Archive | February 2014

A Little Bird Said – The Finale

The Write Right Two Prize Giving is finally here. See the details below

  • Venue: Ember Creek, Awolowo Road, Ikoyi
  • Date: Sunday, March 9th 2014
  • Time: 3Pm to 6PM.

Red Carpet begins at 3PM and the event proper kicks off at 4PM.

There’ll be a song written based on the winning entry. The song is titled WEWE, and it’s written and performed by guitarist Femi Leye and vocalist Nayo.

There’ll also be a painting based on the same winning entry by Ekene Ngige. We’ll be auctioning this at the event.

Vintage fashion label Ma’am will give a free specially made bespoke outfit to Ifeoluwa Watson, the Write Right Two Winner. Ife will also be reading from her winning story.

Finally, we’ll be premiering Baba Risi’s Court, The Animated Episodes at the event.

To attend, simply save the IV below as your e-invite to the event. Hope to see y’all there. Thanks for all the support for Write Right.


Esmeralda had come to the house envisaging a full day of erotic frolicking. When she had seen the picturesque house, fairytales sprung into her head and she smiled. The lady she knew only as RC1 had completed the picture that left her salivating. With a smile, RC1 had led her into the single living space. There was a bed in the middle of the room, with white satin sheets, red rose petals scattered all over and scented candles.

“Like it?” she heard RC1 ask. She must have let out some unconscious shriek, she was certain. But she glad she had agreed to come here instead of her hotel room? In the corner, there was a raised platform. At the head of the table was an assortment of erotic toys. RC1 picked a pair of leather padded handcuffs and then patiently began to explain what they would do.

“Here’s how the day will go. You are my slave for the first half of the day. You’ll wear these handcuffs and for starters, I’ll use these leg restraints to strap you to the platform. I will be at liberty to do anything with you and you’ll have to work your way to freedom by giving me every pleasure I desire. The better you are, the quicker you’ll win your freedom from your restraints and then become the master and I the slave. Am I clear?”

Esmeralda nodded like an obedient child, enthralled by the whole arrangement. She moved towards RC1 to hug her but was rebuffed her with a shove. “Who permitted you to touch me slave?”

It took a while for it to sink into Esmeralda that they were already in the role playing game. Obediently, she backed away.

“Good girl. Now, get into the lingerie on the platform and I’ll slip the handcuffs on you and strap you on to the platform.”


Acharu arrived at the cottage and retrieved her phone. She had made up two plans in her mind, depending on which of she or Morkly arrived first. She was glad she got here before him, it was the easier scenario. She called up his text message and quickly typed a response to him, instructing him on what to do when he got there. She moved quickly after that, since she didn’t know exactly how long she had before he arrived. She dialed the number she had sent the first text message to and the lady on the other end picked it on the first ring.

“What’s up?” the lady said

“I just got here, I’m at the gate. Do you have her immobilized now?” Acharu asked.

“Yes,” the lady responded.

“Good. I’ll let myself in then. We’re going to have an extra guest at the party. The nutty professor himself is on his way. But I’ve got an appropriate welcome planned for him anyway, so that shouldn’t be an issue. Prepare the restraints for the man”.

With that, she ended the call and looked over at the sleeping man. “We’re back together, you and I, as it should have been.” Then she went down to open the gate and drove in right to the front door of the cottage.


It was a good thing he wasn’t driving otherwise he would not have been able to read the text message when it came in. “Ah, she finally got to read my text,” he mumbled to himself when he saw the ID of the sender. He opened it quickly. It was in short, terse sentences, outlining a plan.

“Got your text, great work. We’ll proceed without Senayon. Headed there with men from HQ. They’ll secure the premises while I wait for you by my car. Come Quickly”

Quickly she said. He had been in the traffic at Lekki Toll Gate for more than thirty minutes and it seemed he was only halfway through it. “Billions of blistering bumbling bickering blasted blue barnacles! And that autocrat of a governor has banned okadas. That would have been my saving grace now” he exclaimed in anger. He slumped in the chair and adjusted his neck scarf.


“Are we expecting someone?” Esmeralda ventured. She was meant to be the obedient slave, speaking only when spoken to, but if someone else was going to be involved in whatever plans her madam had for her, she thought she should know.

“Shut your dirty little mouth” the lady responded to her.

Unsure if it was merely the character of the madam that had spoken to her or the real RC1, she decided to clarify.

“I’m not asking as the slave dear, I’m asking as me. I just think I should know if…” The pain registered before her mind deciphered that RC1 had just tasered her. She found herself twitching uncontrollably.

“I said shut your husband-hopping dirty mouth!” The lady spoke calmly, but every word was loaded with menace, amplified by the fact that she was tied up, helpless. She opened her mouth, took a huge gulp of air into her lungs and screamed at the top of her voice. The lady waited for her to exhaust herself and then told her with a devilish chuckle “you can scream all you want, but I’m sure you remember how this house looked as you came in. Only the trees will hear you. You are dense, you know that? Anyway, give me a moment.”

With that, she straightened her dress, brushed her hair and went to the door.


From the hole in the fuzzy realm he was floating in, Senayon heard a familiar voice scream. The scream was like a powerful hand pulling him up at breakneck speed and he suddenly burst into the surface of the hole.


“Sumbo, where the hell are you? He’s stirring. We need to get him inside and immobilized before he wakes up fully!” Acharu shouted.

She saw her partner was all dressed up. “Vain girl” she thought, remembering the first time she had met this girl. Sumbo had been a broken girl after her breakup with Charles Obaro. She had been the strong one who helped Sumbo recover from the breakup in the self-help group they belonged to. But as if to reverse the situation, she had fed off Sumbo’s anger at men. One evening, they had watched an episode of Deadly Affairs on Crime and Investigation together and all of this Ring Collector business had started as a joke until Sumbo suddenly said “you know we can pull this off and get back at all of them that hurt us?”


Esmeralda watched in horror as the two women carried a man that looked vaguely familiar in. she couldn’t see well because of the way she was lying down. “Who is he?” she asked.

“Oww, you’ve forgotten the man you bore a child for so soon?” Sumbo asked.

“Senayon? What is this about? Answer me!” Esmeralda asked desperately struggling with her restraints.

Acharu answered this time as Sumbo prepared a syringe with the same substance she had used on their second victim. “Senayon was supposed to be mine, but you had him. Charles did to Sumbo what Fuad did to me. And you my dear did the nasty to Senayon with that pastor and then left him for the baba olowo.”

As Emeralda heard the names, she realized what was happening. These were the people responsible for all those gruesome murders she had read about on the blogs. But all their victims had been men. “So why do you want to kill Senayon then?”

“Why do you assume we want to kill Senayon?” Sumbo asked.

It dawned on Esmeralda that she was the one. She screamed again as they propped a Senayon who looked awake and perceptive but otherwise immobile up against the wall.

“Senayon is the Ring Maker. He’s the fulcrum of all this. He should have fought harder for me, but wasn’t man enough. It was his failure that created me as the Ring Collector. You know, after collecting and destroying all your rings, like the Lord of the Rings, I have to destroy the Ring Maker. So he is here to see the last ring collected and then be destroyed. If I can’t have him, then he shouldn’t be alive.” Acharu said, with Sumbo nodding in agreement at the eerie and illogical logic she just espoused.

Acharu’s phone beeped. Morkly’s text message came in.

“Delayed at toll gate. Now past it and should be there shortly”

“Nutty prof is almost here. Let me go and roll out the carpets. Take this and shoot into the air when you get my text” Acharu said as she handed a pistol over to Sumbo along with a police two way communicator.

In the corner, Senayon watched all, and heard all. His mind was still very active, but his body didn’t move. He recalled reading of such a drug being used by the Ring Collector in Fuad’s murder.


Acharu took a crouching position beside her car the moment she saw Morkly’s cab pull into the close and quickly sent Sumbo the text.


Morkly was wondering why Acharu was crouched like that when he began to hear the gunshots. He quickly pulled his gun and rolled on the floor to her side as his taxi man sped away without waiting to collect his money. Suddenly, the gunshots stopped. Acharu’s communicator crackled and she reached into the car for it, maintaining her cover. She returned with a smile on her face.

“They’ve got her!” Morkly exclaimed in excitement without waiting to be told. He sprang up and wanted to race into the house but Acharu held him back.

“Cautious approach sir,” she said. “we don’t know if she’s alone or has someone crouching somewhere waiting.” Morkly didn’t know how true that statement was but he calmed down and approached the gate cautiously.

When he entered, he expected to see policemen in position. When he didn’t see anyone, he turned back to tell Acharu something was wrong. She had a gun pointing at him. “Drop your weapon,” she ordered.

“Acharu, what Iscariotish behavior is this?” Morkly asked.

“Drop the damned weapon or I’ll blow a hole through you right here,” she responded.

Morkly saw she was serious. He slowly dropped the pistol on the soft grass by the side of the walkway.

“Now, turn around and walk towards the cottage.”


Acharu observed the look of shock on Morkly’s face when he got into the room.

“Yes mister professor, that’s how we outsmarted you. You were looking for one Ring Collector, when in fact, there were two. I collected Charles, she collected Fuad. I collected the pastor and now she is collecting Esmeralda. We will then both destroy the Ring Maker. You, you are just collateral damage. You should not have been able to figure this out, but then again, you were always too smart for your own good.”

With that, they cuffed him to one of the legs of the platform Esmeralda was on. Then, amidst heart-wrenching screams from Esmeralda, Sumbo set about taking her head off as Senayon and Morkly watched in horror.

When she was done, she carefully placed the head on the navel and then took pictures of the gory sight with a phone she pulled out of her tool bag. She tweeted the images and put the hashtags

#ongoingevent #finalringcollection #ringmakergoingdown and then tagged all the people she knew would spread the word on twitter. When she was done, she turned to Acharu and bowed “Final Ring Collection Completed.”


Acharu went forward to look at Esmeralda’s now lifeless body. When they had started, Sumbo had been the queasy one. They were originally meant to start with Fuad, since her own relationship with Fuad was relatively unknown. But because Sumbo wasn’t sure she could go through with such a gruesome killing, they had swapped and Acharu had gone after Charles first. Now, watching how Sumbo finished Esmeralda off, she realized that the girl had come a long way. Suddenly, she felt a pain shoot through her body. She crumpled to the ground wondering “what tha fuck”


When she came to, Acharu found herself cuffed to the leg of the platform where Morkly had been before. Sumbo and Morkly were standing over her, while drug immobilized Senayon stared at her unable to move. “What is happening here?” she asked, directing her gaze to Sumbo.

“Why did we collect rings?” Sumbo asked back. When Acharu didn’t answer, she continued. “Because they don’t know what being faithful to the people they love means. They callously leave people that loved them. Now, think about it. Aren’t you being hypocritical here? Who better fits this description but you? You left Senayon for Morkly, left Morkly when he had his troubles and have been using men to climb since. You are just as bad as all the others, if not worse cos you’re a hypocrite.”

“Morkly?” Acharu said, directing her gaze at him.

“I knew all along. You see, I suggested this whole business to Sumbo. Think about it. Who approached who in your self-help group? Who reached out more? Who suggested that you guys embark on this killing spree after you guys watched that Crime and Investigation show that day? Now that you think about it, it’s Sumbo, right?”

Acharu closed her eyes, hit with the realization that Morkly was right. In spite of Sumbo’s seeming reluctance to go along with the killing initially, she had been the one suggesting everything, the plans, the methods, everything all along.

“Sumbo saw through your hypocrisy dear Acharu. You tried to use her but we have ended up using you. You remember the only chance for me to be saved from going to that mad people’s home was your testimony. And rather than give the testimony and save me, you took the deal the police command offered you and refused to testify. You played the good lover for a while but got tired of visiting me. You see, I knew, and I did not forget.” Morkly said.

“But how do you know each other? How?” Acharu asked hysterically.

“Social media has made the world a very small place dear. It isn’t very farfetched that a disillusioned nearly mad professor will meet a popular and disillusioned social media personality. That’s all I’ll tell you about this. Now, remember how you turned away and let me go and run mad in a psychiatric home? I’m about to repay you by turning away now, literarily. Sumbo?”

As he called her, Sumbo walked over to Acharu with the still bloody saw she had used on Esmeralda. As Acharu began to scream, Morkly turned away.


Sumbo finally did what she had wanted to do since the beginning. She hated Acharu’s guts. Acharu represented all the reasons men gave to justify cheating on women and treating them badly. To cap it all, she saw herself through rose-tinted glasses and blamed everyone else for what her irresponsibility with men brought on her. Stupid fool. She killed with even more viciousness than she had done with her two other victims. The only person she would have killed with more venom was Charles but she didn’t get that chance. She was so engrossed that she didn’t hear a thing. It was only when she was done and Acharu lay in a pool of blood that she turned around and got a shocker. Senayon was standing on his feet alongside Morkly and they both had pistols trained on her.


“Morkly, what the hell is going on?” she asked calmly.

“Collateral damage is inevitable in the best worked plans. You my dear are collateral damage in our plan,” he responded.

“What do you mean OUR plan? The only OUR plan is the one you and I have mister, and it doesn’t involve you and Senayon pointing guns at me,” she said.

“Ah, you assume. You see, the plan was to get these two women without killing them ourselves.” Morkly said.

“How did you break free from the effects of the drug? You are supposed to be able to see and feel without being able to move. How come?”

“Antidote dear, brought in and administered by the professor,” Senayon responded. Then turning to Morkly, he said “We got them both. Now, shall we destroy the evidence?”

With that, they shot Sumbo.

I’ll be taking a break until right after Write Right Two Prize Giving to put together the event and also set the ball rolling on the editing of my next book Guardians of the Seals. See ya with the next series after the Prize Giving

ff on twitter @tundeleye


A Little Bird Said – 11

The finishing touches are being put to the Write Right 2 Prize Giving Event. Would make a formal announcement with all the details this week. Enjoy today’s episode of A Little Bird Said.

A Little Bird Said 3

This BBM group was the best thing that had happened to Esmeralda in a very long time. One of her friends had prompted her to join twitter and follow a particular individual and ask for a follow back. When she had seen the erotic tweets and pictures that person shared, she had been skeptical about following the person and allowing those show on her timeline. But her friend had shown her that except she retweeted those tweets, her followers would not see them. She would be able to view the tweets, but no one would know she was viewing them.

After the she followed and asked for a follow back, she had sent direct messages to @theotherside asking for how she would begn to enjoy the goodies she had followed the handle for. She had been skeptical when they had asked her for a joining fee, thinking it was some sort of scam. But when she asked her friend and had received reassurances that @theotherside was genuine and trustworthy, she had gone ahead to pay. It was not like the money was anything to her, but she just hated being cheated. Once she confirmed payment via DM to @theotherside, she had been invited to join the BBM group and a new world of easy peazy shenanigans with other women opened up to her.

After leaving her husband and daughter a couple of years ago for Otunba to escape the poverty, she could never have imagined she would have ended up as a lesbian. But after the rush of the new money and status was over and done with, she realized Otunba had just been looking for a trophy. He got some perverse thrill from being able to take a much younger man’s pretty wife. He’d gotten bored as soon as he had her and moved on to his next conquest. In the loneliness that followed, she had found solace with her bored society wives association, and they had introduced her to this new world. There was no shortage of young girls who were willing to have affairs with them for some of the money they had. This new BBM group though just offered a new thrill. Truth was, she was beginning to get bored. She had just agreed on a rendezvous with her latest conquest but the lady had disagreed with coming to Esmeralda’s usual hotel. She said she didn’t like hotels and Esmeralda was definitely not bringing her here. She was almost going to let the whole thing slide when the lady told her there was a bungalow she used for such sexcapades somewhere in Lekki. Esmeralda was excited and her interest was even more tickled when the lady had refused to tell her the address of this secret location until the next day. She had simply said “I will text you as I leave home”. The mystery made it even more exciting. She pinged the lady whose BBM name was RC1 now.


Senayon caressed his pistol, drawing some measure of comfort from the weight and coldness of the weapon. He had set up two teams of policemen to keep his house under surveillance. There was no way some demented serial killer was getting his head on a plate. He rued having convinced Acharu to involve the professor. The mad man had been a bloody waste of their time. He intended to barricade himself in the house until the two days had expired. This Ring Collector person would attempt to reach him if she was true to character. He would have a warm welcome party waiting for her. His mobile phone vibrated, making him jump. “Calm the fuck down” he muttered to himself as he retrieved the phone from his pocket.

“Countdown to Ring Collection. Twelve Hours More”.


Professor Othniel Morkly was an angry man. He hadn’t asked to be called by those children. They had called him in of their own accord, yet now they scorned him. Senayon’s face as he declared what Morkly was very sure of as “mathematical set theoretical opportunistic dramatization” was what got to him the most. Beyond the words, the young man had said with his body that Morkly was useless. He would show them. He powered up his laptop and googled the now dead pastor. As he scrolled down the results page, he saw a picture that caused him to stop dead in his tracks. “Why the bloody hell didn’t he say so?” Morkly said as he enlarged the picture. The internet had a very deep belly and it rarely defecates, Morkly thought as he viewd Senayon smiling right beside the now deceased pastor. He was definitely sure that the Senayon knew more than he had been saying. He googled Senayon Lulu and Bankole Balogun. More pictures came up with the two. He clicked on WEB to view the stories about them and the first two shocked him. StellaDimokokurkus reported that Pastor Bankole Balogun and the Esmeralda Bulus, former wife of his Senayon Lulu Chief Security Officer were having a hot affair before he divorced his wife. The pastor was reported to be a philanderer of repute and Esmeralda was just one of his several conquests. It was just bad that he would do that to one of his most faithful workers even if they were separated. The comments had included all the juicy details and given him a fuller picture of the affair.

“I was right, I was so freaking right!” he exclaimed, as sudden illumination came to him on what the Ring Collector would do. There was no time to waste. He had to find Esmeralda before the Ring Collector did. He called Acharu but her number rang out. He would not call that Senayon. How would the Ring Collector find her? He had to think, and fast.


Morkly had been up all night. He normally looked unkempt, but this morning, he had bags under his eyes and his hair refused to stay patted down. He had been up, monitoring all of Esmeralda’s social media accounts since yesterday. Mark, his pal in the NYPD had hacked into her DM and seen her conversation with the lesbian handle. That was the Ring Collector’s hook in.

Morkly pondered on how to decipher where Esmeralda was. She would not be meeting her lesbian buddy in her husband’s house for sure, so she had to have a haunt somewhere she used for the escapades. He had been happy when he got the BB PIN from the DM, but his bubble had been quickly when Mark told him that he didn’t have the equipment or expertise for breaking into Blackberry chats. If they shared anything via DM or text message, he would get them, otherwise they had nothing. Morkly realized he needed a lucky break to save this woman and he knew it.


It was a very cold morning, but the young woman lay in her bed in the black lingerie she favored. She let the cold seep into her being, matching her temperature to the coldness of her heart. She was about to lay the final line of the tapestry that had confused even the smartest thus far. There was one thing none of them had thought was a possibility and they would not until she was done. They had not even come close at anytime. She rolled off the bed lazily and began to pack her gear, picking each item gently and carefully placing them into her bag. then she went to the bathroom to freshen up, removing the bendy rollers she had put in and combing out the curls they now created in her weave. Then she wore a bodycon dress that hugged her figure like a second skin. Fifteen minutes later, her makeup was done. She took on glance at her reflection and smiled. She looked just like she had told the woman she would look; gorgeous. She had chosen this venue herself. This final one was one she wanted to make a big statement with and she didn’t want to take any chances. It would be her own venue, her own setting and her own timing. She would be in full control. As she stepped into her car, she sent a text message to Esmeralda with the details of the address.


Esmeralda had been ready for thirty minutes before the text message came in. It had taken all of her self-restraint not to call the lady. But she didn’t want to appear overeager and so had not called. Now, as soon as the text came in, she sprang into action. She would be driving to this location herself, so she wore comfortable leggings and a tank top. She wouldn’t be wasting any time when she got there. Easy to wear was easy to discard.


The text message was the unexpected lucky break that Morkly needed. Immediately Mark relayed the information it contained to him, he knew he had to make a call; go there on his own and try to stop her, or get Senayon’s support and some men to go in. From the way they parted ways the last time, he decided to go it alone. Before he did, he composed a long text message explaining the situation and sent to Senayon. Then he retrieved his old pistol and called a cab.


Acharu arrived at Senayon’s apartment that morning after she called him severally without being able to reach him. She had gone to the station and had been told he was at home. Senayon was already aware she was coming, so she guessed he had men stationed around the house. It was a good thing she had come in her official car and uniform, so they knew who she was and didn’t do anything stupid as some of these men had been known to be.

“Senayon, what the hell is wrong with you?” she asked sharply.

“I am doing my best not to have my head severed from my neck in the next twenty four hours, that’s all,” he responded flatly.

“How pathetic! A woman threatens you and you lose your balls and cower in your cave,” she spat.

“Say whatever you want, it’s not you that has your head that’s literarily hanging in the balance here,” he responded without emotion.

“Well, I would have left your sorry ass to wallow her in your own spit, but I have orders to bring you to the state headquarters by the commissioner himself. So, officer, you will go and get cleaned up, wear your uniform and follow me immediately.” Acharu responded.

“Why does the commissioner want to see me?” Senayon asked. State headquarters, harassed by fat superiors who were only thinking about how to give their superiors what they wanted out of this Ring Collector serial murders was the last place he wanted to be right now. But the policeman in him knew he didn’t have a choice but to obey.

“You are to brief him personally on this case. He wants it transferred to SCID but wants to debrief you himself” she responded.

He had been wondering how long it would take them to transfer the case to SCID. He wished he had stayed in his office that first day Charles’ brother came to complain and let his officers handle the matter. He would have been living his boring but safe life right now instead of wondering when a lunatic was coming for his head.

“Senayon, I’m waiting,” Acharu’s voice pierced through his thoughts like the unpleasant sound of metal rubbing against metal. Twenty minutes later, he had shaved, bathed and dressed as appropriate for his rank and dismissed the men on surveillance. Acharu handed him a glass. “That’s the only alcohol I could find in this your house. Drink up and awaken your senses. This your current dulling self cannot go before the commissioner. You will just fall my hand there”.

Senayon swallowed the contents of the glass in one gulp.


Esmeralda liked the location of the house. It was at the end of one of the closes off one of the streets off Admiralty Way, serene, secluded with a very high fence. When she parked, she sent a text to the number to inform the lady that she was here. The response was almost instantaneous.

“Come in, the gate is open”

She got down and saw that the small gate was open. She went in and went up the lengthy walkway to the only building in the compound. It was a cottage, something out a fairytale, complete with a chimney. In the doorway was a fabulously dressed luscious lady. Esmeralda smacked her lips.


Senayon was very tired. It must have been a combination of the sleepless night and the cool air-conditioned air in Acharu’s car because moments after they moved, he began to feel drowsy. He was fast asleep minutes later. Acharu looked at him and smiled. He slept like a baby. She sent a text message to a number she no one else knew she had.

“I have him now. We’re on our way”

The response came in within seconds.

“Great. She just got here too. Hurry”.

A Little Bird Said – 10

It’s Valentine Week! And tlsplacers have some things for you this season. Here’s four of them.

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And for your Gifts

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You should also check out the exclusive Valentine Dinner this Friday at Planet One. 15K if you’re alone and 25K if you’re with the boo. Call 08022665621 or 08181421859 for more info.

Finally, one of the first Write Right finalists shared this link with me last week. There’s no better way to show love this valentine season than to help this young lady. I trust tlsplacers will.

So enjoy all the romance this week. And of course, enjoy this week’s episode of A Little Bird Said.

A Little Bird Said 3

Acharu summoned up courage and joined them inside. She was a police officer after all and she wouldn’t hear the last of it from Senayon if she remained outside. When she got inside, she nearly lost her resolve. Even in the movies, she hadn’t seen anything quite so gory.

With his head on the plate with the eyes popping out in their sockets, Senayon still recognized his former pastor. Flamboyant, stylish and an effective orator, Pastor Banky had been a rising shining star in the gospel firmament and Senayon had been attracted to his message. He had become the church’s Chief Security Officer and that made him extraordinarily close to the pastor. He wished he had stayed far away from it all. Becoming privy to the pastor’s inner moments had opened a vista of uncomely things to him about how the man of God lived. The proverbial camel’s back had been broken when the pastor announced he was leaving his wife. Senayon couldn’t take it any longer. He simply left the church and became disillusioned with religion in general. Now, looking at the dismembered body of his former pastor brought back memories he did not want to remember.

“Senayon, why do you have that look in your eyes like you are not here?” Acharu was saying as she shook him.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Senayon responded, getting a grip of himself.

Professor Morkly was pacing as the evidence team went about taking pictures and trying to collect whatever shreds of evidence they could. One of them returned with a collection of CDs and handed one over to each of them. It took only one glance for Morkly and Acharu to realize what Senayon already knew.

“This is that hotshot pastor who divorced his wife now. The blogs always carry some story about his affair with some lady or the other.” Acharu said, scoffing. She disliked his type and couldn’t help showing it in spite of the situation.

“If he is divorced, then it logically follows that he was married,” Morkly said, more to himself than to them.

“Yes, that’s quite obvious” Senayon responded.

“Which isn’t quite what your erudite profiling said the victims would be,” Acharu added.

Morkly was hot in the ears. This killer had managed to make him look stupid once again and he was taking this personal now.

“It still fits the profile if one broadens the scope of the victim selection by deleting the necessity of the victims being single. The rest of the profiling fits. The pastor was a public figure, was a disgusting cruella to his wife and did his best to set a world record with bedding women in secret solitary locations like this. Sounds the same to me.” Morkly said with airs and graces.

“And how does such a widened scope help us to stop this Ring Collector from collecting her final ring, en oh great brilliant decipherer of serial killing minds,” Senayon said curtly.

Morkly adjusted his neck scarf and shot Senayon a killing look “and what are you going to do now that the Ring Collector is coming home, oh great cop that mocks”

“Oh drop the testosterone fueled gorilla-like chest thumping and focus on the problem” Acharu said, banging her hand on the table and making the head jump in the plate. That seemed to get the men quiet.

“So, the killer has widened her scope. What does that tell us?” Senayon said.

“She can do it again. In fact, she is probably going to strike outside all of the sets she has operated in. Look at it as set theory. There are some things that remained constant, in spite of the fact that this victim was married. I think that is like an intersection of the set. Whatever she brings into scope, like a union of the set must have that intersection as part of it. If we expect her to bring a new set into the mix that maintains this intersection, what trait is she yet to explore that might be a part of this new set”

It took all of Senayon’s restraint and an eyeing from Acharu to keep him from shouting at Morkly that what they needed was not a lesson in set theory. Morkly continued. “While I ponder that, let’s focus on her obsession with you, super cop.”

By now, the evidence guys were done and everything was bagged and taken away. Morkly’s reminder of the Ring Collector’s last message was all he needed for his mood now.

“Well, I’m not a public figure. I don’t ferret girls on social media. And hell, I do not have a secret location where I can come and bed women, I struggle to pay the rent in my current place. In fact, I struggle so much with these payments that my wife left me for a baba olowo. So…”

“Wait. What did you just say?” Morkly interrupted.

“You want me to repeat just how bad my life is one more time for your gloating pleasure?” Senayon spat. His self restraint was approaching breaking point now.

“Senayon my boy, just repeat what you just said. I think I’m about to have an Archimedes-esque Eureka moment, so humor me and do as you are told,” Morkly said.

Senayon had had it. He stormed out of the room.

“You just had to be snotty and condescending, didn’t you?” Acharu asked in annoyance, as she followed Senayon out of the room, leaving a confused Morkly in the room with a “what did I say” look on his face.


Senayon got back to his desk, and began to review the autopsy reports on the first two murders. Both reported the bodies having paralyzing substances in the blood stream. That must have been how men that big were overpowered by a woman, he thought. She must have drugged them first and then immobilized them. He liked the fact that they had all left him alone. Acharu had received a call from the headquarters about this new death and had gone to answer her bosses. She had told Senayon that there was a high likelihood that he would be taken off the case and special investigators appointed by the IG himself would probably take it over. After the initial political linkage which discredited the twitter overlords and activists, the activists had fought back when the killings continued and became obviously apolitical. Now, the heat was in the police kitchen and there were orders from above that the case be killed off conclusively. They could do all they wanted for all he cared. It was not any of them that had their names in the blood messages from the killer. All the online media and news agencies carried the story. He had turned his phone off after their calls came incessantly for information on the case. Two of them who were bold enough had even called at the station but he had left stern instructions with his men to turn everyone away. He was holed up in the station, but he knew he would have to go home eventually. Home, alone. He shuddered at the thought but shook himself. He was definitely not going to allow himself get drugged by any woman and since she had not overpowered any of her victims without the help of incapacitating drugs, he felt safe. But a voice kept niggling at the back of his mind and kept repeating the words HOME ALONE.

“Home. Where is this home she is coming to,” he mumbled to himself. Then he got another text message. It was from yet another different number, but he didn’t need to be told who it was from.

“Final ring gets collected in 2days time. RC to RM”

He was not going to just lie down and take it this time. He pressed REPLY and typed the message.


Split-seconds after the sent the text, his phone vibrated indicating he had received a text. With hands trembling with excitement and fear, he reached for his phone and opened the text message. It was a reply to his own message. It contained a single word, the last that he wanted to see.



Morkly sat in the midst of his books and laptop, scribbling away furiously. He was constructing the set after scouring the internet for all the information he could get and consulting his books and notes from many years past.

“Compulsive order, check. True to method and showmanship, check. Hypocritical lifestyle. Not all. Behaviour, check. Only marital status different.”

He was finding points of similarity and points of difference. He had found the intersection. He had a gut feeling this final home run of the little bird was going to be outside the former three sets. Initially, he had thought she was coming for Senayon. He was different enough from the first three victims to be from outside their set. But the more he looked at the intersection, the less he was convinced it was Senayon she was coming for. He simply did not have any of the attributes from there. But he had already figured out that this final hit was going to be about Senayon, even if it wasn’t Senayon that would be the victim. Problem was, the mocking cop was a loner. No one but his daughter was linked to him in any way and that daughter was far away from Lagos. Something told him the Ring Collector wasn’t leaving Lagos, and would not kill a little girl. It had to be someone else.

“What if she deliberately hit us with the curveball of going outside her regular parameters to throw us on a wild goose chase?” he mumbled to himself. It was possible. Logic told him it was a huge stretch of possibility, but something sub-logic niggled at his mind telling him she had outsmarted him once and could very well do it again. He shook it off.

“Whatever it is, I must decide on my hypothesis and stick with it. She will strike outside all known parameters again. And there are only two parameters she hasn’t tweaked. The territory is the first, but that’s ruled out. Senayon is the sun around which her killing revolves, and she isn’t going to move out of his reach. It will therefore be in Lagos. The second is the gender. She will kill a woman this time.”

As soon as he said it, it hit him like a lightning bolt. She would kill a woman. It jumped from his theoretical ponderance into a very real possibility in that instance and he took off. “Oh dear, oh dear.” He said as he raced out. When he go to the door, he realized he felt empt”

As soon as he said it, it hit him like a lightning bolt. She would kill a woman. It jumped from his theoretical ponderance into a very real possibility in that instance and he took off. “Oh dear, oh dear.” He said as he raced out. When he go to the door, he realized he felt empty. He wheeled around and raced back inside to get his scarf, quickly twisting it around his neck. Now, feeling complete, he raced out of the house to go and find Senayon.


‘Oga says he doesn’t want to see anybody,” the exasperated officer said to the funny looking man. He had seen the man come in and go with the DPO and the PPRO woman in the past few days now, but an order was an order.

“officer, will you be kind enough to tell your oga that it is about the homecoming of the little bird?” Morkly said to the policeman in as polite voice as he could muster to cloak the irritation just seething beneath.

“I don’t want oga’s trouble. Please go and come another time or call his mobile phone so he can come and bring you by himself” the policeman said.

“Chief, will you get out of the way this moment” a familiar female voice ordered sharply from behind Morkly. The policeman saluted quickly and opened the small swing door to allow them in. whatever oga said, this woman was the state PPRO and senior to his DPO. He had to obey her.

“Apologies for the ill mannered treatment sir,” Acharu said.

“Oh, he was only obeying orders,” Morkly responded.

Senayon had heard them coming and was waiting. “Acharu, you could have come in alone, you know?” he said, ignoring the prof.

Acharu guessed he wasn’t handling the pressure from the press and news people well. He would not be used to such attention the way she was. She shook her head and responded to him soothingly “Prof has some exciting new findings to share with us,” and then turning to Morkly, she said with meaning “and he has promised to be nicer”.

“You mean he’s going to come and share some of his new baseless conjecture with us?” Senayon retorted.

Morkly ignored him and said with his lecture voice “the little bird is coming home to get another little bird Senayon. After plugging all the data into the set theory based model I built, contrary to what you fear and think, she is coming for you.”

“Oh, really?” Senayon asked, his words dripping with sarcasm.

“I’m absolutely certain that you are safe. Her next target will be a woman.”

“Then explain this,” Senayon retorted as he handed his phone with the text message conversation over to Morkly. Acharu joined Morkly and read the message quickly.

“When did you get this?” she asked.

“Not very long ago, and contrary to professor’s mathematical set theoretical opportunistic dramatization, she has stated who she is coming after in plain English. Damn, I’m sounding like the professor! Am I going mad?” Senayon said.

Morkly just held the phone in his hands, trembling. He could not believe he was wrong again a second time.

Write Right Two – And The Winner Is…

On the 2nd of December, 2013, we made the announcement for Write Right Two and the entries came pouring in. I’d like to appreciate every writer that sent an entry in. Keep writing, do not stop pounding away at those computer keyboards ever. You will surprise us all, but most importantly surprise yourself with what you will produce.

We took lessons from the first edition and did our best to improve the competition. We changed the format to ensure that writers deliver over a period (giving them a chance to improve and build up while placing a greater demand on them), as against individual flashes of brilliance. We also included the judges votes to ensure that the quality of the writing influences the final outcome. However, we retained the reader votes, because we believe that writers must recognize the need to sell their writing and engage their readers. Of course, the votes were cumulated so that the effects of the overall performances of the writers reflect in the final assessment. Again, it is our aim to take from the lessons of Write Right Two to make the third edition even better.

I’d like to commend our finalists for all the hard work you put in, meeting our deadlines and I dare say improving every week. It’s been a beautiful two month journey. We have great news already – two of the finalists have offers to write on premier online portal 360nobs.

Our judges, you have been wonderful, meeting our deadlines for your feedback over the last two months, week in, week out. Not many people would demonstrate the kind of commitment you have to Write Right Two.

Friends, behind the scenes who recognize what we are doing and committed to support financially in spite of the absence of corporate sponsors. We firmly believe that these sponsors will eventually come as they see the value we create.

Finally, you, the readers. You have come every week, read, commented and voted. You are good people.

Final Week Of Voting

Here’s how votes were cast on the Final episodes.

Judges Vote

  • Ebun – Fate’s Store by Miracle Adebayo
  • Tolu – Wewe By Ifeoluwa Watson
  • Ikhide – Wewe By Ifeoluwa Watson
  • Oye – Wewe By Ifeoluwa Watson

Reader Votes

Week Four Write Right Results

Here’s the final table

Write Right Final Tables


I’ll be profiling the finalists over the weekend.

Prize Giving Event

We’ll be having a prize giving Event where all the finalists will be present to interact with the readers. Ifeoluwa will be available to read from her winning story and there’ll be music, food and we’ll be showing the Baba Risi Animation we’ve been working on for the attendees. Write Right Alumni will also be there to share the interesting stuff they’ve done with their writing since the last Write Right. It’s gonna be a packed event and you simply do not want to miss it. Find the details below. If there are any changes, I’ll definitely communicate this here on tlsplace.

  • Venue: Ember Creek, Awolowo Road
  • Date: Sunday 9th of March 2013
  • Time: 3pm to 6pm

Once again, thank you all very much for making Write Right Two a resounding success. See you at the third edition

A Little Bird Said – 9

Today is the final day of voting for Write Right 2. Read the finale of 4 of the top 5 Finalists. A note on Akinwale Agbaje. His Finale will be posted tomorrow, when voting is over, because of the readers who have asked for it. There is a correct way to do things, and there are incorrect ways to do them. I’ve blogged weekly for two years, held a very hectic day job with a bank, done several events, published and promoted books yetI have not failed to post on any single Monday. When there’ll be a break from posting series, I pre-inform the readers of this, and how long it will take. It is commitment and respect for the readers and developing a disciplined work ethic that is responsible for this.

One of the goals of Write Right is to engender discipline to meet deadlines in the writers whilst remaining creative. Anyone who writes professionally knows this is non-negotiable when one earns his keep with writing. Sending in an entry at 9a.m. on Tuesday morning (after the post should have been up) which was meant to have been sent on Sunday evening for the finale of a competition, without bothering to take the courtesy of sending in an email to let us know you will be unable to meet the deadline, is disrespectful to those of us who have put it together. I will not stand for such.

The process we go through is for the entries to be sent to the Write Right email by Sunday evening. My PA collates and sends them to me for posting on Monday (to give room for those who might be slightly late) and I put in the drafts section of the blog on Monday evening before publishing on Tuesday morning. Sending in an entry on Tuesday morning after posts should be up is totally unacceptable especially after the entrants were cautioned on sending entries in late.

I’ll be sharing details of the Write Right Prize giving right after announcing the winner tomorrow.

Enjoy today’s episode of A Little Bird Said.


A Little Bird Said 3

He did not answer. She dialed two more times but all she got as a reward for her efforts was some Wizkid song playing back as callertunes.

“Has dialing that number become an obsessive compulsion and are you going to persist in the stupidity of repeating the same action or are you going to twiddle your whiskers together and get out there?” Morkly said.

“And what would you do, all knowing Professor Morkly,” Acharu snarled, irritated for the first time. Senayon threw the professor a look that could kill a bull.

Ignoring them, Morkly said in a matter of fact manner “What any smart cop who listened to their lecturers would do. You go to where the victim is of course. What else? Doesn’t it follow that the killer would be where victim is in order to kill him in the manner this Ring Collector has done so far?”

“Go to where the victim is, you say. How do we know where this victim is? They could be anywhere in this Lagos for crying out loud. If he answered Acharu’s call, we would know…”

“Even the Russian NKVD automatons would have figured this out. Where did you find the other two victims?” Morkly asked.

“We found them decapitated in their…” Senayon said and then realized what he was about to say. It took one look at Acharu to see that she had caught on to what he had been about to say.

Quickly, she enlarged the picture from twitter again and got the name of the street.

“Do you know where Donver Street is located in Lekki? I picked from one of his tweets that he was going past the toll gate to get home. In fact, it’s in Phase 1,” Acharu said.

Senayon shook his head.

“Do I have to do everything for you guy? Haven’t you heard of Google Maps?” Morkly said in mock exasperation, adjusting his trademark sweater.

Taking the tablet from Acharu, he punched Donver, Lekki into the application. Seconds later, the screen filled with maps and a red pin indicating the street. He zoomed in and the details and surrounding streets became clearer.

“You do know how to read a map,” he said as he handed the tablet back to them. Senayon took the picture in with one glance and he began to call the units he had put on standby, instructing them to head to the location and then wait for his orders.

Professor Morkly began to laugh hysterically as Senayon went into hyperdrive darting around as he marshaled his troops. Acharu looked at him, wondering if his madness was ever really cured.


Senayon didn’t like the fact that they had to carry out the operation in broad daylight, when the sun was at its highest. He preferred quiet operations without the unwanted attention of people in the neighborhood. But this was an emergency and what had to be done had to be done. He did the final confirmation via radio that all his men were in position around the house and exits from the short street with houses where trees touched in the middle. Sweat dripped from his brows as he adjusted the strap that held his bulletproof vest.

The shrill sound of Acharu’s phone ringing cut through the hot afternoon. It irritated Senayon, as everything else about this operation did. Some unbalanced heartbroken girl was the reason for all this. He cursed under his breath. The only respite he had was that Morkly was not here to continually throw jabs at him. He might have just lost it and pulled the trigger if that had been the case and probably ended up in the psychiatric hospital just like the prof.

Acharu picked her phone and a smooth male voice said hello.

“Hello, who am I speaking with?” she asked. The number was an unknown number.

“Well, you called me about four times about an hour ago. I couldn’t take the call at that time, but I return my calls, especially those from numbers that call repeatedly” he said.

The realization hit her like a gust of cool breeze on this sunny day. She signaled Senayon and then put him on speaker.

“Where are you?” she asked.

“That’s an interesting question to ask for someone I do not know from Adam. I am not inclined to telling you where I am,” the man responded.

“Gentleman, I urge you to answer the lady’s question. Are you at home?” Senayon asked.

“And what if I am at home?” the man responded.

“Then you might want to come to your front gate, if you can,” Senayon responded.

“Why should I do that simply based on your request?” the man answered.

“Because you will die if you don’t,” Acharu responded.

The phone line went dead. “We give him two minutes to come out, and then we storm the house assuming he’s hostage if he doesn’t,” Senayon said. They didn’t need to; the man was at the small white gate in less than a minute.

Senayon stood up cautiously. The man looked like his picture – tall, dark, fresh, fine and evidently well fed. He oozed money even though he was dressed in only a polo t-shirt and a pair of knee-length combat shorts.

Acharu was not as cautious. She approached the man who was now out on the street. She had obviously not been on the field in a long time, for her to expose herself that way. Four officers emerged from their hiding places and joined her, guns drawn. Senayon dashed forward, taking care to keep low just in case the guy was bait to draw him out into the open. A voice told him he was being paranoid but he countered that he had every reason to be.

Acharu was questioning the bewildered young man and had taken his phones from him, going through his twitter already. “Nothing in his DMs that resembles anything professor Morkly had.”

The professor had joined them without making a sound and they all jumped when he spoke “that is impossible. I am certain this is the next victim,” he boomed.

“Keep creeping up on fully armed men and you might get a stray bullet in you!” Senayon said, irritated.

“Ah, I’ve faced worse. Young man, do you mean to tell me there have been no sudden arrangements of dalliances between you and some new young female via social media?” Morkly addressed the guy. As the guy was about to answer, Morkly interjected “be sure to answer correctly. Lying to the police is a serious offence”.

Bade looked at the scene in front of him, from the strange man in neck scarf, to the bulletproof wearing policemen and this woman and decided he couldn’t afford to play smart. “Yes I have, but it’s a pretty normal thing on twitter, especially for someone with plenty followers like me.”

“Voila! There, you have it. That wily lioness The Ring Collector was teeing him up as prey for the kill, but we managed to get here before her and saved this one” Morkly exclaimed.

“The Ring Collector? The serial killer I’ve been reading about online? Wow!” Bade held his head, as if feeling it to be sure it was still there.

“Yes, you would have lost your head mister if I hadn’t figured things out,” Morkly smirked.

Two sounds from Senayon’s pocket came in quick succession. He reached for his phone and saw he had both a twitter notification and an sms. He opened the sms first.

“Hello Senayon. You failed. We are together now. You are now The Ring Maker. Haha on your wild goose chase”

Senayon threw his head back and laughed as he handed the phone to Acharu for her to read the text. Morkly asked with a puzzled look in his eyes “are you sure you are not going insane? You laugh in a strange manner”.

Acharu quickly opened twitter on the phone to see the notifications that had come in. “Oh fucking no!” she shouted.


Acharu’s shout had attracted Professor Morkly to the scene. “What might be agitating you young lady?” he asked.

In response, she handed him the phone to the professor.

“Oh sniveling snarling hounds of hell! This cannot be real. I was so sure, so certain!” he exclaimed in disbelief.

By now, Senayon had stopped his crazed laughing and appeared to be back to his right senses once again. Unable to take not knowing what the other two were viewing on the phone any longer, Senayon snatched the phone out of the professor’s hands and looked at the image. The Ring Collector had struck again. This time, the twitter handle was different, but it was definitely her. The modus operandi of having a series of tweets mentioning the Senayon’s handle and then mentioning all the news agencies and bloggers was the same. And the images were the same gruesome kind. Another text came in and he quickly switched screens to see what other ominous news it carried this time.

“She has sent the address,” he mumbled.


It took them another two hours to weave their way through the Lekki traffic to reach Sangotedo in spite of employing their sirens. Professor Morkly had at first been talkative, insisting that this wasn’t the real Ring Collector and that it must be some copycat, because he was so certain his deductions had been correct. But after a while, even he became quiet, admitting what they had all been thinking out loud. “She hoodwinked us all, even me, knowing we would try to figure her out. That became our trap. But I swear to the highest heavens I will outwit her and find her” he said. Senayon and Acharu remained quiet with their individual thoughts on the journey.

The main gate of the bungalow was locked but upon trying the smaller pedestrian gate, it gave way inwards. Senayon did a quick sweep of the compound as he entered with two of his men as quietly as they could manage.

Professor Morkly entered behind them, ignoring their attempts to be quiet and making quite a ruckus of his entry.

Senayon spun around and made a “keep quiet” sign with his finger to his lips.

“Oh come off it!” Professor Morkly responded in contempt. “The killer is long gone and except you are concerned about noise disturbing a dead man, I will be as loud as I please”

“It’s the training prof, we follow procedure!” Senayon managed to respond. Morkly simply made a face at him and responded “Well I’m not a robot, unlike the rest of you!” and went past him to the front door and shoved it open. The smell of fresh blood hit him square in the face and stopped him in his tracks. The rest of the team pushed in behind and when he didn’t move, they got ahead of him. The pictures had shown a dining area and that was where they went immediately. Acharu threw up and rushed back past the still unmoving Morkly outside.

Senayon surveyed the murder site, his mind trying to reconstruct the scene. He was in a trancelike state, oblivious to his men running around and making the necessary calls for various murder scene teams to come to the location.

As Senayon expected, the victim was stark naked. This time, he was tied to one of the dining chairs and had what looked like burn marks on his back and chest. What made the site most gruesome however was the decapitation. The head had been placed in a plate on the dining table, complete with a napkin and cutlery as if the body was about to eat its own head.

Behind the chair the body was on, the Ring Collector had left him a message.

“Dear Ring Maker, One More Ring To Go. The Little Bird Has Spoken Thrice and Three Rings Have Been Collected. The Little Bird is Coming Home”