“Where did you go on exile?” Darlington asked, deciding to strip the journalist out of his tone, to keep it respectful, though more to his own ears than Max’s, who did not seem to care. What more, Max – Darlington finally could place it - spoke the Queen's English, so Darlington couldn't possibly tell what measured as respectful in the ears of a nonagenarian who spoke the Queen's English.
I usually walked to the station like something that has been spat out - if such a thing could walk. Events at home were not the reason for this. I had no early morning fights with the wife which I could point the finger at or premonitions about the day which I could blame. I simply felt that way.
She had carried Achieni in her palms when she was born, the size of a small dehusked coconut, premature. She knew then looking at her tiny eyelids, nose and mouth that she would love her. That something good had come out from her, from the evil that went into her.
She knew then looking at her tiny eyelids, nose and mouth that she would love her. That something good had come out from her, from the evil that went into her.
My name is Ogbenta Ugboelu. I am a freedom fighter....
Ogenna Ojukwu 