PROJECT PEN [SEASON III]

JUDGES REVIEW {BATCH FIVE}

Beloved cribbers of the most High 

You are welcome to the last batch of the judges review.
And in this batch we will be having the following contestants

019 ASCENDANT     

022 MAN OF STEEZE

024 ANOINTED SCRIBES

029 MEDUSA

030 HOMA

Now unto the first contestant 😗

                 

                                      019 THE ASCENDANT

Mama sits in her favorite wooden chair, chewing stick in one hand, a thin long cane in the other. Adjusting her old woman glasses, the square lenses resting on the tip of her nose, she gives the children a stern look.

Shina and Lola are kneeling in front of her, using their knuckles to hit the floor repeatedly. Lola has already started crying, but Grandma doesn't release them; she knows those are crocodile tears. 

"Now listen carefully. If your mother never warned you, I am warning you now." Mama says, pointing her finger at the children.

"The next time I see the both of you play with that druggie boy, I will drag you both to the village with me. No more iPad and Cartoon Network, the only fun you will be having is playing with sticks and tyres at the back of my house. Do you hear me?" Mama says 

"But we only wanted to say hi to his cat." Shina starts saying 

"Leave his cat with him! Don't you know that cats are witches? Ehn Shina?" 

Their mother, Aisha, walks in, noticing the serious mood and her children on their knees. She hurries over, her face filled with worry.

"Mama, why are they on their knees?" Aisha asks Mama

"Can't you see they are being punished?”

"Mama, we don't punish children like this anymore. You could've just warned them. See,e, Lola's hands are red; she's already crying." Aisha says moving to pick Lola up.

"If you dare. It is because of this rubbish modern parenting that your children are running around with that druggie boy and his witch cat. Is it until what happened happens again? Ehn Mummy Shina?." Mama says.

"It is good that you are here. Sit down and tell them the story of what happened at that time. Maybe they'll learn from it."  Mama says, tapping the stool in front of her for Aisha to sit.

"Mama, I don't have time for this," Aisha says.

"Would you prefer kneeling with them? Sit down and tell them. Don't forget to start the way I taught you." Mama says and Aisha sits on the stool.

"Story story," Aisha calls.

"Story!!." Mama responds, causing Aisha to roll her eyes.

“In our neighborhood, most of the houses were divided into tiny single-room homes we called "Face me, I slap you". They had brown steel roofs that made a fun clinking sound when it rained. Each set of homes shared a kitchen and had four small bathrooms and toilets for everyone to use. Despite their small size, the houses were filled with kids running around laughing and shouting, making the streets lively.

The streets were mostly sandy and messy, with empty sachets torn 10 naira sweet wrappers and mango seeds that had been sucked white. Sometimes the mango seeds were kept until they were really dry. Then we'd break them open, hoping to find beetles hiding inside.