Fiction

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By the time this night is over
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By the time this night is over
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No diggity
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Missing you now: Ep 5 of 5
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Missing you now: Ep 4 of 5
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Missing you now: Ep 2 of 5
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Missing you now: Ep 1 of 5
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My name is not Susan (sequel to 20/20)
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That’s what friends are for
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20/20

By the time this night is over

What did they say? One ought to pass through school while allowing the school pass through one? Or something like that. One without the other meant a half-baked student…presumably. How would she explain it to the outside world or herself for that matter? Four years in a university and not once did she personally experience the popular, night time study also known as TDB (‘Till Day Break) or awoko as it was termed in Delta State University where she’d spent a year?  What would her excuse be? Her assimilation periods were early in the mornings between 7 & 9am, and early evenings between 5 & 8pm? She didn’t subscribe to late night reading, much less pulling an all-nighter? She believed nights were for sleeping, not reading or forcing your brain to comprehend lecture notes, especially after a tough day of lectures and other things? She was bothered about safety at night? All her reasons fell flat in front of her friends, Efe and Julia, who supported after- hours reading, and revelled in the practice. At any given time, they could provide valuable information on the suitability and goings- on of certain different faculties at nights. “The quiet places are engineering, law, and, maybe, agriculture.” Julia pointed out often, listing locations at which she could be found when exams loomed. “But if you don’t want to go far, try the common rooms.” Efe added, rarely ever caught dead in any of the aforementioned places. She hopped from one faculty to the other, and, while studying, made new friends and acquired admirers. Irenosen couldn’t help but compare her with itinerant Christians who church-hopped, in search of the elusive miracle. They were clueless, however, as to the situation in the Faculty of Sciences as it neither attracted them or was within their circle of influence. Often, the Faculty of Social Sciences and Arts was the place to be for Irenosen. Early in the mornings or early in the evenings. There, her friends claimed, was where the party was at. However, she always missed out because her reading schedules never coincided with the start”more

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No diggity

Why was this visit different from all the others? Suddenly, she was conscious of the looks and glances aimed her way as she walked on by. This had to be the umpteenth time she was parading these walls, this topless terrain of Uniben. So why did she suddenly feel like a goldfish out of water? Maybe because she was, and blast Uncle Mike’s comment!s!

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Missing you now: Ep 2 of 5

He started talking as they exited the hostel and into an equally spirited car park on a typical Saturday campus night, regardless of the examination period. “A lot has happened since the last time we spoke.” He began, a little animated. They strode towards the edge of the wide park, towards the night traders in freshly cooked moimoi and oven-fresh, student-sized loaves, their combined scents waffling in the air; their numerous candles lit up like fireflies lining the fringe of the park. “I have been transferred to another office.” He announced, deep-set eyes twinkling in the semi-darkness. “Hence the handing over.”

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Missing you now: Ep 1 of 5

1998. A New Year’s Day poolside picnic organised by a family friend of hers, Victor, who also happened to be a friend of his. Of the 16 young people present, he was one of the six who was a stranger. During a mandatory introduction by all, his name piqued her interest. Tanorack? Anorak meant coat in French! What kind of name was that?! Later, she’d discover it was a combination of his given and nick names, and surname. It was a thing with him. A name he hoped would stick.

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20/20

When she pulled away, he was reluctant to let go. She smelt good. The way he remembered. How many times had he replenished her stock of signature scent? More than was necessary. “I heard you got married.” He kept his voice casual, subtly searching for the telling sign of commitment. “Congratulations.” And adopting a look he hoped reflected his words.

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