MightyFortress:
Centino!!! I hail u, Oga Sir. If anything carry you come my part of the country, just halla me. 2 bottles of your favourite await you! U three much!

Abeg which part of the country you dey

princessConfy:
Centino you are toooooo good.

I never saw that part of the old man coming. I was so scared...
Abeg let's do it again on sunday

Okay my dear we go see on Sunday as you talk

CaptnSelfless:
I finally made it....Wowww!!!At last... I got there.....
Thumbs Up,Mr Centino
More ink to ur Pen

Nice to have you man!

sustainee:
am addicted to dis story oqa centino so fascinating bro more ink 2 ur pen nd greater hiqht I pray thee........waiting badly 4 u 2 unveil d Green bird

Amen my brother!

ladidacanon:
centi baba na u try pass.Bt try dey less all dis ya political talk abeg e don dey too much and d tin com dey mk d main plot com dey short...ya story sweet pass anything...thumbs up

Political talk

Ansasan:
now this is one hell of a story.
got glued to it since Monday.
thank you centino for making every update a hit back to back.
God bless you and your hustle.

Thanks dear and welcome to our street

Section1000:
Nobody dey fvcking hear of Ndifereke again. E Get as this story dey go.
ANYBODY WEY QUOTE ME TALK RUBBISH EEH, NAH BOMB DEY UR HEAD

Bros your blood too dey hot. I tell you say de tori don finish?

PwettyGifty:
wow finally am here Centino
It's not even up to 5mins I joined NLF buh I just wanna say thank you for your stories tho it's not enough. I am a ghost reader ryt 4rm fb buh because of dis story I joined Nairaland nd I know I wunt regret coming

Noticed you just signed up dear. Nice to have you here. No damn way you're gonna regret this

princessConfy:
Hello Centino

Hello dearie

Napoleonsammy:
Finally, I don catch up. So this story never finish. Since 2017.
Mr Centino, you're really good. This story kept me glued to my phone for over 4 days. It just gets interesting after every update. Irikefe. He is just like the life of the story. Bro keep up the good work you're doing. I like writers like you and souloho that teach something in ur stories. Now I'm going to be involved in the suspense. God bless ur work bro. Keep it coming.

Nice to have you here man. E never finish since 2017. E no go finish by 2027.

Bluemoon2409:
Finally, I made it
171
Beautiful one bro

Nice to have you Bluemoon2409

EkopSparoAyara where art thou?

Hope you're okay bro.

Centino:
EkopSparoAyara where art thou?
Hope you're okay bro.

centino bawo no

Centino:

Okay my dear we go see on Sunday as you talk

lol... that's not fair I corrected it nah... pls my good people of katakata street don't hold me responsible oooo. Centino is trying to shift goalpost

Baba centino I hail oh..
You too much..
Thanks for always making me happy on Sunday's.... ......... No more ghost mode for me.......

Green Hawk

Centino:


Bros your blood too dey hot. I tell you say de tori don finish?

Oga Centino. I Hail O ! ! na lack of update make ur boys dey volt na. now wey u don clear me , evrywhere gud . "Twale"

Centino u r the best, am in luv with this story and i can't wait for next update
More ink to ur pen.

The victory of Man Utd is the greatest comeback in the history of champions league...
No team has ever qualified after losing at home with 2 or more goals difference... All those ones you were saying, na for away den dey beat dem no be for home...
Anyways, Oga Centi, ur boy dey loyal ooo...

damynj:
The victory of Man Utd is the greatest comeback in the history of champions league...
No team has ever qualified after losing at home with 2 or more goals difference... All those ones you were saying, na for away den dey beat dem no be for home...
Anyways, Oga Centi, ur boy dey loyal ooo...

Gbayi Jor.
You be correct man.
Dem just no wan aacknowledge Man Utd victory and the record they set.

dis torry just dey sweet me like say I dey lick sugar

Thank God it is Sunday. I can't wait for today's update.

I was actually thinking yesterday was sunday, not until this morning.
In my mind i was like '' this guy finally dissapointed in a sunday update ''.
We are still waiting since there is hope of an update today. All hope is not lost afterall.

Hold on a sec' What i'm i doing here? I should be in church, not here...this thread can't be my religion o, abeg! See wetin CENTINO don cause abi?

running to book space like

All hail the greatest storyteller on NL.
Everything that makes a story compelling checks out in this story, and the readers can’t get enough.

Centino, your creativity is incredible ��
May your inspiration never run dry, and may your efforts yield great reward.

I’m with you all the way to the end of this wonderful story.

Meanwhile, I came across an image that perfectly fits the description of Mama Akunna, so we can at least put a face to the character.

PS: it’s just a suggestion ooo

How would you feel, if someone post your mother's pictures and say it fit's mama Akunna character?

PS: It's just a question ooo

Freemasonry:
All hail the greatest storyteller on NL.
Everything that makes a story compelling checks out in this story, and the readers can’t get enough.

Centino, your creativity is incredible ��
May your inspiration never run dry, and may your efforts yield great reward.

I’m with you all the way to the end of this wonderful story.

Meanwhile, I came across an image that perfectly fits the description of Mama Akunna, so we can at least put a face to the character.

PS: it’s just a suggestion ooo

Chommieblaq:


How would you feel, if someone post your mother's pictures and say it fit's mama Akunna character?

PS: It's just a question ooo

@ Freemasonry I agree with Chommieblaq. That woman's relation may even be on this thread. But I take the suggestion. Since you have asked for it, by next week God willing, I will put a face to the main characters for you. That should make things more exciting. Thanks bro.

SEEING THINGS


The hawk spread its wings and owned the air. It glided through the night skies like the king it was – majestic in its presence as it reconnoitered their dark and chaotic dwelling. Actual nocturnal birds saw it and wondered. It was not the typical dark coloured nighthawk. It was the diurnal hawk, green, with twenty times the vision of man, that normally did its business in the day time. This one defied nature. It should struggle to see at that time, but you would not think so by the deftness of its flight. The feel of the night air on its beak and feathers was exquisite. The hawk was enjoying its flight.

But it was not supposed to.

It was a form it had not taken in decades. Indeed, it had not taken any form other than that of a homo sapien in decades. This outing was necessary to achieve an aim. Therefore it needed to rein itself in and return to the vantage position from the neighboring compound from where it should see when the boy attempted his stupidity and then do what it needed to do.

The hawk saw them both approach the shop with their implements of destruction and straightened up.

With their backs turned and Irikefe working the lock of the shop with the crowbar the hawk swooped.

Castro saw the bird first and shrieked and flew over the gutter. Irikefe turned to run too but the hawk, with its powerful talons extended, was on him in an instant and clawed his back from the collarbone down to the waist and then continued its flight into the night sky.

“Yay, yay, yay ooo!” Irikefe cried and fell forward.

Castro was not stopping. “I tell you o! I tell you make we tell the elders.”

Then when he saw that he had left Irikefe far behind and he was not headed anywhere in particular, he stopped to first catch his breath before he ambled back towards his stricken friend.

Irikefe sat on the ground on the side of the road. He squirmed as he felt the elements on what were undoubtedly wounds on his back. Castro reached him and said, “make we dey go back before dem think say we be thief.”

Once within the safety of their compound Irikefe said: “Abeg, shine torch for my back tell me wetin you see.”

It was six gashes running down the length of his back. One made by each claw of the hawk. They were deep, red and bleeding. His tshirt was torn in shreds.

“Na Agbonyibo” Castro said.

“I know.”

“Na dat kind thing you dey use play?”

“We had to stop him.”

“Who don stop who now?”

“Castro my back dey pepper me.”

“The evil man fit put juju inside the hand of the bird use am scratch you. Your back fit rotten and pus go enter and you fit die from there.”

“Shut up” Irikefe aid and began to cry. “It’s very painful. The last place I want to go to is that godforsaken hospital. My papa and Mama Akunna still dey there.”

“But you must be helped. It looks very bad.”

“E dey pain.”

“Why don’t we go to Nurse Josephine. She can help.”

“I should go and knock her door by this time and tell her that I went to break Agbonyibo’s shop and a bird flew from nowhere and came and tore my back?”

“That will not be a lie. The wound is there. You are in pains.”

“I am not going to Josephine. I will go to Nurse Stella down the road. She was the one treating us before Josephine came. How will the compound take another Agbonyibo story? No doubt he was the bird.”

“Guy I see am. Blood of our Saviour.”

Then Irikefe heard his name.

“No be your papa voice I dey hear so?”

“Irikefe!”

“But he has not been discharged yet.”

It was Papa Efe alright. He stood at the mouth of the corridor, arms akimbo. Irikefe cleaned the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand and answered “Papa!”

He tried to walk straight. His father kept his gaze focused on him. There was light that evening so they could see each other clearly.

“Papa when you come back?”

“Night never reach? Oya, inside!” he said and pointed to the corridor.

Irikefe hesitated. If he went in ahead of his father Papa Efe would see his wounds.

The old man turned and went inside first and went straight to bed.

Irikefe did not know what to do. His back was on fire and he could not seek help because he did not want to tell his father what had happened. Tears welled up in his eyes as the pain increased. He stood looking at the door and then at his sleeping position on the floor and then at his faher’s extremely relaxed form on the bed. With no choice left, he said “Papa.”

“Yes.”

“I wound for back.”

Papa Efe climbed out of bed and sat and regarded his son. He was now crying. He was perspiring even more and the sweat entering the wound compounded his agony.

“Make I see.”

He turned and Papa Efe inspected the damage.

“How you take get this wound?”

“Na bird give me,” he said amid sobs.

“How manage?”

“I go do something wey you say make I no do.”

“Wetin you do?”

“I been go break Agbonyibo shop. Mama Akunna say the power of him juju dey there. E say if I scatter am de man power go vanish.”

“Mama Akunna.”

“Yes Papa. As I dey break de door one bird just fly come tear me for back.”

“Hmmm.”

“Papa help me. The pain too much.”

“Wetin I been tell you?”

“You been say make I no do anything.”

“Okay.”

“Allow me to go Nurse Stella house.”

Papa Efe stood up and went to his cupboard and opened a secret compartment and brought out a cellophane bag containing black powder.

“Lie down for ground.”

Irkefe lay on his stomach and his father applied the black powder directly on his wounds. Irikefe howled in agony. He had never felt such pain in his life. If he had not seen the substance he would have thought that his father applied raw pepper to his wounds.

“E dey pain you?”

“Yay o! yay o! Papa o!”

“Tomorrow make you go break the door finish you hear?”

“I no go break am again o! I no go break any door. Papa na de thing you say make I do na im I go dey do o.”

“No worry. Do anything you like.”

“Never again o! Papa o! Yay o!”

Papa Efe, satisfied that he had properly treated the wound put away the medicine, increased the speed of the ceiling fan and made himself comfortable on his bed.



Sister Esther knew that Kingsley had been avoiding her. Because he knew her so well, he knew how to thread for their paths not to cross. But she had a plan.

He waited until he heard her singing worship songs. That was always a prelude to one hour of praying. He only needed ten minutes. So when only twenty minutes after the singing had begun he heard someone shuffling into their cooking space, he knew he had been tricked.

“Oga Mario Tommasello! Yenyenyen No one ever fell in love without being a little brave. How far? How market?”

Mr Kingsley ignored her. He liked to put his pepper and onion and thyme in the whisked egg and fry at once. He had just finished cutting the onions and because he wanted distraction he poured it into the overheated hot oil and it chimed and produced blue smoke in the pan and then settled moments later. Sister Esther stepped aside and laughed.

“Keep your attention focused entirely on what is truly your own concern, and be clear that what belongs to others is their business and none of yours – Epictetus” Mr Kingsley said.

“Epictetus anu nsi!” Sister Esther clapped. “That should have been you. They should have decimated that hypocritical anus for you.”

“A truly strong person does not need the approval of others more than a lion needs the approval of sheep – Vernon Howard”

“You, strong, who told you? Only breast you saw you forgot yourself and even spoke Togo language on top of English we thought you had forgotten how to speak. Ntoii. When you see Achike’s bother buy him a drink because you were next.”

Mr. Kingsley still put the pepper and the thyme in the whisked egg and poured it into the pan after the onions. He flipped the omelet too quickly and killed the stove and carried the pan and made for his room.

“Is that how you now fry your egg? Half done? Where are you running to? Stay and let me tell you what you don’t know.”

“Busy souls have no time for busybodies – Martin O’Malley” Mr. Kingsley said and disappeared through his door.

Sister Esther laughed out loud. That made her feel better, even though when she went back into her room, she took her face in her hands and sat in her bad and cried.



Mama Tobi returned to her room, climbed her bed, and lay supine. Her children were going in and out of the room, all wondering why their mother had suddenly become sober. No one spoke, because it was better to have a quiet Mama Tobi than the one they were used to. As she lay there, she saw a woman in her late fifties in full Victorian costume enter the room, sat down and started knitting wool. Mama Tobi sprang up instantly. As she was about to open her mouth, a man in his forties, wearing a white singlet and a wrapper entered and went straight to where she kept her food and opened her soup pot and peered inside.

“Who are you people? What are you doing here?” Mama Tobi screamed. The intruders were so startled that they too screamed in terror! They were not supposed to be seen! Mama Tobi jumped down from the bed and ran out of the room shouting, “Come o! There are people in my room. I don’t know who they are!”

Tobi and Clementina entered the room and came out.

“There is no one there Mama,” Tobi said.

“A woman. A woman and a man!”

“No one is there.”

As she spoke, she saw a young man with bloodied head walking towards them as casually as one on an evening stroll. “Who are you!” Mama Tobi barked at him. He too was so surprised at being seen that he ran into their room in confusion.

“Another one has entered. Another one has entered.”

Clementina held her mother and began to cry. “No one is here Mama. What are you saying? What is happening to you Mama?”

“I think Mama has gone mad,” Tobi said.

“Go and call Sister Maya. I saw her with Bro Ndifreke downstairs a while ago.”

Tobi ran downstairs to go and fetch Maya.

Mama Tobi continued to cry that there were people in her room. Then she turned and saw Maya, with the old palm wine taper balanced on her hip coming in her direction.

Mama Tobi shouted “drop him! drop him!”

“Drop who mama?”

“Drop that man!”

“Mama what are you saying? It is Little Dozie, your small husband.”

Dozie glared at Mama Tobi and she remembered his threat and pressed her lips together. She sat on the floor panting like a bulldog.

“What happened to her?” Maya asked Clementina.

“I don’t know. She ran out of the room saying there were a man and a woman inside. While we were here she shouted that another person had entered the room.

Maya dropped Dozie to his feet and went to her mother.

“What is wrong, mama? What is happening to you?”

Mama Tobi looked up and saw the palm wine tapper looking at her. "Oh Lord. Nothing. Nothing o! nothing is happening to me.”

“Alright. Get inside and rest. You need to rest.”

“I am not going in there. I will not go in there until I am sure that they have left.”

“Who are you talking about Mama?” Maya said and entered the room. she came out almost immediately and said there is no one there. Maya went back to her mum and said “Mama. I know you have been hurt because of the money. But it is only money mama. I earned that one, and I will earn some more. Please forget it and be yourself again. I will give you fifty thousand naira to put in your business tomorrow. But please mama, stop this thing you are doing. You are scaring me.”

Just then, the woman in the Victorian dress came out of the room and ran towards the balcony and faded into the morning sun.

“There she is. She jumped. She jumped the balcony.”

Maya ran downstairs to go and look for Ndifreke. He had just come out of the bathroom and was applying cream to his body.

“Ndi. There is a problem.”

“What problem my love.”

“My mother. She is seeing things.”

“Your mother again?”

It was not what he said as much as the way he said it that mortified Maya. She knew he did not like her mother, but she did not imagine that the dislike was as deep-seated as she could see now, so much that he did not even break rhythm with was he was doing. Maya could have told him that Atiku was headed for the election tribunal and he could have reacted in the same manner.

“Ndi, I tell you that my mother is showing signs of sudden mental illness and this is your reaction?”

“Your mother is full of drama Maya.”

“She is my mother! You cannot judge her!”

“I know she is your mother and I am not judging her.”

“No, you don’t! My mother’s problem is my problem. If you love me, you will not even think about it. You will move the moment you see that I am like this!”

“Maya we are talking about your mother here and not you.”

“If it concerns my mother it concerns me. You are finally showing your true colours Ndi. They told me it was going to be like this when you start making money.”

“What are you talking about Maya?”

“This is the second time you have shown me the real you. When I was pregnant and helpless you abandoned me because my mother told you to act like a responsible man, and today again. You only love me when things are nice and smooth. The moment there is a problem I become a plague. You are behaving exactly how they told me you will behave.”

“For heaven’s sake Maya what are you saying?”

“I am saying you should stay the hell out of my life. I know who I will call and my mother will get the care and attention she deserves!”

Maya opened the door and stormed out.

Ndifreke ran after her wearing only a pair of boxers.



The three canaries perched on the roof of the shops before the men gathered. The king canary assured them that it would be safe. They were not nocturnal birds, and so no one would raise an eyebrow that three innocuous singing birds were there at that time of the day.

“The governorship election results are coming in already. The speed with which the Lagos results came in, despite being such a large state, you will be tempted to believe that the bullion vans the other day contained already processed ballot papers and result sheets.”

“You have come again Josiah. You better say what you know.”

“No check it now!”

“It could be because fewer people than ever went out to vote this time. We have not seen this level of voter apathy ever in our democracy. It is a loud vote of no confidence in the present INEC. This has been the worst INEC since that of Maurice Iwuruwuru.”

“The INEC chairman should be ashamed of himself. History will not be kind to him.H e has aided the biggest sham of an election ever.”

“Despite the voter apathy we still recorded deaths. For me, until elections become electronic, I will never step out to vote again. If we can sit in our homes and vote for Big Brother and Project Fame and the like, surely there has to be a way that they can translate this into political electioneering.”

“Even that can still be manipulated. There is nothing man-made that is perfect.”

“Then they should perfect it. They should go and find out how Estonia, Brazil, Belgium, The Netherland, Canada do it. No matter the flaws in the system, it will not allow any persons to come in contact with ballot boxes and get shot. Lives will be saved, billions of money in printed materials will be saved. For those two factors alone, I will accept whatever flaw it has. But to go out and risk my life for a system that offers me nothing, never again.”

"Are you seeing the mayhem in Rivers? Soldiers have taken over the collation centers as we speak and are shooting sporadically. Last night, a group of courageous women prevented soldiers from breaking into their council secretariat to steal election materials. What manner of democracy is this?"

"There is no APC contestant in the state so Wike is contesting against soldiers, thugs and INEC. That is one state the enemies of democracy want to take by all means."

"Are politicians really so desperate?"

"Look for and listen to the leaked tape of the APC candidate in Akwa Ibom state in negotiation with thugs to cause disruption and unleash mayhem. then you will understand what we common people are up against."

"Didn't a court in Rivers order the arrest of that man?"

"He is still free and hoping to be governor tomorrow morning."

“Okay gentlemen. It is just unfortunate that it is election season but the most important thing to talk about now is this compound and Agbonyibo. What are we doing about him?”

“Simple. Throw his things out.”

“You will fall foul of the law.”

“He already fell foul of the law by defiling a man. He will go to jail for rape. And then serve another fourteen years for homosexual activity. How does any of you think that that man will come back?”

“His wife and daughter ran away last night.”

“What did you expect?”

“But we can’t leave his things here. Alhaji Sirika is not even cooperating.”

“We will go to the police, and involve the councilor. I say we throw his things out, better yet, take them to the councilors compound. If he ever shows up, let him go there.”

“Who else thinks like that?”

“The correct thing is to go to the police and report his crimes. We cannot touch his things because as far as I know, he does not owe any rent. Even if he does, that is the prerogative of the landlord. So we report him for his crimes and let the law take its course.”

“He has been here for like six months. So his room and shop will stay locked for another six months at least.”

“As I said, that is not our concern. Our concern is that he faces the consequences of his actions. Even though I doubt that we will see him again.”



The king canary turned to the others and said “You hear them? This compound has not known terror as will befall them from now on.” As it said that, the small canary scratched the roof and hopped into the sky and did not look back.

“What is wrong with your daughter?”

“I don’t know my king. She has not been the same since after Achike.”

“I will take care of her. We leave now, but I do not want to make them feel any easy.”

And so that night, while the compound slept, the canary returned and put a grave inscription in front of the shop.



There was mortal dread in the compound in the morning when they awoke and saw what was written in front of Agbonyibo’s shop in blood.



TO BE CONTINUED.

Chommieblaq:


How would you feel, if someone post your mother's pictures and say it fit's mama Akunna character?

PS: It's just a question ooo

Lolz.... Mama Akunna is not such a terrible character dearie. We all saw how she got into witchcraft out of desperation to keep her son in the first place, that in itself is admirable.

Anyways, if it’ll make your Sunday more pleasant, I can pull it down.

By the way, if my mom had such a striking resemblance to the mental image of Mama Akunna, I won’t mind if someone posted her pictures. I’ll just have a good laugh.

Thank you Centino for a beautiful update...but as we be Oliver Twist, e no belleful us.
Can’t wait for Wednesday, hopefully you’ll come through.

It's always never enough . Good one as always bro ..... More wisdom

Centino Again? Blood Used To Write On Door This Becoming A horror Movie But Centino I Want To Know The Last Book You Read