I never said

I taught you to roar

You always had it in you

deep in your throat

you just took your time.

But then I was there

when only meows and purrs escaped your lips

instead of the growls of a jungle beast

when all you did was run and pounce and fall.

I couldn’t carry you

so I just fell with you

wanting you to stand

so that you could lift me.

I cried your tears

because lions don’t shed tears

They only shake their mane and bare their teeth.

Now your growl is thick

Your roar is strong

And I am a doe

that must either become a lion

or get left behind.

A Twist in the Tale: The Deal

To kick this off, and in her characteristic BDSM style, the Queen of the Phantompages, Weird_oo…



“How desperate are you?”

“Very desperate! Very!”

“Heehn… Dude this could be dangerous o! What if it doesn’t work?”

“I know…I know! Just the only option now”



Shut up!

The muffled voice of one of the masked men hisses at the whimpering woman face down on the floor. She stifles her pleading, her muttered prayers inaudible, swallowed by the ground.

“Where is the money kept!”

“Please…Please.. I don’t have much.” She points vaguely at a set of drawers. “Please..”

The man stomps to the drawers and yanks them open. He picks up Naira notes haphazardly dropped at various corners.

“This is all? Madam do you want to die??”

She yelps, her cries starting anew. “Please! Please! My husband is away. I don’t have much on me! Please!”

The man cocks the pistol he had in his hand. “Shut up!” he screams for the second time.

He walks over to his silent partner and whispers into his ear.

His masked partner nods brusquely and casting a nervous glance at the prostrating woman, he walks out of the bedroom.

When his partner leaves, he bends over the crying woman and turns her over.

He points the gun to her head.

“You know what I can do with this?”

She doesn’t reply, eyes wide in horror, limbs shaking uncontrollably.

Do you?!” He glares at her, his eyes tinged red by his contact lenses. Beads of sweat get soaked in his black balaclava. She averts her eyes, terrified and nods quickly.

“Good. Now if you cooperate with me, you will not die. Just be quiet. Ok?”

She nods.

He walks over to her open closet and finding a pantyhose, he tears it into strips and binds her arms and legs firmly.

The last piece of cloth, he shoves roughly into her mouth.

Without any preamble, he rips her night dress apart and she gasps, her screams rendered to mere mewling by her gag.

With disinterest, he zips down and brings out his flaccid penis from the confine of his boxers. Giving it a brisk rub, he smiles as it hardens and quick as a flash, he enters into her.

He thrusts into her quickly, his eyes averted from the glazed look of disbelief and shock on her face.

When he is spent, he slips out of her and zips back up. Without a backward glance, he leaves the room and rejoining his accomplice, they creep out of the house.


“Good? Good?”

“Yup! We got what we wanted.”


“Dude focus and drive! Geez…need a cold, stiff one. You owe me”

The other man nods mutely.


It is almost two hours before she realises she’s alone. Weakly, she struggles against her bonds and manages to free herself. She spits out her gag and a wave of nausea hits her. She crawls towards the toilet, her weak knees protesting. Unable to move further, she bends over and hurls her dinner on the rug.

She pulls herself up, eyes searching for her phone. Had they stolen it?


It is under the bed.

She leans over gingerly, pulling it towards her.

She keys in a number and after three rings, a sleepy voice answers.

“Baby? What is it? It’s 3am in the morning”

“Robbers” she whispers, her voice breaking.

There is a shocked silence at the other end of the line. “Jesus. Did they touch you? Gbemi what did they do!”

“Just…come home. Please”

“I’d be on next flight..Gbemi! Talk to me! Gbemi!”

She cuts the phone and slumps on the floor, tears streaming down her eyes unchecked.

She gasps weakly, rolling to her side, the rug soaking up her tears.


“Did they touch you! Tell me!”

“Make me forget.



She removes her clothes and stands naked before him. “Make me…forget…please…”

Her lips quiver and quickly, he gathers her up in his arms, his shoulders quivering with tension and grief.

“My baby…”

She shakes in his arms. “Make…me…forget…”

He carries her into the room gently and lays her on the bed.

“I’m so sorry…” he whispers, his voice thick with unshed tears as he slowly enters into her.



Five year old Dayo plays with his Christmas present, his toothy grin making his mother, Gbemi smile in satisfaction.

“The older he grows, the more he looks like you” she quips to her husband.

“Of course! That’s the son of his father!” His face shines with pride.

She sighs, oddly content. “After three years of marriage. Was beginning to wonder if something was wrong with me… Then the…”

“Shh…” he murmurs, looking worriedly at her.

She shakes her head. “It’s ok. It’s been five years. I am almost there. Don’t…don’t hear his voice anymore…”

Rotimi walks to her and draws her into him. Together, they sit in silence. “Something finally clicked with us… And he came…” She continues, her eyes drawn back to their son.

“All that matters…”

“Yes….all that matters”

“By the way, Chris sends his greetings.”

Her smile fades instantly and he notices.

“He’s…he’s getting better Gbemi. He’s stopped drinking now”

“Mmm hmmm.”

“He just wants to see his nephew…”

Gbemi turns to glare at her husband. “No way I’m allowing that drunk of your brother near my son! Dayo needs no uncle.”

Rotimi sighs. “You know it comes with his job…the wines and all”

She scoffs. “Job? He still goes about calling himself an actor? Wasn’t he kicked out of a movie set the last time I heard about him?”

He keeps quiet, his rows furrowed with worry.


“What you mean she’s adamant! Why can’t I see him?”

Rotimi holds a placating hand up to his brother. “Look, I’m trying ok?”

“WELL TRY HARDER!” he screams and slams his fists on the table. Rotimi jumps, startled.

He stares at his brother warily. “You’re drunk right?”

His brother glares at him. “And so what? Think you better than I am?!”

“Listen… I can get you some more money…how much you want this month? I can…”


Rotimi glares at him. “Don’t say that shit out loud” he growls.

“Or what?? He is mine…isn’t he?”

Rotimi remains silent, gnawing at his lips with growing apprehension.

This is not good… He is getting out of control


“Yes, what can I do for you?”

Gbemi glares at her brother-in-law, barring him from entering the house.

“I want to see Dayo”

“Well you can’t”

She crosses her arms and stares him down.

“Look here! I will see that boy and I will see him now!” he growls and she tenses up, nose flaring with rising rage.

“You will get out of my house now! You scrounger! Go away! Go find a job!”

He smirks in her face. “Bitch. Let me see my son…”

His smirk widens to a wolfish grin at the frown on her face. “Are you drunk?! Are you mad??”

He smiles again and clearing his throat, he deepens his voice into a husky baritone. “If you talk, I’ll shoot you”

Gbemi is stunned to silence.

It clicks

She gasps, her eyes wide, covering her mouth to stop herself from screaming.


He bursts into gales of laughter.

“Yes me, you bitch! Me!”

Her hands shake as tears pool in her eyes. “You! I will…I’ll report to the authorities! I will..I will tell Rotimi this!”

His laughter shakes his frame and he leans on the door, tears of cruel mirth rolling down his eyes.

“Tell Rotimi? That impotent bastard! He needed a child! Who do you think was my accomplice the night I fucked you?”

She freezes in shock. Her knees wobble and she falls, slipping into unconsciousness.



And as usual, that African woman lady delivers! Stay glued to this page for the next instalment..tomorrow! With none other than @OWEx_

Don’t forget to leave your comments! 🙂

Follow on Twitter @Janus_aneni, follow the Blog and be notified of upcoming posts, pay your tithes in church, give alms to the poor, vote for GEJ, buy a Bugatti and sleep in it.

That would be all.


Introducing: A Twist in the Tale

A Twist in the Tale..Tail..

A Twist in the Tale..Tail..

Ashes float by my eyes as the wind whips at my hair and the acrid smell of smoke and death burns into my nostrils. The killing ground is quiet now; bodies litter the grass and puddles of blood lie splattered in every direction.
I move towards the desolate sound of a trumpet far in the distance. My tread is heavy; I’ve lost a lot of blood. From a wound on my head, blood threatens to run down my face. I want to wipe the blood out of my eyes, then I remember. My arm is gone.
I look down at the limb, for it is a mere limb now. I imagine I can detect faint twitches as though it is still alive. But it is not. The stump in my shoulder is still bleeding, though the pain is mostly gone now. But my right hand is dead. It looks funny just lying there on the blood-soaked grass still gripping the hilt of my beautiful sword Araéndule.
I toss the spear I have been leaning against to the ground, its tip still bright red with the blood of the foe who took my arm. Kneeling painfully, I release my sword from the death grip of my lifeless arm.

Gripping it tightly in my left hand, I step forward. I stagger slightly but I regain my balance on time. The gods kept me for a reason, I will not die. I have to live. I take another step and somewhere in the distance I hear the sounds of thundering hooves. My heart beats faster, adrenaline surges through my veins, and I whirl in a perfect roundabout twirl, my robes flapping all about me, sword hand at the ready…

And the Director yells, “CUT! Roll tape. It’s a wrap people. Somebody get that prosthetic and please switch on the lights and cue out that ‘hoof’ theme. Nice job people..”

Yup! The warrior was an actor, and yeah, it was a movie..

For your reading pleasure, All in this life’s journey presents, A Twist in the Tale.

If you’ve read, the Jeffrey Archer collection of short stories, you’ll have an idea what’s about to happen. But for the rest I’ll spell it out. Starting 20th May, you dear reader, will be thrilled by different writers to different stories and poems from every genre, with only one underlying factor: each will have within it, the most unexpected twist.

No? Well..lemme introduce the writers and maybe you’ll understand what I’m talking about..

In no particular order, and with each throwing various gang signs, kido sigils and Illuminati symbols, make welcome:


Two ladies, six men, one hemaphrodite.. Yes! Clap! Clap! Never before seen no? Aha..and yes, Nine is a magical number. -___-

It all begins on Monday, 20th May.

See posters and follow on Twitter @janus_aneni for details..


%d bloggers like this: