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Mama said I am a pretty girl. She says that anytime she touched my hair which was every time. Mama said I would be her hero; I thought it was supposed to be the other way round. Do not conform to the things of the world. Mama said that every morning. Mama said men were created by God but lost direction and purpose; mama said men just wanted a woman’s body for pleasure and for the primary reason of counting scores. Mama wept whenever she tongue lashed the man she called my father; she always said he was a bastard with so much energy and thrilling emotional fumes that I could barely muster courage to ask if this man was alive. Men are evil so stay far away from them; they would be watching you till you begin to mature into a voluptuous belle. Only then would they try to fill your head with lies upon lies so long as they eat your instrument of value. Mama said these words whilst buttoning my school uniform.

Nkiru, my very good friend, saw me from a distance and ran for the usual big hug. Her mom was exactly like mine and Nkiru was fast becoming like her mom. All she wanted to do was prove men wrong, she clearly wanted to be better than the boys in our class. She was a hater of boys and saw any slight advances as a cue to brainwashing her β€” Itoro would never forget the legion of slaps he got for simply dusting the patent stain on her white blouse. Cruel world was our catch phrase. The men are the world of course. They are more hostile than Lucifer. Nkiru with her piercing rhetorics and commanding arguments, made me see men as indeed cruel.

Mama said I always had her and so should weep no more whenever I was scolded to talking not to a boy. I was 17 and could boast of similar breasts just as the pumped silicone augmentation of Nicki Minaj. Mama went on with tales of how men went to school and women forced into the kitchen. She always said this. Mama said she was, as many other beautiful girls, sex materials mated by hungry pintles with emphasis on pintle. Mama said they never wanted the sex but a refusal of a manhood was acceptance of corporal punishment with our face covering nakedness open to every Dick and Harry. Mama said I should say no to oppression and I should fight with my last blood, the men that have the habit of flinging women to the other room. Mama was a very successful woman and only yesterday did I get a detailed reason for her boom. Mama said she killed her husband when I was 5. Mama said she smashed his head with her heels until it was severed from the red shoe and horrifically pierced in his head. But she did it for a reason, Papa wanted to deflower me. He was indeed a beast. I love you sweetie. Mama said with a leaking eyes. We embraced and it was becoming bizarre as her breasts swelled not. Was she okay? Mama had died with her hands and body still insisting on a hug. She left me without a goodbye, but she left me with one too many a charge. I cried.

Chukwudi was one good friend of mine. We kissed once during prom though I always claimed to be a tipsy sight that day. I was then drained and needed to get the comfort of someone. Nkiru had phone issues so my best shot was definitely Chukwudi. He came after I summarized how Mama died. He seemed to have the craft of rubbing the back of a troubled lady until she has her nerves calm. A second after was a different thing. He started to cuddle me and permit his hands take a hike just under my short skirt. I surely gave his hand a disgruntled slap but he showed his interests even more with hotter slaps on my face and blows on my breast. I had my last underwear in my bag so as the struggle for preservation of dignity ensued, I was after my skirt, unprotected. He spat on my face after a successful ruin of my skirt. He tied my hands and legs while his video camera did some good job. Two of his friends came in and all they did was go rounds till I puked. They beat me afterwards for what they tagged being a cheap whore. Chukwudi said I was a weak bitch who if he were me, would leak his sores and go recluse except of course I want him to have the video viral. They left me in pieces the same day mama left in peace. Mama said I am a pretty girl, mama said men are evil, mama said I should always show I am better of, Mama said I should spit on their grave. 

(At the bar. A heart to heart talk with every female)
So I am a feminist. What did you just say about it? 

                                       OKOCHA OBED



My name is Okocha Obed, you can call me Obeezy. I love to display aesthetics through my inkβ€”I must say writing is my small world. I consider myself a deep writer; I say I am deep because I have discovered that part about myself, even, my fabulous audience share same view. I believe in connecting to all kind of persons as there is always something to learn from everyone. I see myself as an actor; to stay on the stage, I need to think ink. The voice is a reflection of myself and my conscience. I always felt I could be like superman while growing up. It was pretty ridiculous so all I did was dream of being a soldier. It was abortive. So I created a world where I could keep talking about the ills in my community but with other flavours to show I am growing into completeness. keep reading.

16 thoughts on “MAMA SAID (A FLASH)

    1. Lol…the piece is just an eye opener to my formal address on one very crucial controversial issue on feminism coming real soon.

      Please keep reading blood…thanks once more.


  1. I like it when people paint d most cruel experiences like dis to enlighten the populace on how various inhumane things have become the order of d day. when u seek comfort but instead receive added sores.
    this is truly d pain of many pole one way or the other.
    keep on preaching these gospel
    and don’t quit being the true VOICE OF THE VOICELESS MASSES.
    nice write up bro

    Liked by 1 person

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