Patrick Emeka Odo @patrickodo

We often played snooker at the recreational center near the school. On this particular day, three of my friends and I were there, enjoying ourselves after a long and challenging day of lectures. We decided to cool off in that ambient environment, surrounded by trees and beautiful scenery.

While we were there, another group of students joined us. Before we knew it, they struck up a conversation, and soon we found ourselves placing a bet between our two teams—my group of friends and the newcomers. However, it didn’t turn out to be a good decision.

They perceived us as uneducated or not very knowledgeable about the game of snooker, but what they didn’t realize was that we spent most of our time there after lectures, practicing for months.

When the contest began, we took it easy on them. They assumed that was our best, but we had more tricks up our sleeves. As the game heated up, we started to showcase our skills. In the end, we decisively beat them and claimed the prize.

However, when I noticed their expressions as they counted the cash, I could see how disappointed they were about losing their money. In that moment, we decided to return the cash to them, and just like that, everyone was happy once again.

Back in 2012, I was still in primary school and I had this snail farm. I was keeping the snails, not for financial gain, but for food purposes. I enjoyed the taste of snail meat, and whenever my dad prepared it, I absolutely loved it. The only problem was that it was never enough, so I decided to start picking snails every morning and piling them up until I had enough to satisfy my cravings for the day.

I continued this routine until the day my dad visited. He spotted my little container where I farmed the snails. When he came closer, he realized that they were a bit larger than expected, and it wasn't that small of a collection, so he started probing about it. My dad was obviously impressed.

I had picked these snails for the family’s food, so I didn't expect any reward. However, my dad willingly gave me 1,500 Naira as a way to reward my effort. He explained that when he usually bought snails from the market, it cost three times more, but here I had a larger quantity. He felt blessed to appreciate my work.

At the same time, he cautioned me to be very aware of the surroundings where I picked the snails, as there could be dangerous insects and animals hidden nearby. I understood and took his advice to heart during the next snail hunts until I got weary of it.

It was my first time tasting a grape. My uncle had come back from the market with some, and when I took a bite, it was just so wholesome. I got a few portions, and my siblings also took their share. The grapes were so small, and I worried why my uncle hadn’t bought enough, knowing how delicious they were. It was hard to resist just taking a little bite. I craved more of that sweet flavor, so I decided to go to the market and search for grapes myself.

I took along 2000 Naira, hoping it would buy me a lot more, enough for me and my family. When I arrived at the market, I spotted the grapes displayed neatly on a table. They were arranged in a plastic container, and I pressed forward to the seller to bargain for the price.

stood in shock for two minutes, glaring at the little grapes displayed in the plastic container. I asked the seller to repeat the price she had quoted, and when she did, it left me astounded. She demanded 7,000 Naira for just a small container of grapes! I began to process this outrageous price, but she wasn’t budging. She insisted on the 7,000 Naira for the few grapes I could count in the container, they couldn’t have been more than 15.

I realized I couldn’t spend that amount on grapes, especially since I had only brought 2,000 Naira with me. Feeling frustrated, I pocketed my money and headed home immediately. I didn't even mention my ordeal with the seller to my family, who knew I had gone to the market to buy grapes. I kept it to myself, and now I’m sharing my story with you.

I woke up feeling anxious to check the results of the story competition, only to discover that only two accounts had won. I initially thought it might be a glitch in the network or an issue with the website. But it turned out that wasn't the case. I waited patiently for my turn, hoping for good news, but ultimately, I found myself left behind like the black sheep of the group. While others celebrated their winnings of 2,000 and 3,000, I watched from the sidelines, feeling disheartened.

I had poured my heart into writing "Brink of Sting", convinced it was a strong story worthy of recognition. Now, I couldn't help but feel a deep sense of disappointment. I wasn't sure who to blame—should I be upset with myself for not focusing more on the story instead of chasing likes? Or should my frustration be directed at the website managers, who unexpectedly changed the contest rules without warning, altering the selection criteria without giving a fair chance to those who had previously claimed rewards?

I honestly don’t know who to blame for what happened, but my disappointment runs deep. What frustrates me even more is the lack of communication regarding the changes in the reward system. There wasn’t a single post or announcement addressing the modifications, leaving us in the dark about the new rules. It feels incredibly unfair.

I had grown accustomed to the expectation of claiming 2,000 Naira for my efforts, but now even the most talented writers were left with nothing, or far less than they deserved. We were given no explanation for the slashed amounts, no warning about the changes—it was as if our hard work and creativity were suddenly worth much less.

This silence from the website managers only adds to my frustration. They could have at least acknowledged the alteration, offered an explanation, or provided a chance to adapt. Instead, we were left with a sense of betrayal and confusion.

I was already on the brink of sleeping when I heard my younger sister shout. I didn’t want to be disturbed. I didn’t want her to get me out of my warm bed. So, I laid there, trying to go back to sleep, until she called my name for a second time. Reluctantly, I dragged myself off the bed and headed toward the direction of her voice.

It was coming from the sitting room. When I opened the curtains to glance in, I saw her staring closely at one of her footwear. I wondered what could possibly make her call me and pull me from the depths of my beautiful sleep, which I cherished so much.
Everybody in the house knew that I don't joke with my daytime sleep, this is because I hardly slept at night.

As I moved closer to inspect what had caught her attention, I saw a scorpion. A king scorpion, to be precise. It lay there ready, waiting to sting her leg.

I held her gently and moved her back urgently, stepping in closer to protect her. My sister blinked up at me, with innocence in her eyes. It was her first time seeing a Scorpion that close.
I got rid of it afterwards and checked if there were more around the area.

My roommate was very happy and loud about how much she learned in her baking class. I didn't know she took a class, but she was so sure of herself. She asked me to help buy the things we needed to bake. I agreed and gave her a lot of money for the ingredients.

After we got the money, she bought all the things we needed to bake. Then, we waited for the special day to bake together. Before the day came, we made plans and got everything ready. We decided to cook a yummy meal too so that the day would be extra nice.

Finally, the big day came! My roommate got the kitchen ready. She put out bowls, cups, and trays so we could bake. As she mixed the ingredients, the sweet smell of it all was appealing.

Everything was going well until we put the dough into the oven to bake. At first, it tasted really good! I even tried a little bit before it went into the oven. But suddenly, something strange happened. The dough started turning into powder.

If you just looked at it, it looked hard too. But when I tried to hold it, it was all powdery. I felt sad because I thought we wasted our money.

But we didn’t want to throw it away, so we kept baking it. When it was done, we decided to eat it like that.

I woke up for school, but this day was different. I had an exam that I was really worried about. As I got out of bed, I remembered everything that happened the night before—a mix of studying, dinner, and trying to finish my homework before going to sleep.

When I looked in my closet, I had a big surprise. My white shirts, which are part of my school uniform, were all dirty. I realized I had worn them all the day before, and the shirt I planned to wear for the exam was still stained. I started to feel panic rise inside me.

I thought hard for a solution. I remembered the sweater I borrowed from a friend. It could hide the messy shirt! But when I looked for it, I saw that it was too long for me to wear over a wet shirt, and I couldn’t return it in bad condition. My heart sank even more.

Feeling desperate, I rushed to the wash basin and scrubbed the shirt as fast as I could. I hoped it would get clean and dry quickly. But as time passed, I grew more anxious.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed. I looked at the message and saw that the exam was postponed! I felt a mix of relief and frustration. I had spent so much time cleaning a shirt that I didn’t need to wear anymore.

Even with the news, I still needed to go to school, so I put on the wet shirt and ran out. The outside air was chilly, and I felt nervous about how I looked, but I tried to smile as I walked to school.

As the day went on, I felt tired and kept thinking about my choices. When I finally got home, I felt sick from the cold and the stress of the day

Last night, just as I was getting ready to step out and buy food, something strange happened. I had just finished dressing when I noticed my light bulb shining unusually bright. It didn’t feel right, and I immediately knew something was wrong.

Without wasting time, I turned off the light and quickly unplugged my socket. I didn’t want to take any risks. Just as I finished, I heard the sound of the outside bulb exploding. That confirmed my suspicion, something was definitely off with the power.

Later on, I found out that the voltage had suddenly spiked. It wasn’t just my place; many people in the area suffered damage to their appliances. Fans, TVs, and fridges got destroyed, almost like a joke.

Thankfully, my quick reaction saved me from any damage. I couldn’t stop thanking God for the wisdom to act fast and avoid what could have been a very expensive mistake.

Early in the morning, I set up my table where I could enjoy the view of the sunrise while reading. For about four hours, I was completely engaged in my books, feeling productive and at peace. Everything seemed to be going smoothly until an unexpected incident ruined the mood.

At the far end of the compound, there are always small boys playing around. I don’t know what got into them, but suddenly, I heard a loud thud on my table. A stone had flown over the fence and smashed right into my lamp, shattering the LED lights. I was annoyed, staring at the broken pieces.

I tried to turn the lamp on, hoping it would still work, but all my efforts were in vain. Frustrated, I rushed outside to find the culprits, but the boys were long gone, probably laughing and hiding somewhere. I stood there for a moment, angry that I couldn’t catch them, but there wasn’t much I could do.

When I returned to my seat, I realized just how lucky they were. The stone had narrowly missed my phone, which was sitting right next to the lamp. If it had been my phone, I’m not sure I’d have been able to stay as calm. The boys got lucky this time, but they’ll hear from me the next time I catch them playing their careless games.