By Khadija Musa

Birthed by a legend was a brave lass who saw the death of her father before her eyes. The legend had a tug of war with infirmity and lost the game.
    On the night of his death,he came home looking battered,so she hurriedly collected his tools that were generously covered with mud and kept them by the hut leading them to their old dusty hut.
   She sat by him with her teary eyes,prayed silently as that was all she could do . Unforeseen moving silhouettes disrupted her and barged in ,asking for what they knew was not attainable; money.
   Everything happened in a jiffy, before she could register what was happening, he slumped and there was crimson liquid all around, they dragged him out and covered him with earth and left.
   In agony, she packed her belongings tucked their forgotten metal weapon I’m her wrapper and left.
    As she was walking, she heard their voices and she was happy they were not far from her , holding the weapon out smiling she pulled the trigger 

By Jonathan Oluwatosin O

At today’s gathering, Nadia recited a poem that ended with “…its okay to say that my Step Dad didn’t rape me, my Mother did!”. Palms were jammed in applause to the alluring words. 

Benediction and everyone was dismissed. If only they knew that a prayer point had earlier stood behind a mic; telling her own story. But it is poetry right? Another Poet perfectly puts words down that addresses an issue that was already growing into being a cliché

The day before, Nadia told her mother of the things done to her by her Stepfather. Her mother replied “you know happy say we don dey see food chop, no tell anyone abeg”. 

Nadia returned that night, made her way to their bedroom and wasted no time in calling judgement upon her defiler. Her mother was next, and no begging did spare her a bullet.

I stood faintly behind her, hoping I was much more than her shadow; so I could stretch my hands to cease the gun. I screamed, but it was all but silent yells. 

Gently, she guided her shaky hands to her head; with the gun pointing just above her ear, smiling, she pulled the trigger. 

By Chiziterem Chijioke

Abebe was no man that he thought himself to be. He felt the need to cheat on her, and not just that, he felt the need to have another family. And when she had found out, she had confronted him. His only apology was the contact of his palm with her very yellow skin. She had stumbled, stunned and shocked at his reaction. He had betrayed her. Why? For what? Rising from the seat, her eyes drenched with tears, the room empty, silent and free from the echoes of younglings running in glee, she realized why Abebe had changed. She was barren. Ten years of marriage, no issue and suddenly it was only her fault. But the humiliation would never happen again. He was passed out on the couch opposite her, his eyes closed and his breath smelling of liquor. He had returned from seeing his second family. And here he was, uncaring about how she felt. Well that was good, because she was uncaring too. There was only one solution to all the problem and it involved someone’s end. It wasn’t going to be hers. Lifting both her hands from her sides, smiling, she pulled the trigger.

By Peace .E. Victor

The last exam Eno wrote was the most difficult exams she has written since she got admission into the school. Few days later, while she was preparing to return home for holiday, her phone rang, she picked the call.
 ” Eno”  her mother called. “Good morning ma” eno greeted.”Eno your  father has been fired!” Her mother said.”Fired!” Eno screamed, as her mother ended the call, Goosebumps filled her body, like the whole world had fallen on her, she is yet to recover from the fear of failing her exams, now her father has been fired. The pain of paying her fees in school, she has drop out of school or face the embarrassment from Mr Wilson for not paying her fees.
She picked up her bucket of water, just as she was about to enter the bathroom, she collapsed.Few days later,  she woke up and finds herself in the hospital, with her mother and friends.  She couldn’t believe she had been in coma.
 ” Thank God you are alive  Your father has been called back to work” her mother said excitedly.
 “Congratulations! You had an excellent result”  Clara said.She looked at them smiling, she pulled the trigger.’


It was 6am. The day had finally come. The USA international field Archery. Naomi closed her eyes as she silently prayed. Thirty minutes later, she was already dressed.

Today determines if she would qualify for the championship level.

“You can do this Naomi”, she told herself as Francis her brother entered the room after a quick knock.

“Hey sis, are you ready?” He asked

“To be honest Francis, I’m nervous.”

“You don’t have to be; you’ve come this far. We all believe in you”, he encouraged.

“If only dad was here”, she commented sadly.

He had gotten a call and couldn’t fly with them for her most important game.

At the venue, Naomi’s coach approached her .

“Keep your focus, aim high and make us proud, Naomi”, he saidwith a pat on her shoulders.

Then she heard the announcer call her up: “now, we have Naomi Jacobs from Nigeria.”

She looked at her brother, giving her a reassuring smile, before walking towards the field.

She carried her ICU 10m match crossbow and positioned it on her shoulders. Her father’s words ringing in her head: “you are the best!”

She got the needed confidence; smiling, she pulled the trigger.

By Ruqayyah Saghir Nabage

As she stood there staring at the ground with so many thoughts battling for dominance,
‘Was it all worth it?’ prevailed.

Memories flickered half formed. Laughter, spoons over a flame, cake at midnight, ganja fumes induced philosophy, Netflix and coconut, syringes, finally a gunshot.

Yes, they had lived, loved, laughed. But had the price been worth it?

“Live out the rest of your days with me in utter revelry, debauchery and sin” he’d demanded when their eyes met from across the room and they’d gravitated towards each other. His broken eyes her new center of gravity.


“Because you are the most sinful thing I have ever seen.” She’d claimed she wasn’t that type of girl and left him chuckling after her.
Having an Achilles heel for broken things and bad mistakes, she’d been drawn to him and the rest, as they say, was history.
Funny how she’d thought she could fix him.

Turns out he was the one that broke her instead.

‘Yes, it had been worth it.’ 
Only she hadn’t expected him to leave her in this hopeless universe after he had shown her the stars beyond Midgard. No, death couldn’t separate them.

Smiling, she pulled the trigger.


By Yunusa Ibrahim

Kattume could not believe her eyes shortly after she fully regained her consciousness. “Inna lillahiwa’inna…”, She mumbled, completely dumbfounded. She was constricted to a metallic chair, legs apart and arms apart. She could not scratch her itching body parts from mosquitoes’ bites or wipe off a frightening sweat running down her long neck. Her heart was beatingspasmodically fast. She’s terrified. To conceal it, she pretended to be still unconscious; thus, she could subdue the fear.  

Her kidnapper, waiting for her full concentrationslapped her after he realized what she did. “Ok, listen up, girl”, he shouted. “In case you don’t realize what is going on here because I poisoned you before I kidnapped you, this is a serious business that needsyour cooperation”

As with many kidnappers, he was carrying a gun butwas slightly distracted by a transparent view of her pointy chest caused by the profound sweat. He untightened her and made a move for it. She was pissed off for that and bit off his ear. Disoriented, he dropped down the gun while shouting. She picked up the gun and pointed at his frontal lobe. “Oh no!”, he exclaimed. Paradoxically smiling, she pulled the trigger.

Title: Happy Deathday

Gift Ukay

She had woken up depressed as always, with no expectations for the new day; not even her birthday. Living isn’t worth it, the demons in her head had always told her. 
Waking up, she pulled out her diary from underneath her pillow, and resumed to pouring out her emotions on the pages with her ink. 
Dear diary,
It’s my birthday, but it looks more like a death day. I have so much grief in me. I can’t hold on for much longer. So, I ask for a gift, a gift befitting this day…
As she wrote, the tears flooding her eyes blurred her vision. She tried wiping them off with the back of palm. She continued writing, and stopped when she heard the ding-dong at the door. Rising on her feet, she made for the door. 
On opening, there was no one there, but on the floor laid a parcel. She lifted it. Shutting the door behind her, she opened it up. Inside it was a revolver with a red ribbon and a paper tag with inscription ‘Happy Deathday’. 
“My gift,” she muttered. After admiring it, she lifted it to her head. Smiling, she pulled the trigger.
Gift Ukay


By Rilwan Sanusi

Standing ten meters away from her is her target. Calm, composed and focused, she took a deep breath to calm her rambling nerve. Slowly she aimed at her target with her rifle.She caressed the trigger gently with her forefinger as she focuses on her target. She closed her eyes, preparing to take the shot. In that moment  she remembered the guns, violence, drugs and prostitution in the neighborhood she grew up. She remembered her battle with drugs and depression and also how she took a gun and thought about ending her own life and how her mother’s words were able to convince her not to. With her eyes still closed she whispered the  words her mother said to her, “if you must point a gun at something, then point it at an obstacle that is blocking your path to success and when you pull the trigger make sure you don’t miss”.Finally she opened her eyes. All that stood between her and winning the international shooting sports federation shooting event was just a point.Knowing that there is no way she going to miss her target, she stopped caressing the trigger, and smiling, she pulled the trigger. 

By Chirpeewrites.

When she was ten, she believed she could fly. She thought it was all about flapping your wings and then you’d meet with the sky. As she grew older, she realized it doesn’t work like that, life never treated her right. She was faced with all of the bad. Life pushed her to her limit, tested her beyond her endurance.
It started when she lost her mom. She had to cater for her brother and herself at age fifteen. The people she turned to for help, forced their ways in between her legs. She stopped liking who she was, sometimes she’d envision herself speaking with God, trying to ask him the reason for what he has done because she feels cheated and she hasn’t done anything wrong.
So one Friday night she picked up a gun and decided to end the pain. She placed her hand on her heart, but she didn’t feel any purpose worth staying alive for. She said a little prayer in her mind. “Lord, if I ever come back to the world, don’t make me this girl!” For a special moment she felt alive, knowing very soon the pain would end, smiling, she pulled the trigger.