Category Archives: Nma Ewere

The Character In My Book

So I cry out…A helpless cry.He sears my soul with his words.I am as light as feather, as stiff as board.Cutting deep into my flesh; he knows no bounds.So I cry out…A helpless cry.

No humanity left.No hope left.I look at him as he lets me drown into darkness.In this world where weakness is a curse.Where your strength are your flaws.I watch my heart leave into a lonely space.I have nothing left.No more to have.

No strength to fight.No reason to live.I lay on my chest,Look my demon in the eye;Those striking green eyes.Drinking in his features again;His conspicuous nose,‘killer lips’His angular well chiseled chin.His slender aligned shoulders.

And lastly his midnight black hair that portrays nothing but wealth.So I say to him;“do your best, destroy me.

You see… I’ve been to hell and backI admit, you kinda bore me”Because he can strike me, try to wear me down.I let my words fill his mind with dirt.So let him shake me, crack me, break me, take me down.Because in the end, he’s only a mirage.So I make this illusion void.

THE END

nmascorner

31-07-2021©Nma Ewere
The post The Character In My Book appeared first on IKA Mirror Newspaper Online.
Source: Ika News Agbor
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ONCE UPON A TIME, EVERY CASTLE HAD ITS HUNTED PAST

Set in the 16th century when countries were divided into city states and minor kingdoms, existed a castle…And she was left all alone in this room.Locked up…

They never cared about her.And on this fateful day.She was starved and locked up in a room…Then she ate her flesh…

Savoring the taste of her flesh and blood…And she left…Her soul left her body.Roaming about in the castle.She hunted them.In their sleeps and in broad daylight.She hunted them…And she cursed!

One hundred years later,A hunted castle chronicles the life of Aliya.And I walked back home, on this lonely night.The night was cold, as the black clouds obscured the stars and moon.And a fierce breeze whistled through the quiet street.Using the back door, I sneaked into the houseIt is then I notice something I haven’t probably noticed on till now.

The room!The stench!Then I opened the room…Edgings of this room seemed to have completely fallen away.Ivy had spread on the bed, patchily dead.It hung on the mirror like a tangled rat tail.And on the other side of the wall was colour.‘Blood red’Suddenly, I hear the creaking of the door.And a shadow passed by the mirror.Everywhere becomes dead silent.The room becomes frosty, and I can barely see anything.And I see a figure.

I walk towards it, but it is only a mirage…Or my imagination.And it becomes silent again.As I retrace my steps…The windows fly open.

The fierce breeze blowing in pieces of paper“And in that day when the deaf shall hear the words of the book, and the eyes of the blind shall see out of obscurity and out of darkness.I shall be awakened.

I shall be you, and you shall be me.I shall live through you, and you shall obey my command.Every breath, every action will be ours.And you will never depart from me”As I read it, I felt this kind of new energy surge into every part of my body…

I felt reborn.I retraced my steps back to the door.And I caught a glimpse of something.My reflection in the mirror.

Never in the annals of the world did I ever think I would see a sight so disgusting.Piercing green eyes.

A smirk at the corner of my lips.Bloody nose.Inky black hair with blood dripping down it.But…Fleshless skin.Maggot seeping bones.

A reflection that wore darkness like girls wear little black dresses.A reflection that didn’t choose darkness, but was chosen by darkness.A reflection that changed my life forever.

©Nma Ewere
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Source: Ika News Agbor
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CRITICISM: A PART OF THE HUMAN GENE.

I have studied her for the past eight weeks.And I have noticed…That she has done nothing…But have been criticized.And when I approached her,She gave me ‘the lesson’Her words read thus;“you don’t want to be gossiped, you don’t want to be criticized.You don’t want to be mocked, you don’t want to be embarrassed,Then don’t get ready to be published”I then thought about what she just said.It is only then I notice…That they certainly fit her records.When she misspells a word,They call her ‘dumb’.When she contributes actively on class activities,They say ‘too serious’.When she sleeps during class hours,They call her’ lazy’.When she talks when everyone is talking,They call her ‘talkative’.When she sings during the assembly,They say she ‘croaks like a frog’.she trips,They call her ‘clumsy’.When she decides to crack joke,It is called ‘lame’And when she finally decides to be static,They say ‘see as you just sit down’Now, I have realized that“Whatever you say or do, people will ‘say’ and people will criticize, whether good or bad”I guess criticism is a part of the human gene.

nmas corner

©Nma Ewere05-06-2021
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Source: Ika News Agbor
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THAT FLOURISHING PALM TREE

NMA’S CORNER!

THAT FLOURISHING ‘PALM TREE.’

And she stood in all her glory.Her skin; rough.Dangerously beautiful.And her height inherited from her ancestors.Very common.

Yet always captivating.Popularly known for her fresh wine.Good delicacies.And her ever nutritious oil.Used in every home.Yet her price keeps increasing.And sometimes decreasing.But always constant.Her roots rigid.

Body always relaxed.With her ever swaying hands.Indulging that fresh air never found in an air conditioner.From her swaying hands down to her rigid roots.Always useful.

From her juicy fruits down to her relaxed body.Always delicious.From her costly price down to her cheap price.Always constant.With her hands I make my broom.Her fruit, I make my oil.My cream.

And ‘that African delicacy’.Her body, I make that juicy wine.And my edible mushroom.And in all her glory, I make my money.Finally, she calls herself;THAT FLOURISHING ‘PALM TREE.’©Nma Ewere.
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Change Of Environment

Passing by different streets and a new set of people in a different environment.

Going into the heart of Owa – Ekei.I meet a totally different world across Old Lagos Asaba Road, Agbor.On entering the school compound, I saw strange pairs of eyes starring curiously at me.

‘Who’s she?’, ‘where’s she from?’, ‘why’s she here?’…I could here through their whispers.“That last class is your class” the Principal said.Wasn’t she going to take me there and introduce me!Before I could say jack, she was already into her office.I walked heads up, straight to the described class.Avoiding their peering eyes.

On stepping into the class, all heads turned to me.Like time had stopped.Everyone turned their eyes to look at the new student.I prayed for the ground to open and swallow me.I didn’t know where to sit as everyone scanned me with their eyes.“Hello; hi, am Mary.

What’s your name? you’re from Mary Mount right?” a girl with glasses said to me.“I’m Nma and yes am from Mary Mount” I replied in a tensed voice.“So welcome to our school” she said raising her hand to shake me.“You’ll be sitting there.”

She pointed to the seat at the extreme.“And that’s your seat mate Joy”I almost melted as I walked to that seat, praying not to miss my steps and fall down.Immediately I sat down, a man who might be in his early thirties walked in, and we all greeted.“So, we have a new student here.”He pointed at me.

“Kindly come and introduce yourself”God please help me. I gasped before I stood up.Welcome to Monyei Memorial Foundation School.

©Nma Ewere.
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THE SMELLING SHOE

We were practicing for a cultural dance in our school.Students of the dancing crew were to come to school with muftis in our school bags for us to change when we are done with schooling hours to enable us practice.

Everything was going well, I was part of the Igbo dance crew.I was the youngest in the dancing crew.Sure, I won’t allow them intimidate me with their seniority.Then one day, something happened.

We took off our shoes to get ready for dancing.Something was smelling and every one perceived it.My shoe was smelling……… no, someone’s shoe was smelling.Because my shoe was very huge and had a crocodile design.Everyone started looking at me and my ‘poor shoe’I knew what they were thinking.Na this small girl shoe dey smell!

Even the instructor was looking at me.I was sure, despite the look of my shoe.It wasn’t smelling.“Let’s smell everyone’s shoe” Mrs. Vivian said looking at our head girl – Senior Divine.

My heart ran 200 meters’ race and jumped into my stomach.Senior Divine was sniffing the shoes like a dog.Then all of a sudden… She threw my shoe away……. No……not my shoe.It was someone else’s.It was Amanda’s shoe.

The smell was oozing out, not from her shoes, but from her socks.It smelt like hell.I wanted to puke.Everyone covered their nostrils.Finally, my name had been cleared.It wasn’t my shoe that was smelling, but it was my senior’s socks.©Nma Ewere.
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Source: Ika News Agbor
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THE GUAVA TREE IN MY COMPOUND

NMA’S CORNER!

Nigeria has a very fertile soil.Am 100 percent sure of it.

Also Nigeria is divided into States and the States have Local Governments.There is one State that has Delta as its name, and this State has a town named Agbor under Ika South Local Government Area.Just opposite a Street- Dr. Whyte by Express –that express is one of the trunk A Roads we have in Nigeria.

There lays a Street named Ewere Okonta Avenue.The road to that Street is very bad, that if you are coming, bring a towing van along with you to tow your own car at the entrance of that Street that is if the towing van does not get stuck before you reach the junction.There is no electricity in that Street.

In that Street, the fourth house on your right hand side is where I live.A Toyota Highlander is always parked in that compound. The compound is not fenced.But anytime I step my leg, there is something that always catches my attention.

Although, I have been living there for over nine years of my life, but it just keeps drawing my attention.Do you know what that is?Now find out……………………….

THERE IS ONE BEAUTIFUL SMALL PLANT INSIDE.Do I even call it a plant…? No.IT IS A TREEE, ALTHOUGH A SMALL ONE.“IT IS A GUAVA TREE.”There are two guava trees in that compound; a tall one and small one.But then, it is the small one that catches my attention.Probably because am small.When it was still at a small stage growing, I never liked the guava.It had a skinny stem, and I could see the ugly roots.Not only that, it did not give me shade like the taller one did.Not that I hated Gods creation, but it just looked so miserable.Poor guava……

How I wish I knew it was going to be this beautiful…But now, I see its root, they are rigid, its stems are pompous and it leaves are evergreen.

Not to talk of its fruit, it is firm to touch with red insides, and its taste, I cannot explain.And today, just like every other day, I step into the compound, and it smiles at me……………………No condition is permanent.

©Nma Ewere.

Nma Ewere
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Source: Ika News Agbor
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