Category Archives: Short Stories

“Write Now” Second Edition Magazine is out now.


It is my delight to announce to you here that “Write Now” Second edition Magazine is out now and launched here in Uyo.

Thanks to all Write Now fellows, lovers of Badiru Kehinde and his works. You can get a digital copy for free through this link Write Now Creative Writing CDS Project-March 2018

This edition contains the literary works of some of the selected students from the over 150 who were taught on how to write creatively.

“Write Now” (A Creative Writing Workshop) will be in Lagos soon and we will be touring from one school to another.

Stay tuned and keep on loving African Literature. God Bless You.

Nigeria to the world


Badiru Kehinde

#youthempowerment #nigeria #literature #poetry #fiction #drama

Write Now Creative Writing CDS Project-March 2018


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Just yesterday when American singer and songwriter Bob Dylan was awarded the Nobel Prize in literature, questions have been raised on the basis of selection which traditionally is supposed to be focused on fiction writers, poets and playwrights. These were literary expressions which used to be criterias for awarding this prize.

PM News wrote, “He is the first American to win since the novelist Toni Morrison, in 1993. The announcement, in Stockholm, came as something of a surprise. Although Mr. Dylan, 75, has been mentioned often as having an outside shot at the prize, his work does not fit into the literary canons of novels, poetry and short stories that the prize has traditionally recognized”. Although, the award has had its way into Africa through winners like our very own Wole Soyinka, Nigeria (1986) with Camus, Albert Algeria (1957), Maathai, Wangari Kenya (2004)
Theiler, Max South Africa (1951, Luthuli, Albert John South Africa (1960). However, Senior research fellow at The University of Ibadan, Institute of African studies, Dr. Senayon Olaoluwa wrote, “The Nobel Prize for Literature has refused to come Africa’s way again…wahala no dey…It’s good news for popular culture, anyway. Congratulations to Bob Dylan!”.

Similarly Literary scholar, Dr. Rotimi Fasan  has this to say; “Do you still wonder whether it’s scholarly to see poetry in Dagrin, 9ice or P Square to say nothing of Sunny Ade?  When some wondered if African oral forms are worthy of the name literature, can such people tell us why an American folk singer can or  should be awarded a major prize in literature. Expand your definition of literature and the literary which is not necessarily only what you were taught inside the four walls of a school”

This goes to say that literature today is changing and the walls which it used to be trapped are basically expanding. If a folk singer can be awarded a Nobel Prize, an Hip-hop artist,Country, soul,smoothjazz or jazz music could also someday. One battle the African continent had to fight was the renegotiation of the fact that Africa had her indigenous oral forms which the west have tried on several occasions to debunk. Well  I’m watching out for the likes of Brenda Russel, Drake, Adele, The Weekend, Solange, Rihana, Brian Cubertson, John Mayer, Jonathan Butler, Anita Baker,  etc to probably get an award someday. LOL just a take. Consider our very own Sunny Ade, the musical legend who just celebrated his 70th birthday. Essays are being received by the centre of African studies, University of Ibadan in order to celebrate the legend.  It’s an exploration of the intersection between Juju music and literature and the aesthetics each of these artises dedicate to their musical art. This supports the claim that there is a need to see literature differently.

It’s not new that the study of literature in the scholarly sense of it has left the pages of the three genres, what we have today is a cross breed of genres, a mix of these traditional forms even with the recent digital and new media devices which we have at our finger tips today. The study of literature today is becoming a honeymoon, a bed of roses and really something to live with, in and for.

©Badiru Kehinde
(Poet, Essayist, Fiction Writer, Grad. Student, Osun Student University)
(Badagry) 14/10/16
Drop your comments

“AUGUST 8” A Short Story By Badiru Kehinde

*AUGUST 8* A Short Story…
*** ‘You better come and open this door now or I’ll blow your head up, Skibo I go waste this people oooo’, this, one of the robbers said while peering into the window of the room where Ednihek and his brother slept. His voice was as thick as that of an ex convict in Harelm. Ednihek and Abala were dead asleep, even the weather had so made their sleep so graceful. The night was mild but the rainfall was such an epic that just wouldn’t stop. Still enjoying their dreamland, Abala could hear the shouts from behind the window, ‘Abi this people deaf ni’, come and open the door, we are here’. Abala who is much younger quickly woke up in fear and anxiety giving his elder brother, Ednihek a punch on his face, probably that would make him arise from his useless sleep and realize they are actually not sleeping alone and have ‘visitors of the night waiting to enter into their palace of robbery’. That was just August 3rd; Abala quickly left the room for his dad’s who has already woken up scavenging for the cutlass in the storehouse. The visitors were in already, pouncing on Mr. Alani their father who was not quick to find the cutlass. Voices filled the room, Abala, Ednihek , their two sisters and a cousin with mum were all marched like the German fleet to the living room.

*** Not much was stolen, just a key holder Ednihek had bought a night before, a palm slipper(s) he also bought to wear in 5 days time; August 8 later for his Post UTME in the prestigious OAU, Abala’s Play Station 2 was also carted away, and surprisingly no one would ever imagine that gentlemen of the night also get bored and find pleasure in playing video games. The ‘Psalm 23’ Abala was reciting for over a thousand times in his heart did not make him more concerned about his PS 2 that would no longer be his anymore in few hours. Mr. Alani’s pant trousers and shoes were stolen also, their Mum also hid the money meant for Ednihek’s Post UTME underneath the bed which was stolen anyway. Pelumi and Oyinda, the eldest of the girls were almost raped but thank God for mum’s intervention and motivational speech; ‘Please they are little girls, they are on their period’. Shadow as he’s called by his fellow robbers who appeared already pulling his trouser shouted; ‘Shoroninyen’

****Still reviving from the trauma of that night, Ednihek puts his luggages in order, his father spoke; ‘You have to manage yourself ooo when you get to OAU campus, find where to sleep when you are through with your exam, you know the thieves took all the money I reserved for AUSGUST 8 which is your day of Post Utme. Ednihek was seen almost looking like a refugee, ‘Driver mi o duro ni Mayfare ooo, Campus ni maa ti bole’. The driver scolds,’ Bole bayii oo, mi oo lo campus ooo’. Seemingly confused, Ednihek alighted at the Campus gate with his big travelling box around 9:45am from Iyana-Ipaja, Lagos. Obviously it was his first visit to the State of Osun as he looked carelessly like a window shopper lost in ‘Shop Rite’. He could see other students bigger and some even smaller than he is. He really didn’t know where he’s headed to and his exam is in the next 1 hour. He stopped a ‘poff poff’ seller to buy 50 naira own, at least that should carry him for some while. Today, AUGUST 8 is a day he has envisaged and fantasized about, and would not let the remembrance of the robbery on his family 5 days ago spoil the fun, the thought of how he’ll destroy the questions in the exam hall, how he’ll likely meet the girl of his dreams. He sits meticulously while observing the big girls and big boys as they pass by. He could count several cars which had in it a man, supposedly a father driving on the left hand and a small boy or girl his height at the left. Without doubt, they were also Post UME candidates whose parents will not risk leaving them coming to OAU alone. ‘Hey Ednihek, waoh! So you’re here too, nice to see you’, it was the voice of one of his mates from the tutorial centre where he prepared for the exam. ‘Okay Tade, takia, break a leg in the hall oooo’, Ednihek said laughing as he waved at the runaway angel. As he turned to leave, he looked left and his eyes caught a beautiful mistress who was talking over there with another guy, she was laughing so much, probably the guy was the reason. Ednihek felt jealous feeling he was the reason for her laughter. After several minutes of contemplation, he summoned courage to get in between the union. ‘Hey’ Ednihek said, clustering in between the two of them. Watch it boy, what’s your problem, don’t you have manners’, the mistress said. Ednihek felt shut in the mouth and stammered; ‘I…I….I was about to say….’. The other guy replied swiftly, ‘say what’. ‘I mean…’ replied Ednihek. As he moved to and fro trying to articulate his words, he realized the head of his belt had disbanded from the belt, his trouser fell slowly towards the ground, he quickly supports it with his hands taking to his heels for a safe haven where he could fix the head of the belt once and for all and afterwards go back to the fish he just caught. The girl and the boy laughed their asses out. Every corner he turned to that appeared silent had an average of 15 students chatting together…

GLOSSARY: ‘Poff Poff; a pidgin name for a snack made from flour
Translation of the Yoruba used: ‘Driver mi o duro ni Mayfare ooo’(Driver I’ll not alight at Mayfair {a place in Ife, Osun})
‘Campus ni maa ti bole’ (I’ll alight at the campus). The driver scolds,’ Bole bayii oo, mi oo lo campus ooo’ (Alight here, I won’t get to the campus)
NB: What inspired this story is my decision to dedicate a Piece to every POST UTME Candidate of 2015 who’s writing their Post UTME today for OAU…4 Years ago was my own experience too…
This is based on a true life story…Go back to the entire story, Re-write EDNIHEK from the back, Re-write ABALA from the back and see who it is…LOL Do you get it

Thanks for reading
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Short Story: ‘CONCEALMENT’ by Badiru Kehinde

Short Story: ‘CONCEALMENT’ by Badiru Kehinde

‘Like the rays of the sunlight,you colour my world….
Putting me in a trance from misery to ecstasy,
Melted by your love…for this day I am yours and you are mine;though life had cheated me…

Out of my mouth came these words as I held Abbey’s hands,caught between mixed feelings of love,nostalgia and downcast.My parents could not witness the day they have always told me to wait patiently for.My feelings were sour and accompanied by the whirling wind,so deem a night,desolate and dark.One could easily see the fireflies and hear the nocturnal bats echo.I turned,facing the window.The brightness of the moon could imitate the brightness of the diamond ring on my finger.It was just past 9pm,our wedding day.Not long,we were escorted home,a sub-urb of Ogba,Lagos state.
The memories hurt,remembering my parents being buried at our home town;Ede,a village in Osun state.Indeed,my world was torn apart.I was just 15 years old,with no other sibling,just one relative;popularly called madam Florence at Jakande area of Okokomaiko,Lagos state.She’s popular with her guest house business.Other family memebers decided I relocated to her place.She made my life look like a tragic whirlwind.She’d tell our olori-ebi;’Folake is doing fine and having a better life here in the city’.If maltreatment,starvation,molestation and exposition to prostitution was the definition of a good life,then the dictionary would have had a revised edition.A day did not pass by without the male genital organ seeing my nudity,an ordeal I struggled with.
Abbey was a different man.I thought I’d never love and trust any man again,but he was different.’Honey,what’s it,you were a thousand miles far away in thought.Tonight is our night,let’s make it happen’;He said as he made his way towards me.My tear drop fell on his hands as he tried to kiss me.I was in a dilemma whether to just tell him or keep it concealed.I hadn’t told him about my past experience on sensuality,it’s the only thing I made him bereft of.I made my way to the bed sitting at the down-side left of it.’Is there anything you are not telling me’,He asked inquisitively.
The words were lost in my mouth,I couldn’t find them,I couldn’t envisage how he’d handle it….Barely had I spoken,when he caressed me.The rest was history…

NB: This Short Story was sent in as an entry in the 2014 Etisalat Prize for Flash Fiction Contest.
NB: It first appeared on Hub201 website via http://www.hub201/concealment/

Badiru Kehinde Copywright 2015

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