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Young Writers Society


E - Everyone

Juju: A Tribute

by Temi


#BringBackOurGirls

When bad things happen in succession, our people say, ‘‘Na Juju dey worry us’’.

-Bunie Arah

The afternoon was clear, clear in the head; clear in the skies. No sign... If only the skies could turn bloody red when danger chooses to visit. But alas, the Divine knows how he orchestrates mother-nature. For if the sky could be our sign for danger approaching then it would never be blue. It would never be clear.

We walked to class, just us girls, using our bags as shade oblivious to whatever signs in whichever form, existed. Maybe because everything was a sign. Maybe because everyday hundreds die and are slaughtered in perfect tune to the whims of an inhumane being; a useless excuse for a human. I guess when death accompanies you in procession, you become hardened to the melody of life. Amidst all this, we have to face exams. Today is Physics. How does the brain succumb to calculations, when it has had to force the hand to mop up the blood of a loved one the day before? It’s funny, that the questions could get to us! With the presence of terror, the North is practically a ghost town. Why should anyone care? It’s the North, they are backward, so let them kill each other. ‘’Hafsat, focus we’re in class already’’. I look at my friend absent-mindedly devoid of any sense of time.

I heard a crunch sound like skull cracking on cement. I thought it nothing, probably Aisha grinding her teeth to keep calm; apparently that helps. I look at my questions with rapt attention, trying to make sense of it all. However, there was an eerie silence, a silence beyond the fear of examinations. I knew this silence. I saw it yesterday, I was its host. I look up and see my teacher sprawled on the floor in a pool of blood with a gash sitting gallantly on his forehead. I look around and every girl had already called upon their own silence to inhabit them. No screech, not even a whimper, just pure acceptance. I look to the door and knew why. By the door is a man dressed in Islamic garb and military uniform with a machine gun hung over his shoulders and a machete dripping with blood; the ground happy to add a shade of innocence to its skin. For a moment, my eyes linger on this machete, with fresh blood plastered gingerly against layers of dried blood, mocking me as if to say my blood will find its place smugly amidst those layers; all in due time...

For now, Sambisa beckons upon our souls, hungry to be our home. The Jihadists are setting us free now; who said we were ever abducted? Right? Leave me be. I know nothing anymore...


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10 Reviews


Points: 464
Reviews: 10

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Sun Jun 08, 2014 3:45 am
MissAtomicBomb wrote a review...



This piece isn't like most I've seen. It is a real, raw experience and it engulfs the reader in the actual scene. The descriptions are very good as well. My favorite is the description of the blood on the blood on the ground.

"...the ground happy to add a shade of innocence to its skin."

I have also always enjoyed when a writer mixes the region's original language into the story

All together, the story was intense and had a strong message. I liked it a lot. Keep up the good work.




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7 Reviews


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Wed May 28, 2014 7:32 pm
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Your writing is awesome and flawless. Your comparisons and description of the situation is so vivid and elaborate that makes it so powerful. Keep up the good work!




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50 Reviews


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Wed May 28, 2014 3:06 pm
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beeyaay says...



i can't speak of anything!
Bee
PS: this is too good.




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Wed May 28, 2014 2:48 pm
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Hannah wrote a review...



Temi. Thank you.

I was grateful for this writing from the moment this line passed through me:

For if the sky could be our sign for danger approaching then it would never be blue. It would never be clear.


This, too, is gorgeous and haunting:

I look around and every girl had already called upon their own silence to inhabit them.


Flawlessly worded. And that ending paragraph is so full of a multitude of feelings. It seems to shift with every sentence, but each moment is as genuine as the next and the one before. These three moments, especially, are very well-written and successful in what they aim to do.

Of course, there are places where the writing might be improved, I think. I'll share them with you and we'll see if we can't polish up the rest of the work to match the radiance of my favorite three parts.

The second paragraph sort of strays from the intensity you set the work up with when it gets to talking in generalizations about the situation. The general "you" get hardened to life, "hundreds" die -- it's a summary of the situation and as a summary it's necessarily distanced from the details. But there are so many accounts of this life, this event, this tragedy, that are distanced from the details. When you can hit the details so finely as you do, why move away from them?

I think the discussion about how can we even consider using our brains for exams when the previous day we mopped up blood? -- I think that is effective in showing the feeling of the sentences that precede it. It's like you're saying the same thing twice: once stating, once showing, and we only really need the showing.

I respect your decision to try to keep the description of gore and violence in a passive voice, so that it is not a sensational moment and doesn't glorify the blood, but presents it. I think, however, that you could use a more active tone or sense to describe the scene more clearly, to the standard that was set when we watched the solid details of girls carrying bags over their heads to block the shade, the desks where they sat to take exams, the sound of the crunching and the concrete thought of a classmate grinding their teeth.

It might help to focus on trying to widen and create the space of the classroom. There's an image of a man at the door, but that just brings the reader's sight to the door. How can we swoop through the room so we get the height of the ceiling, the feeling of being trapped in the room with the bodies of the other girls around us, the wall behind us, the front of the room -- how can you get us to feel like we're present in a place? I think it would help to present that scene.

I hope all these thoughts are helpful to you if you choose to edit and revise this. Even if you don't, thank you for bringing such beautiful moments to life and sharing them with us. You and your writing are important and excellent.

PM me or reply here if you have any questions/comments about my review.
Good luck and keep writing.

Hannah




Temi says...


Wow! This is profound... I think one major answer to your reservations is the fact that I rushed the work. I usually don't write stories because I prefer poems. Thus, there was uncertainty for me from the beginning to the end of the creative process. I felt like I was treading on a strange land without knowing the rules of the natives. I do understand very much that by giving more time to it, it could become flesh rather than the skeleton it is now. So, I am very grateful for the review and it truly means a lot!



Hannah says...


I just happened across your poem on the same topic and you really work wonders with language. I hope that you continue bringing your poetic sensibilities into prose, because I feel like it's the best of both words: the clear narrative of a forward-moving prose piece, and the deeper, emotional connection of poetic phrases that hit just right. :)



Temi says...


Thank you Hannah! I will definitely learn the customs of the natives!




No person can be a great leader unless he takes genuine joy in the successes of those under him.
— W. A. Nance