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:
4th Prize: Discouragement by Omodara Ademola Bucknor
|Omodara won a copy of Twenty-One Days|
I ignored him and went over my script again. This time he was pacing up and down like a traveller marooned in the desert. I ran out of calculation sheets and I was obliged, faute de mieux, to use my question paper as rough sheet.
Far from being flustered by the minor setback, I tried again, the chances seemed bright but it was dealt a huge blow when our lecturer sauntered into the hall and announced that the answer to the compulsory question must be ±0.5. Scoring less than 40% in this examination would thwart me from graduating.
Why is this happening to me? I went on outpouring my grievances on the irksome being who couldn't help my pitiable predicament. His countenance, like that of the devil concealed in the body of the serpent that tempted Eve into committing sin.
Tears welled up in my eyes as the invigilator announced 15 more minutes. With a faint faltering voice I prayed. "Help me oh lord." The insertion of this single clause became the proverbial finger that touched me.
Like a fish doped out of deep, I became rekindled. Almighty formula, that is the correct method to use. It worked perfectly and I became so happy, my heart as light as the kiss of an angel on the cheek of a saintly soul. I lifted up my face, he has vanished. He was only a representation in human form of discouragement. In the straight contest between ‘Purpose and Hindrance,’ I have won.
I submitted and joined the league of friends basking in the euphoria of happiness recorded by the successful outcome of our final paper.
What do you think? Please leave your comments... good, bad and ugly, and they will go a long way.