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NIU ART Concepts, NIG.

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Jungle foliage isn't green when the day abandons the groove, when night dangles a foot, then another, and falls face first on the land with a whoosh. Jungle foliage isn't green when total darkness consumes everything its black fingers choose. At that moment it starts to depart from its natural hues, the trees go from a gradual black to the blackest of blues, and nature performs its rituals with a deftness that only fastidious habit and fervent practice imbues. Most fifteen year old boys would be more than a little bit frightened if upon waking, found themselves bound to an ancient trunk in a vast forest that could be teeming with tigers, long vigorous pythons, elephants and every other dangerous beast the overactive mind could think to imagine. Trees become many limbed villainous giants, swaying like spirits when a passing breeze gives them reason for a little excitement. The fifteen year old boy in our tale startled awake in an almost similar fashion, to find, as it seems, he was captured. His instant reaction was of surprise as to how he came to occupy his current surroundings. He was tasking his brain to recall how the incident happened, when he heard steps in the distance. The prospect of meeting his captors wasn't very appealing but the curiosity in the bowls of his belly persisted. A black bush was nudged aside and five men materialized from its gloomy depths. A white man and four black men, he noticed as he drooped his head. "White man Stephen come, come. I gettam boy for you. I gettam strong boy for you. You come, you see first." It hit him then with the force of a hundred pounds till he groaned. His life as he knew it was over. He could feel it down to his toes. He'd been abducted, he'd been taken far from his home and now he could tell he was about to be sold. Nzu episode 1 #nnamdiudoka17

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The Rescue episode 4 Akwueke was not your everyday maiden. Umunkume women were raised to retain their tender charm./ They were taught to stay neat, to walk right, heads held in the air like dueling cockerels poised to take the first attack./ Unlike the men who were trained when of age, to race, swim, wrest and spar,/ the maidens were delicate to the teeth. Mothers taught daughters to paint lips, to wear beads, to sway hips, legs and arms/ in ways that left the males gawking after them with drooling gazes reminiscent of the manner hungry babies stared at pap./ Akwueke and such civility were many worlds apart./ She hated the tamed manners of the village women. Their calculated courtesies, and slow winding pace she scorned at heart./ Having been orphaned at a tender age, she hadn't received the training others had./ So growing up, she'd played, hunted, wrestled with the boys and joined them in making horns and darts./ She wasn't pretty, homely, tamed and delicate like most girls were taught to be...like Adaku had always been. She was a wild beauty, possessing the slender grace of a gazelle in the confident way she walked and ran./ Her quick darting eyes and the little dimples on each cheek of her face informed her charm./ So Akwueke ran like the men would towards the village square. A small crowd was assembled at the entrance./ Letting curiosity captivate her,/ she slowed her pace then elbowed her way to the front, ignoring the tongues that grumbled as she went past./ Nearly cocooned by his guards, the king, Igwe Dike Kamalu, stood at the centre./ He was addressing a little more than a score of the clan's warriors. 'My people,' he said, 'I'm incensed that/ something as catastrophic as this happened not in the lifetimes of all my forebears, but in the full glare of my reign. Ive been marked out to suffer embarrassment in the presence of my descendants./ But the spirits forbid it. Ekpelibe, son of my late friend Ichie Obi Anozie has crossed the border of sense towards the land of the partly mental./ You all must go right this moment and retrieve that boy,' he said pointing at the warriors with the cow tail that was recognized as his sceptre./ A cold chill passed the men's ranks./ 'Do you hear me?' the king roared. Bring back that boy before this abomination breaks loose. For there are no hot coals that could out-scorch the spirits' maddening temper./ And that boy might just fan the embers./' Akwueke had heard enough, she could no more stand and watch. She pushed her way out of the assembly. If the spirits didn't kill Ekpelibe, the king will. The very thought of this act distressed her./ She needed to find Ekpelibe before any of these murderous men buried a machete in his skull or snapped his head back./ ... Okoro the fisherman had told no one he had ferried Ekpelibe to the land of the spirits. That bit of information could cost him his head./ He watched the king as he talked with the men./ Nobody seemed to care how Ekpelibe had managed to cross rivers. He smiled. There was no use troubling himself./ Just when he thought he was in the clear,/ a sturdy arm steered him aside...it was Akwueke. One look at the girl's countenance and the fisherman's gut stilled in fear. This foolish girl could cost him his head./

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The Rescue Episide 3 Pounded yam was the name of the meal, Akwueke reminded herself./ After wasting minutes immersed in her thoughts, she decided at length/ that staring idly at the untouched mortar tucked between the insides of her legs/ was no way to get the yams pounded. Neither did yams pound themselves, get readied on their own entirely, and served./ But her attention was divided, and try hard as she did she couldn't blow out the thoughts that recent events had helped ignite in her head./ "Adaku was gone",... the words she was still trying to accept./ It was tradition. Every couple of years, the spirits claimed a princess of the land as sacrifice. The king's sister had been taken when he was a child, she had heard./ And so had many princesses before her. When the spirits came to claim their quarry, no one, no matter how deluded they were about the size of their strength/ ever tried to defy the attempt./ For the spirits were so fearsome, the entire village ran into hiding every time they appeared/ This time, Adaku had been taken...and was probably bleeding in the tent of the spirits somewhere, Akwueke thought it likely, or dead./ And though she mourned the loss of the girl she'd been tight with, her friend,/ Akwueke couldn't help notice what an absence this timely had meant./ For the first time since the spirits designed things and men,/ Ekpelibe's number one woman was no longer available to take his side in her stead./ Akwueke loved Ekpelibe. The entire village could see how much. But Adaku was the only one he was enamoured of./ The only one he'd gladly risk the king's anger for./ Akwueke was unseen...she was only his closest friend. The one he'd seek advice from./ The one friend he shared his secrets with...and not the love she seemed anxious for./ However things had changed. Adaku his sweetheart was gone./ Now she was sure Ekpelibe wont stay this blind for long. He'd soon realize that deep down, Akwueke was the one he really loved. For now she'd let him mourn...let him shed the pain he harboured completely./ Then she'd show him all the love he had failed to fathom...unleash it./ Adaku was now in his past, for in her capture, Akwueke discerned the hand of the spirits./ Ekpelibe was meant to be with her...The evidence she had was convincing./ Soon he'll be all her's. She hugged her pestle closer and stared past her yam mortar...grinning./ That's how Ekpelibe's little cousins found her when they rushed in, screaming her name like their mother's thatch hut was missing./ 'Ekpelibe's gone o...Akwueke, Ekpelibe's gone,' Ikenna yelled... Akwueke jumped...the pestle in her hand dropped unheeded./ her heart's drum was beating./ 'What do you mean gone?'/ 'He has gone after Adaku,' Ugonna supplied. 'We heard it in the village square. Ekpelibe has left for the land of the spirits.!!!'/ ... ... ... Akwueke raced towards the village square. The insistent fear in her heart was increasing./ Few things meant much to her. In candour, nothing in her life ever seemed to last long. Not her parents, not her friends, not the things she desired. That was the bad luck she lived with./ But if she had a say in anything, she wasn't going to lose Ekpelibe too. She knew exactly what she had to do...she was going to the land of the spirits./ ...to be continued #therescue #TherescueEpisodeThree #freehandsketch #artandrap #rhymeandpoetry #pendrawing

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THE RESCUE episode 2.1 It was getting dark...time for the day to switch paths with the moon./ The orange sun, beginning to sink back, seemed indignant with the rule./ It withdrew quite grudgingly, grew distant and removed./ The waters went 'splish splash', the wind rose, flogged the trees with a whiplash, only to leap back in the blue./ sweeping the waves this way, then that...mimicking the actions of an infant with a broom./ The mimicry was unnoticed by the figure attempting to swim fast in the gloom./ Powerful strokes were all Ekpelibe could pull till he reached past the river's thick banks with its dunes./ He staggered out, his body drenched till he dripped. He'd run out of air so he stopped to catch breath, resisting the temptation to seat back, be renewed./ Feeling less than confident now/, Ekpelibe hefted the machete he'd brought, gripped it in his left hand, and peered uneasily into jungle he'd found./ Fear made such drum beating sounds/ on his chest he thought it might burst with the pounds./ For the stories he'd heard of ghosts, cannibals and evil spirits seemed entirely plausible now/ He made out a path, and walked in, cutting down any tall breaching boughs./ Giant Iroko trees stared down at him, he was sure, with a frown./ Forest creatures whirred and buzzed and he mentally rejected any encounters he might have with an owl./ He couldn't die now...He owed it to Adaku to save the day quick./ Life without her would be such turmoil he could barely face it./ He'd fallen in love with her since they were little children, running around in the rain, playing naked./ They grew up apart. He was forbidden to see her for he was son of an aged disgraced chief,/ and she was princess of the seven clans, betrothed to a very brave prince./ But she loved only him, she used to slip past the guards she was placed with daily/ so she could come visit him in a quiet place they stayed hid./ Only Akueke knew games they played. He wasn't giving up on Adaku...never. If there was the slimmest chance she wasn't in a grave, he'd take it./ He'd go on his knees and beg the spirits to give her back to him...or take is life for her's if they'd consider a sacrificial bait replacement./ He stepped carefully now, little streams had undercut the path in many places./ Engrossed, he didn't notice the shadows in the jungle. If he'd only listen, he may./ He didn't see the silhouettes crowding, bizzare creatures quietly bridging the way./ There was a flip, a quick rap on his skull...he felt the pain gripping his brain./ And before his eyes closed in a dim dizzy faint,/ he saw fuzzy figures, skulls, pitch-black eyes and the smell of death... soon his eyes closed and he was drifting away.../ to be continued... #therescue #TherescueEpisodeTwo #freehandsketch #artandrap #rhymeandpoetry #pendrawing #art #poetry #artofinstagram #nnamdiudoka

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When they got past the seventh river, the fisherman stopped sail upstream./ His canoe rocked, swayed shortly/ then obeyed. The little courier contained nothing/ but a few nets, its owner, n a prim-faced passenger who clung to the boat's storm grazed body./ "I'm sorry Ekpelibe, I can go no further", said the fisherman to his long faced buddy./ "That", he pointed north to land...a clump of odd placed foliage/ flanked by deep darkness, and an evil seemingly lurking behind its shrubs and tall trees./ "That is Obinmuo...what the men of the lost days called it./ Swim fast and straight for the banks. Do not drop pace...not till/ u reach land for these waters are always hungry."/ The man called Ekpelibe watched the waves roll on./ He was determined to go north./ A sheathed machete's leather arms hugged his waist in a snug embrace. But for that, he wore nothing on the upper half of his whole trunk./ He gave the fisherman a slow nod./ "You are sure they took her this way?" he asked. "Go on./ I wouldn't bring you this far if I wasn't so sure./" Ekpelibe took one look at the water and dived in. The fisher man sought for balance as the boat rocked./ But soon as his friend was off, he looked left, looked right, and looked over his shoulders./ Then he picked up his paddle and hastily rowed off./ He knew these waters. Everyone knew about this whole turf./ He also knew the bravest man in the seven clans wouldn't come anywhere near where his boat was./ That is if you weren't counting Ekpelibe who was more foolish than he could boast of./ This wasn't bravery...this was stupidity. When the spirits took a person, that person was deemed dead...no less, no more./ Adaku was gone...and Ekpelibe was determined to die with her. The fisherman took one last look as he rowed off./ His friend was a dead man already. "So long, dear friend," he whispered in an emotion laden voice. "So long."/ ...to be continued. #therescue #TherescueEpisodeOne #artandrap #rhymeandpoetry #pendrawing #art #poetry #artofinstagram #nnamdiudoke

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