Mutallib

I descended from my mother's womb in a tense time; I opened my eyes out of an enormous curiosity of a newly born baby and read the bold letters of pain on mother's innocent face. While in the womb , I had been so anxious to feel the worldly air —  even kicking part of the womb with my feet softer than a cotton – to remind mother that the eagerness to feel the earthly life reached its peak. The very day mother let me out, I felt myself sprawled on the cold floor of the earth, I felt the quite difference of the new environment characterized by a harsh weather and a thick smoke of firewood coming from the kitchen. I began to cry – 'inya' 'wuya' 'inya' wuya'... But surprisingly, I heard and saw people celebrating, some young girls going around to announce my arrival. All the celebrants seemed oblivious of my mixed words of a baby's cry 'inya' and the Hausa word for 'wuya' lucidly translated to 'hardship' in English. All thi...

It was an august event I attended in one of the African most popular cities. My readers may likely think I will be writing about the striking beauty of the city or the perfectly organized, well publicized and heavily attended event that lasted for five consecutive days. But as a storyteller, unlike a journalist, the popular issues are not always the only subject of writing. The unknown or disregarded issues too are conveyed to the hearing of the deaf by a storyteller through the use of his wonderfully imaginative and creative tools. I was fortunate to sit next to an unknown man who attractively dressed in his navy blue suit with pair of rectangular transparent eye glasses. Glory be to God that this man has fed my brain through the throat of my ears and here I am feeding my readers too. The man, grey-haired seemed to be in his 60s, well educated in the Western-oriented schools, smiled at me, gently rubbed my shoulders after I greeted him with utmost humility and respect. It was a c...

"I do not love him!" "I do not love him!" "Please, stop taking me to his house." She loudly cried out in a tone of grief which continued until she was pushed inside the car. Upon hearing this voice around 8 o'clock in the night which was accompanied by the noise of women, my curiosity mounted to the sky. I had just passed the place but not very far from it when I heard the voice. In order to quench my boiling curiosity, I returned. It was a young pretty girl in her elegant bridal attire taken to her matrimonial home. I learnt that the wedding took place the previous day while everyone knew that the girl did not love the man.That was how she was forcefully taken to the man whom she had no inch of love for. I kept walking to where I was going, thinking and foreseeing what might happen when the bride was left alone in the room with the groom. I stumbled and nearly fell down because my attention travelled very far away and left my body under the contro...