I grow up in a community where brevity, sincerity, truth was highly respected. Being a stuborn, and intelligent and obedient boy, my father loved me very much because I was always listening to his advice and very honest to him.



it was a belief in my community that “every first male child was a symbol of strength to their parent”

However, when I was a kid I use to play a game called “ludo” it was my best game I’d played with other friends whose names were Steve, Mathew and Jack. I’d played the game with my friends,

Every evening we will lay mat on the Floor, sit down comfortably after eating the meal mama prepared for us which was mostly boiled yam and sauce mixed with cat fishes and plenty sliced onions.

Although I had five blood brothers but they were still very young, I called them ” my kiddos because they were always there to make fun with me whenever I wanted to spend time with them.

Meanwhile me and my other three friends never missed going to anywhere together..

Anyone who saw us may think they were my twin brothers because we were always coming up with the same thoughts and brallient suggestions “haha”

Now let me tell you one of my childhood experience.



“THE FIGHT”
One summer evening, 1998, after me and my friends had eaten mama’s delicious food, “egusi and Fufu. I was very happy and awaited my father’s return.

my friends went to their various home, after having a little gist with me that evening.

I was left alone to face my other situation, in order for me not to feel bored, I went into my room and took a small stool, to sit outside, by this time it was already about 7pm.



So I took my Nixus small 📻radio designed with a long antennas, powered by three tiger battery with two small micro speakers at the back

I turned it on, to search for 📻music channel to see if there was any radio station playing highlife music.

I searched and searched by using the searching botton until I hitted one of the channel “97.3 radio fm station.

“good evening everyone this is 97.3 FM station, Benin, please stay tune, it’s time to play reggae music”

I sat there, listening to Bob Marley’s song titled “no woman no cry”

I felt relaxed and the time was almost 8 pm. I stood up to see if I will see any fiquare approaching towards our house through the dimly lighted street that located our compound.

I did not see anyone, the street was empty and my mother became highly worried.

So I decided to turn off my radio and put on my shirt, ready to go to my father’s shop were he sells different foreign drinks, mostly whiskeys, to see if everything was okay,

Because at that time there was no phone, the only communication system was done through writing letters and submitting it in post office.

Anyway, so after putting on my yellow tee-shirt and my Jean trouser I headed straight my father’s shop to see what have been delaying my father from coming home.

So I took his second brown bicycle, and off I go, I passed so many goat-laned streets, everywhere was empty, the only friends that accompanied me were hungry bloody mosquitoes. Though I didn’t care because my instinct told me something bad may have happen in my father



Vexed to my soul by the buzzing mosquitoes I accelerated the speed of my bicycle by paddling hard. I felt the evening breeze bellowing and greeting my ears with cold slaps that almost stole my black broad hat away from my head.

Without minding the situation i passing three more streets, then I bent the wheel to the left to bear more cold slap from the wind that evening.

It was almost at past 10pm, so on reaching my fathers shop I saw two strong men beating my father.

“oh my God, I screamed silently, without thinking about another option I took off the cutlass that I earlier tied on the back iron seat of my bicycle.

These two strong men couldn’t notice my movement, because they thought I was an errand boy who wanted to buy a drink.what ever make them think so, I didn’t care.

So I quickly hided my sharped cutlass on my back, by taking my left hand backwards as if was about to make an adjustment of my waist leather belt.

Without uttering any word one of them came towards me, beckoning and telling me to go back that the shop was closed for that today.

I look at him disgust-fully, and pretentiously laughed.then he turn back to go into the shop,while thinking that I had left.

Before he knew what was happening I pull out my cutlass from my back, dived at him and slash his left hand He’d screamed and staggered back,

I make a quick move again using my knee and gave him a hot blow that landed on his nose cavity, then I whim him hardly on the forehead with the flat side of my cutlass.

He unconsciously fell to the ground.

While the other thief was busy packing the money from the save box after threatening my father with a gun.

I felt that pain and anger boiling inside of me as I saw my father through the front window been beaten to rumble.

So after fighting the first one outside who was now lying unconsciously on the ground.

I quickly rushed into the shop, like a spirit, took a bottle of beer drink, break it on the wall and throw it at the thief.

He’d dodged, I was furious and my father saw me, I guess he wasn’t happy to see do what I did.

“stop that, I said stop it son” he shouted at me.

I loved my father very much because of the danger that was facing me I could not stop.

The thief took out his short battle axe, while still harmed with a gun.

He shot at me, I was lucky to miss the first bullet,then I made a quick move and dived at him

A fierce fight broke out between us,

Although I felt his strong punches landing on my nose, it was painful.

Quickly I swayed my leg and deflated his arm. Then I hit him hard with a bottle that I manage to grab with my hand on the floor.

He fell, and groaned bitterly then my father set loosed himself with the help of small orange knife he’d struggled to pick from his back pocket, at where he was tied.

Hastily my father took another strong empty jacks whiskey’s bottle and hit it hard on the thief’s head again by this time.

I could not tell if the thief laid dead on the ground or not.

So I stood up and embrace my Father.

The end.

, its a fiction. I intelligently composed

preview not available

I grow up in a community where brevity, sincerity, truth was highly respected. Being a stuborn, and intelligent and obedient boy, my father loved me very much because I was always listening to his advice and very honest to him.



it was a belief in my community that “every first male child was a symbol of strength to their parent”

However, when I was a kid I use to play a game called “ludo” it was my best game I’d played with other friends whose names were Steve, Mathew and Jack. I’d played the game with my friends,

Every evening we will lay mat on the Floor, sit down comfortably after eating the meal mama prepared for us which was mostly boiled yam and sauce mixed with cat fishes and plenty sliced onions.

Although I had five blood brothers but they were still very young, I called them ” my kiddos because they were always there to make fun with me whenever I wanted to spend time with them.

Meanwhile me and my other three friends never missed going to anywhere together..

Anyone who saw us may think they were my twin brothers because we were always coming up with the same thoughts and brallient suggestions “haha”

Now let me tell you one of my childhood experience.



“THE FIGHT”
One summer evening, 1998, after me and my friends had eaten mama’s delicious food, “egusi and Fufu. I was very happy and awaited my father’s return.

my friends went to their various home, after having a little gist with me that evening.

I was left alone to face my other situation, in order for me not to feel bored, I went into my room and took a small stool, to sit outside, by this time it was already about 7pm.



So I took my Nixus small 📻radio designed with a long antennas, powered by three tiger battery with two small micro speakers at the back

I turned it on, to search for 📻music channel to see if there was any radio station playing highlife music.

I searched and searched by using the searching botton until I hitted one of the channel “97.3 radio fm station.

“good evening everyone this is 97.3 FM station, Benin, please stay tune, it’s time to play reggae music”

I sat there, listening to Bob Marley’s song titled “no woman no cry”

I felt relaxed and the time was almost 8 pm. I stood up to see if I will see any fiquare approaching towards our house through the dimly lighted street that located our compound.

I did not see anyone, the street was empty and my mother became highly worried.

So I decided to turn off my radio and put on my shirt, ready to go to my father’s shop were he sells different foreign drinks, mostly whiskeys, to see if everything was okay,

Because at that time there was no phone, the only communication system was done through writing letters and submitting it in post office.

Anyway, so after putting on my yellow tee-shirt and my Jean trouser I headed straight my father’s shop to see what have been delaying my father from coming home.

So I took his second brown bicycle, and off I go, I passed so many goat-laned streets, everywhere was empty, the only friends that accompanied me were hungry bloody mosquitoes. Though I didn’t care because my instinct told me something bad may have happen in my father



Vexed to my soul by the buzzing mosquitoes I accelerated the speed of my bicycle by paddling hard. I felt the evening breeze bellowing and greeting my ears with cold slaps that almost stole my black broad hat away from my head.

Without minding the situation i passing three more streets, then I bent the wheel to the left to bear more cold slap from the wind that evening.

It was almost at past 10pm, so on reaching my fathers shop I saw two strong men beating my father.

“oh my God, I screamed silently, without thinking about another option I took off the cutlass that I earlier tied on the back iron seat of my bicycle.

These two strong men couldn’t notice my movement, because they thought I was an errand boy who wanted to buy a drink.what ever make them think so, I didn’t care.

So I quickly hided my sharped cutlass on my back, by taking my left hand backwards as if was about to make an adjustment of my waist leather belt.

Without uttering any word one of them came towards me, beckoning and telling me to go back that the shop was closed for that today.

I look at him disgust-fully, and pretentiously laughed.then he turn back to go into the shop,while thinking that I had left.

Before he knew what was happening I pull out my cutlass from my back, dived at him and slash his left hand He’d screamed and staggered back,

I make a quick move again using my knee and gave him a hot blow that landed on his nose cavity, then I whim him hardly on the forehead with the flat side of my cutlass.

He unconsciously fell to the ground.

While the other thief was busy packing the money from the save box after threatening my father with a gun.

I felt that pain and anger boiling inside of me as I saw my father through the front window been beaten to rumble.

So after fighting the first one outside who was now lying unconsciously on the ground.

I quickly rushed into the shop, like a spirit, took a bottle of beer drink, break it on the wall and throw it at the thief.

He’d dodged, I was furious and my father saw me, I guess he wasn’t happy to see do what I did.

“stop that, I said stop it son” he shouted at me.

I loved my father very much because of the danger that was facing me I could not stop.

The thief took out his short battle axe, while still harmed with a gun.

He shot at me, I was lucky to miss the first bullet,then I made a quick move and dived at him

A fierce fight broke out between us,

Although I felt his strong punches landing on my nose, it was painful.

Quickly I swayed my leg and deflated his arm. Then I hit him hard with a bottle that I manage to grab with my hand on the floor.

He fell, and groaned bitterly then my father set loosed himself with the help of small orange knife he’d struggled to pick from his back pocket, at where he was tied.

Hastily my father took another strong empty jacks whiskey’s bottle and hit it hard on the thief’s head again by this time.

I could not tell if the thief laid dead on the ground or not.

So I stood up and embrace my Father.

The end.

, its a fiction. I intelligently composed

preview not available