Novels by Osuagwu Alexander

A poem dedicated to “blood and water” by Osuagwu Alexander.MY SINWhat actually led me hereWhat have I doneCould I have saved himWas I scared or stupidAm writing to free my guiltBut reading this scriptLiterally pricks my conscienceAll I did was watchBut I feel my ignorance was a sinAnd it haunts me dailyI’ve always been waryBut this blame was mineIt was halp past nineOn that cold dark nightA scene pictographed in meMy eyes met him afarHis heels were in motionHis eyes were redFilled with undeniable fearHe was limpingHis body filled with shiveringHe kept on strugglingBeing aware of his doomed fateBecause of his faithAn opposition of religionWhich innovated destructionAn environment where ethnicityHas disrupted ethicalityAnd im

Elsie was buried the next day. A little wood carved as her coffin. I would always remember the tender smile and care on her face, she was the first love of my life and the first cut is the deepest. I didn’t cry I had learnt how to live hiding my own feelings. I watched as she was covered up in the sand, I forced the tears out from my eyes but they just would not fall out.I cursed myself for not being able to cry, the fury in my heart eating deep into my veins. “She was a good girl” the elderly woman said to me.Elsie was not just a good girl, she was something else, I would use the phrase “exceptional” when it came to her. She literally had this “crazy” attitude that jingled all through my heart.Moving on without her was very herculean though we had only known for months of war, I still felt that she was the best person to have been in my life. I could remember our conversations together, how it made me fee

All is fair in love and war, desperate times calls for desperate measures. Our survival was based on our innate ability to strive. The skies cried out at such malefaction, the heavens thundering as if it was trying to curse the oppressors.When it started, we expected it to end but it trudged on, we were violated by the aftermath as it tore through our once peaceful homes. Some of us danced to the tune, carrying guns to fight back what they called “injustice”. What about us who had fragile minds who could not stand to shed blood.We ran, being entangled between groups: one group branded us as “saboteurs” because we did not join in on the fight, they came to plunder on our survival retrospecting on the fact that weaklings and feeble minds like us had no reason to exist.The other group were solely aimed on destroying our social existence, they spat at our religion, abhorred our culture, tearing through to terminate every fragment of

I had been in the camp for a month but the past one week had been very different, we had been attacked ruthlessly, sometimes with heavy bombardments dropping and tearing through our camp. Each new day we arose, we prepared our souls to meet the almighty creator and when we slept, we snored with one eyes open and our ears alert to any rapid movement. The heavy bombs had torn our homes to shreds, death tolls were increasing daily, tragedy ridiculing everything we had imagined possible.Even Elsie could not stand it, her face became very sullen: sometimes when there was no way that a patient will survive, she would shed series of tears.“What’s the meaning of life?” she asked me one day “After all, we will all die” she had seen enough, dripping blood, amputations, hot chases. I could see the fears in her eyes, she might have been good at concealing but not this time.“Elsie…” I called gently “Don’t say su

The sun woke me from my deep slumber, my eyes still hazy. I pulled myself up, took my walking stick and continued straight through the path. My father would normally say “Seeing the sunrise shows that the day will be good.” I needed help or else my fate was undetermined. I could see a distant smoke, my eyes which were socked in desolation became agile as it sought for this source of hope. I broke wild into this specific direction, the journey seemed so far. At long last, after trekking for such a long mental time, I got to my destination.My gut was right. It was a small camp, crowded with people. I glared in awe, they seemed so peaceful as they went on their daily business. The women were taking care of the children while the men were carrying hoes and machetes into the bush. A sign inscribed “Welcome to the home of refugees.” They had created clustered homes for themselves, living on the support and protection of one another. The entrance was b

My eyes remained unflinched at the boy who seemed to terrorize me. His teeth was broken, his eyes were red probably because he had been boozed, he was bare bodied with a lot of marks on his body.He was probably younger than I was but the sound of war retards the concept of age. He was carrying a gun which weighed more than him.My mind kept on perturbing me “Take your chance”, I knew the consequences of trying what my mind had picture, I also knew the outcome of being weak and defenseless.I pondered – trying to decipher the right step to take, my mind solely concentrated on the boy. My height was an edge over him which seemed to make me his superior, he raised his hands to the trigger, I was sure that he would shoot, my idea seemed to take control over me. I clenched my fists very hard, folding it then released a heavy punch, he was taken by surprise as my fists jammed his face, racketing through his skull and eyes.Fists

Judi knew what must be done. She must retrieve the evidence and prove her innocence if she must stand against the syndicate. She was just one innocent fragile girl. The syndicate was the most powerful mafia conglomerate in the country. As long as anyone knew, the syndicate was invisible and totally a ghost association. Most people who asked about the syndicate, ended up disappeared or just totally hacked to death with no trace. This was a system that Tuesday had traced and discovered. It was the same thing that got him killed.Judi knew she might never come back from this alive. She didn’t intend to. All she wanted was to clear her name and take down the syndicate who would do anything to keep her mouth shut. She brought out the ruffled paper from her back pocket and peered at it once more. She had to get it done immediately. She just had to get the tapes or nothing else matters. Not even her innocence.She had nothing left. Not even a roof over her head. She fel

Staring out of the window, Gracie Paulie felt like Cinderella in a glass castle hidden away from all the charming princes ready to steal her away. Gracie was just nine years old but she always had an amazing mind. Her hazel eyes reminded her everyday of how close she felt to Hades. She was just a pretty brown skin girl with a curly overgrown hair. She had the most beautiful hair ever. It totally rocked. She loved to feel the soft curly texture of her overgrown natural hair which was beautifully trimmed. This was the most peaceful moment of her existence. She just loved having the wind hit against her face. She loved the way it bristled her hair. It was a feeling that nothing could explain.Sometimes, when the wind billowed her hair to fly. All she did was just sing with such softness. Her voice was so beautiful whenever she sang. It was just like that of Anne from the opera movie. She just sat on the pavement of her gl

Judi kept on walking towards the sun. Heck, she had just escaped one of them. He must have been a terrible sprinter. Now, those early morning training sessions paid off. A memory of running through the streets every morning resurrected on her mind. Funny, how you get to miss stuffs that didn't even make sense when you could do them. She missed her life back then. It was just like it had been so long, since she lived as Judi. So long, since she had run around the street with Makinde every morning. He was the one who had pushed her into running, always complaining that she was going to be plump soon. She knew there was no way she would be fat... absolutely no way. Makinde had his wits. He was just the most persuasive person she had ever met.She had done so many things for him...so many things she just couldn't remember. She smiled as she recaptured an old memory."Man, you're fast.” she was trying to catch her breathe. Makinde was a really fast sprinte

Ify looked at the mirror in front of her. Damn! Her face looked so disfigured now. She was freaking bleeding and had this monstrous bandage covering her face. She just felt this fury in her veins staring at a reflection she couldn't understand anymore. She knew, she used to be beautiful. She just knew that but the beauty was gone now. It was all gone and all she had was a face that resembled that of cyborg.She remembered her partner the "mountain." The mountain was one hell of a good buddy. He knew how to make her smile and he always called her chump; a word that got her happy instead of angry at the derogatory response. But it was the way mountain said it that mattered more. He was one hell of a partner. Infact, the best partner in the LPF. She couldn't believe he had been killed just because they had underestimated their enemy. They had underestimated the smucking girl and she just took them by surprise.She blacked out again. What the hell

Makinde felt the hot sweat pouring through his skin. Damn! When did things get to change so much? When did his life turn into all this wild race for survival?He always thought, he was the smartest one in the room. How could he have been so callous and stupid?He had let his emotions and sentiments cloud his thoughts and actions. He smiled at how stupid he had been to walk up to the LPF station. It had seemed like such a good idea at that time.Makinde had seen his best friend from college murdered right before his eyes. He had seen Tuesday lose all faith and belief. He had watched the cop pull out his pistol in the dark room and blast his godamn skull. He had seen his body drop to the floor with the blood oozing out from his cold corpse.He bit his finger. He bit those mother smucking fingers more out of fear than mere curiosity. He remembered the long ride on his toyota camry to the police station. Surely, he would get someone to trust. Someone, he coul

"Damn it, these mother smuckers have absolutely no idea when to mind their own damn business".Clement let out a smile to throw the journalist who was interviewing him off his dark thoughts. They just didn't get it. Certain rules just have to be implemented to restore order and if these actions are not exercised, the resultant effects would be mob attacks and maybe... even maybe a civil war. This was the only way to stop this collosal damage. Hell, he was doing this whole country a favour by trying to melt these riots. And so far, it had been so good.Maybe when he got up there, things could change for good. For now, order had to be maintained at all cost and the truth could create more chaos when revealed."Sir," the beautiful, elegant female journalist interrupted his thoughts. He hated people who looked as elegant as she did... maybe not hate but sort of a feeling that clustered on his mind and it felt apathetic or just filled with despite.Sh