criticism. I checked out your blog btw. It’s nice

  2. Pen_pikin says:

    I see one or two typos in my previous comment, pardon me: typing on my Nokia sucks.

    1. hrh7 says:

      Try removing the activate prediction option… if u haven’t. Is it a touch screen keypad?

  3. rockcalvary says:

    Loved every piece of it. The whole flashback thingy was cool joor. Felt like I was reading arabic. *nice work

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