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For a week and few days, I've shared fragments.Questions.Thoughts.Pieces of emotions many of us carry but rarely talk ab...
24/06/2026

For a week and few days, I've shared fragments.

Questions.

Thoughts.

Pieces of emotions many of us carry but rarely talk about.

Stirring something in you, and you showed up every single time. You commented. You shared. You said "This feels like it was written for me."

That told me everything I needed to know.
You are ready.
So am I.

I wrote a book with you in mind

This is the story I was afraid to tell because of the weight of it. The one that kept me up at night. The one I rewrote over and over again because I needed to get it right, for you.

"What Remains" is a fiction anthology about what happens after everything falls apart.

About the people we become when life strips us down to nothing. About love, loss, pain, fear, survival, and the quiet, stubborn things that refuse to leave us even when we wish they would.

If you've ever loved deeply, lost painfully, trusted the wrong person, questioned your faith, or fought battles nobody knew about, this book was written with you in mind.

It will make you think about the people in your life differently.
It will make you think about yourself differently.

And long after the last page, it will stay with you.

Pre-order is officially open!

Pre-order now at ₦5000

https://selar.com/4012584210

And everyone who pre-orders will receive exclusive bonuses before the official release.


Felix was to leading me into trouble and I was indulging him😂😂Read previous stories to catch up. Follow me for more stor...
20/04/2026

Felix was to leading me into trouble and I was indulging him😂😂

Read previous stories to catch up. Follow me for more stories

Happy international women's day, Queen👸🏻👠❤️💐
08/03/2026

Happy international women's day, Queen👸🏻👠❤️💐

I just want to rant!😩😂
02/03/2026

I just want to rant!😩😂

....Felix was always quiet each time I entered his class to teach Biology, and stared at me as though he was seeing a gh...
21/02/2026

....Felix was always quiet each time I entered his class to teach Biology, and stared at me as though he was seeing a ghost. I’d always call his attention intermittently during lessons to ensure that he was following.

I thought that he was going through a hard time…something personal, but little did I know that I was actually the root and reason for his “hard time”

I couldn't tell when he started having feelings for me but I was looking at that note for minutes; going through it over again, feeling awkward and unable to know what to make out of his confession

While I was still on that, a student came to inform me that I was to teach them that morning. I lifted my head and the face I met was the class prefect of SS3, Felix’s class. I checked my timetable immediately to confirm and it was true

I wondered how I was going to stand in front of this boy and the rest of his classmates and not remember what he wrote on that note.

The moment I entered his class our eyes met, his eyes were piercing as though he wanted to see what's in my soul, for the first time I felt uncomfortable.

I wondered…. should I pretend like I didn't see the note or should I address this boy and remind him that I am still his teacher. I decided to go with the latter, so I asked him to see me during break time.

“Good afternoon ma, you asked me to see you…” he came as soon as the bell rang. I asked him to get a seat, because when a matter is serious, you sit down to talk about it..lol

Oh, I missed to mention that he was a pretty boy with a hot brain and a good dress sense. One of the best biology students

I opened my mouth to address this boy but nothing came out.
“Let me help you” he adjusted his tie like one who is in charge
“You read my note and you're dumbfounded”

I was just looking at him
I couldn't tell where he got his audacity from, even though I was like a year or two older than him, I was still his teacher!

“Look Felix…I appreciate that you find me attractive and wrote something nice for me but I am your teacher and this is highly inappropriate” I finally managed to speak

“Because you're my teacher?” he questioned
“Yes! Avoid anything that will make us have this conversation again” I warned him sternly

He said “Okay” and left. Right there, I thought that was the end of the matter

“This may be inappropriate but it will be more inappropriate for me if I continue to keep it to myself. I know you're a ...
19/02/2026

“This may be inappropriate but it will be more inappropriate for me if I continue to keep it to myself.

I know you're a teacher and I am a student but I like you a lot!
I am being honest now, I hardly concentrate on anything but you when you stand in front of the class to teach.

Everything about you screams beauty, warmth and elegance.

This is me being bold before this thing consumes me and confessing that I admire you so much and my heart is beginning to fluster whenever I see you.

With love,
Felix Okoro”

This was what was written on a note I found on my table on a Monday morning

It was carefully put in an envelope with a rose flower and some chocolates. Chocolates are indeed my favorites

Okay, let's start the story from where it is supposed to begin…

My dad had this policy that says that you must stay at home for one year after secondary school before making attempts to get into the University

Some months after I left secondary school, I needed to get busy with something within the one year I was mandated to stay at home, so I applied to teach in a secondary school nearby.

Being a fresh graduate, what I learnt in school was still fresh in my head so I applied to teach Biology and Christian Religious Knowledge (CRK) as they were my core strengths.

I was the home room teacher (class resident teacher) of JSS 3 class but taught the Junior Secondary classes CRK and the Senior Secondary classes Biology

Felix Okoro, the boy who wrote me a love letter was a student of SS3, this happened one month after I started teaching in that school and it was the beginning of something I still can't forget

The frame on the wall stared back at me before I even noticed the room. It was a large side-view painting of a woman in ...
11/02/2026

The frame on the wall stared back at me before I even noticed the room. It was a large side-view painting of a woman in black, wearing a wide black hat, against a deep red background.

“This is where you’ll be staying,” said the apartment agent, breaking my gaze.

My friends and I rented that apartment for a vacation in Italy. The agent had said nothing about the previous tenants, but a bold inscription was on the painting: “Famiglia Perduta”, meaning “Lost Family.”

As I moved, the woman’s gaze seemed to follow, though her face was turned away. I felt uneasy.

The agent showed us other rooms. Every room had similar paintings on the wall; figures of a woman, a man, a boy, and a girl, all dressed in black, all wearing black hats, all against the same red background.

That first night, we played games, laughed, and stayed up late until we finally retired to our rooms.

Sometime in the night, I woke up to the sound of footsteps in my room; they were slow, heavy, and deliberate

The windows flew open, then came the creak of the bathroom door, followed by the hiss of running water.

I sat up and turned on the light. My eyes flew to the frame on the wall, the woman was gone.

Only the red background remained.

My body froze, my heart pounded, sweat rolled down my face as the shower suddenly stopped. I switched off the light and laid back, trembling under the sheets.

The bathroom door opened and the footsteps returned; slow, nearing, then, silence.

I turned my head toward the wall, the frame was gone.

My breath hitched as I saw it now hanging above my bed. The woman had returned, but this time she wasn’t wearing her hat. Her face was turned forward, staring directly at me. Slowly, she began to lean out of the frame, her hands reaching toward me.

My heart sank into my stomach. I tried to scream, but no sound came. As I struggled, I saw them, the figures from the other paintings: the man, the boy, and the girl. They stood around me, holding me down.

I struggled helplessly on the bed until I felt someone shaking me.
“Stella! Stella, wake up!”

I opened my eyes to see my friends hovering over me.

“Oh, it was a dream…” I sighed, my heart still racing. My pillow was damp and there were bruises on my body; the parts the figures held.

They stared nervously at the bruises and the frame as I narrated the dream.

We couldn't spend another night in that apartment, so we packed our bags and left the same day

As I shut the door behind me, I glanced once more at the wall in my room.

“I hope to see you again,” read a new inscription on the frame. The woman wasn’t smiling. She was waiting.

~Written by me

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