Chi-family writers’ Contest

African Stories
// 19 November 2017
Chi-Family Writers' Game

Today, we are getting outside our boxes and walking into a fantasy world.

So, let’s go there!

Envision a dragon. Do you battle it? Or is the dragon friendly? Use descriptive language. Write a 300-word story with a dragon in it.

Here is mine!

Chioma NgaikediDragon Rider.

“Charge, Uzungu Warriors!” I yelled. Sitting astride my dragon, my sword in my hands. My chest smeared with blood and sweat . My eyes blazed. A loud echo chanted in response to my voice. The clash of swords danced around me. The battle was on. Fierce. I saw Zanga fall. I rushed towards him but the Tanto warrior reached him first . His sword split Zanga’s skull.

“No!” I cried, holding my dragon reins, I charged towards the warrior. My sword raised high in the air and I let it down in rage, splitting the Tanto warrior into two.

“Arggoo Mekta Mekta!” My dragon yelled, shaking his large tail in jubilation.

“No …” I responded. This is hardly a time for celebration. The battle is still too young. I grabbed his reins and kicked his sides. He flew straight into the skies and dove straight down. A sea of heads were fighting beneath me. Clashes of swords mixed with cries of the slain. I held tight. The wind sang in my ears. My long dreadlocks flew wild and free. My cowry necklace rattled.

“Ayeeee!” I screamed. My sword raised in the air. My dragon swung right and left and my sword followed, cutting heads and slaying limbs. Cries of pain followed my trail. I cared less. The war must be won! Uzungu must have the victory.

Stories From Chi-Family Members

Ezeanozie Johnbosco

Ezeanozie Johnbosco
“Nna m, biko bia” was what Mama Unigwe told me immediately I got to the scene. “That dreadful Amaisato dragon is here again”, she said further as she continued to shiver.

Those words from her got me ‘thinking’. I shivered too. I didn’t see that dragon at first, but my mind just traveled within it’s axis and reminded me of how the warriors of Umuobodoani tried killing that same dragon nine full moons ago. They really tried their best, but that dragon survived it. I can’t imagine that. That dragon had been a thorn in the flesh of the eight communities surrounding Amaisato and Umuobodoani is not an exception.

Tales have it that the dragon is a god, they call it Ojicheleke. Ojicheleke as history has it is a god that was made with the heads of twenty one virgins. It’s a powerful god, having the head of a virgin sacrificed to it annually. Could you imagine? It was in the early 70s then, though. But, things began to fall apart since the people of Amaisato were not able to meet to it’s yearly demands of a virgin’s head due to the advent if Christianity…

Those and many other thoughts were sprouting up one after the other on my mind, but it was cut short when Mama Unigwe shouted again; ” Nna m, o bulu m oo” (My dear it has carried me away oo). Lo and behold, the dreadful dragon had killed her and made away with her corpse…. I struggled to do something as if I could be of help but I can’t help it.”

Teta n’ura!”, that voice told me as a hand patted me on the laps. I woke up immediately. Behold, IT WAS ALL A DREAM!

Erin Vermont

Erin Vermont

Dew wet the hem of Efra’s robe. His hands, brown and leathery, wrapped around his shepherd staff. He squinted against the whiteness of his herd, at the early light shining off the zegaffs’ downy feathers. He smiled.

Wild cheeping caught his ear. Three chicks tussled over a tuff of purleni shrub. The mother of two of them squawked in scolding. The mother of the other chick was nowhere in sight.
Efra sighed, rubbing his beard. That female zegaff bird was always flying off.
A scaly black head rose from the purleni thicket. Yellow eyes blinked at him.
“Lunto, that hen has wandered. Go get her, girl! Hie!”
Lunto stretched her wings and shook them. Dew sprayed out around her, sparkling. With a crack, crack, the dragon beat her wings and rose into the sky.
Efra was not sure how Lunto always found the strays so quickly, but he was glad she did. Chuckling, he lowered himself onto a rock and surveyed his flock.
His shoulders tensed. Against the pale tan of the brush, a brown shape slunk toward the flock of grazing birds. Efra rose. Yes, just as he feared: a brush wolf. Twice the size of the old zegaffherd, and fifty times deadlier.
If only he hadn’t sent Lunto off.
Chest tight, Efra grasped his staff and strode forward.
“Eh! Eh! Eh!” he shouted, hoping the display would be enough.
But it wasn’t. The wolf slunk closer, its eyes locked on a lone chick.
Efra broke into a run. He waved the staff wildly, yelling.
The wolf turned to him and growled. Its back legs muscles coiled.
Efra stopped. His old lungs heaved. If the wolf pounced, he would have no chance. His thoughts flew to his wife, to his new grandson…
A black blur fell from above, knocking the wolf sideways. Lunto twisted on her wings for another strike, the stray hen dangling calmly from her jaws.
Lunto’s claws hit again, sending the canine sprawling and yelping. The wolf scrambled up, bleeding, and ran.
Efra exhaled.
Lunto alighted and deposited the hen like a kitten. The bird skittered away.
Warm relief flowing through him, Efra stepped toward his faithful dragon. “Well done, Lunta,” he whispered into the black leather of her cheeks. “Well done.”

Uchechi Emmanuel John

Uchechi Emmanuel John
”Nwani! Nwani!”
The voice called aloud outside.
I rose up from my mud bed. I rubbed the back of my palm across my eyes. I looked around, the thatched roof of my hut was burning and falling apart. I grabbed my cutlass, ran outside.
”Look, look!!! Its Ekwensu! The Evil One!” Shouted Obiageli, my mother.
I looked around, the whole village was burning, flames as high as Ugwu Ani (Ani’s hill).
”Go inside the forest, woman, and hide” I shouted, as I ran across the village, to the direction of the giant Ekwensu, flying in the sky.
I stopped at the sight of the Ekwensu. It breathed fire from its mouth. It saw me, turned it’s head in my direction, looked at me with it’s blood shot eyes, as though it found what it was looking for. It flew down, it’s giant wings flapping steadily. It landed on the ground. It’s fiery eyes on me. It breathed ocean of fire on me. I stood, the fire flew around not touching me.
My eyes turned red, my palms clenched into a fist, my loin cloth blazing.
”Aniiii oooo, Aniiii oooo, nne anam akpo gi ooo,” I shouted ”goddess of Obodoani, my mother, who sent me from the home in the sky, into the womb of a human to protect her people.” I chanted, as my feet stamped the earth heavily, rivers of fire flying past me. My eyes held Ekwensu’s gaze. I leaped and pressed my palm against it’s forehead, draining all its strength; it fell to the ground, on its side, with a loud thud. I drew my cutlass and stabbed it into its chest, drew my cutlass and punched my palm into the gash and dragged out it’s heart. I raised it’s heart to the sky. It’s blood, warm and dripping down my upraised arm, my fingers clenched around the heart; the size of a melon. I looked down on the creature, it was unlike anything I had ever seen or heard of. It sure had to be ‘The Ekwensu’. I mused. I looked up, in the distance stood Ugwuani, magnificent and high, it’s summit kissing the heavens.
A voice rumbled in the sky. . .

Join the storytelling. Share your 300-word story in the comments section below.

With love,
Chioma Ngaikedi.

African Stories

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