Novels by Chibuzor Victor Obih

Igboland, 1810Blackwheel was amazed when Nneka came out from her hut covered with sweat. Before she came out, he was staring at the backyard of her hut with a look of utter amazement at the silence that had arose immediately the strange creature had left. Nwakaego was beside him, looking even more dazed that she had seen a strange creature in Igboland at an unpleasant hour of the night.“I want to see my mother. It is very important,” Nneka demanded as soon as she saw Blackwheel. “I will tell you what I have heard after I have spoken to my mother. What I want to tell her is important to your mission and the discovery of your rare necklace.” Blackwheel listened quietly without replying her. When Nneka was done, he allowed her to leave the threshold of her hut while directing her to backyard where Nwakaego had rushed to immediately she heard the door creak."She is there," Blackwheel said. "Your mother is in the backyard."

Somewhere, 1810The strange creature that had disappeared from Blackwheel's sight looked at a tall figure as it approached the threshold of a white building. Sitting alone on the floor of an enormous golden throne was the master. The strange creature turned towards the window, looking uncertain on how to deliver the message to the master.“It was difficult to get closer to her,” the strange creature explained, “I tried to see what she was doing in order to get the location of the person who possesses the necklace and I failed. Please forgive me for my lack of preparation.”“Do not worry yourself,” The master whispered. "The necklace is powerless until the twenty-first century. The full moon which rises this year cannot glorify the cause that Blackwheel seek. We must wait for another two hundred years to pass."“So, I am vindicated from my mistakes?” the str

Igboland, 1810Blackwheel thought seriously of what could have happened to his daughter, Nneka if she had not stopped what she was doing when he ordered her to do so.“You could have hurt yourself if I didn't stop you,” Blackwheel said, “that is a dangerous way to approach things, Nneka. What were you thinking when you were going deeper and not getting results?”"I was almost getting there," Nneka replied. "I was seeing the person who is in possession of your necklace but I couldn't find the location.""That doesn't justify your action," Blackwheel exhaled. "Death is a one time journey. There is no going back."Nneka spoke as though emerging from a misty memory of her childhood. Her voice sounded suddenly precarious. “But, there are risks that are worthy to be taken! From the way I see it, this necklace is important to you, father. And as it is important to you, I am willing to help you get back the necklace despite th

Igboland, 1810The town crier held his metal gong tightly as he passed through Nneka's hut, spreading his message, spreading the message of the gods."Great people of this wonderful village," he began, striking the metal gong carefully entrusted under his armpit with a metal stick. "It has come to our notice that a hunter from this village who lives close to the boundary has been brutally murdered by a member of this village. We do not know who is responsible for the murder of this innocent man but the elders have come to a conclusion to interrogate every member of this village. By tomorrow, before noon, everyone should be gathered at the village square. Failure to do so will attract a fine. May the gods be with every member of this village and their family."

Igboland, 1810Blackwheel had no idea on what to do as he saw Nwakaego. Her youthful beauty was definitely intact, and yet he could not bring himself to go closer to her and invite her for a hug. Was he being stung by his conscience? He watched as she sat down, detached, his mind running into full circles like the blades of a windmill, wondering if an immediate apology would make his current state any better. Somehow, he doubted himself. The thoughts of Nwakaego blaming him for all the years of his absence. It was as if she understood the alarming need for him to disappear about two decades ago."You have a grandson now," Nwakaego started, raising her cheek. "How is your wife in England?"Blackwheel kept quiet as he tried to hide the shame that filled his face. The public exposure of his English wife in an inappropriate fashion to Nkechi and his daughter was not something he was expecting to deal with, not in a hot afternoon with news of a dead hunter flying aro

Igboland, 1810Blackwheel felt unsettled as he passed two women who were looking at him in an awkward way. Do they know what I have done? He ignored the thoughts of being captured for murder as he tried to remember the hut he had seen his daughter, Nneka come out from yesterday. In all his years of executing people, he had never felt the way he felt when he struck the hunter's neck in the morning. He knew the image of the hunter's dead face would live forever in his mind. He knew he would have to atone for the blood of an innocent man when he was done fulfilling his mission. Now, he had to set his mind on the mission. Find Nneka and Nwakaego and get the necklace from them!Blackwheel turned as soon as he remembered the path that led to Nneka's hut. When he got to the compound, he stopped and asked a young girl in distinct Igbo if she knew where Nneka's hut was. The young girl said he was standing in front of her compo

Chibuzor Victor Obih was born in the southern part of Nigeria. Delta State to be precise. His writing includes essays, poetry and short stories. He likes to play soccer, read, study and above all, write. He is currently a fourth year student of a renowned public university in Nigeria. The University of Port-Harcourt is where he is pursuing a bachelor's degree in Mechanical Engineering. Shading Black is his first book and his first attempt to explore the beautiful world of a novelist. To stay connected with him and his works, you can follow him on Instagram using the account name: Chibuzor Victor Obih or follow him on Facebook using the account name: Author Chibuzor Victor Obih.

The room was silent. The door swung open and James came inside, holding a book. Ibekwe stared at James and sighed. They looked at each other for a while before James sat down."I got some interesting information you might want to hear," James said."Tell me," Ibekwe said. He had been feeling guilty since the death of Ifeme."The same boy who killed Osisiakalaka confessed some of the diviner's sins to me. He gave some fascinating explanations about your history that still baffles me," James said, moving his fingers. "Is the name Isiewu familiar to you?" He asked."Not really. I have only heard my grandfather mention him once and that was when he told me to story of Umuolu's war."James reasoned with compressed lips. "Isiewu played a major role in destroying your family. According to Efulefu, the diviner slept with Agunwa, the daughter of a chief priest named Egwusinala. Does these names sounds familiar to you?""I think it does," Ibekwe said.

When James Streamer and his father arrived at Osisiakalaka's shrine with some of the people of Umuise who had converted to Christianity he was shocked to find a large crowd of men and women sitting tiredly in front of the shrine. He asked a young woman to explain what was going on in the shrine and she obeyed without hesitation."A great man has fallen in Umuise," she said with tears in her eyes."Who is the man that has attracted everyone in this village to Osisiakalaka's shrine?" James asked."The man is not here. He is far away from this village.""What do you mean by that?""His body is lying in the shrine but his spirit has departed," the woman replied slowly."What is the name of the man that has caused so much tears to flow in your eyes?"The young woman turned and pointed at the door of the shrine. "Osisiakalaka," she said. "Maybe you will be able to tell us why your god has sent his messenger to kill the greatest

"What is happening to the family of Okoli? The news of death has become a common thing in Umuise." Chima said as the elders gathered in the village square.There were many men and women sprawled on the ground. None of them brought stools along with them. It was a day of mourning."What will the ancestors of Okoli say when they hear that his family lineage was wiped out within a week?" Chima asked but no one replied.The women sprayed ashes on their heads as if they were mourning the death of a chief priest. The children covered their bodies with sand as they wept and called Ifeme's name.After Chima sat down, the next elder who spoke was Ekwensi. He did not salute the crowd."Great people of Umuise, our gods have been offended. They have been desecrated and now they seek justice for the blood of Okoli. People of Umuise, we have sinned against our gods by sending a man that did not deserve death an

Ibekwe was thinking about Richard Streamer and what James had told him about his father as he approached Okoli's compound. He brushed the thoughts aside as he remembered that him and Ifeme were yet to bury Okoli. Now, that Ezeugo, Okwudili and Okoli were gone, it was the duty for the next of kin to inherit all their properties while ensuring they had normal burials. Ezeugo's body was almost rotten by now in his compound. Okwudili's body was wrapped with cloth and still left unburied. Okoli on the other hand was in the village square with his head uprooted from his neck. He was beheaded after being found guilty by Osisiakalaka.Ibekwe wondered how Ifeme would deal with the whole family situation as he passed a cherry tree. He had already decided to help him in the best way he could and James and his sister had also offered to help him too.He stopped when he reached Okoli's compound and took a deep breath. As he entered Okoli's hut, he looked through the du

Osisiakalaka came to Umuise as soon as he was able to leave Umudike. By his side were Efulefu and the young lad that was sent to deliver him the message of the elders. As he reached the village square, he drew two straight lines on the ground with a chalk and stepped on it. He gave the chalk to Efulefu who broke it and threw it in the direction of Okoli. "May the gods be praised," Osisiakalaka yelled. "Let those who stand with evil fall. Let the men who invite the bringer of evil into their midst perish."As soon as Osisiakalaka was done, Okoli picked the chalk from the ground and started chewing slowly. In Umuise, it was a law for an accused person to chew the white chalk before spitting on the ground. It was a way of acknowledging the presence of the gods.Osisiakalaka ordered Efulefu to bring some sand after Okoli was done with chewing and spitting the white chalk. He took the sand from Efulefu and pou

Chibuzor Victor Obih was born in the southern part of Nigeria. Delta State to be precise. His writing includes essays, poetry and short stories. He likes to play soccer, read, study and above all, write. He is currently a fourth year student of a renowned public university in Nigeria. The University of Port-Harcourt is where he is pursuing a bachelor's degree in Mechanical Engineering. Perer Ford: Diary of a Stranger is his second book and his second attempt to explore the beautiful world of a novelist. To stay connected with him and his works, you can follow him on Instagram using the account name, Chibuzor Victor Obih or follow him on Facebook using the account name, Author Chibuzor Victor Obih.

The pathway to heaven is rough. The streets are not tarred. The bells are not ringing. Where is God?Apart from the sound of the water dripping from the tap in the bathroom, I couldn't hear anything. I couldn't even hear my heart beating inside my chest. "This is going to be my last attempt," I said to myself. I tried to turn around as I felt the impact of the drug I took. I tried to move my limbs but I couldn't. I closed my eyes and saw myself dying. It was terrible. Then, suddenly, I saw Jesus Christ looking down at me. His feet, white as snow. His hair, colorful as gold. He took my arm and told me to get up."I will give you another chance, Perer," he said."Why?" I asked, confused."Because you deserve it."I didn't know what else to say. I just stood there, shocked. I stood in front of the son of God I had condemned most of my life and I couldn't say anything. All I could think about was my book. The diary I had writt

"The first time I have ever thought of killing myself was in Port-Harcourt. I wanted to make my death quick. Less painful! I wanted to pass any sharp thing through my body and bleed till I was dead. I didn't realize how painful it was until I grew older," I said to the therapist."Where were your parents when you were going through all of this?" The therapist asked."What can I say about my parents," I said, thinking. "Dad stayed with us until he divorced Mum some months ago. Then I was sent to live with my uncle here as if I was the cause of their divorce. Dad was always thinking about life. He constantly joked about God. For your information, Dad hates God. I don't know the exact reason why he hates God, I only know he hates God. Anytime someone mentions the name of God, he gets pissed.""Do you think your Dad's hatred for God is the reason why you hate God too?""I don't think so," I swallowed hard. "My case is different from Dad. I only want answers t

For days, I have been pondering about the meaning of my life and I can tell you that I haven't been gripped by the fear of it even if it is the slightest bit of it. Have you ever been scared of dying and as well feel you are not afraid of living? Only two days did I hear a preacher speak of eternal life and it resounded in my ears for as long as I could remember. It was the first time a person read a bit of my mind without knowing me. Do you think I am slowly turning to God?For so long I have dreamt of Clag and Danny. And for so long I have demanded an answer as to why I was brought to this life, but yet, there haven't been any answers. For some reasons, I reckon, I am but only a roaming lifeless mustard seed enclosed in a showcase and packaged in a nylon called life. To prove my point, think of an empty space with an empty sack lying downwards. Can you imagine that?I left home today to visit Goodness. A newness of

"Thank you for coming today," the therapist said. "I was afraid you wouldn't come because of the way you sounded when you left my office the other day.""Can we continue from where we stopped. As you can see, I am already getting tired of this introductions.""I understand. I understand, Perer."The therapist turned my file to the next page."I thought I would never say this about you but you are an incredibly smart person. You deserve a good life.""Almost everyone does," I replied."Some, more than others. Those who set goals, work very hard, stay out of trouble and complete their education deserve a better life.""Can we get on with this, ma? I am trying hard not to freeze to death.""Are you cold?""No! But I am freezing yo death inside of me.""Give me time."I watched as the woman looked at my file, raised it up, turned it over and placed it back on

"Seven children?" Miss Bisi repeated. "I am sorry, you want us to have seven children.""Yes!" Uncle Max smiled."And you mustn't apologize all the time. It is permitted for couples to share diverse opinions on children. As long as there is love, there is unity.""And you want us to have peace in a home filled with seven children?"Uncle Max didn't mind having lots of children even if it was a dozen because he had spent most of his whole life being alone. The fact that Miss Bisi wanted less than seven kids was not going to change his mind."I was thinking," I interrupted, "with the rate of inflation going on in Nigeria and with the way jobs are getting fewer, how are you guys going to raise seven children in an unstable mixed economy?""God will provide," Uncle Max smiled."Yes! God will provide," Miss Bisi added, supporting his statement. "What is on my mind is not giving birth but being referred to as a married woman. I want people to start