A Review of Vincent de Paul’s Inevitable Desires: First Love by Nduka Ekeh


Upon the backdrop of his debut thriller, Twisted Times: Son of Man, Vincent de Paul who’s not relenting on his oars serves us another literary dish garnished with all the requisite ingredients that would leave the reader famished for more like an Oliver Twist.

While reading Inevitable Desires: First Love, which is a continuation of the story of the repentant villain, Kennedy Paul Maina, I thought it was going to be another clichéd love story but boy was I wrong.

Over a decade later after Ken met Hedwig Sanzi Joe as a teenage school girl in the Thika Catholic church where he served as a sacristan, they were now lovers. Heddie fresh out of college got a job as a journo with the Imperial Media Services in Kenya, on the other hand Ken her love interest got kicked out from the Catholic church. He got another job as a chauffeur to the Parish Council Chairman, Richard Ondieki.

Things soon went south when Ken got arrested, he was the prime suspect for the murder of Justin Otieno, a KRA (Kenya Revenue Agency) staff and part of the Catholic church finance committee alongside Ken who was involved in the committee unofficially.

Heddie was scandalized and heart broken when she found out about Ken’s notorious criminal past from Terry, the lawyer in charge of Ken’s trial who knew him while they were in the university. Heddie couldn’t come to terms with Ken’s criminal past, she was crossed at him for leaving her in the dark this made her to doubt his innocence in the crime he was accused of.

She later got married to Joram, The Permanent Secretary to the Minister of State for Finance just to get over Ken. Turned out her wedlock to the PS wasn’t a bed of roses as she had envisaged, she later found out her beloved hubby was screwing her Bestie, Liz, behind closed doors.

While things were falling apart for Heddie, Ken got lucky, Mary Ondieki the wife to his former boss who framed him up came forward to testify against her husband in court. Her testimony plus the evidence she presented in court was enough to get Ken acquitted of the charges levelled against him.

When Heddie learned of Ken’s innocence in the murder trial, and discovered her husband was also involved in the shenanigans that led to Ken’s incarceration coupled with the heartbreak and betrayal he caused her by cheating with her best friend, she decided to take revenge on all those involved.

As much as I enjoyed reading Inevitable Desires, there were some flaws I observed in the narrative. I feel the second part of the book which is a throwback narrated by Heddie was a tad overstretched and it sort of slowed down the pace of the novel, an occasional flashback here and there could have been better while the pace of the story was maintained so the reader doesn’t get bored.

I also observed the characters in the novel didn’t sound like Kenyans rather they sound so American that one might think the story was set in the States in lieu of Kenya. A little bit of code mixing would have added some flavour and indigenous verisimilitude to the story.

Well despite these flaws the story is still a very interesting read, kudos to the writer Vincent de Paul, he deserves some accolades.

About the author

Vincent de Paul is the author of ten books, including three collections of Flashes of Vice, four poetry collections, and a novel. He is also a freelance writer, published on several dailies in Kenya, and his poetry has been published in two anthologies in East and West Africa. He has a diploma in Creative Writing from the Writers Bureau, UK. You can read some of his writings on his blogs:

1. http://www.poeticjustnes.com

2. http://www.flashesofvices.com

3. http://www.elovepoetry.wordpress.com.


Fellowship Time Out


I got to work today and I met my General Manager at the door to the Banquet Hall. She signaled me to go in, I thought she meant me to get something for her inside but I was fucking wrong. A fellowship was going on inside.

I had never joined them in their routine Wednesday fellowship and didn’t plan on joining them today not even the bossy GM is going to change that, so I resolved.

I was there for a while and when I felt no one was observing, I walked away. Few minutes later the GM was at my office.

“Clinton, what are you doing?”
“I’m updating something for someone mah.”
“Leave whatever you’re doing now, let Oluchi (my colleague) take care of it. And you have to go back to the Banquet hall now.”

In my mind I was like, the fuck is wrong with this woman.

So she doesn’t take my deviance for insubordination, I walked out of the office towards the exit to the Banquet Hall where prayers, and other religious activities I so don’t want to partake in, are taking place. I was headstrong on not going back, so I made a detour to the convenience. That’s killing two birds with a stone for me ’cause I was really pressed. I had to take a dump. A prolonged one that is.

I walked cockily back to the Cyber Cafe that doubles as my goddamn office minutes later. I thought that would be the end of it but my, I was fucking wrong. The GM was as obstinate, or even more, as me. She rang the intercom and said I should come over to her office. I knew, I just knew, why she asked me over.

Well, she’s the boss so I had to go. Albeit, reluctantly. Afterall she had already surcharged my yet to be paid February emolument. Neither her name nor her initials were in my goddamn good books. Our relationship was a perfunctory boss-employee kind. And that’s how it’s going to stay till I leave (very soon).

“Clinton so I asked you to go back to the fellowship and you refused right?”

There she goes again. I wasn’t in the mood for some questions and answers session.

I decided to play it cool.

“I was pressed mah, I had to use the convenience.” I answered.

“So you have resorted to lies right?”

I was livid. How dare she calls me a liar. My mind went ballistic.

“I’m not lying mah, I was really pressed.” I took to the defensive but something tugged within me not to anymore. Just bare it all to her. She asked for it anyway.

“But come to think of it mah, I don’t think attending it should be compulsory for one to attend the fellowship.”

“It’s compulsory!”

“What if I told you I were Muslim?”

“Then you would have to go and work in a Muslim firm.” She blurted out.

That was the most insensitive comment I had ever heard coming from a supposed GM who should be pro at people management. What a faux pas.

The fellowship is actually the brainchild of the CEO’s wife who doubles as the coordinator. The irony is, the CEO had never for once attended any of their meetings. So why should it then be binding on me? Or is it because I’m some insignificant employee, who has to kiss the ass of some menopausal boss so i don’t get laid off? Fuck that shit. I’m not buying any of it. If push comes to shove, I’m ready to walk away with my head held high for sticking it out for my principles without kissing anyone’s black ass.

“Mah, I have my own principles and besides forcing me to participate in such Christian meeting against my will is outrighly undermining my fundamental human rights.”

“I have made myself clear to you, it’s either you attend or you go look for work elsewhere.” She declared with the finality of a Judge banging the gavel to decide a case.

I walked out of her office even more determined than I had when I walked in.

She had better start typing my sack letter ’cause I sure has fuck won’t budge come next Wednesday.

Photo credit: Public Domain Vectors

Review: ‘Flashes of Vice: Vol III’ by Vincent de Paul


Flashes of Vice (Volume III) is a collection of 44 creatively strewn short stories or flash fiction. What is remarkable about this collection is that it isn’t just a potpourri of stale stories duplicated in numbers just to make a voluminous collection. Far from it. This particular collection is one that will have any reader spellbound by its intrigues and no-hold-bare-it-all prosaic aloofness. The author Vincent de Paul is not a neophyte in the literary-dom, he’s a seasoned and well profiled Kenyan writer who knows his ink just like a chef to his onions. This collection is the third in his series of vivid flash fiction stories.

The collection premiers with the opener ‘quote-story’ titled 72 Virgins which is sort of a preview to subsequent stories of similar theme and scope.  Virgins in Short Supply is an epistolary story from Allah writing to Terrorists who go on suicide bombing and killing rampage in the belief that they shall be rewarded with 72 virgins in Jannah (heaven). Don’t Die a Virgin is another shocker story of a virgin girl who after escaping by the whiskers a terrorist attack, made up her mind to whore her virginity while on earth so when she died she won’t be some virginal offering to a bunch of horny terrorists in heaven.

Though terrorism is a recurring theme in the collection, other virgin themes were also explored clinically. Love and sex is another recurring theme. Unlucky 13 is the story about a young career lady who seems to be having a bad day on her birthday until things turned around in the latter part of the day, she got home thinking she had been burgled only to realize the burglar was her lover who had prepared for her a surprise birthday party reserved for them alone. From Saudi Arabia With Love is also a bitter-sweet love story of a Kenyan woman who left for Saudi Arabia in anticipation for greener pastures which turned out to be a sham after all. She was sold into slavery to a wealthy family whose son Khalid had a soft spot for her. This love shared between slave and master’s son turned out to be her waterloo.

Incest and child abuse is vividly exposed in Father’s Love which is a dark tale of a daughter haunted by her father’s many night visits to her room in the dawn of her mother’s demise. Number 22 is a sympathetic story of an orphan child (Blessed Angie) who was salvaged from the hypocritical Orphan’s Home she grew up in by a sympathetic visiting female shrink.

Aside the regular everyday themes, this collection also boasts of a number of innovative well researched science fiction. Alien Invasion is a sci-fi story narrated in the epistolary form. It’s narrated by the son of a Defense Minister who was among those hijacked by some aliens who plan to invade earth. Zika Vacine also passes for a good Sci-Fi story, even though it’s quite hyperbolic. When the world is plagued by a deadly virus, The Zika Virus, the discovery of a group of scientists made the only difference to salvage the death struck world.

The collection climaxes on a controversial note (well, there are quite a number of such stories, Blessed Virgin Merry which is a fictional tale of the untold sexcapades that go down in the Vatican, is nothing short of controversial) with the story How Did The Dead Escape which is a fictional retelling of the biblical fable on the resurrection of Christ.

There is never a dull moment reading through the snippets of stories, occasionally some stories might seem to drag or come across as a staid monologue but in the whole the collection is a worthy read and I wholeheartedly recommend it to every literary connoisseur out there who craves to read something refreshingly different from the norm of staple stories.

Photo credit: Vincent de Paul

About the Author

vincent-de-paulVincent de Paul is the author of ten books, including three collections of Flashes of Vice, four poetry collections, and a novel. He is also a freelance writer, published on several dailies in Kenya, and his poetry has been published in two anthologies in East and West Africa. He has a diploma in Creative Writing from the Writers Bureau, UK.

Press Release: The Ayodele Bamidele/ Idris Amali Environmental Poetry Prize 2016/2017 Shortlist


The winners of the maiden edition of the Ayodele Bamidele/ Idris Amali Environmental Poetry Prize 2016/2017 have been selected after a thorough examination and evaluation of over thirty submissions from different participants, all students in Kogi State University. It was a tedious job and we salute the various judges for their steadfastness and tenacity towards the completion of the project. Hence, we  hereby present the best seven poems out of all submissions entered for the contest.

Ayodele Bamidele/Idris Amali Environmental Poetry Prize

Shortlisted poets and Poems:

Kolawole Taye                            “THE CALL”
Omeiza Jeremiah                      “WAR OF giANTS”
Abugu Kizito                               “ILL AT EASE”
Michael Ogboji                            “A MEMORABLE OCTOBER”
Emmanuel Abraham                 “August Rain”
Roselyn Nseobong Ekanem    “STOP THE FLAMES”
Musa O. Victoria                         “THIS AMAZING EARTH”

As displayed in the poster above, the winner gets ten literary books/plaque/certificate while the first and second runner up will also get plaques/certificate, and eight and six literary books respectively. The amazing thing is that consolatory prizes will be awarded to the 4th to 7th places!

The date for giving out these prizes will soon be communicated. Finally, to our lucky winners and writers of the best seven poems, we say big congratulations  to you all.

Keep visiting the site for updates on the poetry contest and also to know when the submission for the 2017/2018 Bamidele/Amali Environmental Poetry Prize will commence.

Thank you.

Announcer: Akwu Sunday Victor (Award Curator)

part 3: Lost Diamond


I dashed to her place later that evening. When I got there I asked her younger brother to call her for me. He told me she wasn’t at home that she went out since afternoon and hadn’t returned yet. I was livid. So she actually went elsewhere despite our plans to see at my place. The thought pierced my heart like a sharpened dagger.

I waited for her till it was dark. Not too long I spotted a pretty slim figure from afar. I didn’t need to be told it was her. I just know. In the greyness of the night, her fair skin still had that peculiar sunshine sparkle.

“Nkem,” I called out fiercely with a hoarse voice from the corner I had been sitting waiting for her. “’Where are you coming from?” I demanded harshly.

“I’m sorry –“

“Keep your sorry, I asked where are you coming from?”

Nkem’s mien was apologetic. I could see it written all over her. If it were any other day my anger would have quenched almost immediately. But not today. Not after she deliberately decided to go out instead of dropping by at my place like we agreed. I shot her a firm gaze prompting her to speak up.

“Erm… I was actually on my way to your place when I received a call,” she swallowed hard. “It was very urgent I had to go.” She stared at me with pleading eyes. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to your place as planned. I’m reeeeealllly sorry.”

“So who is the person that called you, eh?”

Nkem coughed. She averted her gaze from mine. I could sense her nervousness. It made me to believe she’s actually not being entirely truthful.

“Let’s just forget about this, please. I promise to make it up to you. Cross my heart.”

“NO!” I bellowed emphatically. “I need to know who called you and come to think of it I called your line countless times without you picking up. How do you explain that?”

“I’m sorry my phone entered silent mode, you know how these android phones behave sometimes.”

“So didn’t you see my missed calls later to call back.”

“I didn’t have airtime.”

“Give me your phone,” I stretched my hand to collect it.

She hesitated before giving the phone to me. I checked through her phone like a CID detective looking for evidence in a crime scene. It was there on her phone’s call list. Jeremiah. He’s the one that called. He’s the one Nkem went to see. I couldn’t believe my goodness. I raised my head slowly, like they do in the movies for dramatic effect, our eyes intersected. There was a knowing in the way we stared each other in the eyes silently. I know and she knows that I know. Jeremiah was the reason she forfeited seeing me.

“So it’s actually Jeremiah you went to see abi?”I felt my stomach become taut. My head was pounding severely. I caught an instant headache. I was no longer myself, it was as if I had drifted away leaving only my body behind. I heard a distant faint voice, it sounded familiar.

“I can explain…”

Craig David’s song begun to play in my aching head.

I’m walking away …

I walked away from the faint voice. In the distance I could still hear the faint voice calling my name.

I’m walking away…           

I kept walking until the faint voice diminished into thin air.

I was heartbroken. Nkem had betrayed my trust. Why? That night while I laid teary on my bed I picked up my phone and sent her a vicious breakup text. I was ruthless and careless with my words, I wanted to hurt her the same way she had hurt me. I wanted a pound of flesh. Her flesh. She didn’t reply or called. I waited all night if she’d reply or call. She didn’t still. The next day, she didn’t call or text either. After about a week of waiting for her to text or call in vain I couldn’t bear it anymore. I took the plunge, I went looking for her.

It was night. From where I was a few meters away I could make out the two familiar figures sitted at the back seat of Papa Onome’s keke, packed in front of Nkem’s compound. Papa Onome’s blue and white commercial tricycle used to be our special rendezvous spot every night. As I sauntered closer, my doubts were confirmed true.  My worst fear had befallen me. It was Nkem and Jeremiah together, gisting carefreely. They didn’t even notice my presence until I called Nkem by name.

“Nkem, so it’s true…” my voice was broken. I felt my cheeks moisten. It was tears from my very eyes. “So all these while you had been deceiving me all along, what a fool I had been.”

“I never deceived you, I really  loved you but you kept pushing me away at the slightest provocation. Any little misunderstanding we have, the next thing from you is breakup. I got fed up…” I willed my tongue to say something in defense but they were too weary to do my bidding.

“That night you saw me, I didn’t tell you it was Jeremiah because I knew you’d lose your cool at the mention of his name notwithstanding the circumstances at hand. Well, so you know, Jeremiah was involved in an accident. It was the clinic he was taken to that called my line, it was an emergency. I rushed right away to his family house to inform his parents and we dashed to the clinic together. It was from the clinic I was coming from when you saw me.” It dawned on me that moment that I had been quite hasty in concluding she was actually playing foul. I bowed my head in shame. Jeremiah was silent all through, he didn’t mutter a word.

“I’m sorry I doubted you Nkem.” I began to mumble.

“It’s okay. I hold no grudge against you. I’ve only decided to move on and expect same from you too.”

Nkem’s words came to me as if I had just received a tragic news. I was grieved sore to the soul. Like Jesus, I wept.

“Nkem, you leaving  me?”

“I’m sorry, I pray you find someone better than me…”


Gbam! Gbam! Gbam! Rings the vigilante’s bell. It is then it dawns on me that it is already dawn. I had been up all night keeping watch just like them. Mama’s voice would soon ring from the sitting room anytime soon for us to assemble as family for morning devotion. While singing and clapping and praying, my mind drifts far away to the cemetery of the past where I shall forever mourn my loss.

I should never have let her go.


Photo credit: loversofsadness.com

Book Review: “Yann Martel’s LIFE OF PI: Surviving Against all Odds” by Ubaji Isiaka Abubakar Eazy


Wait! I can guess what you want to say. Do not say it yet… I know. Ehm…you want to say you have seen the movie, right? Got ya! Well, I have just read the novel itself and come to think of it, why do people always prefer the movie version of novels to the actual books? I remember my university days when William Shakespeare’s MACBETH was recommended for study and how most of my mates went looking for the movie version to watch, has it become so difficult to read books? My special thanks goes to the lecturer who rewarded most of them with an F in the exams haha!

Well, I have seen the movie versions of Nelson Mandela’s LONG WALK TO FREEDOM and Chimamanda Ngozie Adichie’s HALF OF A YELLOW SUN and I must admit that the stories died in the hands of motion pictures, the stories were rushed and I could not flow with the emotional sensation that came with reading the actual stories (I caught myself almost crying while reading LONG WALK TO FREEDOM and celebrated Mandela’s freedom). What the movie does is to take the action and leave the philosophy behind. I must however stand fast to salute whoever produced the movie version of JRR Tolkien’s LORD OF THE RINGS, the movie is impressive. As for the movie LIFE OF PI, much of the action were lifted from the novel and the philosophy was left aside. Nonetheless, they movie also cut out the unnecessary lectures on seafaring which almost marred the novel. I think one of the major impediment the movie world will keep having when turning a novel into a movie is in the aspect of characterisation. While both movies and novels might through different means make us see a character physical make up for instance, the movie can not provide us with an in-depth analysis of the character’s mind and thinking the way a writer would spell them out on paper. Well, enough of the comparison before you think I am trying to put down the movie world so books can reign supreme.

Now think of waking up suddenly in a sinking ship and next you know is that you are bundled off into a life boat not because the sailors were thinking of saving your life but as an offering to an hyena which had somehow found its way into the life boat. And as if this is not enough, you are joined by a rat, a Zebra, an orangutan, and a royal Bengal Tiger! Okay, that is scary right? Now, the hyena gets hungry and you are just a small guy with no weapon to face it, but the hyena goes first for the Zebra, saving you for worse days ahead. Zebra gone and the hyena goes for the orangutan and you know immediately that you are next. But Tiger comes and saves the day by killing hyena yet you know Tiger is a bigger threat than even an hyena for without food, it will surely come for you and it would be more vicious than the hyena. You look around and find out that you are alone with Tiger in the middle of nowhere on the Pacific ocean and your last thoughts are that of how to survive the ocean in a small boat while ensuring that the Tiger does not make you its dinner. Hardly a palatable situation for one to find himself in right? Yet, this is the story of Piscine Molitel Patel (aka Pi), a young Indian boy, who finds himself stranded on the Pacific ocean with a royal Bengal Tiger as the only companion. How he survives for over two hundred days (with the Tiger) is a miracle. The tale tells of how we need each other in solitary moments, how man can relate with his environment and its other inhabitants (animals), each going and coming without hurting each other, and most importantly, it tells of how we need each other to survive without knowing it for strangely enough, it is the  tiger’s will to kill at any moment that keeps Pi alive till the very end of the ordeal. While the story might not have had the same effect of uniting three different religions; as Pi did and became a Christian, Muslim, and Hindu, all at the same time; it certainly had the effect of reaffirming the soul sustaining and magical power of fiction.

I must say that I love the framed narrative technique employed by the writer who begins the story and then hands over to Pi to relate his experience to us, very much like that of Joseph Conrad’s HEART OF DARKNESS. The interlude employed to show how many days was consumed in telling the story is also a nice idea but towards the end the story ran on and on without the interludes coming in as frequently as it appeared at the beginning. Maybe I do not also like the authorial intrusion I came across in the story. You see, the interludes I can understand as still part of the story and still flow with them but there are times when the narrator leaves his story to lecture us about animal behaviour or survival tactics on the sea, those to me are unacceptable. There are several books on sea-faring should I want them, they are example of authorial intrusion that would have better been Incorporated into the story by action and not mere talk like the pact when the older Pi left the story and began giving advice on how to survive on the sea.

However, it is quite a scintillating and amusing story, one which I shall place among great travel and adventure novels as Daniel Defoe’s ROBINSON CRUSOE and Jonathan Swift’s GULLIVER TRAVELS, and of course William Golding’s LORD OF THE FLIES.

Photo credit: https://booksandrandomthoughts.wordpress.com

About the Reviewer


Ubaji Isiaka Abubakar Eazy holds a Bachelor of Arts Degree in English Language and Literary Studies. He is a literary critic and reviewer, poet, story writer and copy editor. He currently serves as the Chief Editor at literarycriticsandwriters.simdif.com.

Part 2: Lost Diamond


Jemine was my rival. Eventhough Nkem told me from the outset that he was just a ‘harmless friend’ who works close to her, I was still threatened by his ‘harmlessness’. Maybe it’s because I know he once asked Nkem out before I even came into the picture. Nkem might have turned him down but that doesn’t mean his feelings for her has been turned off. Another reason for my concern was also that they work in the same shopping complex. Inevitably, they must see everyday. I fear in time he might be able to woo her from me given the proximity they share at work. When I voice my worries to Nkem she would tell me to relax.

“You don’t have to worry about anything,” she said to me one Sunday afternoon. “Trust me I know who I want and that’s the one I said yes to.” She took my hand in hers affectionately, “let not your heart be troubled my love.” She caressed my lips with hers. “I love you.” She meant it. I could see it in her eyes. She’s very much in love with me as I am with her. “I love you too,” I confessed. “It’s just that I feel threatened by your friendship with Jemine, I just can’t help it.”

“Why do you feel threatened?” she asked.

“Erm… the thing is that I’m scared he might get to sway you someday and you’d leave me…”

Nkem hushed me.

“Don’t say such things, please don’t. I have already told you you’re the one I want, so you have nothing to fear or worry about, or don’t you trust me?”

“Of course I do but —“

“No buts. Change the topic please.”

I didn’t want to drag the issue any longer since she was already slightly irritated. I do trust Nkem, but it’s myself I don’t trust enough. Given my regular mood swings and obnoxious insecurities, I feared I might drift her into my rival’s waiting arms wide open like a trap awaiting its most prized catch patiently.


I gape into my phone’s screen to check for time. 2.15am. I’ve been awake all night, keeping wake like the vigilante guys who watch the streets at night. Not that I don’t want to sleep. I just can’t, try as I may. My emotions haunt me with memories of the past. The past which I so crave to forget for my sanity’s sake. But how can I forget when anytime I close my eyes I have nightmares. Nkem would appear smiling, bidding me to come get her but whenever I try to reach her she dissolves into empty space. More frightening is the thunderous guffaw that echoes in the background. It’s Jemine’s. I look around but see no one but a monstrous shadow pacing towards me. I take to my heels. Running. Until I jerk off from sleep, panting and sweating like an athlete who just sprinted a marathon. Tonight I wish I can sleep, I really wish I can. It’s as if I’m being ambushed; sleep is the Judas preying to betray me into the hands of my captors. Nightmares.  I shouldn’t have called it quits. I shouldn’t have sent that text. If only I knew it wouldn’t be like other times. If only I knew that would be the last straw.


Two days after our one year anniversary, I asked Nkem to come over to my place. It was in the evening and the coast was kind of clear of any possible distraction. The house was empty save my little sister who was sleeping in the room. After waiting for over a year, Nkem finally made up her mind to let me have her most priced asset. Her virginity. In the past she would only allow me touch and she me. She would stiffen up whenever I attempted to take our foreplay to the next level. “I’m not ready yet,” she would say when I ask what’s putting her off. We could smooch, cuddle and everything in between but that between. I could explore elsewhere except down there. It was sacred ground no one had ever trod. As a man with active libido I had to find some other way to let out steam especially on cold nights when the hormones get in control. My Blue Seal Vaseline always comes to the rescue. I would lie down on my bed, my lubricated palm firm on my erection, and imagine Nkem were on top of me piloting us to the moon and back.

So I waited, patiently, till she would be ready. Alas the day has come when we shall traverse the Promised Land flowing with milk and honey. The day I cease to be Moses who only could see The Promised Land without stepping foot on it.

I was more than prepared for the action that was about to go down. I bought a pack of Love Sensation which has about three condoms in the pack. Those would surely do. I checked the clock hanging on the wall in the sitting room. It was already past 4pm. Anytime soon my mom would be back from her outing. We had agreed on 2pm and I was very specific about timing. I was already furious. I dialed her number. She didn’t pick. I dial again. No response. Again and again. Still no response. I was livid. She knows how much I hated being stood up and yet it’s today of all days she has decided to get under my skin. At least she could of texted if there was any delay, no she wouldn’t. She’s just fond of getting on my nerves. And she sure has succeeded this time round. The last time I complained about things like this, she wouldn’t have it.

“You like picking on little things a lot and it’s getting annoying.”

“Little things you say?” I was flummoxed. “’To you they might be little things but to me these little things matters a lot.”

“Just accept it, you nag a lot.”

“How dare you say I nag a lot, how dare you?”

“The truth they say is bitter.”

“What truth are you talking about here, maybe you should take another look at the mirror.”

“What do you mean?”

“If I nag, then you’re the cause of it!”

“You like putting the blames on others, you never own up to your faults. Right now I don’t even feel like arguing with you. Goodnight.”

That said she walked out on me. I was taken aback. That she would walk out on me in the middle of an unfinished conversation. Or quarrel.

“Nkem come back here!” I barked.

She was headstrong. She didn’t come back.

When I got home that night I sent a caustic breakup text. In the text I remembered calling her ‘beautiful for nothing’. I was very sure that would get to her even if the breakup didn’t. Even after sending her the text she neither called nor texted back. That fuelled my anger the more. It means she wasn’t affected at all or probably she was only pretending not to be. Well maybe she’s good at pretending but not me. I was affected the most from the breakup I had instigated. Few days down I couldn’t hang on anymore. I went back to her, cap in hand. And she was there just as I had left her. Waiting for me to come to my senses and back to her.

Maybe it’s because she knows I couldn’t literally do without her that’s why she takes me for granted every now and then. Well I’m going to prove her wrong this time round. I’ll show her no one is indispensable, including her.

Photo credit: http://hd.wallpaperswide.com

If you missed the first part, click on the link below.

Part 1: Lost Diamond