When all odds are against you

If you tossed a coin myriad times in a gamble waiting for the tail to win  in support of me, then you would be waiting probably for eternity. I was just a quintessence of truancy. I virtually missed all except when lectures was to be handled by my academic tutor. Despite the unfriendly nature of the semester, I enjoyed a brisk semester by ricochetting from one party to another. I hardly missed any birthday party. 

Not that my alarm was faulty; my alarm had tintinnabulated with a shrill tone, but I had slept in profundity that I could not even feel the weight of a placard that had fallen on my face, and the amazing part was that the sound had lasted for almost an hour. I took a stimulant- caffeine- to help him stay awake throughout the night but all I did became dead in the water. I woke up after two hours when my exam for the day was about commencing. So I wore the shirt I wore the ereyesterday, slipped my foot into one of my old sneakers and hurried to the exam centre. It is amazing how all these menaces never inclined me to fret. 

With my equableness I strutted to join the queue waiting for my turn to enter. My first two touches, one on each side of my pocket, was a big wake-up call to me. I had left my student ID card in my cubicle! “Really?” I asked myself. I pleaded for consideration from the security man, but the security man did not grant me favour. I was only made to enter after I explained things to my academic tutor. 

I strolled through the lanes searching for my seat. I found my seat eventually at the back when one guy signalled me. I sat, shaded my index number and all other protocols. It was at the course code session I realised I had learnt a different course. My heart began to thump. I began to process my prayers, and fortunately or unfortunately for me, I happened to sit in tandem to the best student of my class, Samuel. I made the cross sign and sighed greatly. “B))dee33 ooo.”(lol) 

Coincidentally, samuel’s paper was skewed to the right so I could see unto it with no obstruction. Under twenty minutes, I finished the paper and did not even bother skimming through to look out for and correct mistakes. Not even a cursory look! Before, I had seen an inscription as “W23” on the top right corner of samuel’s scantrom, but it never pricked or tickled me. I stood and submitted my paper. It was then I knew the meaning of that inscription on samuel’s paper. 

Each one was supposed to check the footpage of page 8 for a secret code and then rewrite on the top of the scantrom. I had not done that. Quickly, my hands began to shake. My lips were jiggling in tetany. “Gentleman, what is it? Submit your paper and leave!” A satiric voice told me. I looked to see my mates and, then, up. Tears started to trickle down. I had copied wrongly. My secret code was Y12. What was I going to do?


The diagnosis


I was half dead to the world so I overheard them converse. I whipped my head around the room to see if there was anyone who might as well have heard what I heard. To my utter dismay, I was the only one in the room, lying on that sick bed. Was I suffering from a flu or meningitis? My heart begun hammering. Meningitis was one disease I feared most. It could easily take away all your precious life without leaving a remnant. I asked myself in a faltering tone if I was going to die. If I died, I would blame my parents for they delayed me in the house all in the name of divine healing. And if not for anything I knew at all, at least I knew that the bacterial form of this disease was a fatal and unmerciful one. It decides in whim to take your life as fast as it could. My heartbeat could not abate, but to only keep pejorating.
I laid quiet on the bed sobbing within my soul, when the door opened. It was a man in a white overall. He was tall and dark. His moustache and beard were scary. I doubt if he came purposely to treat me. He paced across the room, intermittently spying on me. 

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“Hey. What’s your name again?” He turned to face me while tousling his beard. He approached me and passed his right palm across my forehead. 


“Fine. We need a diagnosing machine to be able to detect what actual disease it is that is affecting you. But it happens that our only machine is faulty. We may have to transfer you to an equivalent hospital as big as this,or even bigger than this so that you could be diagnosed of your disease.” 

“My disease? Sir, am I going to die? I overheard a conversation about one matter being either flu or meningitis. Was it referential to me?” “That wasn’t about you.” he sighed greatly and continued, “erm…honestly it was about you. Your condition alternates between that of a flu and a meningitis. Which one in particular, we are not sure. But I assure you that you are going to be fine.” 

“You haven’t even been able to diagnose my disease. Yet you tell me I will be fine?What if the causative agent in my system is multiplying at a faster rate than my body can control? Won’t I be dead by tomorrow before sunrise?” I spoke with a burning heart. I held and pulled his tie, until he choked before I released him. He coughed hard, and left my presence. My mind could not become stable. I was so disturbed and distressed.

 At morning the next day the door opened; this time around, it wasn’t him alone. He came with one other professional. He also had a white overall. He was not as tall as the first man who came, but he was fair with no beard; only a moustache. He pulled an armchair from under a table and made himself comfortable. He asked for my hand and assisted me to sit up on the bed. 

“Alright. You shall be fine. For now, there’s no diagnosing machine to use, but we will perform a small exercise.” 

His tone of voice started to make me feel strong and hopeful. I nodded to his assertion.

“I would want you to bend your neck slightly.” He instructed me. They all were quiet while they watched me try to bend my neck, but I could not bend. There seemed to be a discordance between bending my neck and the twitchng of my knee and hip. When I tried flexing my neck, it was my knee and hip that flexed. He looked at me nodding his head in a confident way. 

“Thank you. We shall perform another last exercise and that will be it for your diagnosis. And then, you will start medication.” I smiled after hearing him. 

“In this exercise, you will have to lie in the supine position, and extend your leg after flexing it at your knee and hip.” I laid flat on the bed, flexed my leg at my knee and hip. Upon extending my leg, I felt a sharp pain in my thigh that I couldn’t extend it fully. He smiled and pat on the other’s shoulder and left my presence. 


Flu and meningitis are known to present with the same signs and symptoms– stiff neck, severe headache, fever etc. However, the simple difference lies in their diagnosis, of which in meningitis, a physical examination will suffice.

Brudzinski’s sign- flexing the knee and hip when the neck is actually supposed to be flexed. 

Kernig’s sign- extending a flexed leg at the knee and hip present with sharp pain in the thigh.



She got into a car with Johnny and Raina, a seemingly nice, young couple with a baby, while hitchhiking to a friend’s birthday party. She never got to the birthday party. 

About fifteen minutes into driving, Johnny pulled off to a dirt road. He held a knife at her throat, and threatened to kill her. He bound her, bagged her and put a homemade box on her head. 

“What’s your name, and where were you going to?” Johnny asked her while she still had the homemade box on her head. She was quiet without any answer. 

“Hey, you slut, I am talking to you.” He mouthed while he smothered her through strangulation. 

“I am Nancy. I was going to a friend’s birthday party and I decided to hitchhike, and believing you to possess compassion and radiate kindness to me, you rather proved me wrong.” She whined. 

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She was squeezed into a coffin-like box, and kept under a water-bed. She spent all but an hour in the box. A day never passed without her facing humiliations like scolding, rape, and assaults. 

Being at the end of one’s tether in conditions like this is a next-likely thing to happen. But she restrained herself because the result of that is just an exacerbation of the illicit actions of the those involved- The captors. 

In the light of this, although her life was in limbo, she spent all her twenty-three hours traveling around her fondest places in her mind. It was something that made her happier and immune to the harsh conditions she faced. 

One night she was freed from 11pm-12am. Johnny had awaken her to warn her. 

“I belong to a child-trafficking fraternity. They know about your presence here. Don’t try to escape in an attempt of self-manumission. Otherwise I would be killed.” 

His countenance, coupled with his assertion, was true but she couldn’t believe at that time because he had lied to her earlier. (He had told her earlier that they help and care for strangers.) Without any evidence to the contrary, she decided to stick to his ‘plan’. It was only that night she enjoyed one of the nicest wines the couple had sipped early in the afternoon. 

She could have threatened him with his ‘plan’ though. But she decided to remain sober. After all no position is permanent! 

How could someone in a deep well like this presume so? 

On her arrival at their quaint appartment she had asked if she could get the bible, and Raina said to “be her guest.” Raina hadn’t been warm for several days. She had told Nancy before that her demeanor was none of her business so she didn’t bother probing further. 

Nancy either did one or both of these while she was cooped up in the coffin-like box: 

Either she read her bible or wandered around her fondest places in her mind. All was meant to achieve the same result-feel gay! She forwarded the preponderous of her thoughts to the bible. She prayed most of the time for a divine intervention to liberate her from this state of oblivion.


In the wake of tension and incriminations, probably due to her long prayers, Raina walked up to her one evening and told her that she needed to escape before taking her to her parents’ home while Johnny was out of the house. Even though it seemed Raina was helping her, it, in one way or the other, helped her in return. She had been scared of her husband’s endeavour, and that she had sought for a way to protect herself before her husband turned to her. She quickly hurried to the police to make her statement.

Good Vibes

In my reverie, while I sat in a chair rocking back and forth, I decided to stop the pencil at the margin…

But after bouncing back from exhaustion it pricked me to write a story just as any writer will do… 


Widdup was an average person, who did not earn so much from his work, but tried to chill at the club, at least, once in two weeks to have fun and be relieved of stress that has compounded in him. One friday, he was at the club, and there he saw one beautiful lady in a short mini skirt, exposing her soft, enticing thighs…with a vest-like tank top that exposed her cleavages and her navel area. 

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“Hey…I was so enchanted by your beauty that I ran into that wall over there. So I am going to need your name and number for insurance purposes.” That was his pick up line with the girl he met at the club. He said with a smile.

 “haha…you must be an interesting guy.” She said while she bit her lips lightly.

 Honestly, Angelina was a beautiful girl that not anyone at all could approach, let alone to start up a dialogue with her- she was approached by rich handsome men. 

Who was Widdup to have approached her? He wasn’t that handsome; he wasn’t earning that much- a dual menace!

 Although Widdup was the least of men, he had the confidence to approach any lady of his choice, and vibes to melt their hearts at first sight.

 She pulled the lady to one corner of the club, sat round a table with her and ordered for some drinks from the bartender. They chat and had fun.

 “Ladies first. So you’ve got to tell me your name, uhuh.” 

“You seem to go with chivalries. Anyway, I’m Angelina.” 

“Wow, nice name. Next is me, uhuh.” 

“I’m Widdup.”

 “Do you live around here?” 

“No. I’m on the next two streets from here- B street.” 

“really? I’m also on that same street, the picturesque flat on your right.” 

During their conversation, occasionally, Angelina tapped his shoulders while she laughed. Was she falling for this average guy called Widdup? Or, perhaps, it was just an act of flirtation? Well but sometimes it is difficult seeing the end from the beginning so let’s not bother imagining the end- time is the best teller. 

After having a nice time with her, he asked to be excused- he had nowhere important to go though. Maybe it was part of his ‘women-conning adventure’- I’m only thinking. 

“Would you hold this while we go for a walk,”  He mouthed with a cajoling voice while he stretched forth his right arm. He took her contact; they rambled and finally returned to the place where he met her. He hugged her warmly and kissed her cheeks, saying in a very low tone: 

“It was nice having you. Catch you later.” 

That small act of Widdup sensitized Angelina that she wished she could get hold of him for that whole night. But… 

She watched Widdup closely while he departed, intermittently waving at him. 

Albeit Widdup was an average person, he always tried to look as presentable as he could. His hair was curly, and he had a light-toned skin, which made the hairs on his arm very visible; his nose was flat; his upper lip was pouted.


Angelina entered into the university, pursued her program of interest and finally became married to Widdup, who then became an aide to the manager of his workplace.
Where you meet a girl does not matter. Life is what you perceive and want it to be…