Night had cast its heavy blanket over the eyes of day. Today was the last day of the month and I was back in Enugu, looking at Uncle Max hug Miss Bisi and escort her to her car. There was no light in my room in Uncle Max's house except for the errant rays of moonlight that filtered in through the window. The light could not illuminate my room very well and I didn't care because I was not interested in turning on the only light bulb in my room.It has been three days since I watched Dad throw Sarah from his house in a shameful manner that attracted the attention of neighbours. That being said and outlined as disastrous, I have been able to come up with a blind argument that supports the notion that all humans are subject to their own emotions and feelings, and are ready to ensure that their own desires are fulfilled no matter what is at stake.Down at the back of my mind, a stream of thoughts kept a steady flow, bearing debris of thoughts which crashed into one an
We didn't write any exam today so I didn't go to school today. The first day of May can bring something new in your life and I believe it can also bring something new in my life too. I spent half of today cleaning Uncle Max's house. Some of his friends were coming over to see him and I didn't want them to meet a dirty house so I decided to take half of my reading time and dedicate it to cleanliness. It seems like a charming thing to do for Uncle Max and it really is, but it isn't something I deserve credit for because every reasonable teenager ought to make his uncle proud in the best way he or she can and that was what I was simply doing.*After a long tiring day, Uncle Max sat in the bench at the top of Stormheel Park, looking down towards two grown up men struggling to buy a pack of cigarette. Stormheel Park was not t
The room where I stood was very dark. It was more like a hole inside a maze. It was broad and lined with wooden shelves filled with holy items, the same amount of holy items which filled the floor space all around me. As I came out of the room, I saw something different. I could swear that I have never seen a place like this in my entire life. It was a grand cathedral with lofty ceilings reaching the sky, broad doorways facing different cardinal points, shining marble floors, and a well-polished wooden pulpit at the front of the cathedral in the middle of it all. The pulpit was covered with gold, silver and bronze. The three Olympic medals of honor side by side in perfect harmony. The main entrance of the cathedral and its trappings were magnificent. I don't know how I got inside the cathedral but I know I didn't pass through the main door because of the amount of security check that was going on there. The machines were on h
So, I remembered a man today. I remembered a man who preaches the word of God along the road to a campus in my sister's university. Almost all the students who attend or have attended the University of Port-Harcourt for the past five years will not deny the fact that they have met this man once in their lives. What is unique about this man is the fact that he has been doing what he has been doing for more than five years!So, I was thinking about him today. I was trying to understand how someone can become so faithfully dedicated to a particular cause. This man, who is the hero of today's entry has spent roughly every single day over the past five years with a microphone on his hand, under the hot sun of Nigeria, rebuking people for their wrong and calling them back to do the right thing. My thoughts are with him, and although he may not be an agnostic like me, I still respect the consistency he possesses.
My birthday was not celebrated the way that I wanted. There was no cake. There were no balloons. Just me and Uncle Max taking biscuits and groundnuts from a large tray with a lotus symbol at its centre."So how old are you today?" Uncle Max asked."I am plus one," I said with such confidence befitting of a native fowl that is about to prepare for defeathering."So you are not going to tell me your age?" Uncle Max persisted."I thought I told you now.""When?""Come on, Uncle Max. I am plus one. That is my age."Uncle Max shook is head in a way that signified he wasn't afraid of questioning me until he got what he wanted."Plus one is an addition not an age," Uncle Max argued."What is the meaning of age, Uncle Max?""If I must tell you, an age is the number of full years, months, days, hours, etc., that someone, or something, has been alive.""Good!" I complimented. "So you agree it is a number?"
Is it crazy when you walk up to a girl and put your hand across her shoulders when you just met her for the first time? Is it silly to stick your lips for a kiss and close your eyes when your lover is looking away? Is it stupid to tell your uncle that you felt bad when you saw him kissing his lover? Lots of silly and crazy things happen everyday and the beautiful thing about life's design is the possibility of every human being to be a part of it like I was part of the swimming pool show on my birthday."Are you feeling better?" Uncle Max asked me today."No I am not. Leave me alone."
I was in my room studying for my fifth WAEC exam when Uncle Max informed me that he was going out with Miss Bisi. He placed some naira notes on my bed and told me I was free to use them whenever I wanted. Of course, I knew I was free to use the money for whatever I wanted and whenever I wanted but it was like a basic requirement for Uncle Max to show me the way before giving me the privilege to proceed of my own accord. Understand?Uncle Max and I sat for a while, our bodies far apart as if the room was bigger than the way it already was. His lips circled then stopped. He opened his mouth and let out some fresh air."Thank you for understanding how I feel. I wanted to say something the other day," Uncle Max said, pressing his palms together. It was only proper for me to keep quiet and give him the opportunity to express himself, but I did not care; there were a lot of things going on in his mind that I didn't care about."The time is running as fast as lightnin
Goodness would have refused if he was given a second chance to express his views concerning the issue but he had gotten caught up in his own thoughts and resisted any further reasoning. He tried to talk again, but he found himself held in place by some unseen force. Not the kind of spiritual force that most Nigerian televangelists will be eager to attribute but the solemn voice of his heart reminding him that he had made a decision that he couldn't change."Do I have another chance to reject what I have said," Goodness said to his father as they sat under a mango tree close to their house. He felt himself grow faint and imagined falling forward, catching himself on the table in front of him and then vanishing with no trace."I can't go the northern part of Nigeria," Goodness continued. "It is too hot and I have no word to describe the terrorism.""No one wants this as much as you do, Goodness. Breathe peacefully and let those evil thoughts end right along
Chibuzor Victor Obih was born in the southern part of Nigeria. Delta State to be precise. His writing includes essays, poetry and short stories. He likes to play soccer, read, study and above all, write. He is currently a fourth year student of a renowned public university in Nigeria. The University of Port-Harcourt is where he is pursuing a bachelor's degree in Mechanical Engineering. Perer Ford: Diary of a Stranger is his second book and his second attempt to explore the beautiful world of a novelist. To stay connected with him and his works, you can follow him on Instagram using the account name, Chibuzor Victor Obih or follow him on Facebook using the account name, Author Chibuzor Victor Obih.
The pathway to heaven is rough. The streets are not tarred. The bells are not ringing. Where is God?Apart from the sound of the water dripping from the tap in the bathroom, I couldn't hear anything. I couldn't even hear my heart beating inside my chest."This is going to be my last attempt," I said to myself.I tried to turn around as I felt the impact of the drug I took. I tried to move my limbs but I couldn't. I closed my eyes and saw myself dying. It was terrible. Then, suddenly, I saw Jesus Christ looking down at me. His feet, white as snow. His hair, colorful as gold. He took my arm and told me to get up."I will give you another chance, Perer," he said."Why?" I asked, confused."Because you deserve it."I didn't know what else to say. I just stood there, shocked. I stood in front of the son of God I had condemned most of my life and I couldn't say anything. All I could think about was my book. The diary I had writt
"The first time I have ever thought of killing myself was in Port-Harcourt. I wanted to make my death quick. Less painful! I wanted to pass any sharp thing through my body and bleed till I was dead. I didn't realize how painful it was until I grew older," I said to the therapist."Where were your parents when you were going through all of this?" The therapist asked."What can I say about my parents," I said, thinking. "Dad stayed with us until he divorced Mum some months ago. Then I was sent to live with my uncle here as if I was the cause of their divorce. Dad was always thinking about life. He constantly joked about God. For your information, Dad hates God. I don't know the exact reason why he hates God, I only know he hates God. Anytime someone mentions the name of God, he gets pissed.""Do you think your Dad's hatred for God is the reason why you hate God too?""I don't think so," I swallowed hard. "My case is different from Dad. I only want answers t
For days, I have been pondering about the meaning of my life and I can tell you that I haven't been gripped by the fear of it even if it is the slightest bit of it. Have you ever been scared of dying and as well feel you are not afraid of living? Only two days did I hear a preacher speak of eternal life and it resounded in my ears for as long as I could remember. It was the first time a person read a bit of my mind without knowing me. Do you think I am slowly turning to God?For so long I have dreamt of Clag and Danny. And for so long I have demanded an answer as to why I was brought to this life, but yet, there haven't been any answers. For some reasons, I reckon, I am but only a roaming lifeless mustard seed enclosed in a showcase and packaged in a nylon called life. To prove my point, think of an empty space with an empty sack lying downwards. Can you imagine that?I left home today to visit Goodness. A newness of
"Thank you for coming today," the therapist said. "I was afraid you wouldn't come because of the way you sounded when you left my office the other day.""Can we continue from where we stopped. As you can see, I am already getting tired of this introductions.""I understand. I understand, Perer."The therapist turned my file to the next page."I thought I would never say this about you but you are an incredibly smart person. You deserve a good life.""Almost everyone does," I replied."Some, more than others. Those who set goals, work very hard, stay out of trouble and complete their education deserve a better life.""Can we get on with this, ma? I am trying hard not to freeze to death.""Are you cold?""No! But I am freezing yo death inside of me.""Give me time."I watched as the woman looked at my file, raised it up, turned it over and placed it back on
"Seven children?" Miss Bisi repeated. "I am sorry, you want us to have seven children.""Yes!" Uncle Max smiled."And you mustn't apologize all the time. It is permitted for couples to share diverse opinions on children. As long as there is love, there is unity.""And you want us to have peace in a home filled with seven children?"Uncle Max didn't mind having lots of children even if it was a dozen because he had spent most of his whole life being alone. The fact that Miss Bisi wanted less than seven kids was not going to change his mind."I was thinking," I interrupted, "with the rate of inflation going on in Nigeria and with the way jobs are getting fewer, how are you guys going to raise seven children in an unstable mixed economy?""God will provide," Uncle Max smiled."Yes! God will provide," Miss Bisi added, supporting his statement. "What is on my mind is not giving birth but being referred to as a married woman. I want people to start
"I want to help you, Perer," the therapist said. "We agreed to meet two days ago. Why did you delay?""I can't answer that, ma. And you can't help me. I am already a lost cause who is swimming on the surface of the earth. My time will come and I will soon die.""I understand," the therapist wrote something down on a book. "Any memories of your childhood you might want to share with me? Since the conversation about the people you care about last time did not lead us anywhere, I thought it would be best if you tell me about your childhood.""There is nothing to talk about in my childhood. It was a moment that has passed. It can't come back again even if I want it to."“Are you happy with the way your life is right now, Perer?”"Happiness is a subjective question, ma. It can mean a lot to a lot of people. Some people are in a relationship not because they are happy about it but because th
My day started almost in a haste. It started with the early morning sun shining in a rush before the rain started falling slowly from the sky. The rain fell like fine sifted unwanted powder thrown from above. I was still in Enugu and I was still at Uncle Max's house, acting with utmost perfection as if everything was alright with me. Not for one single time did Uncle Max wonder if my silence was a new found habit or if it was a cage I had deeply fallen into. The lack of communication that started between us two weeks ago was still growing everyday as if it had an unquenchable hunger that needed to be settled. The lack of communication bothered me as I counted the number of days remaining for the year to end. One hundred and fifty two days!"Miss Bisi is coming today," Uncle Max said as he served me a plate of rice and stew. "She has been asking questions about you and I have been finding lies to tell her. What is really wrong with you, Perer?"I felt my jaw drop but I
I did not talk. I could not talk as I sat on the white plastic chair. The therapist repeated the question, and again, instead of a response, all she got from me was a bland dying stare."Perer, relax. I want you to relax. I hope the plastic chair is comfortable?""Relaxation is not something that I fancy these days. Say what you want to say. I will answer as much as I can answer.""Alright," the therapist wore her glasses. "Perer, it may interest you to be informed that I have read your file over and over again and I still don't understand what your problem is. You said you are not suicidal but yet you are depressed. Do you care to explain what you mean by that statement? I will give you time to think about my question while I go through your file. I have decided to not charge you because I admire your courage to seek help. It is not common for young people of your age to admit they are suicidal. They see it as a crime!"I inhaled softly as I climbed into