The Rita Side

(Inspired by a true story) I was not even supposed to be at the lounge that night. It was not my shift, but Gina was so sure that her boyfriend would propose. So she begged me a few weeks ahead of that day and as the only male who was a huge fan of love stories, I agreed to take the shift. I was early as usual, ready to serve the drinks like it was my calling. If I could, I would have been studying engineering in the university not too far from the lounge where I worked. However, I neither had the money nor the brains to get into the school. Three flunked aptitude tests and my father's unpaid pensions were proof enough. So that night, I reluctantly wore my rehearsed fake smile and started the shift. I knew when she walked in and although I did not turn, I could tell when she approached me. "Have you seen any tall man here?" she asked. "He is very fair with beards." It was obvious that she had not come for me, but it did not stop her words from shatte

One eyebrow looked slightly higher than the other. You really had to peek closely to notice it, but no one was going  to do that. Not if I could help it anyway. Nneka had been on my makeup for nearly two hours  and our guests were slowly trickling in. Anyone else would have gotten a memorable scolding from me, but not Nneka. She was doing the job for free. "You know I am your friend. Remember me when you go to obodo oyibo o! " she had said just before she picked the brush. To show how serious she was, she did not touch my face until I said I would never forget her after leaving the country. It seemed like a fair deal, whether I kept my end of the bargain or not. "Nne, are you not done?" my mother asked her impatiently. Nneka was part of the family too and my mother took her like a daughter. "Ola's husband's people are here already and you know that ndi obodo oyibo adighi egbu oge ." White people do not waste time . "Mummy, I just n

"Praise Master Jesus!" "Hallelujah!!!" "The spirit is moving. Can you feel it?" "Yes pastor!" The energy in the church was palpable. Women were chanting meaningless words and men were dancing like snakes in a witch's festival. It was a strange scene for me. I had been an Anglican all my life until last month when my father died and I had no one to blame but God. I had done everything the church asked me to do. All the prayer groups and holy oil did nothing. I could not continue in a church that did not provide my most basic needs. Sister Titi, a colleague at my office had noticed that I did not make my usual silly jokes at work anymore, and she probed. I was a little embarrassed to tell her, but I was glad that I had someone to share my pain with. The least I could do was finally honor the invite she had tendered weekly since she was employed. "Come to my church," she said after asking how I was coping. It was two w

(Inspired by Twitter writing contest) Story 1 I watched as my uncle left the altar happily with his new wife and the memories gripped me. "Come. I will buy you coke," he used to say just before he fiddled with my penis. After he forced himself on me, he threatened to tell daddy about the CD I broke if I ever spoke. It was painful, but so was my old man's belt and honestly, I feared that more. That afternoon, while people struggled with the caterers for their food, I pulled his wife aside and poured out my heart. She smiled and patted my shoulder. "We like it kinky. Join us when you can," she said and I pushed her away in disgust. How could she even suggest that? Did she really hear me clearly? Her husband was a paedophile and a rapist! How could a normal human being smile at such evil? I joined the honeymooners that night. I had no choice. The man had already destroyed me in a way that no one else could understand. As I let his wife lead m

"Ada, come and see o!" I shut my eyes tightly like her voice was causing me physical pain. Slowly and grudgingly, I pushed my jotter aside. I was preparing for the entrance exam into LUTH. It was my dream university, but I feared that, with the way my mother was beckoning on me every second, it might be just that: a dream. My father had just gotten her a new phone and it seemed like shells had fallen from her eyes. Everything was exciting to her. Whatsapp was her new home and she never failed to send all the annoying chain messages she received to everyone she knew. It was like a civil duty to her. For me she always went the extra mile by making me  read the messages with her. The more I thought of all those frustrating, wasted  minutes of my life which I spent reading falsified information from her overly bright screen, the more I realized that I had to pass or pass the entrance exam. Spending an extra year in the house would definitely be the death of me. My mo

Have you ever had people knock on your door at that exact moment you are about to fall asleep, and when you open the door, you see two ‘sisters’ and a ‘brother’ with bibles clutched tightly to their chest and the fakest smiles plastered on their faces? I used to hate them so much because my conscience would always get them best of me and I would let them in and pretend to listen while conjuring ways to kill them. Guess who eventually became one of them? Ding ding ding! Yours truly. In my first year, I bumped into an association in my church where evangelism was the norm and I was too proud (or too afraid that thunder would fire me) to leave. So my preaching life began and I knew almost immediately that it was not my scene. Over the years, I learned to accept, and maybe even enjoy it occasionally. I have had so many strange experiences. For some, I have prayed for the ground to swallow me, for others I have prayed for the same fate for my listeners - judge me all you wan

Bang bang bang... Anna turned grudgingly and threw a pillow over her head. Bang bang bang... "Anna is not home," she called out in a fake voice. "Go away." "Anna, I know you are in there. Please let me in," the voice called. It was Tori, Anna's bestfriend. Anna kicked into the air in frustration and dragged herself off the bed. How can you knock on your someone's door by 3am? Once she met her friend at the door, she knew she could not return to sleep. Tori's eyes were puffy and her hair was a huge mess. She looked like one who had seen a ghost. Anna led her to the kitchen without saying a word and pulled out a bottle of water from the fridge. Tori stared at it for a little while before uncapping the bottle and taking a big gulp. Anna noticed that her hand was shaky and new tears had formed in her eyes. "Start talking," Anna commanded. "Someone entered my bedroom through my window," she finally said. One loo

He was sleeping.  He had that silly smile on his face too. You know that smile that made me listen to him when he walked up to me at my sister's wedding? Yes that one. He wore it through our relationship and to the wedding too. I remembered smiling right back while he repeated those stereotyped vows that the priest made him say. I remembered letting him take off my gown that night and swearing that we would do nothing else if he did not read his real vows first as he had promised. I had my vows written too and the paper was safely tucked in my phone pouch, but I wanted him to go first. He had his in his left pocket and as he pulled it out carelessly, I watched him. He had never been a writer and I was honestly ready to accept anything he had written. To be fair, I had been celibate for years and I was too horny to care about perfect words. Nevertheless, curiosity had gotten the best of me and I needed to know what he had written down. Four years had passed, but I s

Once upon a lifetime, I was God's very own. It was almost like I did not need to go to church to have a conversation  with God. I could just start one while walking, no matter how silly,  but it was a great time of my life. I had never been the pray-before-you-rise or pray-before-bed kind of girl. I was just the girl that talked to God when I was brushing,  having a bath, in-between classes,  etc. Still I showed up in church whenever I could. It was my peaceful place...my escape  from all the madness. I used to call myself lucky and unlucky at the same time. I have to be the clumsiest person  I know (even today). No one else makes tea and spills the beverage/milk/hot water every time. No one has tripped more times than me. No one makes more mistakes or bad decisions than I do.  But on the other hand, I've had the craziest luck too. I fell sick last year for about three days, but before then, my last sickness was menstrual cramps and occasionally catarrh and I am dating