Miracle Ukwueze @miracleukwueze

Just as I had settled in the sitting room to take a rest after preparing a particularly demanding meal, a sudden burst of gunshots pierced through the air. The troubling sound seemed uncomfortably close, prompting my father to recall some rumors. He mentioned the whispers circulating about the safety of our neighborhood following the completion of the second hotel along our street. I was quite fond of the new hotel project and had eagerly watched its progress.

I swiftly interjected, dismissing the unsettling rumors as baseless conjecture. In my view, development should always be welcomed, and my father eventually agreed. To lighten the mood, he began to recount the story of an old, now-demolished motel that once stood in the neighborhood during the '90s. Although the tale had a tragic undertone, I always relished listening to stories, and this was no exception.

As my father spoke, I appreciated that the arrival of a new hotel was a testament to progress and growth within our community. While the sudden disturbance had been disconcerting, I found comfort in the knowledge that the neighborhood was evolving, and I was hopeful that the new establishment would bring positive changes.

I woke up to the sound of a sudden lightning strike, followed by a deafening thud coming from behind our house. I rushed outside, and there it was: a massive tree had fallen, its trunk hollowed out by honey bees that had made their home there for months. We had been anticipating the tree's fall, but we never expected it to be brought down by lightning.

The next morning, I walked outside to find my brother standing near the fallen tree, a jar of honey in his hands. He was dressed in a mishmash of clothes, looking almost like a colorful masquerade. I couldn't help but wonder about his strange appearance. Ignoring my mom's warnings, I dashed toward the fallen tree, only to be met with a searing pain as a bee stung me right on the nose. It was a shock unlike anything I'd ever felt before. My nose felt like it was swelling and pulsating, and tears welled up in my eyes as I sprinted back to the house and collapsed on the ground. My mom rushed over, soothing the sting with palm oil as I silently sobbed.

As I lay there, nursing my throbbing nose, I realized that this was my first bee sting, an unforgettable lesson learned.

I was feeling a bit tired of the constant digital overload that had become a standard part of my life – online activities, internet surfing, gaming, and movies. It all began to feel suffocating, and I yearned for a break from the digital world.

It suddenly dawned on me that I hadn't read a physical novel in a long time. As I rummaged through my bag, I remembered picking up my favorite novel on the way back to school, and I became determined to immerse myself in its pages. I spent nearly two hours searching, determined to find it and have a change of pace.

Eventually, just when I was about to give up, I spotted it at the bottom of my bag, buried amidst a heap of notes and quotes. I struggled to yank it out, and when I finally managed to retrieve it, I eagerly opened the book – only to find the pages in disarray. It was a complete mess.

I let out a frustrated sigh as I tried to straighten out the book, feeling a mix of irritation and disappointment. All I wanted was a peaceful retreat into the pages of a beloved novel, but it seemed that fate had other plans for me. As I started to tidy up the book, I couldn't help but wonder if this was a sign that I should persist in my quest for a much-needed break from the digital world, or whether this was just a test of my determination.

But what more could be said whereas I found my lovely novel?
After I packed up the heap into the box, I jumped on my soft foam and soaked myself in the sweetness of this romantic art work- Cyprus Love affair.

I complain vehemently about having to tackle anatomy courses. The thought of delving into the ethmoid bone, the cranial fissure, and the intricacies of the cranial nerves fills me with dread. These are the kinds of complexities that the professors take years to master, yet I am expected to cram and regurgitate them all within a single day. The pressure is suffocating.

What could I do when the test is in no distant time?
Been scaling the text unsure if I am understanding or not. But shaa, I be smart girl normally.

Of all the cranial nerves, the trigeminal nerve stands out as the pinnacle of complexity, encompassing not just itself, but three additional nerves within its intricate web. The overwhelming nature of the material feels insurmountable, and I feel a sense of resignation settling over me. How can I possibly absorb all this information in such a short time and then regurgitate it in an exam?

The weight of the challenge is relentless, and I struggle to find a single space to breath.
As I round up this story, I'll get on with my reading.
I doubt if there's sleep for me tonight.

I used to love cooking tomato stew, but for some reason, it had been ages since I last made it. Perhaps I just got caught up with the hustle and bustle of being a student and somehow lost track of my favorite recipe. It wasn't that I hated it, I just couldn't find the time to prepare it. However, today was different. I had an early morning start and decided it was the perfect opportunity to finally indulge in the savory delight I had been craving.

I ventured to the market and carefully selected the freshest tomatoes, onions, bell peppers, and all the necessary spices to conjure up the perfect stew. I was ready to embrace the aromas and flavors that I had missed for so long. As I returned from the market, all eager to commence my cooking adventure, I was halted by an unexpected hurdle. I realized that I had run out of gas, and it was a pressing issue that needed to be addressed before I could bring my culinary dreams to life.

With a sense of inconvenience looming over me, I hurried to sort out the gas situation. As luck would have it, I was further delayed by an unexpected exam at school. The exam began late, and we were left waiting for what seemed like an eternity before we even started. Frustrated but determined, once the exam had concluded, I dashed home with renewed purpose.

Eagerly, I busied myself in the kitchen, chopping the vegetables and seasoning the pot with care. Once I had replenished my gas cylinder and ensured everything was in order, I finally started cooking. As the rich aroma of the stew filled my apartment, I savored the anticipation of what was to come.

Lost in my own thoughts, I heard desperate cries coming from down the road as I was strolling home from work. I turned the corner out of curiosity and saw something that would stay with me forever. A small child was being violently taken from his distressed mother by a group of men wearing masks. The mother was sobbing and holding to her child's arm. I watched in fear, caught in shock at the nightmare that was playing out in front of me. My heart was pounding in my chest.

I felt like time stopped for a second when I realized how serious the situation was. The mother's cries for assistance went through the atmosphere and set my heart on fire. I was aware that I had to step in, take some action, anything at all, to protect the kid. As I desperately looked around for a weapon, I noticed a big stone resting close by. I immediately rushed forward, picked up the stone, and threw it as hard as I could toward the kidnappers' car. As the stone hit its target, there was a loud cracking sound that made the kidnappers briefly loosen their hold on the infant.

I seized the chance, snatched the kid, and pulled them out of harm's way. Nevertheless, my little moment of victory was brief for the kidnappers twisted their faces in anger and hatred as they turned to face me. I decided in a single second to run for my life, with adrenaline rushing through my veins. I ran down the street, my heart beating in my ears as I hurried towards safety, ignoring the cries and threats behind me.

I turned off the main road and into a thicket of bushes as soon as I got to the neighborhood's edge in the hopes of becoming lost in the deep bush that would hide my attackers. After what seemed like a lifetime, I eventually emerged from the bushes, breathing heavily and with an beating heart. I looked over my shoulder and there was no evidence of the kidnappers, but I could still picture their scary expressions.

I staggered home, shaking and shivering, my head spinning from the terrifying trauma I had just gone through. It was not until I passed out on my doorway, long after 10 o'clock at night, that the reality of what happened really set in. I had just about escaped with my life after witnessing the unimaginable and intervening in a terrifying circumstance. Even though I would always be bothered by the memory of that dangerous evening, I knew that I had done the right thing and what was required to protect an innocent child.

Today was the day of my exam, and I admit, I was not as prepared as I should have been. But despite my lack of readiness, I decided to take matters into my own hands and make the best of the situation. So, I woke up earlier than usual, about three hours before the exam was scheduled to start.

I left my house with determination in my heart and quickly made my way to school, hoping to carve out some much-needed time to revise in a silent and cool environment. Upon arrival, I found a quiet spot in the library, set up my books and notes, and took a seat. As I immersed myself into my reading, I couldn't help but feel the pressure of time ticking away. I navigated through pages, trying to grasp as much information as possible before the exam began.

Thankfully, I was able to download and read some important pages, bits and pieces of the scheme, before the clock signaled the start of the exam. However, deep down, I knew I hadn't covered even half of what the scheme required. Nonetheless, I remained optimistic and hopeful for the best outcome. After all, what more could I do at that point?

As the time for the exam arrived, I gathered my belongings and proceeded to the examination hall, joining my classmates as we waited in anticipation. The exam paper was handed to me, and as I skimmed through the questions, a wave of tension washed over me. It was tough; I must admit. I struggled through some of the questions, my mind racing to recall information from my last-minute studying. I attempted to answer every question to the best of my ability, reasoning and recalling any relevant information I could muster.

Soon, the exam was over, and I submitted my paper with a glimmer of hope in my heart. The feelings of uncertainty plagued my thoughts as I left the examination hall, watching my fellow students discuss their answers and inevitably comparing note. I could only hope to have done enough, to have earned at least a pass for my efforts.