A Collection of Short Stories

Olisaeloka Onyekaonwu
Jibril
proud, cries of “Allahu Akbar!”
Then I knew at once who they were. And my heart froze.
RUN!
I spun around and darted towards the bush where Baba had killed a ram during the last
Sallah. I ran and ran until my feet no longer felt the earth, until I felt I was flying. But that feeling
did not last long. My leg hit a stone and I found myself lunging forward, head first, into the
bush.
I dragged myself to my feet in an attempt to run further into the bush, into the dark. But I
staggered, then fell. The pain, like a river surging through a broken dam, spread quickly from
my foot to other parts of my body. My mouth snapped open in a scream, and suddenly, a
large palm covered my mouth.
***
“Are you blind?” Abu Danjuma roared. “Can’t you see that he is just a boy?”
“I didn’t shoot, sah,” Umar said innocently, lowering his gun.
They were beside a van.
“Is the boy dead?” Abu Danjuma asked.
“I don’t think so.”
“Then go and find out!”
Umar, gun in hand, went.
***
I opened my eyes and I saw Mallam Usman looking down at me
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