Short stories and poems by young creative African men and women.

1. raindrops
african short stories and poems
Sylvia O. Agamah

2. in loving memory of my father
Late Hon. Philip Audu Agamah
who inspired my literary skills

3. raindrops
SylviaO.Agamah
Copyright © 2016
All rights reserved. Written permission must be secured
from the author / publisher to use or reproduce any part of this book.
african short stories and poems

4. Contents
Inikpi, Father’s Love Child ................................... 1
Dilemma ................................................................ 2
Anansi, The Spider ................................................ 3
Old Age ................................................................. 4
Tortoise And Nothing ............................................ 5
Rustic Nostalgia .................................................... 6
Quietly Brilliant ..................................................... 7
Ama, The Butterfly Keeper .................................... 8
Virgo Afrikan .......................................................... 9
Mr. Anus ................................................................. 10
Rainbow Wings ...................................................... 11
Sun So Blue ............................................................ 12
Plate Chain Child .................................................... 13
The Wise Beggar ..................................................... 14

5. Once upon a time, in the kingdom of Igala land, there
lived a king. His people loved him very much because he
was a good king. One day, strong enemies from distant
lands threatened his reign with war. The strong enemies
had conquered several foreign villages. Now the Igala
king consulted his traditional priest to know if he will win
the war. The traditional priest told him that he will win
the war if he agrees to sacrifice his only child to the gods.
The shocked and sad king couldn’t sleep or eat for three
days. One afternoon, he called his daughter, “Inikpi!”. She
ran to him and bowed before him in response. He told her
he didn’t call her. She went back inside. He called her
again. When she ran to him, he told her he didn’t call her.
The third time he called her, Inikpi ran to him and said,
“Father, please tell me what the matter is.” The king told
her that she must be sacrificed to win the war. Inikpi
agreed to be sacrificed for the sake of her people. The
king won the war against the strong enemies
and Igala people lived peacefully for a very
long time.
inikpi, father’s love child
1

6. dilemma
Walking by the riverside,
Imagining dark eyes,
Tiny fish in fresh water,
Crocodiles struggling to feed,
Hippos in the deep,
Waiting for the night to come,
Young maiden suddenly appeared,
In her flying dress,
Balancing a water jar - and singing,
I tried to stop her just to say “Hello,”
The water jar dropped, water flooded the green grass,
Forcefully uprooting and clearing weed back to river,
Young maiden’s voice rang: “Father! Father!
He has raped me!!”
I saw gigantic hands hold me by the throat,
A man in uniform,
Manacled my hands,
Three years later,
The man with gigantic hands died,
He left a letter,
Urging me to promise him a grandchild.
~ Emmanuel Monychol
2

7. anansi, the spider
In the olden days, all the folktales which men told were
stories of Nyankupon, the chief of the gods. But Spider,
who was very crafty, wanted the stories to be told about
him. So one day, Spider went to Nyankupon and asked
that, in future, all folktales told by men might be Anansi’s
stories instead of Nyakupon’s stories. Nyankupon agreed
but on one condition: Spider, also known as Anansi, must
bring him three things, the first was a jar full of live bees,
the second was a boa-constrictor, and the third a tiger.
Spider gave his promise. Next day, he took a jar and went
to a bee hive. He murmured to himself, “They will not be
able to enter this jar. Yes, they will be able...” The bees
heard him and asked him what he was talking about. He
told them that Nyankupon argued with him that the bees
will not enter the jar. The bees yelled that they can and
flew into the jar, Anansi sealed up the jar immediately. He
took a long stick and went to the boa-constrictor. He mur-
mured to himself, “Some people say he will not be as long
as this. Other people say he will...” The boa-constrictor
fell for the trick and got tied to the stick from end-to-end.
Anansi sewed up his eyes half way and went to the tiger.
He said, “You need to see the beautiful things I see with
my sewn up eyes. I must sing about them.” Tiger replied,
”Sew up my eyes too. I want to see them.” Anansi sewed
up his eyes and tied him up. Anansi, the Spider, fulfilled
his promise to Nyankupon.
3

8. old age
Your teeth have fled their nest,
Dust rules over the Holy Book,
Untouched buttons of your radio look on,
Curtain folds are like a nurse’s starched uniform,
Your soup bowl has become a roach’s pool,
Your appetite is painted in dull colours,
Your stick is the centre in the spider’s handcraft,
Vivacity basks in a second childhood,
The sturdy voice that bounce on walls is now drained,
The kite-sharp eyesight simmers on dying fire,
Your countenance is the light of a fast sinking sun,
Muscles of steel now soft like newly ground corn,
Humor has abandoned your garden,
Where are the mighty hands that lifted me when I fell?
Silent weeds strangle years,
Tendrils of life are tangled up and bewildered,
Your worm-eaten garb sways in the wind,
My eyes well up and rage weighs my throat down,
You are the mahogany never meant to shed his leaves.
~ Sophie N. Bamwoyeraki
4

9. tortoise and nothing
Near Tortoise’s miserable little hut there was a fine
palace where lived a rich man called Nothing. One day,
Tortoise and Nothing proposed to go to the neighbouring
town to get some wives. They set off together. Nothing,
being a very rich man, wore a very fine velvet cloth, while
Tortoise had a ragged cotton one. On their way, Tortoise
persuaded Nothing to exchange clothes for a little while,
promising to give back the fine velvet before they reached
the town. He delayed keeping his promise on one pretext
and another - till they arrived at their destination. Tor-
toise, being dressed in such a fine garment, found no dif-
ficulty in getting as many wives as possible. Poor Nothing,
with his ragged and miserable cloth, was treated with
contempt. Nothing did not want to embarrass Tortoise in
front his many wives. A woman took pity on Nothing and
gave him her daughter. The other women mocked her for
marrying a poor man. When they reached the cross-roads,
Tortoise and Nothing exchanged clothes. The women
were astonished to also see that the road that leads to
Tortoise’s hut was bushy while the road that leads to
Nothing’s palace was wide and beautiful.
5

10. rustic nostalgia
We used to dance and play,
In the warm village rain,
We lived in hope of true love,
From men so strong and brave,
We sang our hearts out daily,
As we pounded corn and rice,
United together, dear friend,
A bond of heart and soul,
We trekked to the local school,
With worn-out rubber slippers,
And old school uniforms,
Inherited from graduated seniors,
Then came the final year results,
We made it, we danced and smiled,
We laughed and celebrated,
The urban filth of today,
Headphones and high heels,
Lipstick and push-up bras,
Handbags full of hate and pain,
Loneliness and TV,
The cold social media playground,
Make those rustic days,
A distant memory of milk and honey.
~ Sylvia Agamah
6

11. quietly brilliant
Oh, the Moon.
Ready and poised to wax or wane,
Lady Moon.
You roll on to perfect gain,
Full Moon.
Your incompleteness is now healed!
Lady Moon, are you tired?
You look so pale,
Art thou quiet for weariness?
How you gentle wander,
Until you slowly fade,
Dear Moon.
You are quietly brilliant,
Does the world know,
While she sleeps at night,
That high in the dark sky,
Watches a silver glow,
Until she wakes to daylight?
~ Sylvia Agamah
7

12. ama, the butterfly keeper
In a forest village, there once lived a young woman who
was called Ama. A village surrounded by rocks, moun-
tains and wildlife. Ama loved butterflies. Every morning
she would go to her butterfly house to release the butter-
flies into the sunlight. An amazing sight of colours in the
wind. One evening, she went to fetch some firewood from
the forest. She was shocked to see many dead animals
lying around without wounds from predator attacks.
Ama screamed and fled from the forest. When she got
home she noticed that very few of her butterflies re-
turned home for the night. Ama ran to the chief’s adviser
to report what she saw in the forest. On her way back, in
the midst of the sounds of numerous crickets, she heard
her name. She looked around, there was no one. She
heard, “Ama!” from above her. A talking owl! Ama’s legs
froze out of fear. “Ama,” the owl continued, “mother of
butterflies, black poison from distant lands flows to the
village to destroy everything living. Tell
the villagers.” Fifteen years later, Ama
is yet to tell anyone what the owl said.
The village is now a shadow of itself.
8

13. virgo afrikan
She is draped in thick robe of ofi caste,
Cylinder of beads cascading, like torn rag,
Below her unadulterated pulpit,
Where roll call of wanton congregation supplicates,
Of laali** and osun** painting of her umbilicus,
At quadrangle about sunfall time,
Amidst mortal denizens,
She twirls and turns swiftly,
Into spiraling silhouette of contorted crescent,
To the long drums of wooden skin,
Till my eyes shutter to a briskly musing,
But she is AFRICA, the motherland.
~ Ehindola Peter
9

14. Mr. Anus
The Head told the other members of the body, “I want to
be the leader because, if we want to look at a person, we
do so through the Head. I have intelligence and wisdom.”
The other members of the body told the Head, “We know
that you have intelligence and wisdom, but you have ring-
worm and you have lice; therefore, you do not deserve to
be our leader.” The Hand also announced, “I want to be
the leader because it is I who help the man. If provoked, I
can defend the human body by administering shots. The
head could be strong. But if someone is sick, I make him
eat. If you need to cut something, you use me”. The mem-
bers said to the Hand, “You cannot be our leader because
you slap people, you hit people and you touch everything.
Therefore, we do not give you the power.” The Anus
boldly said, “I am the leader.” The members became very
angry and told the Anus that, even if the power was given
to every other member, they could not give it to the Anus.
Anus said, “You will all know that I am the boss. I will go
home and you shall seek me.” The Anus went home and
closed his door. Five days later, the members decided to
seek the Anus at his house. When they arrived at Mr.
Anus’ house, they said to him, “Anus, it is you who
should be our leader, we came to hand power over to
you.” Anus accepted the offer. Mr. Anus pressed a button,
and the man was able to empty his bowel and felt com-
fortable.
10

15. rainbow wings
This I know,
Not so long ago,
Met I a butterfly,
Beautifully perched on my window glass,
Brought to eye a tear I dry,
Every waking moment,
Was time spent with my friend,
The butterfly of morning light,
Colours of great interest,
So fragile; so magnificent,
Enchanted butterfly!
What stories you tell,
On your rainbow wings –
A crawly caterpillar,
To a stagnant pupa,
Now a soaring wonder,
Your flutters; gust of life,
You are me –
A reflection of change.
~ Sylvia Agamah
11

16. sun so blue
Sitting here in a silent room,
Reflecting to ease the doom,
Words marking my paper down,
Rolling off like a falling crown,
My pain bleeds red as I write,
What my heart hurts to hide.
In my throat a lump,
All emotions numb,
Revenge is sweet,
Lifts me up on my feet,
More bitter words till I surrender,
May they burn you like showers of ember,
As I write,
I share my plight,
To you who made my sun so blue,
Wish you never know I loved you.
~ Sylvia Agamah
12

17. plate chain child
I feel the pain,
And see you,
With nothing to sustain,
But this plate chain,
Handed down…
I see you roam the streets,
Belly empty, head hollow,
But a song,
Rolling off the tongue,
Endlessly rung,
Ding! dong! tongue!
In its incoherence,
You gallivant the dusty roads,
Roaming in windy abandon,
The ring of your laughter overwhelm the streets,
Proud of the plate chain,
You, a street king...
I see you;
A wretched contentment,
And wonder…
~ Feyisayo Adeyemi
13

18. the wise beggar
One day a hungry beggar went to the house of a rich man.
He asked for something to eat. The rich man invited the
beggar in and gave him some fufu. The beggar ate the
fufu very quickly. When he finished, the rich man asked,
“Do you want more to eat?” The beggar answered, “No,
thanks. That was enough, I’m full.” But the rich man gave
the beggar a large plate of rice. The beggar finished the
rice very quickly too. “Do you want more to eat?”, the rich
man asked again. The beggar answered, “No, thanks. That
was enough, I’m full.” But the rich man didn’t stop. He
gave the beggar a bowl of pepper soup. The beggar quick-
ly finished the pepper soup. “Why do you lie to me?”, the
rich man asked, “Everytime I ask you if you want more to
eat, you say no. But everytime I give you more, you eat it
very quickly.” The beggar looked around. Outside the
kitchen there was a large calabash. He filled the calabash
with stones and asked the rich man, “Is this calabash
full?” The rich man said, “Of course it’s full.” Then the
beggar put some sand in the calabash that was full of
stones. “Is this calabash full?”, he asked again. “Of course
it’s full,” the rich man answered. Then the beggar got a
big bowl of water. He poured the water into the calabash
that was full of stones and sand. “You see” he said to the
rich man, “Everytime I ask you if the calabash is full, you
say yes; but everytime you say yes, I fill the calabash
again. It’s the same with the food you gave me.”
14

19. CONTRIBUTORS
Emmanuel Monychol was born on the outskirts of a
town called Tonj in South Sudan. He has studied in
South Sudan and Uganda. He is currently taking a Mas-
ters degree (Media Management) in the United Kingdom.
Sophie N. Bamwoyeraki was born in south western
Uganda, Mbarara. Sophie holds a Masters in Education
and currently teaches at Kampala International School,
Uganda. She has co-authored text books for secondary
schools. She is currently compiling a poetry anthology.
Ehindola Peter was born in the northern stretch of
Ondo state, Nigeria. He holds a B.A in English from
Adekunle Ajasin University, Akungba, Akoko, Ondo
state, Nigeria, with research focus on Post-Modernist
Theory and Rhetorics. He is currently a graduate student
at the Centre for Peace and Strategic Studies (Institute of
African Studies), University of Ibadan.
Feyisayo Adeyemi was born in Ondo town and studied
English at Adekunle Ajasin University, Akungba, Akoko,
Ondo state, Nigeria. He captures life in texts and frames.
Feyi works as an SEO Manager and runs a blog that fea-
tures literary expressions, art and culture:
www.nantygreens.com

20. Sylvia O. Agamah was born in Lagos, Nigeria. She
studied Mass Communication (B.A) from the Universi-
ty of Jos, Plateau state, Nigeria. She has a Diploma in
Creative Writing (ALISON Certified Learning). She is a
graduate of the Policy and Legal Advocacy Centre
(PLAC) Internship Programme where she was deployed
to the Senate Committee on Rules and Business at the
National Assembly, Abuja, Nigeria. She is also a certi-
fied YALI (Young African Leaders Initiative) Green
Champion (Climate Change Educator).
Other books written by Sylvia O. Agamah:
“Ama, the Butterfly Keeper”
“Make a Difference”