Writuer

  A cloth worn, With a last breath it’s torn. The carcass A vessel made of clay and bones, The only robe the soul has worn. The carcas Baths with care, But a few days the dust reclaimed it share. The carcas When the soul takes a trip, The carcass left to drip. The carcass  No longer bleeds, Its purpose served, its final deeds. The carcass Once kissed by life’s flame, No voice, no name. The carcass Adorned in silk or rags, the same, Returns to dust, without acclaim. The carcass Not the end, but the shell released, While the soul journeys In search of peace. Patrick Ekong ©️

The sound of my phone vibrating on the wooden bedside table jolted me awake. Eyes heavy with sleep, I squinted at the screen to read a message from my friend, Albert. “Hi Pat. Check your DM…” were the first words on the notification. “It’s about your girl…” followed almost immediately as I picked up the phone. I clenched my jaw and let out a frustrated breath. “Hey bro, what’s up with your usual chitchat?” I texted back. “I saw your girlfriend today at Tropicana with a guy…” his next message came in almost instantly. “I’m not interested. Jane and I aren’t together anymore,” I replied. “What happened?” Albert probed, poking his nose in as usual. “I’m not in the mood for a lengthy explanation. Just know that Jane and I are no longer together,” I shot back. I dropped the phone angrily, glanced at the wall clock above me, and realized I was almost late for my reading class. My exams were only days away, but the days leading up to them had been hell—perhaps the most traumatic days of my lif...

June 12th, I received a call from a client for a pre-wedding shoot, an opportunity to capture the joy and anticipation of a couple's special day. Like in every other case, I had promised to deliver excellence to sell my craft. At about 3:45 pm, I hailed a cab to the iconic Four Stars by Sheraton, Ikot Ekpene, a majestic edifice that befits such an important moment in the life of would-be couples.  One thing I love about photography is that it gives one the opportunity to create memories while being part of it, firsthand. As I arrived, rain started to drizzle, casting a romantic spell over the surroundings, and this was a few minutes past the hour of 4 pm. I dialed my client, and a voice filled with excitement answered, "Reuben, we've been waiting for you, where are you?" "I'm at the hotel reception, where are you guys?" I queried. "Tell the receptionist you are heading to room 114, second floor, and please be fast about it; my fiancée is getting anx...