Meet one of our Judges, Inufin Ayomide D’great. He is a poet per excellence who has excelled in and mastered the art of making English conform to his writing whims.

Owing to his writing prowess, Ayomide has recently been profiled by Wikipedia as a globally recognized poet.

Some of his 12 achievements are:

* 2004 Goshen Boys & Girls writing competition (runner up)

* Best orator and winner 2015 Professor Atinmo oratory competition, University of Ibadan

* 2016 MidasMinds Literary Inc winner Short story category

* 2017 PCG Dynamite Awards Overall best poet, most creative writer, best Poetry collaboration

* 2018 runner up Poetry & Prose Hood Valentine competition

* 2018 PCG Dynamite Awards Overall best poet, most creative writer, best Poetry collaboration, King of the year, Poem of the year with the poem *Ayo has a boyfriend*, writerolic of the year.

By Bilkisu Musa

“An eye for an eye, nothing more. He shall taste the bitterness of a bleeding heart, an eye for an eye!”  

Amina’s voice was audible enough to wake the dead. “He will have a taste of his own medicine”. With her mind all made up she drew the duvet to herself. Her head sore from all the tears. At her parent’s graves, she had took a handful of sand, with a firm intention she promised. “I will put Alhaji Adam in his grave while you are still fresh in here. Wallahi!” she swore. All grieved, Amina planned her revenge. she had heard his voice while mother stuffed her underneath the bed prior to her dead. Now, full darkness is all she awaits for punishment to be served. He’s still here amidst her family mourning the same people he killed. Slowly she crawled out of bed and headed for Alhaji Adams room. With the gun she had found on her father’s lifeless body held in her palm, she twisted the door handle. He was sitting on the bed, “Shhhhh!” she pointed the gun at him. Smiling, she pulled the trigger. 

By Idris Ayanfe

At the altar she had a slight flashback of the first time the met and how her husband to be managed to persuade her to experience a love she had never expected nor believed could be true but Peter changed her life in a million ways more than she can remember, he was the man of her dreams that came true and had more to offer than she had envisaged, her protector her lover and confidant. He loved her that night like a true lover, she was happy. The next morning While the newlyweds played hide and seek but adding a personal twist to how the game was played; they added the use of pin balls and guns so whoever could spot the opponent had the right to open fire at will, the balls hurt like hell, the players were permitted to aim at any part of the body in exception of the face. She spotted her husband crawled behind the couch turning his butt to her, to add some spice to the game they decided to play in their underwear. She thought of the pain and possible reflex after being hit by the balls smiling, she pulled the trigger.

By Chidiogo Nsude

Tension trickled through space, and she met his gaze, eyeball to cowering eyeball. Utterly frightened, he swallowed.
She cocked her head to the side, a smirk lingering on her lips. He ducked behind his desk and her smirk grew.
“No last words, Kola? Or are we too scared to talk?” 
Kola held up his hands in defence.”Easy Chika, you don’t wanna hurt anyone, put the gun down; you don’t wanna cause anyone pain…”
“Shut up!” Her smirk morphed into a frown in a heartbeat and her grip on the gun tightened. “Shut up Kola!” Her eyes misted from the wealth of emotions she felt. “Pain you say?” She shook her head. “Pain? You don’t know what pain is, but I’ll tell you anyways; good girl that I am.” She chuckled bitterly. “Pain is seeing you bring another woman into our home in my presence and sleeping with her under the same roof. Pain is you throwing me out after making her pregnant; and humiliating me. And now I want to make you feel the pain too.”
“No, please you can’t. Chika, please hear me ou—”
“Oh yes I can. And I will.” 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.


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.

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.