Enaku Emmanuel
I'm a creator. I love all that's related to art be it written or painted/drawn form. I love to reach deep into people with my writings and my art creations.
Member Since: 4 months ago
Don't forget to read Gathering in vain.
chapter 4: The informant. I sprang to my feet then, going into action with ineffable speed. I reached for the knife, put on my amulet, and jumped outside, very ready to unleash terror on anyone who could be after my best friend, Njoku. But Njoku was the only one outside when I scanned the area. His eyes were frantic and his face still held shock. "Njoku", I said slowly, "what is the matter? Did you meet with your stepfather's ghost?" Njoku's stepfather was Nkunku. He was built like a bull an...
Are you following this story? don't miss out. it's also my entry for the competition on African stories.
Gathering in vain. Chapter 1: When love happens. It was evening and the moon was full. A still windless night that seemed to intensify the sounds of the forest insects in the bushes around the compound. I stood up from the reclining wooden chair under the pear tree where I had sat down to enjoy the evening breeze and savour the residues of the properly prepared melon soup that I could still taste in my mouth. I stood for a while and swayed from side to side, loving every bit of how hefty an...
Read this story for the Nircle African stories competition.
GATHERING IN VAIN CHAPTER FOUR: Frantic and angry. At the mention of Mbana, my blood began to boil. It was the most terrible thing anyone could do putting "taken" and "Mbana" in the same sentence. I advanced towards Njoku who began to retreat. "Li_ listen, they are taking her to another village. If we run now, we_we could catch u_p with them. They have loads and are moving slowly with some oil lamps". Njoku stuttered frightfully. "Where?" I hissed venomously. I was totally out of control....
My past life
The full moon blazed down on us at its highest intensity as we strode through the forest, our feet making occasional rustling sounds when they crushed down on dried leaves, seeds and twigs, accentuating the thudding sounds of hard soles — that carried weary bodies — matching down on the dry, craggy and coarse track of the evil forest. As we sauntered on, manoeuvring our way through thick forest bushes, each of us had a hand fastened on the handle of a sheathed sword tied to the wa...
