Thursday, 21 April 2011


Hey Guys,

Two things:
1) It is with heaviness in my heart and deep sadness that i make this announcement. I have given in. I have sold out. I'm moving my blog to Wordpress :'( I was hoping to hit a particular number of page views before i moved but...
Blogger served me well but Wordpress is more mobile and comment friendly and i want everyone to be able to express their opinions easily. Its still basically the same address, only a change in the domain ( I'm moving all my old posts there as well so if there was a post you were unable to comment on previously, you can do it there.

2) In honour of Blogger who welcomed me into Blogosphere with arms wide open and showed me the ropes, i will b posting one last story here. I will move it to Wordpress as well in 3days. Its a bit longer than usual so please bear with me. Thank you all for reading and following and commenting and commending. 


My name is Adanna.

And I remember.

I remember thinking how much trouble I could get into. But the alcohol I’d had earlier was still very much in effect. I peeped out from my vantage point beside the gate. Still no sign of Him. I wondered where He was going at past 1am on a Saturday morning.

I remember looking at my Kenneth Cole watch and remembering how He'd given it to me on my 20th birthday last year. He was definitely to blame for my addiction to male timepieces. Since that first day He let me take off his watch and put it on my dainty 6yr old wrist while sitting in His lap, I never looked back. He had ordered the latest limited edition Jacob&Co for my 21st next month. I was pretty excited

I remember peeping in again and wondering if I should just take the risk and go inside. I had come back from the party and was about to knock on Yahaya's window when all of a sudden the main gate started opening. I quickly took cover behind the gate, praying that the shadows and darkness would cover me, thankful that the Vogue had tinted windows and praying that whoever was driving it out wouldn't feel the need to look through their rear-view mirror for whatever reason.

I remember almost dying when the car suddenly stopped midway through the gate and he stepped out. He walked back into the house. In hindsight, he looked pensive that night.

That was my first time of sneaking out of the house for a party. I felt terrible at first but when the drinks started flowing, I forgot about it. I loved my parents but they could be a bit prudish sometimes with their unreasonable curfews. It was bad luck that school was out of session and I had to be at home but there was no way in this world I was missing Teni's party.

I remember hearing a rustling in the small patch of grass along the wall, not too far from where I stood. I turned back and saw something crawling stealthily toward me. What is...WHAT??? A snake??? I didn't even think about it, just did the first thing that came to my head. I ran into the backseat of the Vogue and slammed the door. After about 2minutes of crouching on the car floor, i realised my foolishness. I was about to open the car door when I heard His voice calling Yahaya to come and close the gate. Oh wow. I'm really doomed now.

As he drove off, I tried to not breathe so He wouldn't hear but I didn't have to worry; He turned on his stereo.

Fela. He played his Fela CD that night.

He drove for a while. A very long while.

I remember the car finally stopping.  He came out. Thankfully, he didn’t set his alarm. I waited for about 5minutes and then I came up from the floor and looked outside the window. No one in sight. Just a large open field of some sort. Empty, save the other cars lined up on the right of the Vogue, and the white nondescript bungalow a few meters in front.
I stepped out of the car.

The first thing I noticed was the quiet. It was eerie. I moved a few steps forward and looked around but I couldn't see a road leading to the field. Crap. I had hoped to find a taxi to take me back home. I still had my vex money with me. But no, it was just grass and sand all around me.

I remember thinking maybe I should go back in the car and wait? But for how long? I remember the other voice that said I should move towards the bungalow. Find out what was going on. Maybe a party? But in this kind of place? An orgy perhaps?

The hand that grabbed my neck was cold and rough.

Ambrose sighed heavily. He had to do it. He couldn’t let them take her. Not her. He almost died of shock when they brought her in. Now he was just sad. He had made other sacrifices in the past, yes. His mother had been the hardest. But she was old and well past her prime. His nephew? Well that had been hard too but his sister was still young. Still fertile. She would have more children. And she did, three now. But this one? This was his Ada. His Adanna. His angel. He remembered her storming up and down the house like the princess that she was in his watches. She was always stealing his watches. He could not let this one go. He was tired a lot lately. Not the physical tiredness of a man after a hard days work. But the bone weariness of one who had gotten everything he ever wanted only to find that it wasn’t enough. He was still searching. For what, he was yet to know. Maybe this was it. He remembered the sermon in church on Sunday. Perhaps if he prayed, God would still have him. He sighed.

Okpaka smiled. Okiriwo had sent him the answer in his usual way. He had been a bit worried about this one. He had seemed a bit sluggish, uncertain even, in their recent meetings. He knew he had reason to worry when he had questioned his authority in their last meeting. He knew he would have to go but he had to figure out how without unsettling the others. And now he had his answer. He saw the way he was looking at her. Weakling. He would choose to go. They really did not have to kill anyone. But for this one, his time was up. He smiled.

I remember the voices. I remember the words.

“Has to pay…”
“Either her or you...”
“You understand.”
I understand.” His voice.

I tried to move but I couldn’t. Tried to speak.

“She’s awake. Remove the blindfold.”

I remember the hand. It was still cold.

When my eyes adjusted to the light I looked around. An wished I didn’t.

I was bound, hand and feet, to a table. On either side of the table stood men dressed in white; four on the left and three on the right. He was on the right. I knew. My eyes brushed past him. I didn’t make contact. Couldn’t. At the head of the table, on a raised pedestal, sat an ordinary looking fat man. At his feet, lay two young girls. They looked my age. They were naked. His left foot slowly rubbed on the right breast of one of them, and his right foot did the same to the left breast of the other girl. They both had dreamlike expressions on their faces. I looked up into his eyes and he smiled. I snatched my eyes away. Those eyes. God I remember those eyes. Those were no ordinary eyes. And the smile.

I finally looked at Him. My mouth was still tied but my eyes asked the question that summed up all my questions: What is this? WHAT IS THIS???

The one at the head of the table spoke. “It is time. You know what to do”
He nodded. Then he walked to him, slowly, shoulders hunched, and the one at the head gave him a dagger.

I remember sweating.

He walked to me. Looked at me for a few seconds. Then bent and kissed my forehead.

I remember looking straight into his eyes.

He stood up straight and raised the dagger. Aiming at my chest.

I remember the cold. It wasn’t hot anymore.

I remember shutting my eyes as he brought down the knife.

And then i was in my bed. I opened my eyes slowly; afraid to move, afraid to breathe. I looked around at the familiar surroundings. The clock on the wall in front of me read two minutes till 7a.m.

Water. I need water.

It was a dream. It was a dream. I still didn't move, save the trembling.


I heard the doorbell. Then I heard my mother’s scream.

Stay. Don’t get up. Don't move. Just stay in bed.

I got out of bed and walked downstairs. I could not feel my legs.
I saw my mother on the floor, my siblings and the house help around her. All crying. I saw the policemen standing, looking quite foolish. I asked them what happened.

They said He had been in an accident. He was dead.

I almost laughed out loud.

The funeral was two days ago. I haven’t shed a tear. I’m numb. I can’t feel shit. Do I tell my mother? What do I tell her? That the man she loved and trusted for 22 years was a…
Do I tell me siblings? That the man whom they loved and looked up to was a….

Was i even sure? Wasn't it just a dream?

What do I tell myself? That the man whom I loved with all my soul was in the occult?
That I, because of a stupid party, had killed Him. My daddy. I had killed my daddy.

I picked up my Jacob&Co watch. It arrived that morning. I studied the intricate design of red, yellow and blue diamonds  inside. It was beautiful.

I smashed it against the wall.

Dania's thoughts: Sigh. So. To tell the rest of her family or not?


  1. This is warped. And Ms. Dreamer had better keep her superstitions to herself.

    BTW, we welcome you to the Wordpress family of awesomeness.

  2. another sad story *sigh*

  3. Haba Dania,
    This one is comment joo

    Good writing sha!

  4. Hey, thanks.

    It may not seem like it but it may not far fetched as it looks.

  5. Wow, this is deep...had goosebumps the entire time reading it..such a sad story *sigh*

    Another brilliant work, i'm a huge fan :)

  6. Missie... I don't have d words for this. Nyc work though! Welcome to wordpress by the way. Yay! *bbm dance emoticon*

  7. Babe hafana!
    Anyhoo I don't think she should tell her family about it, it'll traumatize EVERYONE, or they wouldn't believe her and that'll put her in an even worse position. I know its a lot to deal with though, might I recommend therapy?

  8. don't think she should tell. What point would it serve? 'twon't bring him back.

    instead she should write a memoir, "Diary of a Guilty Daughter.' or something...

  9. Beautiful writing .. Eerie and sad story .. Nice one ..I dont think she should tell her family tho.

  10. wonderful writing (Y)

  11. I luv your writing Ada, a situstion like this its better she doesn't say anything for now...

  12. Nice way to wrap things up here...

  13. Very very very nice. Love the way you wove the story. (Y)

  14. Not to tell. I hear people with demons end up being the most creative. *twisted thought*

    Lovely, lovely story. Reminds me of a Nora Roberts I read but i kinda prefer this, its beautifully done.

  15. I guess its the feeling that daddy killed something. Something in your heart. maybe not a ritual...maybe its just your trust or awe or something...
    I don't think it ever completely heals.I still struggle with it. Yes, u'd forgive. But everytime he scolds or even tries to be a father, it comes right back.
    And when like me he stabs twice. trice. or more then it becomes a hole only God can fill...

  16. Dania...I suppose ur tired of people telling u ur a good writer, so I'll say ur also a bit depressing sometimes. Happy post pleeease?! *whipping out the kleenex* *saying 'no homo' under my breath* lol

  17. nice post.. as usual.

    i dont think she should tell any one. what purpose will it serve? besides, they might not believe her. how will she explain how she came to be in her bed?
    but mehn... the babe is gonna fork out a small fortune in counselling fees sha.

  18. Newest fan to ur blog, blogspot or wordpress, Darling, you write good! keep it up.

    very eerie story though, but unpredictable still, like most of all ur write- ups.

    thumbs up sister

  19. ur imagination is too thirsty ada.

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  21. Quite touching.

  22. I find blogger to be more comment-friendly than WordPress. Well that is my observation.

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