WASHING THE EARTH (A Short Story) by Su’eddie Vershima Agema

MUTUM RODE with the anger of a man scorched. Riding under a sun that blazed its fury was enough to roast the sympathies out of anyone. He thought of his pimp. Well, she wasn’t exactly a pimp. The woman of his thoughts was the owner of the commercial motorcycle he was riding. He always thought of her as ‘The Pimp.’ She owned several motorcycles that she leased to different riders for commercial use. They all gave her daily returns based on agreements; what she called ‘remit.’ Mutum’s daily remit was five thousand naira. It was a figure whose sum was never meant to dance backward for The Pimp never listened to excuses. She once told the riders that she would not consider any reduction, not even if it was used on rescuing her daughter from the gates of hell! Continue reading “WASHING THE EARTH (A Short Story) by Su’eddie Vershima Agema”


He met Adoo long ago, a stunning beauty: petite but full in every other office. Hers was a chocolate dark skin that shone through any season; glistening and moist. She had the most beautiful set of legs seen anywhere, complemented by a full back and perfect waist. An ample bosom that showcased a full chest and an endearing heart followed up and ended in a most rounded ever smiling face that delighted the weariest of souls. She also had a heart of such endless depths to match. Yes, Adoo was all of this and so much more. He—Ngusha—was not the beast, either. Well, not in any deformity. He was a hunk with a height to compensate for hers, and strength to show for her every frailty. He shared her complete smile and perfect denture in a remarkable face that brought older and younger opposites to obeisance. They seemed to complete each other, as everyone said. Nature seemed to agree for a rough wind always seemed to mellow to a loving whisper at their sight. It seemed a union made in heaven, as indeed they made it.

Continue reading “SIMPLY MORTAL (A SHORT STORY)”


by Su’ur Su’eddie Vershima Agema and Sarah Egbo


The discourse of development is complex but often seen from the point of view of a messiah coming in to save a people. Many times, the people who should own projects are neglected. But is development really about help? Is it about handouts? Is out about painting people as needy while showing others as benevolent angels? Again, is development a function of organisations, a society or of individuals?

These formed the crux of the event ‘Development as Dignity: A Conversation with Dapo Oyewole’ which was the theme for the African Writers Development Cafe organised by the African Writers [Society] of the University of Sussex, Falmer, United Kingdom.


The Definition of Hope

Poetry is hope; hope is life; something beautiful. If you would listen, it is a promise. If you would listen, quietly and get those codes that gently unveil themselves to us like dawn unfolds to day; like the caterpillar to a butterfly. It is the look of waters – on a cloudy night; wait a … Continue reading The Definition of Hope


I woke up today, preparing for a lot of things, thinking of how I can better myself to be better for others. I thought of how I could make life far better, but somewhere deep within I guess I thought more of how I could have a better life for myself. Nothing wrong with that … Continue reading MILES DOWN THE RIGHT


Different dawns come upon us and the sun we see today, though the same that appears tomorrow is different in many ways – maybe in intensity, or just in the manner it sends its rays upon us. It is the same thing with affections, emotions and a whole lot more. Today, well, yesterday was a … Continue reading LONELY WALKS