FICTION — SHORT STORY
NEPA Boy
Azuka’s dark, slender fingers quivered as they clutched the pencil, his forehead creased with deep lines of focus and unease. The pencil skittered uneasily across the desk, a reflection of the whirlwind of feelings churning inside him.
His heart raced as though he had sprinted through Lagos’s bustling streets, alive with the cacophony of honking cars, angry shouts of drivers, and the distant beats of Afrobeat music drifting in the air.
Fluorescent lights cast a cold, clinical glow over the exam room, where the air hung heavy with the mingled scents of polished wood and chalk dust, each breath a reminder of the critical stakes at play.
This was it—the final WAEC exam, the culmination of his academic journey, the gatekeeper of his future dreams. He glanced at his watch and let out a heavy sigh. That morning, frustration creased his face as he prodded the dormant screen of his digital watch, a keepsake from Uncle Ambrose.
But when Azuka’s fingers brushed it, a spark of static leapt, and the watch sprang to life, its digits blinking in an odd, almost prophetic rhythm. It felt like a sign, the watch’s revival at his touch mirroring a dormant power awakening within him, a silent heartbeat echoing the revived timepiece.
Three chairs away, Glory sat, her braids tumbling like a waterfall over her shoulders, her eyes locked on the papers sprawled before her. She smoothly tucked a stray braid behind her ear, her calm hands in stark contrast to the restless tapping and twitching of others around her.
This simple gesture revealed the deep, silent strength she possessed, a strength that often became Azuka’s shelter when he found himself trapped in the storm of his father’s outbursts. Azuka’s eyes would often wander to her during their long, late-night study sessions, captivated by the unwavering focus and grace that seemed to emanate from her.
Her calm demeanour was a balm to his constant fears of never breaking free from the clutches of poverty that had smothered his childhood. In the stillness of the night, sometimes he felt a flicker of something more within himself, a spark of potential reaching beyond the pages of textbooks.
But as morning light seeped through, those dreamy thoughts scattered like mist. In those quiet moments, Azuka allowed himself to dream bigger than the cramped confines of his reality, only to be yanked back by the unforgiving truth of his life. In Lagos, dreams often get lost in the gruelling daily fight for survival.
Azuka would find himself wondering if the fire he felt inside could ever really shine in a world that seemed to cap their fates with an unyielding lid. His father’s stern words about choosing practicality over dreams would echo in his mind, chaining him back to the raw, unadorned reality of their humble existence.
Glory fought her battles in silence, her fingers lingering on the pages of her textbooks, lost in thoughts of a future she dreamed would be shared with Azuka. In the tense days before the exams, Azuka wrestled with stubborn algebraic formulas and twisted literary analyses.
His thoughts frequently drifted to missed soccer matches and his neglected comic books, now just memories of a carefree past before the burden of his future had taken root on his shoulders.
The invigilator’s sharp and clear voice cut through the thick silence: “You may begin.”
Azuka took a deep breath, pushing away distractions, and dove into the sea of questions. In that moment of deep concentration, the overhead lights flickered briefly, casting dancing shadows around him.
To Azuka, this flicker felt like a secret nod from the universe, unnoticed by all but him — a fleeting connection that mirrored the buzzing energy of his focused mind.
“Thirty minutes remaining,” the invigilator announced, her voice piercing the dense atmosphere of focus.
Azuka’s hand froze, pencil hanging mid-air, as the relentless ticking of the clock mimicked the rapid beat of his anxious heart. Time seemed to sprint beside him, pushing him through the endless questions.
He wiped away the sweat on his forehead, his mind torn between hope and fear. Stealing a glance at Glory, completely engrossed in her exam, he wondered if their futures would intertwine as he hoped.
For a moment, he reached out to her, his hand hanging in the void, before he withdrew, his eyes filled with unspoken longing. Could their dreams weave together in the threads of time?
The clock’s hands moved in harmony with Azuka’s racing heart, each tick marking the end of his academic struggles and bringing him closer to a life where he could breathe freely, dream wildly, and be with Glory without the dark cloud of exams hanging over them.
Finally, the invigilator announced the end of the torturous exam period. Azuka let go of his pencil, feeling a mix of weariness and relief wash over him. He was one step closer to the future he had poured his heart and soul into.
“Well, that was intense,” he chuckled, stepping into the crowded hallway brimming with students buzzing with anxiety.
Glory approached him, her eyes sparkling as she offered a comforting smile. “I’m sure you did great. All those late nights and hard work are about to pay off; just wait and see.”
A warm flush rose from Azuka’s neck to his cheeks, fueled by Glory’s steadfast belief in him. It stirred a blend of thankfulness and hopeful anticipation inside him. His heart danced like a bird eager to soar, lifted by her faith. “I hope you’re right. Maybe soon, I’ll join you at UNILAG.”
A week later, Azuka sat frozen in the kitchen, staring at the acceptance letter from the university. Its words seemed to dance and merge, a battleground of disbelief and joy in his mind. He fixated on the first sentence, trying to let reality sink in.
He had made it — against all odds, he was accepted to university. Years of relentless hard work had led to this moment. Gradually, a wide grin took over his face, and a laugh of pure joy escaped him, filling the empty house.
With his parents away at a distant relative’s funeral, Azuka relished the solitude. Memories of his last spat with his father lingered, the sharp words still fresh in his mind, underscoring the constant strain in their relationship.
He savoured these rare moments away from his father’s piercing gaze and short temper. Absentmindedly, he touched the faint scar on his shoulder — a lasting mark of the last time he had defied his father.
Alone in the house, a thrill of opportunity seized Azuka. Now, he could invite Glory over, free from the watchful gaze of his family. His palms slick with nervousness, he fumbled with the phone, her number a familiar dance of digits from their endless night-time conversations about calculus and classic novels.
“Hello?” Glory’s voice, soft as a breeze, fluttered through the phone.
Azuka’s heart drummed a rapid beat. “Glory, it’s Azuka. I have incredible news — I got into UNILAG!”
“Oh, Azuka, that’s amazing! I never doubted you.” Glory’s words bubbled with excitement.
Azuka pictured her smile, bright and encouraging, fueling his courage to continue. “How about celebrating tonight? Dinner at mine? I’ve got the house all to myself this weekend.” Azuka’s voice trembled slightly, his heart suspended in hope.
A brief silence lingered before her reply. “I’d be delighted to celebrate with you.”
Azuka’s fist rose in a silent cheer. “Awesome! See you at 6.”
The afternoon whirled by in a flurry of cleaning and cooking. He arranged candles throughout the living room, their glow bathing the space in a cosy light, and prepared Glory’s favourite dish — jollof rice with smoked fish.
As the clock edged towards six, Azuka wrestled with his unruly hair in the mirror, then lit the last of the candles, their flickering light promising a memorable evening.
At exactly six, a gentle knock echoed through the house. Azuka opened the door to find Glory, a vision in purple that embraced her like twilight itself. The dress swirled around her, mirroring her grace.
She stood poised, a queen ready to conquer any challenge. Her hair, plaited neatly, highlighted the elegance of her shoulders. Words deserted Azuka at the sight.
“You look beautiful.” Azuka found his voice at last.
Glory’s eyes fluttered to the floor, a soft blush colouring her cheeks. “Thank you. Something smells delicious.”
During dinner, their laughter and chatter filled the room, weaving a tapestry of comfort and ease. Azuka hung on every word from Glory, enchanted as she spoke of her dreams to pursue nursing, either at UNILAG or through another school.
Her voice, rich with hope and determination, turned the drudgery of scholarship applications into a melody of ambition. Each word she spoke, infused with her unwavering commitment, resonated with Azuka.
Their plates soon emptied, signalling the end of their meal. With a heavy heart, Azuka gathered the dishes, his mind clinging to the final moments of their shared dinner. He then joined Glory on the couch, his hand hesitating before finding hers. Her fingers entwined with his, igniting a flutter in his chest.
In the silence that followed, filled with unspoken words, they sat, fingers linked, as the day’s light faded, giving way to the serene blanket of twilight.
Without warning, darkness engulfed the room, a stark, unyielding veil that snatched away their comfort. The stifling heat enveloped them, oppressive and unrelenting. In the newfound silence, the eerie howls of stray dogs in the distance added a layer of unease.
Azuka let out a resigned sigh, the darkness a familiar intruder, courtesy of NEPA’s frequent outages, encroaching on this special night.
Azuka sensed Glory stiffen with worry next to him. “What happened to the lights?” she asked, her voice laced with anxiety.
“It’s NEPA. They’ve cut the power again,” Azuka replied, a mix of frustration and concern in his tone. “Just stay here; I’ll see if it’s something with the fuse box. It might be nothing.”
Guided by the dim light from his phone, Azuka found the fuse box clinging to the house’s exterior. A quick inspection revealed no obvious damage. Flipping the main switch back and forth brought no change, only the growing frustration within him.
Through the thin walls, the neighbour’s television buzzed, a mocking soundtrack to their plight. Azuka’s thoughts churned: Why tonight when he had longed for a perfect evening?
Frustration boiled inside Azuka, squeezing the last drops of his patience. He was determined to salvage the night, to resurrect the evening that had glowed with promise only moments ago.
Driven by impulse and desperate hope, he reached for a wire. In his mind, clouded with emotion, he believed he might shock the power back to life.
In an instant, electricity cascaded through Azuka, a torrent of raw energy that stole his breath, transforming him into a vessel for this wild force. For a fleeting moment, he merged with the storm’s core, embodying its wild, uncontrolled power. And then, there was only darkness.
Azuka’s senses slowly flickered back to life. His heart raced, pounding like a wild drum in his chest, mirroring the chaos swirling in his mind. He tried to stitch together the shattered memories of the jolt that had zapped through his body.
A cool, damp cloth lay on his forehead, soothing compared to the jarring shock he had endured. With a herculean effort, he pried open his heavy eyelids. Above him, Glory’s face swam into view, etched with worry.
“Wha … what happened?” Azuka’s voice was barely a whisper.
“You got shocked touching the wires. I heard you yell and saw you collapse. You’ve been out for almost 10 minutes.” Her voice trembled, still laced with lingering fear.
Azuka blinked, trying to clear the haze clouding his thoughts. As he struggled to sit up, feeling every muscle complain, he noticed, to his surprise, that the lights were back on.
Confusion swirled inside him. The room was bathed in light again, but how? His hands shook, overwhelmed not just by the shock but by the sheer impossibility of what had happened.
A heavy silence hung in the air, broken only by the humming of the restored power. Azuka wrestled with the strangeness of what had happened. The cosy evening warmth was now overshadowed by a cold realisation: something inside him had changed deeply.
A soft clatter from above caught Azuka’s attention. He looked at the lone bulb swinging from the ceiling. He thought, almost pleading, “Imagine it turning off.” His mind was a swirl of desperation and doubt.
Incredibly, the bulb snapped off with a pop, casting the room into darkness. Shocked, Azuka imagined the light on again. Instantly, it flickered to life, casting a soft, gentle glow.
“Azuka, are you okay?” Glory asked, her voice full of worry.
“I’m alright, just a little dizzy,” he whispered back.
Inside, his thoughts were tumbling, trying to make sense of his newfound ability. A rush of unexpected emotions swept over Azuka. He had controlled the light bulb with just his mind, a silent command turning darkness into light. Could he really have the power to control electricity and shape it with just his thoughts?
Glory glanced towards the window, the dark night peering in. “I need to head back; it’s getting late. The streets aren’t safe at night.” She wanted to stay with Azuka, but she knew she had to go home.
Azuka nodded, feeling pangs at the thought of saying goodbye. “I’ll walk with you a bit, just to make sure you’re safe.”
The moment they stepped outside, the air crackled around them as if buzzing with Azuka’s inner transformation. Azuka, vigilant, held Glory’s arm in a firm, protective grip, guiding her over the treacherous roads.
A sigh of relief escaped him, one he didn’t know he was suppressing, as they reached the safe fringes of her neighbourhood.
Under the soft, milky light of a street lamp, they faced each other. Azuka tenderly cupped Glory’s face, his fingers tracing her features as if trying to etch this moment into his memory forever.
“Thank you for tonight.” Glory’s voice barely rose above a murmur, her words floating between them just before their lips met in a hesitant, fleeting kiss. Their embrace tightened, each second stretching to delay their farewell.
Eventually, Glory eased out of his arms, each step away hesitant, her eyes lingering on him before turning to fade into the night. Azuka watched, rooted to the spot, until her figure merged with the shadows, her warmth still lingering like a ghost on his skin.
As Azuka began to turn towards home, sudden, raucous shouts ripped through the calm night. His stomach twisted into knots when five men, reeking of ogogoro, stumbled out of an alley. One of them yanked Glory back, drawing her into their circle that now surrounded Azuka.
The largest of the men, with a menacing leer, staggered towards them. “What are you two lovebirds up to this late?” he slurred.
Azuka’s voice quivered slightly as he responded, “Please, we just want to get by without trouble.”
Suddenly, another man lunged forward, shoving Azuka with a rough hand. “Hold up there. Turn out your pockets. Give us all you have.”
Azuka’s voice wavered, “We don’t have anything valuable,” as panic clawed at his throat.
Unconvinced, the thieves forcefully pushed Azuka and Glory against a nearby brick wall, their hands searching aggressively. Finding nothing, the leader’s gaze shifted to Glory, his eyes darkening with a mix of greed and malice.
“You’ll pay another way then,” he sneered, gripping Glory’s wrist tightly in his large, rough hand. Her cry of pain cut through Azuka, sharp and sudden, like a knife to the heart.
Instinctively, Azuka sprang into action, thrusting the man back from Glory with a burst of raw power. The moment his hands touched the attacker, a fierce energy shot from his palms. The man screamed, pain contorting his face, before collapsing to the ground, unconscious.
The others stared at Azuka, mouths agape, shocked by the swift downfall of their leader. Azuka, seizing the moment of disbelief, turned to Glory with urgency in his eyes.
“Run! Go home quickly!” he urged. But Glory stood rooted, her fear evident, her eyes flicking frantically between Azuka and the stunned men.
“Go!” Azuka’s voice shattered, his words half-command, half-beg. Glory’s eyes widened, brimming with unspoken questions. Then, with a last desperate look, she bolted into the shadows, her cheeks wet with tears.
The thieves converged on Azuka, fury burning in their eyes after his unexpected strike on their leader. One lunged forward, hurling a massive fist towards Azuka’s head. Azuka dodged, feeling the fist’s breeze tangle his hair.
Another thug’s punch skimmed his temple, but the attacker yelped, jolted by a sudden shock, and collapsed to the ground.
The remaining two, sensing weakness, pounced like wild animals. Their fists hammered against Azuka’s defences, only to reel back as jolts of raw electricity coursed through them, sending them to the ground one after the other.
Panting, Azuka surveyed the alley, now a battlefield strewn with bodies. Confusion clouded his mind as he sprinted home, his heart pounding. He burst through his door and collapsed against it, struggling to catch his breath.
Now, a mysterious force surged within him, unexplained and bewildering. Questions churned in his mind: How did this power come to be? What would it spell for his life — a life he’d always seen as a path marred by struggles and lack? Most importantly, how would this change his dreams of a life with Glory?
In the quiet of the night, Azuka lay restless, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts about Glory and their uncertain future together. The silence around him contrasted sharply with the loud, racing thoughts about his unexplained powers.
As he gazed at the ceiling, his hands in front of him appeared alien, as if they were not his own. These hands, now bearers of a mysterious destiny, felt disconnected from the simple life he had known.
Overwhelmed by fatigue, Azuka sank deeper into his bed. Yet sleep dodged him, his mind wrestling with what to reveal to Glory. She might have seen the inexplicable way he subdued those men. He yearned to protect her from this bewildering change; she was meant for a life of simplicity, not one tangled in the unknown.
Eventually, Azuka drifted into a sea of restless dreams. Here, he saw fragments of a possible future — their lives intertwined like threads in a delicate weave, her bravery merging with his peculiar ability.
In these dreams, they emerged as harbingers of change, igniting hope in others’ hearts. Even with an unclear road before them, his faith in Glory’s steadfast spirit shone bright, guiding them through the shadows of uncertainty.
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