Renegadetalks

T.K paused the audio book he was listening to with the stereo remote and reclined on the plush leather seat. With a slight push, he made the seat spin around twice as he smiled to himself." How time flies " he thought.  Two years ago he was appointed Principal of the "Awka institute for the blind and Visually impaired ". The  second academic term was almost over and he was looking forward to the holidays," maybe I'll go down to Nanka and see my parents " he thought or maybe...... The voice of his secretary, Fiona interrupted his thoughts. "Three people are here to see you Sir,she declared,"a man a woman and a girl. T.K sighed, wondering which of the parents of the students was here to complain again. "Send them in",he said , putting on his game face. If he wasn't blind , he would've recognized the there visitors in his office before Fiona introduced them.- Mr Onwuka, his wife and their daughter  Uju, his ex . Struggling to v

By the ending of 1966,  I was living my best life in the bustling University town of Nsuka. After completing my two year apprenticeship under the tutelage of the legendary Emeka Okoye at Onitsha, I  had opened a photography  studio close to the University of Nigeria, the very first studio there. Every single photograph around the town,from the matriculating students with their bell bottom trousers ,afro styled haircuts and MaryJane shoes to the traditional marriages and weddings all had my insignia ," J.I OKAGUE PHOTOS" inscribed on them.                2 years later, everything changed with the Biafran insurrection.  Within two years i had left the fallen Nsuka after watching my 4 year old studio turn into a rubble  to flee to my  friends house at Abakpa  before  i trekked all the way with some Onitsha traders who were running away too for three blistering days till we reached my hometown Nando. The calamitous sound of  advancing gunfire, bombings and airstrikes kept on dict

Odili never heard the tall lanky man  walk into their compound that cold December morning. It was Christmas afterall and it was normal for people to  visit  them  in the morning sometimes in twos and threes , with the chewing sticks dangling from their mouths He had woken up and heard his father discussing with a familiar voice before he cupped his hands,peered through the opaque glass window and saw them in the verandah, a bottle of Lords dry gin and two glasses sitting gallantly on a stool between them like a trophy of war. He didn't know much about the lanky man  except that he ran a scanty kiosk  at the junction where he always smoked hemp and everytime his mother drove him and Nwamaka around during the yuletide,  they would always see the man and  his friends at the junction drinking and smoking their joints . Whenever they passed the kiosk his mother would always say "tufiakwa", "ndi igbo!"   snapping her fingers noisily before she returned them to the ste

OLISAEMEKA! I don't quite remember whether it was the sound of the crowing chickens or the desperate bleats of the ever hungry goats in the pen that woke me up that morning.       I opened my bloodshot eyes and stretched like a flying bird, clearly starved of sleep ,I had slept for just an hour or so.  Whoever made history the first paper in the Senior School Certificate Examination deserved death by flogging with a peppered cane.       I had read all through the night to the wee hours of the morning, the molten candle wax trickling all the way from the top of the locker to the cracked floor,a white evidence.          I and my friend Olisa were the only candidates that offered history from St Patrick's.             Widespread  complaints about the collosal history notes, hatred for Mr Iwuchukwu our history teacher and the legend that it was impossible to pass history in the SSCE had generated a strong opprobrium for the subject and offering it was  considered a fools errand.  

Death in Paradise. Jarvis spotted his target the moment he stepped into the lodge, Afterall it wasn't so much of a task to locate an old man residing in the same lodge with University students. Even if he wasn't sure, the round "Awolowo " spectacles resting gracefully on the nose of his target was unmistakable from the picture the Chief had sent him. The instruction from the Chief had been quite simple over the phone, "Find your target and exterminate him... 1.5 million Naira will be yours". Even if he had questions, the thought of the numerous problems the money wouldn't solve for him quickly shut him up. He glanced once more at the picture of his target . His name was David Okafor, a 66 year old freelance journalist working with Sun Newspapers. Recently, his article on the murder of a popular Journalist , Remi Balogun suspectedly by a prominent politician had been published and from the ongoing story, it appeared he knew too much and he wasn't read

COVID-19: What Next? Our problems actually began on the 27th day of March 2020 when an Italian citizen in Lagos tested positive to Corona virus in Lagos.  Since then, the COVID 19 has turned out to be a catastrophic disaster not only in Nigeria but globally. It has resulted in sad and unfortunate deaths. People not only in Nigeria but all over the world are dying daily , fighting invisible enemy In our country, just like in other countries ,it is incontrovertible that the disease has not only brought into light our  errors ,it has also resounded the need to free our people from the shackles of poverty,restructure our economy, improve the standard of living of our people and above all, radically revamp the weak health sector. Nevertheless,it is a clarion call for us and an opportunity to set things straight in many ways for our own good.  The lessons to be learnt from this pandemic are too many but this essay narrows it down to the health sector which is unarguably the most important. O