Happy New Month Ibukun-lovers🙏(unfortunately I can’t find an emoji with a covered face here😊) or is it Happy New Year?
I’ve missed y’all! Did you miss me? Not so much? Little? Greatly?
Thanks to everyone who sent a mail, DMd me on IG to find out what’s up with me. . . but I’ve been great. . . apart from the normal life challenges we all have at one point in time, not so much of an alarming situation.
Today, I’m grateful for the gift of life, challenges faced, mistakes made and the journey I’m walking and another phase of healing and rising God is walking and putting me through. It’s not about how many times we fall or are afflicted but about choosing and finding strength to rise above all.
I’m so glad to announce that on Friday this week, I will be signing out officially and be hanging my jungle boots and will also be saying a hearty goodbye to under the sun and in the rain! This post isnt about my service year journey but my way of announcing consistency and saying I’m back for good🙌 (somebody say Amen😁😁😁).
Marking that, MEMOIRS OF A REPENTANT HOOKER is coming back and a whole of other things.
Before then, enjoy this flash fiction. . . much love! Tell ya friends and acquaintances, we’re opened again for serious business☺😘😘😘
FINDING THE DEAD
For three days, I couldn’t step out of my own room. The lights were steadily on and my eyes were very difficult to shut. The street was calm with everyone’s shop firmly locked; the ones who had guts to open theirs in the evening weren’t much. Mrs. Smith’s death had sent everyone into hiding as the Police wouldn’t stop parading themselves up and down looking for whom to bring in for questioning.
I remembered how my reaction was the day it happened. I couldn’t place my feelings even though everyone surrounding her corpse was lamenting. The marks all over her body had left her almost unrecognizable. The Police said someone had anonymously told them her husband gave her a serious beating the night of the incident. Their theory was that after he finished giving her the beating of her life, he expected her to stand up but she couldn’t, then it dawned on him what he had done and had to sneak her body out of the house only to drop her by the roadside.
I tried getting the thoughts of the analysis of my head but I couldn’t. Mr. & Mrs. Smith lived one house away from mine; they were good and well-to-do couple even though they tried to mask the fact that they were unhappy from everybody. Once, I had caught Mr. Smith beating Mrs. Smith when I visited my friend who lived in the compound two weeks before the incident but it was quite difficult for me to believe he could have done that to his wife’s corpse even if it happened that she gave up in the course of the beating.
It was true what they said; never trust a man with your life lest you die a shameless death like Mrs. Smith.
~ 2017. Ibukunwrites
“He was a weak man.
The sort who needed
to crush a woman
to feel powerful.” ~ John Mark Green