Group D: Day 4 Duel 2
So far, the contestants have been bringing the game to the rings. Today, we are taking it all out to the streets.
Yesterday’s scoresheet is IN.
(ADENIYI MERCY & AZUBOGU OGOCHUKWU ) won Duel 1
Bring it ON!!!
Fighting in the rings is VICKY BON UZUAZOR against MAZI CHIKELU CHINO on: A 400-word story on LOVE HURTS
The RULES are easy
* Ensure to READ both stories
*Vote the one you think best interprets the theme.
Story 1 or 2.
* No cajoling for votes. DO NOT influence public opinion.
* Feel free to LIKE, SHARE & TAG
The Rain of April Eight
As He was the boy who stood by the stands while the boys played football, smiling and leaping for joy when his classmate scored a goal. But I was a girl who knew him differently. To me, he was the gangly boy who held so much pain in his gentle smiles, and the one who could groan with his cheeks puffed and his eyes as gleeful as the bioluminescence of fireflies.
He was Alu. The boy who sat by my side through those tiring hours of academic labour. Him, aloof, waiting only for punchlines that will spread a quiver of reckless laughing—the hilarity of which he had courted and delivered with precision. Then he would recline and savour that moment when we would all laugh and spill our notebooks because Alu had the power to make someone giggle in a funeral. Even though Alu made us laugh together, he was a boy who cried alone.
I knew this because I was there. On a chilly first day of April. The rains had poured the night before, and then the whole school was on the brink of a Math exam. It was as if that morning was mourning—dark and wet. I was sitting on one of the slabs adjacent to the lawn tennis court, humming and hawing; trying so hard to make sense out of trigonometry, then I saw him. Alu. He was dragging himself, something in between limping and the caution of traversing a field full of broken bottles. It was the wrong place. No business would take a student to a room full of cement bags, nails and other scraps of building work. I followed him.
There was Alu sprawled on the floor. His writhing mass was covered in white dust and his deep moans hovered above the hollow space, rippling like echoes from something or somewhere unknown. I knelt beside him and clutched him, and while he cried in pain; the rhythm of his trembling body heaved me up and down like the motions of iambic poetry. That night I read about crises and sickle cell anemia, till the school lights went off, and till my eyes got swollen from reading words that said dreadful things about Alu.
On the eighth of April, two days after I had kissed Alu on the hallway that separated the kitchen from the girls’ hostel, and a day after I told him that I loved him, inside the Chemistry lab, my eyes starry and my heart beating… On that day the cloud was dewy-eyed and the rain poured endlessly. The principal gathered us with the school bell and announced to us that Alu tried his best but God knows the best.