EJIMA – ​EPISODE 2: THE MAID IN THE SHORT DRESS 

Chisom staggers out of her house, almost falls and then grips the railing on her verandah.

Her head is swirling, thoughts jostling each other in her head, full of red stains and broken flesh and the vivid images throw a hook down into her stomach and try to pull up bile. She retches and clamps a hand over her mouth, careful not to look back at the door she has left open behind her, frantic to find something to anchor her to the moment. Continue reading

The Buffet

 

“Nigeria is a poultry. The masses are the hens, the government is the farmer. And we are all waiting for christmas.”

– Adeosun Adams Mercy


It was the eve of the presidential election, the night the General was declared winner. We were at Aso Rock, eating meat and dancing reggae. It was a buffet.  Continue reading

Blasphemy

violent-protests-ii

Following the outrage of young Nigerian writers on social media, and a report by Daily post, Pandemonium struck in Wambai area of Kano State, Nigeria on Thursday after angry Muslims youths allegedly beheaded a female trader over allegations that she blasphemed Prophet Mohammed.

Here is Daily Post’s report of the horror.

 

Below is also one of the near-fictional stories it has evoked. Victor Enesi, a young Nigerian writer has given a deeper perspective of the happening, carefully relaying the horror in relatable terms and with familiar names.

The outrage didn’t stop with the fiction writers. Secular voices on social media have also used this barbaric mob-action to call-out the ‘evil’ of religion.

Obinna Aligwekwe goes on to relate the horrendous act with the activity of terrorist group- Boko Haram, and offers a way out of the quagmire.

 

In all the outrage, the wise words of Chinua Achebe in his book- Things fall apart, was aptly brought in to put a red-cap on the matter.

***

 

A dress to have

Dissociative Identity Disorder_1

Inside the questioning room, wrists cuffed to the table, I listen to the two detectives on the other side of the glass divide until a female voice joins in. Gbemi. The one I have been waiting for.

“Aren’t we just a terrible bunch? She says. “So we arrested a lady just because we found a few other ladies chilling in her basement?”

They laugh, and when I laugh too, they stare in at me. I wink at them. I see their growing confusion; I shouldn’t be seeing or hearing them through the soundproof partition.

“I’ll speak to her.” I say aloud, relishing the shock on their faces. Continue reading

This Present Darkness

 

“When the roll is called up yonder…” he hummed along to Bimpe’s favorite hymn as they all got ready to leave the house. He buttoned up his jacket and watched Juli help TimTim with his shoelaces. As she tied the laces into an ‘eight’ shape, he froze. It was happening again.

 

He could taste it at the back of his tongue; the sourness of something sinister coming. Continue reading

Family Time //By Joe Aito

It so happened that I slept by 10 p.m on Thursday, 27th of March 2002 and as it seems, woke up six months later, on the 4th of September.

I woke precisely by 1 a.m because my phone rang. Dede called to wish me a happy birthday and ended up laughing me to scorn for not remembering the day was my birthday. The call ended and I woke up again by 4p.m. to another happy birthday call. This was from grandmother. It was getting creepy. I checked the calendar on my Nokia 3310. It said 4th of September. Yes, the 4th was my birthday but how did this day arrive from yesterday? Hurriedly, I checked all the calendars in th
e house. They all were on the September page. The world had conspired to play a fast one on me. Continue reading

Baby Swap

There was no one in sight. From the hospital gate right to the wards.

“Hello” I shouted. I felt a chill as the echo returned.

Empty hospital beds, no nurses, no patients, why the hell was the hospital open. I was contemplating going to another hospital when I heard a baby’s cry. I traced the sound. Alone in the maternity ward was the most beautiful baby I’d ever seen.

I sat by the bed and sang to the baby.

“Soft kitty,

Warm kitty,

Little ball of fur.

Happy kitty,

Sleepy kitty,

Purr Purr Purr”

I had learnt it from the ‘Big bang’ series but it was lovely enough and made the baby smile.

Two hours passed and I was still there. Engulfed in the ambience of the baby’s beauty and innocence.

Five hours passed. Six. Seven. My wife called but I didn’t pick up. Nothing else in the world was important.

Suddenly, the baby held my thumb and next thing, I was on the bed, watching a man in a black suit walk away with a grin. I couldn’t move. I tried to scream but only baby noises emanated my mouth.

I was there. Days and night. I couldn’t tell how long I waited.

One fateful day, I heard footsteps and then a “Is anybody here?” I cried out loudly immediately.

I watched a young lady walk up to me. “What a pity” I thought “This fine girl will have to be stuck here for a good while”

Top Horror Stories by Nigerian Writers in 2015.

Going through all the stories on thedarknotes.com, these ten short horror stories still stand out, giving as much chills as when I first read them last year. I have attached worthy snippets from each story and corresponding links to the full stories.

Enjoy them and by all means, don’t forget to read N0. 8 which is my personal favorite.

 

  1. The Birthing by Walter Ude.

“…And then, the newborn’s eyes snapped open, stabbing at Sharon with a gaze that was startling sharp and crystal clear, and his rosebud lips appeared to move over the hissed words, “I know. And I’m here.”

https://thedarknotes.com/2015/04/15/the-birthing/

 

  1. The Achuba Collector (1) by Joe Aito

“…  I do not ask for your mercy. I ask that you give us a fighting chance, a chance to survive, just as that Achuba gave you when he threw you into the well.” You say, stuttering on in fear.”

https://thedarknotes.com/2015/03/11/the-achuba-collector/

 

  1. In The Shadow Of Darkness by Igbokwe Yakadude

“…So we continue. Neck; slender. Hand; long and graceful, with pianist fingers. Skin; desert sand color and silky smooth. Boobs, with some flushed hesitation. I swallow. Full, I say. Generous. She laughs a trill. Waist, slim. Bum; she has an hourglass figure. Legs; Naomi Campbell…

…Here we are, two strangers being friendly in the shadows…”

https://thedarknotes.com/2015/12/28/in-the-shadow-of-darkness-by-igbokwe-the-yakadude-ebuka/

Continue reading