Ijeoma Mbah
Creative Writer|Public speaker|Social Media Manager|Deep thinker|Writing Coach|Lover of God.
Ijeoma Mbah is a graduate of the University of Ibadan, Nigeria, and a native of Enugu state.
She is a Creative writer, social media manager, tutor and a philosopher. She is an avid reader and a passionate writer who is interested in using storytelling to document the African experience.
She has written a number of short stories, articles and essays some of which have been published on literary magazines, blogs and websites. She is presently working on her first novel.
She can be reached via Facebook@ Ijeoma Mbah and on twitter @ijeoma_mbah1904.
SHORT STORY
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Broken Memories From My Past
A story about heartbreak and rejection from — by Ijeoma Mbah
The Kalahari Review
The Kalahari Review
May 26 · 5 min read
As I rummaged through my old photos, bitter memories from the hollow embers of antiquity came hurling back at me.
Everything happened so fast, alas! I am alone again. It seemed that I was always destined to fall in love with the wrong person.
After two failed relationships I knew love was never going to find me. I left my job, moved to a new apartment and started a small business in a small town in Ibadan.
It all started when my dark, handsome next-door neighbour, came knocking on my door on a cold Sunday morning.
He came hoping to get movies from me, I was reluctant at first for I was always suspicious of strangers.
On seeing my reaction he started retreating, “I am sorry, my name is Muyiwa,I just moved into this neighbourhood, and I was wondering if I could get movies from you, I wouldn’t know how if that’s okay by you.” The rich sound of his voice sounded like music to my ears.
“Why not come in, my name is Lola, I think I can help you.” I heard myself say.
I led him into my small apartment, got out my laptop and started surfing through the internet for the latest Nollywood movies.
I could feel his eyes on my fingers while I worked, I felt uncomfortable.
“why not go through the movies yourself, you might not like my kind of movies.” I handed the laptop to him. As he moved quietly and sat beside me on the only sofa in my room, I caught the faint scent of his cologne.
While he sat beside me, he appeared tensed and I guessed that he was worried about something. “is everything okay?” I inquired.
He shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat. “I am sorry I get like this at times, just that you remind me so much of my ex-girlfriend, we broke up few months ago.”
“I am sorry about, care to talk about it?” I asked.
he raised his eyes to meet mine “I met my ex Jumoke, while I was working in a firm in Lagos.”
“Then I was working as an accountant, while she was a cashier.” “From the first day I saw her, I fell in love with her, she was gorgeous and intelligent.”
“Jumoke was the eldest child of her family, their Dad had left when she was ten. She was always looking sad, I hated seeing her like that, so I decided to help.”
He cleared his throat again, “ To cut the story short, I gave her all my savings, when I approached her to marry me, she refused, I became confused and angry, I demanded an explanation, she told me she was also seeing our manager, and is ready to be his second wife.”
When he raised his gentle eyes to meet mine, he had tears in his eyes “she told me that she would rather be a second wife to a Man who can take care of her and cater for of her family, rather than be the only wife of a man who was still struggling.”
The sight of a crying Man made me uncomfortable, immediately I hated Jumoke for putting him through all this. I handed him a white handkerchief to blow his nose.
I smiled as I thought of both of us, “ isn’t it funny that what we want, might not want us, I fell in love with a Man, whom I felt would stay with me, I loved him with everything inside of me. I practically had to beg for everything he ought to give me.”
A dry laugh erupted from my lips, as I narrated my own experience. “I had to beg for his love and attention, all the while he was sleeping with my best friend and now they are getting married!”
“I will probably die a spinster, please is it too much to ask for attention, from a man
who claimed he loves me?” I lamented.
As we shared our bitter experiences, I felt like I have known him for a long time, he wanted comfort and succour, but I desperately needed love.
He reached for my right hand and squeezed my fingers reassuringly. “You are a beautiful woman, your ex is probably stupid to have let a woman who is ready to love him slip away.”
I smiled amidst my tears, “Thanks, you are so kind, your ex was also foolish for leaving you.”
He pulled me closer to himself on the sofa “Come here,” he crooned. I could feel his breath on my face.
He handed my handkerchief back to me, which I used to dry my tears. There and then I wished he was mine and I wished he could stay with me.
He tilted my chin to meet his soft eyes, “Everything will be alright, it is not your fault, having a bad relationship doesn’t mean you are a bad person.” Just hearing him speak reassuringly ignited hope inside me.
Muyiwa leaned closer and touched his lips to mine, I kissed him back, I don’t know what came over me, on a Sunday morning! I kissed him back.
This was how our relationship started. Once we started having sex, we couldn’t stop. We became addicted to each other, we acted like wild animals, the only thing we did was eat, sleep and have sex.
Our relationship came to a halt when Jumoke started calling Muyiwa tell him that, she was been mistreated by her husband, and needed to talk to him. He left for Lagos and never came back. Nothing made sense again, I felt used and dirty.
I ended up alone again, struggling to put my tattered life back together again. Trying to bandage the shattered pieces of my broken heart.
Gathering my box of old photos I strolled lazily to the back of my apartment and set them ablaze. I had no business been in a relationship again.
Ijeoma Mbah is a Nigerian writer. She hails from Enugu State, Nigeria. She holds a B.A degree in philosophy, from the University of Ibadan, Nigeria. Ijeoma is a passionate writer and an avid reader. She is a member of Prolific Fiction Writers Community. You can follow her on Twitter @ijeoma_mbah1904.
Fiction
Ijeoma Mbah
African Literature
Nigeria
Heartbreak
THE GENESIS OF WRITING
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THE GENESIS OF WRITING
Recently I have had a couple of individuals, coming into my inbox to ask me about how to write.
Well writing is not rocket science, for me writing is a profession of the soul, exciting and tasking at times.
To write well, you must understand that writing is about communication and skillful articulation of ideas, the tool of communication here is language.
The first step towards writing is understanding how to use language effectively to convey intended meaning.
At this point, I must also say that all good writers are readers. As such, if you want to improve your writing skills, read, read and read! Do not join the band wagon of individuals who believe that the only way to improve your writing skills is by writing alone.
Furthermore, writing takes practice, if you must improve you must practice! Write consistently. Do not wait till you have a perfect work or manuscript. Perfection is the killer of dreams! By the way nobody has a perfect manuscript.
Short story (MAID OF HONOUR)
writing from
Scars Publications
Audio/Video chapbooks cc&d magazine Down in the Dirt magazine books
This writing was accepted
for publication in the
108 page perfect-bound ISSN# /
ISBN# issue/book
“Three Things”
Down in the Dirt, v185
(the July 2021 Issue)
Order the paperback book: order ISBN# book Down in the Dirt
Maid of Honour
Ijeoma Mbah
On my first day at the university of Lagos, the earth literary stopped for me to feast my eyes on the handsome face of Malik.
He was everything I ever imagined my dream man would look like. He was tall, dark and sightly built.
I sauntered towards him on shaky feet, stretching out my hand for a handshake, “Hi, my name is Amaka,” I said, quivering with excitement like a leaf in the harmattan.
He stared down at my hand like I was thrusting out a bag of filth towards him, “I don’t shake ladies, it’s against my religious principles, my name is Malik, and I am the Students Union President.” he replied in his clipped baritone voice.
He left me standing with my out stretched arm, and my mouth open. Covered in embarrassment and shame, I retreated into my protective shell.
As I strolled back home, I couldn’t help thinking about the handsome face of Malik.
“Haa, he’s an attention seeker, he finds me attractive!” I reassured myself, thankfully no one was listening, I will never stretch out my hand towards him again! Never!
That day, I promised myself that I will always hide my attraction and feelings towards him.
**********************************************************************************************
Two years later.
The sound from my phone, jolted me awake. I reached for my phone and pressed the answer button.
I could hear the voice of my best friend on the other end of the phone, she sounded excited and out of breath.
I wondered what had happened this time.
“Amaka dear, guess what just happened to me!”
I tried guessing, but I couldn’t, “Lola please, it’s late, I have a test tomorrow, can you just say what it is?” I blurted with irritation.
“Well, Malik just proposed to me, we are getting married! And I want you to be my maid of honour,” Lola screamed delightfully on the other end of the phone.
I was silent for a while, till she asked, “Amaka, are you asleep already?”
“I am wide awake, Lola,” I cleared my throat as I spoke.
“I am happy for you Lola, however I cannot be your maid of honour.” I continued, “I am sorry.”
“Amaka, you are my best friend, do this for me, you know I would do the same for you,” Lola urged.
Lola was such a drama queen, I could picture her pouting as she held her cell phone with her right hand while examining her left hand, admiring her new engagement ring, given to her by my handsome Malik.
What could be more painful, I couldn’t even say no to her. My best friend is getting married to the only Man I ever loved.
“Alright, I will be happy to be your maid of honour,” I could hear her chuckling over the phone, like a spoilt little rich girl.
As the voice of Lola faded into the darkness, I laid awake all night on my bed. That night, some part of me died.
Scars Publications
RESPECTING YOURSELF
https://literaryyard.com/2021/04/03/respecting-yourself/
Learning how to respect yourself is one of the best things you can ever do for yourself.
Self-respect is the sense of worth and personal value that you attach to yourself, as a human being.
According to Laurence Stone “Respect for ourselves guides our morals; but respect for others guides our manners.”
Respecting yourself is just like loving yourself, until you learn to love yourself, you cannot love someone else, in a similar vein until you learn to respect yourself, you cannot respect others.
— Respecting yourself means, attaching some degrees of personal value to your existence as an individual.
— It means taking care of your health.
— It means accepting yourself, your flaws and imperfections.
-It means not allowing yourself to be mistreated by anyone.
-Respecting yourself means knowing your limits, and setting healthy boundaries for yourself.
— It means protecting yourself from spiritual, emotional and physical harm.
—- It means telling yourself that you are enough and worthy to be alive.
-It also means protecting yourself from anything that can endanger your peace of mind and existence..
Until you start Respecting yourself nobody will respect you.
An African adage says, “once you tell the whole community that you have a useless calabash, they will certainly use it to pack rubbish.”