DoMH,

Glad to hear you publish Christian books. I have a manuscript waiting to be published.

It's an educational storybook about a secondary school boy who, amidst a broken family background, tried to blend into the Nigerian corrupt society through exam-malpractice, politics and the likes, in the search for success. The end is about whether he got the success or not.

The book is educative, revealling to the reader the options available for a young boy to survive in this present-day society and the repercussion of ones choice.

It took me years to put it together and I believe it would sell in Secondary schools.

If you're interested in the publishing, reach me at jus-tok@hotmail.com

I love

"Weep not child" by Ngugi wa Thiongo

Also,

"The Concubine" by Elechi Amadi

Angela scrambled to her feet as the door creaked open. She must have fallen asleep while waiting for Henry's return.
"Welcome, darling." Angela said, rubbing sleep off her eyes.
Henry removed his jacket and threw it on the old sofa in the room. "It's a bad day. The interview didn't favour me, "
"Not a bad day at all." Angela interrupted.
Surprised at her words, Henry stared at her.
"Have a look at this letter." Angela picked the letter from the table and handed it to Henry.
"What's it all about?" Henry asked.
"Open and read it."
Carefully, Henry opened the envelope. He wondered what Angela's excitement about the letter was all about.

Back in the house, Angela waved the letter in the air as she jumped up in joy.
"Oh God! Your good. Just when we needed your help."
She rushed into their one-room apartment, made a beeline to her handbag by the side of the table and searched for her phone. She needed to break the news of the job offer to Henry at once. May be, Henry would rather forget about the job he was pursuing in Victoria Island.
She dialled Henry's number quickly only to be alerted that she had not enough credit to make the call. Angella had totally forgotten - it was more than two months since she loaded her phone last. Refusing to brood over the difficulties of the last months, she looked for the Appointment Letter from Kayode, Abdul & Martins Chambers offering Henry job in their law firm.
Looking left and right of the room without a trace of the letter, Angela suddenly became afraid. She was sure she dropped it somewhere when she was searching for her phone in the handbag. She wondered if she was dreaming.
"How can this letter vanish into thin air like that?" She mumbled, pinching herself. The pain on her wrist assured her she wasn't dreaming.
There it was! The blanket on the bed had covered the good-news-letter.
Angela's thought raced back to the unborn baby in her womb. She gave out a wry smile. With this new job for Henry, she was sure the expenses of taking care a new-born baby would be met. While she opened the envelope once more, she remembered the accusation from Henry - the unborn baby belonging to another man. Assured by her conscience, she quickly threw the thought behind her. A thorough look at the name on the envelope, her world went pitch dark. The appointment letter was directed to Henry Awo and not Henry Akpan.
Confused, Angela couldn't believe this mix-up. Apart from the issue with the name, the house address was theirs. Besides, she could remember sometime about eight months ago when Henry went for an interview in one law firm. Though, she couldn't remember the exact name of the law firm but it sounded like the one on the letter.
"The devil is a liar!" She kept muttering while she sat on the bed thinking.
She was convinced that the job was for her beloved and it was a mere mistake of surname. However, she had to wait for Henry to come back to prove it. Henry's return would be a matter of minutes or hours, but it looked like ages for Angela. She wished he was at the door at that moment. Unknowingly, she found herself cursing NTM for telling her she had no credit in her phone. Soon she started cursing her bag for not containing twenty naira she would have used to make call from a nearby phone booth.

"Oh! It's nothing." Henry muttered, squuezing out a smile. "It's just this bus. I keep wondering when I would graduate from entering a bus like this."
   Twi wasn't fooled at all. He was sure something more than the discomfort of the jallopy molue was disturbing the youngman beside him. He scratched his head and thought for a while. All Twi needed at the moment was an idea to compel the youngman open up.
   Peering out of the window of the moving bus, Henry wondered how he managed to talk aloud in his thought. He held himself, wishing that the man beside would not bother him again. And if he ever did, Henry vowed he would shout at him. He suddenly turned angry. The stranger had no right to peer into his private life. Besides, they were in Lagos.
   "No man cared a damn about his neighbour in this bloody city" Henry murmured.
   A touch on his sleeve, Henry squeezed left and faced the man in fury. He opened his mouth to let out his pent up anger, but his lips hanged in the air. A sweet smile was on the man's face. On his right hand was a paper held out for Henry to take.
   Calming down himself, Henry stared coldly at the unusual good Nigerian. His stare moved from Twi's neat white shirt with tie to the Bible he clutched to his side in his left hand.
   "Read this." Twi told Henry, a smile still on his face.
   Reluctantly, he collected the tract from Twi. A glance at the caption, "Only one life", Henry resisted the urge to throw the tract out of the window. He knew that Pastor Good Nigerian must be watching. He let the tract drop into his breast pocket, hoping to dispose it when he got out of the bus.
   "Whose life?" Henry found himself wondering about the caption of the tract. "Is it the life of the unborn baby or my shattered life?"
    All of a sudden, the molue screeched to a sudden halt. Henry gripped the frame of the seat infront as the passengers were lurched forward. He held his chest with his right hand, trying to calm down the beating. Passengers sticked their heads out of the window, cursing the driver of the disappearing yellow Volkswagen bus that had bumped into the road unannounced.
   Recovering from the shock, Henry stole a glance at Pastor Good Nigerian. Twi returned the glance with a smile. Henry changed his mind and agreed within himself to keep the tract in his breastpocket safe, to read it when he got home.