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The Smoke Writer: A tale of vengeance and shape-shifting.

Obi, the smoke writer ventured the City of Porta to redefine the art of storytelling, instead he rediscovered his true identity.

The Smoke Writer is a story about having a dream, working hard for it, and hoping that luck come your way. The idea that we can reach any height is reinforced in a society that encourages us to dream and aspire for greatness. All we need to do is ask, and we shall be given. Strengthened by those assurances, Obi wakes everyday eager to claim his rightful status as a wordsmith.

Why can’t he? After all, he is a legitimate descendant of Uche; a legendary storyteller from Ntu village, immortalized in the minds of the people for his magnetizing storytelling ability. Uche’s protege once enchanted the king with a story, and the king froze in awe for five minutes after the story have ended. Even in war times, the Uches were indispensable. Not only did they fought alongside their comrades, they also motivated their fellow warriors with victorious tales of their predecessors.

Conceived in the age of Windows and Macintosh, Obi took upon himself the burden to keep Uche’s legendary alive. Convinced that whoever endeavored to be a storyteller will have to write it, Obi maintained that, tales by the moonlight was for a time long gone, he

A lit lamp covered with a basket is of no use, unless it is place on a stand where people can benefit from its light. Obi needed to get his stories out. To this end he set his eyes on the shining City of Porta. Certainly stars are born in the villages, but it is in Porta that they are illuminated, or forever dimmed. Every author whose work saw the light of the day, went through Porta. For Obi to succeed as a wordsmith, he will have to pass through Porta.

Self-rediscovery in Porta

Crashing his way into the Porta was one thing, but getting a publisher to listen was a different issue. He was on the verge of giving up when he met Ken, a man not limited to conventional publishing rules. Obi then told him one of the saddest stories ever; the misadventure of Raj. The vengeance seeking Raj had arrived the heart of darkness, bent on conniving with the devil to destroy his magician opponent. Consumed with bitterness, Raj made a fatal mistake that got his transformed into a tree.

However, it was with the story of Oji the shape-shifter, which eventually got him a publishing deal. Not only was Oji a shape-shifter, he was also a lover, and he punished severely anyone who dared to make advances to his beloved.

As fate had it, the very tradition of oral storytelling he wanted to change, became his key to fulfillment.

The full story is available on Amazon. Click the image.

 

 

Unfinished

The Inevitable dilemma of relationships

The dilemma of listening to people’s complaint is that; you are either obliged to assist or in the least share their predicament (somehow).

An acquaintance told me he doesn’t visit bars anymore. Why? A drinking-mate formed the habit of complaining to him about his wife. At first, he wasn’t sure if it was the influence of shots flying back and forth? A chemical reaction of sound and liquid can sure cause some hallucination. Such reaction could be behind the bitter man’s lamentation.

He decided to avoid the bar. A library he concluded; would give him the serenity he sought. He was mistaken. A woman found the map to his study table. Perhaps it was his social disposition that attracted people to him. Nevertheless, the woman wanted to talk. He had assumed that far end of the library was the deep end of quietness, apparently for this woman; it was a less strict corner where hush gossip was possible.

Okay, “let’s talk”, he said. “You were saying something”? He asked, hoping for a brief “forget about it” reply. Again he was mistaken. She went into this tirade about her husband; she had helped him become what he is, she picked him from the devil’s jaw, and personally flew him to heaven. She was his: mother, sister, brother, and uncle. Including grandmother.

Okay, “I now know why I am not a renowned writer”, he thought aloud; “I have been wasting my time with the wrong hobby”, insisted my bewildered acquaintance. His true calling was to be a Councillor or rather a listener! A spouse complaint listener – to be precise. There was urgent need to create that title if it was inexistent?

Momentarily he was carried away, he fantasized about his new establishment. Nothing is more exciting than the prospect of great career change – but then it hit him; “my wife!” What was she saying about him? What are her accusations? What was he being persecuted for? If everybody else complained about their partner, why would he be an exception? He was asking me how to approach his wife. He wanted it from the horse’s mouth.

My humble opinion was; talk to your wife if you really want to, but sometimes, sincere conversations are better left alone.

Sincere

Another form of Eerie

Halloween increases in popularity every year. This year, one million more people are expected to celebrate it. As the tradition increases in popularity, so does the languages associated with it. Horror-filled words like, Eerie, haunted, bludgeon, gushed and even mansion (usually desirable), all turns frightening.

As the month of October ends with its abnormal festivities, a different kind of horrors begins; the countdown to the New Year.

The assertion that any event that heralds a new year, not to mention the Christmas before that, should be viewed with scepticism; is ridiculous outright. On the other, if such suggestion is considered on specific situational basis; it starts to add up. For example; what if you have started the year with a certain ambitious resolution? What if you made huge commitment to a partner, or your business? What if your career was in line?

A friend called me three nights ago. At first I thought he was intoxicated. What are the weekends for right? Awkwardly though, brother was sober. Just that sometimes anxiousness can present a sane person as “deranged”. All these months, he has procrastinated executing important tasks. Certainly human mind can be tricky. In complacency, his mind got beclouded by the notion that the sun does set – only as an assurance for tomorrow. He assumed that the uninterrupted cycle of the sun and moon have gotten time frozen in place.

His rude awakening came on the last day of October. As he drank his last in celebration of Halloween (which he knows nothing about anyway), he remembered something; he had bought a franchise, which its permanent extension depended on an agreed number of sales. If! Only he had done a bit of marketing as planned. If only he had created that website, consulted that dealer, designed those packages, his goal could have been achieved with ease. Unfortunately he relied on “tomorrow”.

In this agitated state of his, I was incapable of making any suggestion. Not to add salt to an injury, his articulation needed some straightening before anyone can help. To be clear, yoga is not my specialty. I know however, that taking a deep breath helps with the nerves and blood circulation. It was after some rounds of deep breathing and stretching, that we began to brain storm. The solution was that he will have to put Christmas in focus. Demands are generally high at this time. His target is still attainable, of course not without an efficient strategy and hard work.

Now that everything is calm and on track, I reminiscence and wonder about the Irony; that the tomorrow a man waited for so long, finally was on the horizon; but rather than bring him harvest – it filled him with eerie nightmare.

 

Eerie

That passion will always be waiting

Nine long years! This is unbelievable! It is just amazing. After nine years I have come full circle to what was once and will always be my true avocation; writing!

Imagine this:

Recently I started to consider blogging. Just to be clear, there was no angelic visitation; it wasn’t a sudden flash of light or any supernatural occurrence like that either. In my opinion; university degree is not a prerequisite if you want to write (it will help, don’t get me wrong). You don’t have to be that genius whose massive head is constantly erupting with content and ideas, in order to feel like writing. On the contrary, it is possible to be an ordinary Joe or Stan and still have strong urge to write something.

I know WordPress is the place where bloggers meet, so it was the first blogging website I wanted to check out today. What started out as a routine registration turned out to be a big surprise? For some reason my registration was not conducting smoothly — “the email was already in use”. What? “Wait a minute”, by who? Was it possible for two people to have same email addresses? In seconds those questions race through my alarmed senses. Seriously how was I to recall that I have opened an account with this awesome site nine years ago?

With no time to waste further, I went into recovery mode. My next paramount task was to remember my old passwords. Fortunately one of the passwords worked, and once again I was able to see my page, the first words that caught my attention was the first, and my only post; “Hello World”. Filled with a floating nostalgia I exclaimed, “wow!” then I patted my 8 months computer gently (as though it was responsible for keeping this future alive).

Well that’s it, the story ends here. Nevertheless I continue to ponder the possibility – that a passion for an art once developed, never dies? Certainly only genuine interest in writing will take a person full circle and back to a topic that began nine years earlier.

By now my once lost memories were starting to drip back; so now I remember it was my first year in college, that I started this blog with the hope of filling it with articles. Since then nine years have passed just like that, and with it the stories I wanted to tell at the time. Folks I can’t be blamed right? After all between writing academic/research papers, stressing to graduate from college, and setting up a life after college; you too would probably forget about some “insignificant” webpage.

For your take away – it doesn’t matter how you bumped into this article today, but I can imagine that you are enjoying your love of reading and writing, no? Okay! Maybe not at this very moment alright? Still I dare to point to a hobby within your soul, an interest that is not currently at the center of your focus, just waiting for the right moment. Always be on the lookout because one day it will emerge. For some reason we humans always have things work out for us in a way that we supposed unlikely, that hobby you grew up thinking about and developing emotions for will one day surprise you, it will always be waiting.

Waiting