The meeting didn’t start until about 1 o’clock in the afternoon. It was a good thing it held in Ebiakpo’s house and that I arrived there quite early because it gave me a chance to play with Anda while waiting for her in-laws to show up. My sister also made starch and banga soup with dry fish, prawns and periwinkle so I had the opportunity of filling up as well. I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel…
![[SHORT STORY] The Fatal Accident By Rex Dogood](http://michaelafenfia.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2018/12/pexels-photo-1161268.jpeg)
It was a pleasant Saturday morning characterised by the usual harmattan chill and mist in the ever busy and noisy Agofuri Park in Warri. Despite the chaos, her ringtone stood out. "Hello, Phebe. How are you?" she spoke into the receiver of her phone with a smile "Aunt Laye, there is a problem," came the tensed voice from the other end of the line "What again?" Laye asked "Uncle had a terrible accident. His car got crashed into a truck…
Blessing didn’t show up last night. She didn’t pick or return my calls either, even though I must have tried her number more than ten times between 8 pm and midnight when I finally gave up trying. Whenever she gave me the silent treatment, it was either because she was mad about something I had done that day or I didn’t give her money she asked for. A number of times, it was because she suspected some hanky-panky with some…
“Reverend, I am not accusing you of anything. I’m only saying that the hospital says my sister’s husband died from something he ate or drank.” “And that something he ate or drank came from me?” Reverend Ebizimor didn’t look up at me as he spoke. He appeared distracted by something he was looking for on his dishevelled table, and it didn’t help that his three phones kept ringing at the same time, interrupting his search. I didn’t need to look…
Hearing Ebiakpo go on and on about how Benson was such a good man—and how much he loved her and Anda—and how he did this and did that for her and their only child made me very uncomfortable. Clearly, she had no idea that in a very public and lavish traditional marriage ceremony conducted in Port Harcourt three weeks before his death, her beloved husband had taken the hands of another woman—a much younger one at that—in marriage. I knew…
“Ebinimi, you’ve not been picking my calls. I’ve been trying to reach you for over an hour now.” “Sorry, Benson. I left my phone charging in the room. There’s no way I wouldn’t have returned your calls if I had seen them,” I said as we walked together towards the main house. “Can we go somewhere a bit more private?” Benson said, looking around the living room as if he expected to see someone eavesdropping behind the curtains. I led…