Remi the writer

05/10/2025

Happy Birthday to the one soul who’s felt like home in this loud, messy world.

You’ve been more than my best friend you’ve been my calm in chaos, my truth in confusion, and my light in some really dark days.

I honestly don’t know how I would’ve made it through certain seasons without you.

I pray life rewards you in ways that silence every doubt and heal every wound.

I love you more than words will ever say thank you for being my Everything.

Cupcakes wish my mum well, it's her birthday 🥺🥰🎉

04/10/2025

Kelly held Kamsi’s hand tightly as they walked.

Kelly glanced at her sister. “Don’t let go of my hand,” she managed to say.

But her own mind was restless. She turned suddenly to Anwuli who walked beside them.

“Anwuli,” Kelly said in a low voice, “this witch from the grave… she wants my sister, She said she will take her as a reward for revealing his powers.

What can we do? How can we save Kamsi?”

Anwuli’s eyes softened then a smile touched her lips.

“Do not fear,” she replied gently. “I have a plan.”

Kelly swallowed. “A plan?”

“Yes,” Anwuli said. “The witch’s hun-ger makes her bl-ind.

We will give her what she wants, but only a shadow, not your sister”

As she spoke, she raised her hand and slowly, another figure formed in front of them.

Kelly and Kamsi gasped It was a third duplicate of them or at least, it looked exactly like being triplets.

The same hair, the same eyes, the same frightened look. The illusion stood just as the twins.

Kamsi clutched Kelly’s arm, whispering, “She… she looks like us.”

“Yes,” Anwuli said. “The witch will think she has taken Kamsi. But it is only smoke and water.”

Before Kelly could answer, a sharp laugh cut across the gra-ves

The witch had arrived.

She crept from behind a cracked tomb, while her mouth opened wide, showing black te-eth.

Her voice screeched with delight as she pointed to the false Kamsi.

“You kept to your words”

Kelly’s heart raced, but she stood still beside Anwuli, hiding Kamsi at a nearby grave stone!

The witch glided forward, her long arms reached out. She circled the false Kamsi and cackled

Anwuli pretended she's saddened by her actions and started to plead for the inno--cent girl's l-ife

But she turned a deaf ear, wrapping her arms around a disguised ch-ild and dra-gged her towards her open co-ffin lying on the ground.

The c--offin was dark, filled with shadows, waiting to swallow anything it came across.

“Come, little child,” the witch crooned. “Come and lie where I lie. Your breath will keep me strong forever!”

Kelly felt Kamsi shaking from her hideouts. She wanted to scréam or worse wake up from her sleep, but Anwuli raised her hand once more, signaling her to stay quiet.

The witch bent low, shoving the twins fake figure into the coffin. But as soon as the fake child touched the coffin’s wood, her body began to melt.

Her hands turned to dripping water, while her face blurred like smoke.

The witch froze. “What.....what is this?” she scree-ched.

The false Kamsi dissolved completely,

The witch’s eyes went wide. She clawed at the air with fury.

“No! This cannot be! I was tricked!”

Her laughter turned to scr-eams. She stomped and wailed, grasping at nothing, her coffin was now empty.

Kelly ran holding on to Kamsi tighter.

“Now!” she crie-d. “Run, Kamsi, run!”

The twins dashed across the graveyard, Behind them, the witch shrieked and cursed, but her voice sounded weaker now, broken and angry.

Anwuli pūshëd her trapping her back in her c--offin floating after Kelly and Kamsi,

The twins did not stop running until the graveyard was far behind them.

They could still hear the witch scre--aming in her gr-ave.

tbc

NB : this story wasn't edited expect minor errors!

The ghost of her twin sister

Episode 49

Watch out for the last episode!

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04/10/2025

🔥🔥🔥🔥

THE GHOST WHO WROTE ME LOVE LETTERS
PART 23

When Father came closer to me, my h-eart nearly stopped bea-ting.

I thought maybe he would shout at me for dragging him into such ma-dness. Or maybe he would tell me never to talk about the ghost again.

But his face was serious, he held the Bible against his chest lowering his voice and told me something that has never left my ears till this day.

“Your mother and your principal,” he said slowly, “had hands in his d-eath.”

I blinked. My whole ch-est turned cold. I wanted to ask which d-eath?

but my tongue refused. It was as if I already knew who he meant. The Lucas man ghost that kept stalking me.

Father’s eyes didn’t leave mine. “He was once their classmate,” he added, as if he didn’t want anyone else to hear.

“they were in school together. wore the same shorts, the same white shirts, carried the same textbooks.even prayed in the same chapel. But sin and betrayal destroyed everything.”

I couldn’t even breathe. My mother? My principal? Hands in kill--ing someone?

I shook my head without realizing. “No, Father.

My mother, she's mean at times but not capable of that.

She can’t even… sh...” I stuttered.

He placed his hand on my shoulder,

“That man you keep seeing,” he's a ghost seeking revenge, and seeing you makes his spirit angrier.

My teeth chattered. All the tears I thought had finished started again, rolling h0t down my cheeks.

How could she carry this kind of secret?

Father wiped his forehead, his cassock stained with sweat.

Then he straightened himself and said, “Listen carefully.

You must come to church immediately, not only you, bring your siblings.

All of you, Don’t waste time.”

“Stay close to the altar. Stay where prayer covers you.”

I nodded, even though my he-art was running away inside me.

He sighed and added, “I will explain more when you are safe. But know this, what you're experiencing is beyond ordinary eyes.

What your mother is going through is not ordinary as well, This school, this community we are all tied to a past that will never set us free.

The time has come.”

I wanted to ask: what about my friend ngozi, and her offenses? But it skipped my mind.

What about my mother running w!ld on the road and forest? What about the students gossiping about the missing principal?

But my mouth was locked. I could only nod,

Father made the sign of the cross over me again before walking past, I stood there trembling, thinking of how to face my siblings with this message.

And in my head, one question kept ham--mering, What if we go there, and the ghost follows us inside?

Tbc.....

I remain Remi's Books 👈

04/10/2025

The na-tive doctor was alone in his shri-ne. The room was dark, lit only by a small lamp at the corner of the room.

On the floor before him lay a pile of old b-ones, shaped like a broken statue. He sat cross legged, shaking a rattle in his hand and singing strange words that echoed in the room.

“Spirits, hear me,” he chanted. “Rise and fi-ght with me. Give me strength that no one can break.”

He sang and sang, his eyes was closed while his head swayed back and forth Suddenly, he heard a voice outside the door.

“Baba…” the voice called.

The n-ative doctor opened his eyes. He knew the voice at once. It was Sc-orpion. He frowned, surprised.

Sc-orpion had left earlier. What was he doing back?

“Come, come outside,” he called again, “I want to show you something.”

The n-ative doctor hesitated. He was not ready to show up especially while his song was not complete.

But the voice sounded serious. He stood up slowly and walked to the door.

When he stepped outside, he saw Sc-orpion waiting.

His eyes were sharp, and a strange smile played on his lips.

“What is it you want to show me?” the n-ative doctor asked.

Sco-rpion raised his hand. Before the native doctor could move, Sc-orpion blew something from his palm and sent a bla-st of h0t air forward.

The wind rushed at the nat-ive doctor like a storm.

He tried to chant words of defense, but the strong breeze caught his eyes.

It stun-g like hot f-ire and blin-ded him. He cried out, stumbling backward and falling hard to the ground.

His staff rolled away from his hand.

Sco-rpion wasted no time. He stepped quickly to his side with his eyes locked on the shining ring on the doctor’s left hand.

Sc-orpion bent down, reaching for it.

But just as his fingers touched the doctor’s hand, something strange happened.

The figure of S-corpion began to change.

His fa-ce melted away. His b0dy shifted like smoke. In the blink of an eye, he was no longer Sco-rpion at all.

Standing there were Kelly and Kamsi, holding each other’s hands tightly.

The n-ative doctor gasped, para-lyzed by shock. He tried to rise, but his body refused to move.

The power of his ring was failing him.

And then another ghost form appeared, It was anwuli. She rose from the shadows, joining the twins.

“You see, old man,” Anwuli said, “it is over. We have already won, this is the end of your story”

The native doctor’s lips trembled. He wanted to speak, to call on his spirits, but no sound came.

His che-st rose and fell heavily as he struggled for air.

Kelly looked at him with bu_rning eyes. “Your tricks are finished,” she said.

Anwuli moved to his side stretching out her hand, and Kelly placed the ring in it without hesitation. The ring glowed dim, causing Anwuli to smile.

“Without this, you are nothing,” she said to the native doctor. “Your power lives inside this circle of metal, and it is no longer yours.”

The doctor groaned in anger. His strength was leaving him. He could only watch as Anwuli turned and began to walk away and vanished.

They followed her until they reached the bank of a great river. The water was wide and deep,

Anwuli lifted the ring high into the air.

“This river cleanses and it ends,” she said.

With a swift motion, she threw the ring far into the river. It splashed and sank deep into the waters, swallowed by the current.

The moment it disappeared, the native doctor let out a long cry from far back in the shrine giving up his gh0st.,

His power had ended with the ring.

Anwuli turned back to Kelly and Kamsi and said. “It is done. The chains are broken.

He neither his apprentice are nothing, they can't ha-rm your family”

Kelly sighed in relief, tears filled her eyes.

Kamsi smiled faintly, leaning against her twin sister.

Tbc..

The ghost of her twin sister

Episode 48

Two episodes to go! and we're done with this story!

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02/10/2025

As the native doctor began walking toward Sco-rpion raising the calabash high, and his voice rolled out in a command that allowed no argument.

“You must drink from this calabash,” he said, fixing his eyes intensively on Sco-rpion.

“You left too soon and I forgot this part of the for-tifi-cat-ion. Without it, your strength is incomplete.”

Scor-pion squinted suspiciously, the calabash was filled to the brim, frothing with a thick, dark wine that smelled like herbs and bl00d mixed together.

The scent was into-xicating like something that belonged more to spirits than to men.

Sc-orpion folded his arms. “Why now? Why didn’t you give me this inside the shrine?” His logic seems to carry a sharp edge.

“Let us return there. I will drink in the place of spirits, not here like some drun-kard on the roadside.”

But the native doctor shook his head, the glow in his eyes was fi-erce, his smile curled wider.

“No. You must drink it here, Sit down, Sc-orpion, and drink.

Not a drop must be spared.”

Sco-rpion hesitated. For all his newfound power, he felt a strange unease crawl up his mind.

Something about the native doctor’s insistence was unusual. The man who had always spoken calmly, who rarely forced anything, was suddenly urgent, almost desperate.

Yet Sc-orpion’s pride was greater than his caution. He laughed harshly, shaking his head.

“You fear I doubt you? You think Scorpion is afraid of mere wine?” He reached forward and seized the calabash with both hands.

The weight was shocking, it was heavier than it looked, as though it held not just wine.

Sc-orpion lowered himself onto a fal-len log, raised the vessel to his lips, and drank.

The taste was bitter, and it būrnt his th-roat.

He drank gr-eedily, determined to prove he feared nothing. The liquid spilled down his chin and soaked into his shirt but he did not stop until he had drained it all.

When the last drop was gone, Sc-orpion lowered the calabash with a triumphant smirk.

But almost at once, the world around him was upside down and he could see the trees swaying though the wind.

The moon above tripled and multiplied in the heavens, glowing brighter and brighter until it became a white blaze in the sky.

“What… what is going on?” Scorpion gasped, nearly falling from the log.

The native doctor stood before him smiling and angry at the same time.

The wrinkles on his face vanished, And then Sco-rpion saw the truth.

It was not the native doctor at all.

It was Anwuli.

Her ghostly form moved closer with a fierce yet so-rrowful eyes, her hands was still holding the calabash as though it weighed nothing.

Sco-rpion st-aggered back, “Who the f**k are you? What's happening to me?”

Sco-rpion roared, holding his hea-d as the liquid inside him bur-ned hotter.

Tbc....

The ghost of her twin sister

Episode 47

Please su-pport by Sha-ring this post!

02/10/2025

REWARD OF THE W!CKED
ACT ONE
(scene 1)

(light opens at mr kola preparing to go out for work, he put on his casual wear and put on his face cap)
MR KOLA: (he tries to open the door and sneak out as mrs kola comes out from the room).
MRS KOLA: where do you think you are going you this wretched poor man
MR KOLA: I need to go out and work for money.
MRS KOLA: where is the money for food, won't you provide for your family before going out for work, or are you not going to eat?
MR KOLA: you can see I don't have money
MRS KOLA: then what are we going to do?
MR KOLA: you have to wait until i come back, maybe by then i would have struggle for some money.
MRS KOLA: (she insisted by dragging his trouser tightly) kola i said you are not going anywhere without providing for your family, our daughter kemi has not eaten anything since yesterday and here you are sneaking out and telling me that you don't have money.
MR KOLA: (ple-ading) honey please let me go, i will come back with money (he tried to go out forcefully)
(Light fades)

Check chapter 2 on Abdulhafiz Abdulazeez page 👈

01/10/2025

Because We're Nigerians 🇳🇬

Because we are Nigerians, we hustle every day,
With swëat and cry, we find a way.
Our currency may be weak, but our spirit is strong,
We thrive in the midst of struggle, all day long.

Because we are Nigerians, we face challenges bold,
From traffic jams to power outages, our patience is gold.
We complain and we laugh, we cry and we pray,
But still, we move forward.

Because we are Nigerians, our culture is rich,
Our heritage is deep, our traditions are splendid.
From chicken to dry fish, our food is a scāvenged,

Because we're Nigerians, our leaders feast and dine,
On delicacies and luxuries, while we struggle to survive.
They build bridges and roads, but ignore our cr!es,
Leaving us to scavenge, to f!ght for scraps and d!rty.

Because we're Nigerians, we're trapped in high inflation,
Where prices soar, and our money's worth less in every transaction.
We work hard, we hustle, but our wages can't keep pace,
With the rising costs, the endless expense, the financial stress and strain on our face.

Because we're Nigerians, we're forced to live in fear,
Of protests, of speaking out, of demanding what's clear.
We're silenced by the threat of violence and might,
Our voices are shut, our demands for change, lost in the night.

Because we're Nigerians, we're stuck in this cycle,
Of poverty and pain, of hunger and denial.
Because we're Nigerians, we've grown numb to others' plight,
Inflation's burden has hardened our hēarts, day and night.

We've adopted the ways of our leaders, turning a blind eye,
Leaving the struggling masses to fend for themselves, and wonder why.
We've lost empathy, and compassion's in short supply,
As long as we're okay, the pa!n of others passes us by.

But is this the Nigeria we desire to build?
A nation where selfishness reigns, and kindness grows still?
We turn on each other, in desperation and strife,
Using scāms and false promises, to get by, to survive.

Because we're Nigerians...our hopes are crushed,
Our dreams deferred, our futures hushed.
We're forced to beg, to borrow, to plead,
Just to survive, to live, to breathe.

Because we're Nigerians, our women work hard day and night,
For their families, through struggles and f!ghts.
They search for love, for acceptance, for worth,
But find only shāme, only hūrt.

Because we're Nigerians...our men are broke,
Their pride are shattered, their hëarts are unspoken.
They're labeled lāzy, they're m0cked and sc0rned,
Their potential are wāsted, their futures are torn.

Because we're Nigerians...our stomachs are empty,
Our hunger so fierce, it drives some to stéal.
But when they're caught, oh, the price we pay,
Būrnt al!ve, in a fiery blaze, we pray.

For mercy, for forgiveness, for a second chance,
But it's too late, their fate is sealed, our dance.
With dëath, with pa!n, with a life unfulfilled,
Because we're Nigerians, and our hunger was real.

Because we're Nigerians...our tëars fall like rain,
Our cries echo through the streets, in va!n.
We're searching for hope, for a glimmer of light,
But it's hard to find, in this darkest of nights.

Because we're Nigerians, we see success and wealth,
And we crave it, we covet, we can't help ourselves.
We see our fellow blacks, with prosperity and fame,
And we want it too, we want to know their secret name.

We try to replicate, to duplicate their stride,
By any means necessary, we'll step aside.
Integrity and morals, we'll compromise and bend,
Just to get ahead, to be like them, to transcend.

But in our haste, we forget, the true cost and toll,
Because we're Nigerians, we see talent and skill,
And instead of lifting each other, we try to k!ll.
We're fueled by envy, by jealousy and sp!te,
We seek to diminish, to extinguish the light.

We cr!t!cize, we m0ck, we bel!ttle and sc0rn,
The very ones who strive to rise, to be reborn.
We're quick to pull down, to dëstr0y and to shāme,
Rather than build up, to support, to proclaim.

But why do we do this? Why do we tear apart?
Is it fear of being overshadowed, of losing our part?
Or is it just a habit, a mindset we can't break?
Whatever the reason, it's time to awake.

Because we're Nigerians, we wear our colors with pride,
We're forced to feel independent, but we're not free,
Chained by hārdship, struggling to be.

Because we're Nigerians, we must rise above,
Demand change, demand justice, demand love.
We must unite, we must stand strong,
For a better tomorrow, where all can belong.

October 1st, a day of pride and cheer,
A celebration of resilience, year after year.
We rise above our struggles, united and strong,
Nigeria's spirit shines, all day long.

Dedicated to Nigeria's Independence Day.
Copyright 2025,

Written by Remi the Writer!

Don't copy without giving credits! 🇳🇬🇳🇬🇳🇬

30/09/2025

Scor-pion stepped out of the native doctor’s shrine puffing his chest up with pride.

The environment carried the smell of burning herbs and strange powders from inside. He paused outside the house bowed slightly, and spoke in a voice filled with satisfaction.

“Thank you, wise one,” Scorpi-on said. “You have done well. I swear, your name will not be forgotten.

When my victory is complete, I will reward you greatly. Gold, land, anything you want just ask.”

The native doctor only smiled with wrinkles deep, his lips barely moved as he replied.

“I do not need reward, my son What I have is more than riches. What I have given you is beyond the strength of men.

You are now fort-ified with gifts that make you indestructible. But hear me clearly strength without wisdom is as toxic as a cur-se.

Apply wisdom to your doings, or you will taste reg-ret.”

Scorp-ion chuckled darkly. “Wisdom I have. Power I now carry. Nothing can stop me.”

Without waiting for more words, he turned and marched away, with the half wo-rn out clothes swaying behind him.

As he walked down the dark streets crickets sang their shrill songs. He thought of obinna and how he had hum-iliated him before, thought of the unfinished work he must go back to complete.

Anger swel-led in his chest like f-ire.

“How da-re he stand against me by stealing my possession?” Scor-pion muttered to himself.

“I will finish what I started. Obinna and his family will not escape me, nor those children, they will know my pàins.”

His fists clenched as he walked faster. He was already deep into the path, far away from the native doctor’s house, when something strange happened.

A familiar sound came through.

“Scor-pion my son…”

He stopped immediately, his heart thumped once.

He turned sharply, scanning the shadows. The path was empty. He was alone. Or so it seemed.

“Sc-orpion…” the voice came again, stronger now.

Sco-rpion’s face darkened. He knew that voice. It belonged to the same man he had left behind at the shrine, it was the the native doctor's.

But that was impossible. He had walked far, miles away. How could the native doctor’s voice reach him here?

“Who dares play games with me?” Sco-rpion barked, “Show yourself!”

From the far end of the path the familiar figure appeared. It was indeed the native doctor, but not standing by his shrine as he would expect.

He was here, miles away, standing calmly as though he had been waiting for Scorpion all along.

In his right hand he held a calabash, dark and round, decorated with strange carvings.

His left hand carried a small cup filled with something he couldn't guess. And on his lips, the same unsettling smile remained.

Sco-rpion’s eyes widened. For the first time in a long while, “How? How did you get here before me?”

The native doctor lifted the calabash slowly, brighter. He didn’t walk, he didn’t rush. He only stood at the spot.

“You are too eager, Scor-pion,” the native doctor’s voice carried thunder across the great distance.

“Too quick to k!ll, too quick to burn. Did I not warn you? Strength without wisdom is d-anger.

You think miles mean anything to me? You think your footsteps can outrun what walks with me?”

Scorpion’s jaw dropped He refused to show fear, but his mind raced.

“This… this is trickery,” he growled. “You play games with me.”

But deep inside, a thought haunted him, What kind of man is this, that distance bends for him?

The native doctor tilted his head, that same smile on his face, and raised the calabash higher.

The sound of liquid swirled inside the calabash contents.

“Your path is not yours alone, Sc-orpion,” he said. “You are tied to more than you know. Do not forget.”

The words struck made Sc-orpion stood frozen with unanswered questions.

For the first time since leaving the shrine, he realized something frightening perhaps the native doctor was not just his helper.

Tbc...

The ghost of her twin sister

Episode 46

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29/09/2025

Agatha finally reached home with little Kamsi. Her face was still evident with tears that had dried off moments ago.

The house was quiet when she opened the door and led Kamsi inside. The girl was tired, her eyes were already sw0llen from crying at the hospital just like her mom.

“Come dear, Agatha said “Let me take you to bed. You need rest.”

Kamsi shook her head stubbornly. “Mummy I cannot sleep. I keep seeing Kelly in my mind.”

Agatha forced a weak smile, hiding her own ble--eding hea-rt. “Shhh, don’t think too much.

God is with us. Sleep will help you forget for a while.” She carried Kamsi into the small room, laid her down gently, and covered her with a thin blanket.

But when she turned to leave, Kamsi’s little hand caught hers tightly. “Don’t go mum, Sleep beside me. Please.”

Agatha could not refuse, her hea--rt ached for her daughter. She lay down beside Kamsi, wrapping her arms around her.

For a long while, they cri--ed together spilling out tears like water from a cracked pot.

Eventually, Kamsi’s eyelids grew heavy, though she still fought sleep. Agatha stroked her hair, humming a tune. Soon both mother and daughter drifted into deep slumber,

In that stillness, two shadows appeared in the corner of the room. Kelly and Anwuli.

They stood side by side, watching. Kelly’s face softened at the sight of her mother holding her twin sister close.

But Anwuli’s eyes glowed faintly, as if she had been waiting for this very moment.

“This,” Anwuli whispered, “is part of the idea I told you about.”

Kelly turned quickly to her. “What do you mean?”

Anwuli pointed at Kamsi, who now lay curled in her mother’s arms.

“Dreams are doors, Kelly. In dreams, the spirit world is open. If we touch her now, we can enter.

That is how we will begin to build the power we need.”

Kelly’s eyes widened. She looked at Agatha and Kamsi sleeping so peacefully. “You mean… go inside her dream?”

“Yes,” Anwuli replied firmly. “Trust me.”

Without another word, she moved closer to the bed. Kelly hesitated but followed.

Anwuli stretched her ghostly hand over Kamsi’s and at once, the room spun.

“Hold on!” Anwuli said.

Before Kelly could speak, they were no longer in the small room. They stood in an open, isolated place, a wide plain covered in soft desert.

The sky was neither day nor night, only an endless glow. In the distance, they heard faint sobs.

Kelly’s was curious to know where it came from. “That sound… it’s Kamsi.”

They followed the cry, and there she was, little Kamsi, sitting alone with te--ars running down her cheeks.

“Kamsi!” Kelly called out,

The girl looked up, surprised. She blinked and then jumped to her feet. " Kelly!” she cried, running straight into her arms.

Kelly bent down, holding her tight, rocking her as if she could shield her from all the sadness.

“Don’t cry again,” Kelly managed to say “I am here with you. I need you.

We need each other now.”

Kamsi held on to her, bury-ing her face in her ne-ck. “I was so scared.

Everyone in the hospital said you're de-ad, and Mum is sad. I thought I was alone.”

Kelly stroked her back gently. “You are never alone, Kamsi. But listen to me, I need your help. Something very important depends on you.”

At that moment, Anwuli stepped forward. Her eyes shone brighter in the dream world.

“Kelly is right. Kamsi, you are stronger than you know. If you and Kelly join your strength, we will have enough power to stand against the man who caused all this. Do you understand?”

Kamsi wiped her tears, nodding bravely. “Yes. I will help.”

“Good,” Anwuli said. She stretched out her hand. “Now, the two of you must hold hands together. That is how the power flows.”

Kelly took one of Kamsi’s hands. Anwuli took the other. The circle closed for a moment, nothing happened, only silence and the sound of their breathing.

Then suddenly, a strange White light began to beam from where their hands touched.

It grew brighter and brighter, forcing their eyes shut. The ground began to quake as if the dream itself was ali-ve.

Kelly and Kamsi's gasped as they held hands

“What is happening?”

Anwuli’s voice echoed in the dream.

“its the beginning of power.”

Tbc....

The ghost of her twin sister

Episode 45

Please show your support by sha-ring

27/09/2025

Part 19 🔥🔥🔥

THE GHOST WHO WROTE ME LOVE LETTERS

Part 19

My he-art froze when I saw my mother standing right there in the middle of the road. Barefoot.

Her wrapper was half tied staring like she had been wrestling with the wind.

I wanted to disappear while my siblings gasped beside me, and before I could stop them, the little ones tried to run forward with their arms spread wide like they had seen our mother return from a long journey.

I screamed inside me, no, no, don’t! But my thro-at was locked.

And then she snapped. Like a w--ild animal chased with fi-re, her eyes cut through mine.

“Don’t touch me! Don’t come near me! I will bit-e you!” She hissed, jerking her hands as if she carried invisible stones.

I wanted the ground to open and swa-llow me. How can I be standing here, watching my own mother threa-ten her children like we are strangers or worse.

I opened my mouth to call her. “Mama…” It came out soft, breaking into te-ars before the name even ended.

She looked at me like I was not her child, like I was a thie-f coming for her.

I wanted to pull her back, hold her, beg her, remind her of who she is. But my knees refused to move.

Instead, I stood there, carrying the weight of sha-me.

I spotted four women carrying calabashes on their heads, They slowed, shook their heads like judges over my life.

“Ah, this woman again,” one of them muttered. “She has finally gone in-sane”

Another one spat on the ground. “Chinyere, leave your mother alone o. If you follow her, she might bi-te you like a dog.”

B-ite me how? The same woman who once carried me on her back, sang me to sleep, pressed warm food into my mouth when I cried of hunger.

Now strangers were warning me she could b-ite me.

I felt the tears hot in my eyes before they spilled.

I could not even wipe them, because my hands felt too heavy. My siblings kept staring at me like I should know what to do. Like I had the power to make our mother normal again.

I wanted to scream at the women. To tell them to stop shaking their heads. To tell them they don’t know her the way I do.

Instead I bowed my head and swallowed my shame.

Is this what my life has become? That I must walk to school with my siblings while my mother runs ma-d into the bush and people say I should leave her alone? How am I supposed to leave her?

How can I forget the woman who raised me?

I thought of her voice before it changed into scre-ams. I thought of the day she braided my hair, telling me not to c-ry because beauty always takes p-ain.

And here I was, crying now, not for beauty, but because m--adness had stolen her away.

My uniform felt tight on my body. I wanted to drop everything and run into the bush, and find her, but fear kept me rooted.

What if she sla--pped me? What if she truly bit-e me? What if I followed her and never returned?

The women walked away, their pity trailed behind them like smoke. My siblings shuffled close with wide eyes and mouths.

They didn’t understand the full shame, but I did. I understood it too well.

So I picked up my bag again, wiped my face with the back of my hand, and forced my legs to keep walking.

I remain Remi's Books