Author Archives: Arewadudu

About Arewadudu

The photo is one of Eromomen, taken by the photographer, Kayla Varley. It strongly reminds me of myself. And yes, I also wear my hair short and natural just like hers.


Pitch Dark by Kume Ozoro

Pitch Dark

It’s dark in here, very dark. I didn’t mind much initially because I slept most of the time. But I’m stronger now, so I stay awake a lot more.

The darkness bothers me. I have to sit head facing the floor, and that too is awkward. The sitting; endless hours of sitting.

Sometimes I turn or move around, but mostly I just sit with my head facing the floor.

This is a cramped space by any standard, and it is all the space I have. This space is too tiny to do much in, so I sit and stare. And sometimes I think; like now.

The fare here is just as bad. The things I’m forced to eat. Whose idea was this anyway? Once in the early days I got drunk. It was such a glorious feeling. This is grub, but don’t let them hear that, they call it food.

All I do in this tiny space is sit upside down, kick around sometimes, eat and stare. I sleep every now and again to refresh myself. For what? I don’t know. There’s so much more I could be doing: body building, educating myself on the ways of the world, giving back to society and other whatnots. But you can’t do any of that in this cramped space. No sir!

I’m tired of being here. I just twiddle my thumb and roll around. I don’t even enjoy the kicking. I have been here for too long. How do I get out?

Think. Think.

I love listening to music. I don’t have any preferences – not much of that around here.

I have to get out.

I am going to be here for a long time if they have any say about it. Have to make sure they don’t. Have to get out.

Must think very hard. Think. It’s the easiest thing to do.

I bump into the sac and it vibrates. That might be because of the fluid in here. I have gotten so used it, my only wonder is how it never gets in my eyes.

Just to be sure, I bump into the sac again. It vibrates and this time I know it wasn’t the fluid. I almost jump for joy. But then, I can’t jump in this space.

I try kicking hard with my foot, it moves so suddenly I pee on myself. I don’t bother with that, they will clean me up.

They seem to be agitated by the movements I’m making, so I sit still for a while. I have  a good feeling that this is my way out.

I poke the sac with my finger but nothing happens.

I wait, biding my time; plotting my escape. I know it’s been a day by my meal times. I give them some time to change their mind about keeping me here. They don’t and I know it’s time to move into action.

I feed again and with renewed vigour I begin bumping and kicking. I bump and kick, only stopping to feed. I lose track of the passage of time. I bump and kick hard as I can because my life depends on it.

When I fall out, I don’t know who is more surprised, them or myself. I actually laugh when I realise I’m free. I have been born.

This is so wonderful. I’m a baby, a human baby. And there are so many faces staring at me.

I want to skip, but they soon have me in a bath, scrubbing away at the muck, preparing me for their world.

I don’t know who thought up a womb for people to grow into babies; I sure could have done without the experience. It doesn’t matter now. I’m on my way to doing those great things I’ve only been hearing about: walking, running, school and so much more 😀

antenatal scans

Antenatal Scans Source:

Categories: Lil Pieces of Fiction, Reads like Poetry | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , | 7 Comments

Blood Bond

bleeding red rose

Whenever they talk about it, they say I was raped. But I don’t agree. When I tell them that, they say I’m in denial.

The truth is that there was no physical coercion; no clothes were torn off. In fact, he never touched me.

And also, he was a gentleman. I guess that was the problem. He conducted himself with the utmost propriety. It wasn’t that he was trying to be deceitful, that’s really how he was.

We met in a most ordinary manner – at a bus stop. I’m not sure what was different about him. I turned and he was there. Thus began our whirlwind romance.

The hilarious thing was how everybody loved him. He was sweet. The kind who loves your mother and plays with your younger siblings. And he was a looker.

I’m lying on the floor, bleeding. He is sitting in a chair and smiling at me. Continue reading

Categories: Private Journal | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | 15 Comments

Fight & Flight

Persuaded?It wasn’t meant to sting, but it stung nonetheless. Not the whispers behind my back, not the thinly concealed mockery, but the words flung at my face. An accusation begging denial. My breathing comes in short gasps, and I cannot find the words to refute them. The accusations hang in the air, and I let them, sagging my shoulders in shame.

My sigh is one of despair. This is all I can do to stop the groan of sadness rising up within me. My first thought is to run and hide, but that won’t do. Nor will my next thought – to throw caution to the wind and fly like a kite without a home.

“You think too much!” he yells at me, as he unsuccessfully tries to slide his hand between my thighs.
“You need to let go and experience things…” his murmurs meet my unyielding lips. Continue reading

Categories: Private Journal | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | 10 Comments

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