Hey dears,
Please read a part of my book and tell me what you think.

I WELCOME WHOLESOME CRITICISMS!

Thanks.




‘Papa Ifeoma! You are a hard hearted man! Why are you doing this? Eh, what is the meaning of this one now? How can a father be so uncaring about his children’s happiness, eh kwa? What is wrong with Uju marrying a man she said she loves, or Ifeoma moving to her own apartment at twenty nine, for Christ sake? Is she not old enough?’

Mother immediately rushed after Father as he abruptly stood up, making his way out of the bedroom. She had been standing by the edge of their matrimonial bed trying to make father see reasons with her, when he abruptly stood up from the bed were he had laid down reading a newspaper.
He was tired of his wife’s rambling and made his way to the parlour, trying to avoid her at all cost.
Mother followed suit and as she made a quick dash after Father, her ‘ankara’ wrapper which she had tied loosely around her waist fell to the ground exposing her black sequenced simi that had a sizeable tear towards the tail end. She quickly grabbed the wrapper tying it back with one hand, while opening the bedroom door with the other and ran after Father.
She pounced down heavily into one of the brown sofa chairs and the sofa bounced back as a result of the weight it had to carry, yelping for help.

Facing Father, she resumed her rant.

‘Ndu, you will not allow Ifeoma move to a place of her own, you will not allow Uju marry. Papa Ifeoma, ogini zi? What is it again? Why don’t you want Ify to get a new apartment? What is wrong with that? All these other unmarried Lagos girls that are living on their own, have two to three cars and are working are they not people’s children too? Why are you caging these children as if they are animals? Can’t you see Ifeoma’s state? Ndu, Zaa’m. Ndu, Answer me ’.

Mother usually called father by his native name Ndu, meaning ‘Life’ but when she was in an angry and quarrelsome mood which was usually too often, she called him by his full name, Nduka! ‘Life is the greater’.
I had never heard mother call father ‘baby’ ‘obim-my heart’, daddy, or other pet names I heard aunty Imelda call uncle Emma whenever they came to our house or the other nice but Chinese sounding kind of names most of the wives in Nollywood films called their husbands like Ornee, Duhlyn, Swi-harrt, Baebi, and the likes.
Well, it wasn’t really mother’s fault as she hardly watched those nice romantic movies where the lover boy chases his girlfriend through the pine forest and buys her ice creams while whirling her around in slow motion.
Mother watched the ones that had the authoritative female character playing roles where she was poisoning her husband or controlling her household and then turning her husband into a whimpering and annoying subservient child.
Severally, whenever Grandma Enugu was in Lagos for her routine check ups, she usually rebuked Mother that it was wrong to call your husband by his name, as it does not show respect for him.
Mother had told Grandma that she will call her husband by whichever or whatever name suited her fancy. I was horrified at mother’s reply as I stood listening behind the dining curtain.
Mother could be like a tiger in heat at times.

Grandma Enugu was mother’s mother and later when mother had left the dining room and grandma entered into the room which she shared with Uju and I whenever she came to Lagos, I followed suit, sneaking in from behind the curtain.

‘Mama, what make calling your husband by his first name wrong?’ I asked her.

‘Nwa’m, my child, it is rude to do so. She simply replied’.

Though not much of an explanation, she had offered that one calls her husband, nna anyi, meaning our father.
Grandma then prayed that I don’t turn out like mother when I got married and though I did not immediately say amen as I wanted to be in support of mother before Grandma, as I left the room, I cried out a loud amen with my two hands clasped together and my eyes looking up towards the high heavens.

‘What state is Ifeoma in? Father asked. Mami Ifeoma, what state is she in? You said I should answer you, abi? Is she leprous or dying? What is wrong with her staying in this house? Why does she need to move to a new place? Is this house not big enough to contain all of us, or you prefer that she lives on her own so that all these useless Lagos boys that don’t have any meaningful thing doing can prey on her, okwia? Is that so?

‘Lagos boys ke, Papi Ifeoma? Mother asked quizzically’.

‘No, Fulani men, Mama Ifeoma. Yes, don’t you see those good for nothing young men who are always roaming around town looking for where the devil will put them to use? None of my daughters will live on their own except they get married. Ifeoma will continue to live and go to work from this house until she finds a reasonable young man that is willing to come for her hand in marriage’.

‘How can Ifeoma or Uju see reasonable men to marry when you keep hovering over them like a mother hawk, eh? Mother continued. Allow these children to mix freely with their age mate, No, okay, let them bring their friends to the house nko, you will not allow. All you do is monitor their every movement, what they wear, if they painted their fingers with red cutex or with nail hardener, or if they used attachment to weave their hair. Allow Ifeoma to get a place of her own so that young men who are interested in her can court her properly without any interference and she can settle down quickly’.

‘I ask you, am I preventing any young man interested in my daughter to court her? Or is it Effiong or whatever his name is that you brought home the other day that you want me to marry Ifeoma off to? Your school joke? A man that hardly takes his bath? I see you don’t have anything important to say, any day Ifeoma brings someone home as the person she wants to marry, I will give my blessings.
Till then, get inside the kitchen and look for something to do. At least you will be putting yourself to some quality use. I will not insult myself or my daughter by marrying her off to a pauper or a never-do-well, father replied’.

‘Okay, what of Uju that has found someone, what is keeping her from getting married? Mother retorted.

‘Uju? Twenty four years old Uju? Mama Ifeoma, I started training that girl in the university from year one and I will continue till her final year! She had better put her head in her book oh, advise her. This one she is going up and down saying she is engaged, she is just deceiving herself. Whenever she shows me her degree result and certificate, then let her bring the man that wants to marry her’ said father.


‘Papi Ify, I have said my own oh, Mother began, hmn, if you want your daughters to grow up and turn into old maids in their father’s house, that one concerns you. But I will not fold my hand and allow you traumatize my daughter Uju for me.
You know Ifeoma is already 29years and yet, ’

‘And yet what? What if she is already twenty nine years or thirty five years old? Father thundered, heaving heavily. Your daughter Uju? Oh, Ifeoma is not your daughter? So I should marry her to any riff-raff that comes along just because she is twenty nine, hmn? All the other twenty nine and thirty something women that are not yet married, are they dead? Go and busy yourself this woman.’

‘Well I know what to do, mother replied’.

Father hissed and resumed reading his paper as Mother got up walked into the kitchen swinging her large behind fiercely as she had done several years ago at Ojali-Ndu.
Father peered at her departing large frame and her waist twisting beneath his brown framed reading glasses the shape of the saucer mother usually used to serve important visitors groundnut and biscuit and with a sad smile, he stood up and entered the bedroom.

I don’t know how father got the courage to reply mother like that because most times, he usually kept quiet when she raised her voice at him as if he was terrified of her or left the house to take a stroll.


So, what ya fink?
Thank you.

No comment

What's happening people? Aint it good enough? Please just be free to say your Mind!

IniUbom:

No comment

Why is that?

I would say the story is not bad.
But let me ask,Is it a flash fiction or a short story? If it is a short story,then it needs
to be developed more.

And of course edited.For instance,the Igbo words ought to be italicised.Dont forget
it is dialect.But I think their use is commendable(I'm not Igbo by the way).

Then your dialogues need to be properly punctuated.

Best of luck all the same.
And keep writing.

The narrative is all over the place. You're using the POV of one of the children but that of the omnipresent author is coming in too. I like the story line but you need to tighten up the dialogue and necessary punctuations. Well done and keep writing.


You can give me a review on mine too. Thanks

@WokarGwa, thanks, ve noted your points.
@Mynewhite, Alrite gurl, would tighten it up as you said. Wld also check up yours.