Wednesday, November 18, 2015

NYSC Writing Contest: 3rd Prize

Hello everyone,

As mentioned in my last post on my visit to the NYSC camp, I organised a writing contest for Corps members to test their creative juices, get recognition, and also get some little change to spend in mami market :).

If you don't know what mami market is or what the NYSC and the camp are, then you should probably get a copy of my book "Twenty-One Days" and experience it.

Anyway, Corps members were invited to send in their short stories of not more than 300 words, within four days. There was no theme, so they needed to be creative... and their stories needed to be a complete story, and not a prelude or an introduction to another story.

We received tons of entries for the contest, and our judges went through them thoroughly. Although the judges noted that ALL the stories were not really up to par, were not creative, lacked imagination, and needed a lot of improvement, they were still able to pick the top four... they had to so that the prizes would be awarded.

So here goes:
3rd Prize: The Pride of Motherhood by Godswill Chukuyenum

Godswill got a copy of Twenty-One Days and 2,000 Naira
In Bornu state, during the boko haram bomb strike early this year, people went about their activities in fear because they had lost their loved ones rudely; some died and some maimed forever while some found it difficult to comprehend the reason why people should suffer for something they knew nothing about. It was a case of ''when two elephants fight the grass suffers''.

The oppressors were pressing harder, making sure that the oppressed were pushed to accept defeat and surrender as soon as possible.

On this fateful evening, the oppressed villagers had been bombed in the morning and people were still trying to come to terms with the loss of their loved ones and property when the sound of another bomb plane was heard. People scampered leaving everything behind.

A little boy was left by his mother, he stood there not knowing what to do, screamed, and called out to his mother ''Maama!!!'' with tears rolling down his cheeks. His mother had run as fast as her legs could take her. Suddenly, she realised that her son was not with her, she paused and decided to go back for his rescue.

While this was happening, the terrorist who was appointed to drop the bomb was moved to pity this little child. He just kept hovering, tears rolled down his cheeks when he saw the child's mother running back to be with her child not minding that the two of them could be killed. She ran to her child, bent and encircled him.

The bomber watched this, cried, and remembered his childhood, and echoed ''The pride of motherhood.''

At that point, he damned everything and never dropped the bomb.


What do you think? Please leave your comments... good, bad and ugly, and they will go a long way.

Literarily Yours.,

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