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Welcome to RENEGADETALKS......... New post dropping soon🔥🔥



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Questions

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The very afternoon the rector called my name in the Conference hall as the next person to work in father Wilson's room remains fresh in in my memory like a new name,how Andy and Gozie shook my shoulder roughly in felicitation and how my other friends who were sitting around hailed me like i had won a lottery. I always remember how ambivalent I felt after the announcement,  happy because it was actually one of the few functions everyone wanted in the school. Besides I had just finished working in the pig farm and working in the father's house was a big upgrade.....I mean, who didn't want to work in the father's rooms?,So that they would place crisp 1000 naira notes in your happy palms in the morning on the days you would vacate for mid term breaks and termly holidays , saying "nga ego Moto",even though it was always bigger than the "ego moto", and on the dreaded Saturdays , while other students cut grasses in the scalding and enervating sun, you wou...
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SOAP OPERA 🚿

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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 calamit...
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Smokes and Joints

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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...
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