Pen & Paper

Pen & Paper


When my boyfriend was through beating me up, he said “Oya, let’s go to the family reunion.” I gladly obeyed as I dared not say otherwise. I quickly dashed into the bathroom and cleaned myself up. It’s not a new thing… I don’t even shed tears when it occurs anymore. About an hour later, “Are you not done or how many years would it take you to get dressed?” he shouted. Although I was far from ready, I quickly dashed out of the room. “I’m ready honey”, I told him.
And I was ready.

I hopped into his Honda Accord End of Discussion car and we zoomed off. Fifteen minutes later, we got to my parents place. His friends and my friends were gathered there…
While the drinking and dancing was on, he knelt down and brought out a ring. Everyone paused what they were doing and had their eyes fixed on both of us. “Kate”, he started “Will you marry me?” The look on his face was terrifying and tears ran out of my eyes like a stream. I remembered the beating I’d gotten from him. I even remembered how he would collect my salary from me and would even beat me more if I spent a kobo without him giving me permission to do so. All these and many more I remembered…
“Patrick, YES! I will marry you” was my response. People clapped and congratulated me. Though, it sounds crazy, but at forty years of age, why won’t I say YES to him?

When my Literature teacher was teaching us yesterday, he talked about the grass not always being green and this made me remember brother Alex who I have known since I was a kid. Back then, he always talked about going to Obodo Oyinbo to make big, real big money. He sold his ‘spare-parts’ shop at Aba to fund his traveling expenses. After a lot of scamming from sharp guys, he got there.

About six months later, he started having serious issues and by the eighth month, he was deported back to our village in Umu Oziri in Ikeduru, Imo State. When he got to the village, we thought brother Alex had come to visit us and build a huge house for my mama. But one month, two months, three months, one year, five years, ten years brother Alex did not go back. This is his fifteenth year.
The lady Lydia he got pregnant in promise to take her to Obodo Oyinbo is still at home hoping and waiting. If only brother Alex had improved his spare part business and not desperately wanting to run to Obodo Oyinbo for oyinbo things, he would, by now, have been rich.



It is a popular saying that God cannot lie but my recent experience has made me doubt that. I’d never seen Sandra cry before so when she called me on the phone in tears, I was felt very uneasy. I took off to her place soon as I could.

I’d never been in a serious relationship before so when I told my parents about someone I’m in love with for them to pray about it, they were stunned wondering what had made me use my initiative for once. I met Sandra some months ago and for a long time, I’ve never felt alive being with someone. I love her and enjoy the chemistry between us. Sandra told me she was going to tell her pastor to pray about us. Although I’m not really a church-goer, I was not worried because my father who is a pastor and my sister who is a prophetess had prayed and said that I can continue with the relationship. My dad said “Son, God is very happy with the relationship.” That has strengthened my confidence as regards Sandra and I.

So I knew that since God is the same, Sandra’s pastor would see the same thing.
“Kunle,” Sandra began in tears “my Pastor said we can’t be together.” I thought she was joking at first but seeing her weep, I knew she was damn serious. I couldn’t believe it. But my dad who is a Pastor said that we can be together. And even my sister who is a Prophetess. So what the hell is going on? Did they not hear God speak? Or is her Pastor deceiving her…? I love Sandra… I love Sandra…

Suddenly, I woke up to see a crowd of people standing above me. Someone said “He is alive. Let us rush him to the hospital”, I was confused. Why was I lying on the ground? Why is there blood all over? Where is the car I was driving…?


This post is a collection of fables (short stories that teach morals) from the writer, Similoluwa Makinde.
Simi or pentalk as popular called is a campus journalist, a freelance writer and a 500 level law student in the University of Ibadan, Oyo state.

My sincere gratitude to him for this opportunity to feature some of his works.


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