Download: Black Diary, my first published book (free)

It took me a long time to put this here. The reason i think was born out of fear, the fear that it would not be accepted. “Even seasoned writers feel the same way” someone said to me, he practically convinced me to go on and share my thoughts with the word, and let them decide.

Download: Black Diary – Sadeeq M. Oyeniji

Black Diary – Sadeeq Moshood

black-diaryFinally after months of re-writing and re-reading, i finally decided to let the world meet my first book. Black Diary, for those of you following me on instagram @9josky this will not come as a surprise to you. help share the word, help Black Diary reach great height and place.

Black Diary is a collection of flash fiction and poetry.

Don’t be left out, go to the link bellow and download. Share with #BlackDiary

Source: Black Diary – Sadeeq Moshood

Procrastination: The Deadly Game (Flash pt.2)

Why do today, what you can do tomorrow or next month and still be on time? I can’t really say have lost faith in the church, I’d say it is just me keeping my faith for the right time, and I can’t seem to convince anybody it ain’t procrastination.

“Dayo, why were you not in church today?” Sade blocked my path as I made my way down the stairs, her eyes were the color of the evening sun, a bloody red. “Babe, there are a lot of sundays to come ” I smiled, I could feel my next sentence building in my head, from the long list of vocabulary I had stored in my head for those Jehovah witness members. “Where as, the bible says go into the world, not into the church” my smile grew larger challenging her to ask me where it was mentioned in the bible.

                         ***                                                Blood they say is thicker than water, if you also believe that saying  you need to change your thinking. I lay on my back in a pool of blood enough to house atlest hundred fishes. Something that sounded like prayer burst from my mouth.                                                               

                       ***

“Bro Dayo?” Sister Tinuke, one of the sisters assigned to me from ‘The Saints church’ down the road called my attention, I looked at the faces of her two companions wondering if they were also wolves in sheep skin themselves; pretending just because of Sister Tinuke, if only they knew how many times we had both laid together on her numerous house visits to Bro Dayo all alone, the thought made me smile. “Why were you not in church today?”  The same question they have been asking for the past three weeks since I stopped attending The Saints church.                                                            “God hasn’t spoken to me yet” I replied with the same punchline.

“Don’t forget he saved your life!” ‘That’s a new one’ I thought. I guess these sisters did their home work well before entering the den of Bro Dayo, I turned to Sister Anjola who had spoken. “It is because he love’s me” I smiled at her.emphasizing on the word love, had made her flush, so a Wolf she is then, hiding behind a sheep skin.

Now I am all alone, I thought back to the accident that happened two months ago, it should have taken my life, but God did a miracle and here I am. “I trust you man!” I said out loud. “I just don’t have faith in the church nowadays”. ‘Or because there are still a lot of Sun-Days ahead’ my procrastinator mind said. I smilled at myself as I reached for my phone to call Sister Anjola, I paused midway, maybe I should call are tomorrow or the day after.
N.B: This is just fiction, it has nothing to do with religion.

Flash fiction: Insanity, the virus in my head.

There I was on my kneels steering lifelessly at nothing in particular, my thinking going in different directions, except for the image of a burning house imprinted at the back of my head, I think I lived there once?, or do I still live there?. If not for the burning flames around the building, I could have gone rushing in.

There were cries of sorrow around me, didn’t Kemi say I have a family?, if I did why are they not out here with me?, are they inside the burning house?.

“Mr David”, that stupid voice in my head again, I am not Mr David I tried to say, but I was lost somewhere in my mind. “Mr David” something sticky landed on my shoulder, though I felt it, still I was oblivious to it. “You are taking this situation personal”, personal? The word vibrated in my head, my family is probably in the burning house, and whatever it is in my head is talking about taking…..

Then the flames went down, the house was untouched not even a scratch or smoke tainted the building. This time I turned to the voice in my head scared to death, “What happened?” I asked, finally finding my outer voice, I sounded worried and joyful at the same time. “Mr David, congratulations you are responding to treatment”,  Kemi, the voice in my head said and walked away from me and my knotted mind, leaving us to figure things out ourselfs.

Procrastination: The Deadly Game (flash pt.1)

Have heard people say, ‘I want to do this’, ‘i want to do that’, and they end up doing nothing. There is this saying, “learn from the mistakes of others”. I don’t know about you, but I am a little blind to the mistakes of others, I take things far too lightly to worry about future events.

Like the other day when I was threatened by some goons over a chick, a full grown chick (be advised, writer not talking about a chicken!), some of them warned me to watch my back, while others warned me to lock my door tightly at night. You could have thought I would be scared, please don’t make me laugh, I’d rather be scared of cockroaches than those clowns, not one strand of my life got scared, every night I would lay on my bed looking blankly at the bolt behind the door, thinking should I bolt the door or not? I don’t think I ever made it to the door.
Bang! Bang!! Bang!!!, I became confused, in my dream I was at the beach with friends, why then is there a knock on a door?, do beaches also have doors?, I think we both know the answer. I was forced from out of my sweet dreams of bikinis and shorts, what a life!, well the knock was on my door and not the door at the beach, and the sea I thought I was swimming in, is actually my bed soaked in water, those goons i told you about finally came, you don’t what to know what happened next.

I wish I could just tell you what happened next, but… Ok, cool, am also not sure what happened except I woke up at the morgue. Trust my Niger sense, immediately I saw those two faced bastards, boom!! I went for the open door, only I didn’t make it before I was knocked unconscious.
That’s not the reason for this open letter, it was just an instance, seeing as you jumped it, I also feel its not a good example, you procrastinator.

Yes, I called you a procrastinator, I can never forget your face, since you infected me with this deadly disease, you brought my warm blooded self into this deadly game, and made me cold blooded.
Am going to get you for this, only I haven’t stopped Procrastinating.

My work mistaken for another persons, changing the title of my work.

Am sorry if my up coming book has gotten my readers thinking it has the same title as one of MacMillan best short stories “Sugar girl”.
I believe my exact words were, ‘I would be writing my own version of the famous MacMillan’s short story’.

And not uploading the famous MacMillan short story.

I have never pasted chapters of the MacMillan short story online, whatever I posted with the title”Raliat the sugar girl” is my own personal work, dropping latter this year. For the reason of mistaken identity (😉) lol, I would have to change the title of my book.

The little end: The unending life of a gangster

The most painful parts of been a gangster is there are no ways out of trouble, it’s either you find trouble or it finds you.

I live my life based on what I see around me, you can’t blame me for that can you?, I grew up on the streets (streets ot) of Lagos, am a born hustler.

I thought this life of mine will lead me forward, I guess am mistaken, now I have kids, am scared to look at their faces for fear of seeing myself in them.

My children all grown up now, stand side by side by my hospital bed, one of my eyes completely closed, blood liking from my one hundred and one stab wounds, this is not the life I wanted for them.

I guess I can’t choose a life for my kids, the best I can do is survive my little end and change my ways.

Sitting on the bank of river Amo I cried, if the river hadn’t been filled to the brink, my tears would have done that. I never noticed the sun had gone down hours ago, I just cried.

“It’s time for you to go home !” I jumped at the voice behind me, almost falling into the river as I turned sharply, the figure looked like Femi, “Femi ?” I asked scared to death,

“No” the figure answered with great difficulty.

“Who are you !?” I shouted back, I put a foot into the river, ready to dive in if the stranger ever took a step, as if reading my mind he stretched a hand forward “Am not going to hurt you” and moved back to give a fare amount of space between us, “My name is Michael” he said, as if sensing my change in heart he came closer. “Am a friend of your fathers” he continued, and that got him the attention he craved for.

“What about my father ?” I asked.

“Your father sent me here to protect you” he walked into the light of the moon, I held my breath, no I wasn’t ready to dive into the river, I held my breath because of the beauty standing in front of me, he has a body like rock, a blue eye, and other black, a calm and rugged looking face. An angel ?, my heart just won’t stop beating fast.

“You knew my father ?” I tried to prompt calmly, but my voice is as shaky as a leaf.

“Yes” he answered, his sweet voice telling me he wasn’t telling lies.”Am sorry about your lose”, I should be grieved but his voice calm and sweet, made it sound like a congratulations.

“Am I in any danger ?”, I was happy to hear my voice back to normal.

“None at the moment” I could sense a hint of over confidence in his word, “But first I have to get you home”, I know its stupid to trust a complete stranger so fast, but the way he spoke made me feel have known him for years.

I couldn’t look away from him as we walked side by side to my home, I didn’t hear a thing he said, apart from the times he made mention of Letter and Clues. Basically I was concentrated on his beauty not his talk.

“Do you have them ?” Michael burst into my room out of breath, I replied with a nod, “Go out through the window” he nudge me, I had barely touched the ground than he started pulling me towards the woods behind our house, I wanted to ask him a lot of questions but the look on his face, and the sound of footsteps rushing towards us changed my mind, we hid behind a giant Oak tree, silent as the night.

First there were touches, then voices, then that utterly familiar voice “Spread out, and find her, she knows something”, that voice where did I hear it from?

“Eze Nunu !” the words crept from my mind to my mouth.

Short Story: “Ralia The Sugar Girl” (Chapter 2)