Hi Cribbers, It's that time we've been waiting for. It's time for THE REVIEWS!.
Let's begin ✨

PEN MASTER 001 THE PEN REAPER

The chocolate cake stared at Nifemi, shouting her name as she poked a fork into it.

“Oluwa-Nifemi! You had better not be on your bed!” The brown dessert shouted, placing its chocolate hands on its cream-filled body.

“Nifemi!” The cake shouted, then everywhere went pitch black.

Nifemi grudgingly opened her eyes, wincing as her mother's shouting pierced through the morning calm. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and let out a deep sigh.

"Mama has already started her daily concert," Nifemi thought as she tossed her blanket onto the floor.

“Nifemi! If you don't get up from that bed right now, I will come in there and drag you by your eyelashes!” The sonic boom of her mother’s voice vibrated through their house, threatening Nifemi's simple existence.

Nifemi groaned as she reached for her phone. “Six, forty-three,” she read, the small screen illuminating her oval face, before she tossed it to the empty side of the bed. “Two more minutes,” she mumbled.

“Oluwa-Nifemi! You want me to come and bathe you on that bed, abi?!” Mama Nifemi’s loud warnings continued because, God forbid, she spoke at regular volume. Nifemi often wondered if her mother saw the walls of their house as Jericho walls and had made it her mission to ensure they fell down flat.

A tired Nifemi sat up in bed, contemplating if her mother's wrath was as bad as what she would endure at school. The loud bang on her door that nearly sent it flying awoke the superwoman in Nifemi and made the decision for her; school was her safest option. Nifemi smashed her knees on the ground, greeting her mother.

“Ekaro, ma! - Good morning, ma! How was your night?” Nifemi smiled with much affection.

Mama Nifemi's expression softened for a minute, then snapped back to its usual sternness. "Tsk, Nifemi, why are you always late? Is it until I start shouting that you know you should get ready for school?" Mama Nifemi complained, her voice oozing with tiredness that came from having to relive the same process each morning.

“Start shouting?” Nifemi rolled her eyes in her mind. “So you haven't even started shouting?” Nifemi thought. It was obvious they had different definitions of ‘start shouting.’

Mama Nifemi adjusted the jacket of her blue pants-suit. "Do you know what will happen if you don't get into that top university, ehn Nifemi?"

Nifemi's heart sank, her mind racing with the consequences. "I know, Mama." She replied, her head hung low and her voice mellow.

Mama Nifemi sighed. Why did she have to go through so much stress when she wasn't the one trying to get into the university? "I swear, sometimes I wonder if you're even listenig to me."

“Don't be angry, mama. I was just trying to lay my bed before you walked in.” Nifemi lied, trying to appease the angry goddess in front of her.

“Oya, hurry up and get ready for school; you know how your father can be if we are late!” Mama Nifemi warned, closing the door behind her and leaving Nifemi to get ready for school.

“Another day to pretend like I enjoy being tortured!” Nifemi smiled at the mirror, giving her reflection a thumbs up.

A quick shower and a little spring cleaning later, Nifemi came rushing down the stairs, one shoe in her mouth and the other on her foot, unbuckled.

“The day you come down fully dressed, pigs will probably start to fly.” Mama Nifemi rolled her eyes, handing her daughter a few one thousand naira notes. “For the whole week!” Mama Nifemi cautioned, pointing a well-manicured finger at her daughter’s nose.

Nifemi smiled, rolling her eyes and stuffing her money into the pocket of her checkered skirt. “Thank you, mama, and I love you too.” She said, grabbing two green apples from the fruit tray on the marble dining table.

“Are we set?” The rich timbre of Papa Nifemi's voice filled the dining room. Like his wife, he smelled of old money and fresh fruits.

“Morning Papa,” Nifemi greeted, passing her father an apple from the fruit tray. Papa Nifemi's warm smile and gentle kiss on her forehead brought a sense of calm to Nifemi’s busy morning.

"Thank you, beauty and brains. Has your mother finished deflating your eardrums yet?" Papa Nifemi teased, winking at his wife.

Mama Nifemi shot back, "Mba, mba, leave me. You and your daughter will be doing like tortoises, then you'll gang up and accuse me of shouting! I don't shout; I'm just passionate about getting things done properly and on time.” Mama Nifemi defended herself.

Pele, passion of Christ.” Papa Nifemi laughed, leading his family out of the house and into the car where the driver was waiting for them.

The sound of lively chatter informed Nifemi that she had finally arrived at school. Nifemi observed her schoolmates through the tinted glass of their Range Rover. “Where is Queen?” she thought, scanning through the busy students.

“You'll probably see Queen when you get out of the car.” Papa Nifemi smiled, opening the door for his daughter.

Nifemi smiled, giving her father a little cuddle.

“Have a nice day, beauty!” Papa Nifemi waved to his daughter, his long fingers decorated with only his wedding band and a Rolex on his thin wrists.

“You too, Papa and Mama!" Nifemi replied, blowing two kisses to her parents.

As the Range Rover disappeared into the morning traffic, Nifemi took a deep breath, preparing herself for another day at Eden High. The imposing school gates loomed before her, a constant reminder of her imprisonment, but Nifemi held her head up high as she walked into the courtyard.

“Nife!” Oluchi's shrill voice grated on Nifemi's nerves as the fair girl skipped over to Nifemi, a plastic smile plastered on her face.

Oluchi was the life version of “a face only a mother could love." With her bigger-than-life nose and tiny eyes, Oluchi wasn't the ugliest girl alive, but she certainly wasn't pretty.

“I guess being fair doesn't make everyone look fine.” Nifemi laughed in her mind, accepting that she would have to make do with ‘complimenting’ Oluchi in her mind.

"Nife! I've been waiting for you!" Oluchi said, snatching Nifemi's arm as they walked towards the classrooms. Nifemi forced a polite smile, her eyes scanning the courtyard for an escape.

Oluchi's gaze lingered on Nifemi's mini-afro. "You're carrying virgin hair to school? Don't you think it's a bit...unkempt?"

Nifemi eyed her ‘friend’, biting back a retort and opting for a neutral "It's comfortable.”

“What about Queen? Where is she?” Nifemi looked around the courtyard, desperate to be free from her captor.

“Speak of the devil!” Oluchi whispered, giggling like those lovestruck, teenage girls in the American movies.

Queen glided into the courtyard, a confident stride, the hint of a smile, and a pair of striking wedge heels all whispered secrets. Nifemi's mind flashed to Charles, and she wondered if Queen had finally succumbed to his charms and had fallen head over heels for the prep prefect.

Oluchi waved Queen over, her hands frantically calling to the palm tree of a girl, drawing more than enough attention to her and Nifemi.

“Help me”,  Nifemi mouthed, begging Queen to free her from Oluchi.

Queen giggled before grabbing Oluchi’s attention. “So, Oluchi, how was your weekend?” Queen asked the fair girl, entangling her hand with Oluchi's, rescuing Nifemi in the process.

Oluchi didn't care that Nifemi was out of her grasp, she was more concerned in telling Queen of her rich girl problems and Nifemi was fine with that.

“I guess I might survive today, after all.” Nifemi let out a sigh of relief.

Commentary: Let's hear from the Judges.

JUDGES REVIEW

JUDGE NADIA SULAIMAN

Not bad, Pen Reaper. Although at the beginning confused me a bit, but I was able to sit up and reread; that helped me enough to understand what was going on. Nonetheless, I feel there could have been a better way to start this work, even if the cake and brown dessert had to speak. Even if I understood it to be just a dream.

A few mechanical errors in your work, but I believe that was just an accident. It's not of you to make those kind of mistakes. Please try to edit your work over and over and make sure you aren't leaving mistakes anywhere. Nonetheless, you're a great writer. I just wish you made more out of your story.

JUDGE OLAITAN DAVIS

Pen reaper

Hmm.

It's like this your pen is running out of fuel, and this is not the time for it to do that. Fuel don cost, we all know. But try to buy and refuel ehn?

You can do better than this. I know that. So please do.

Okay so a few corrections, and I'll keep them brief. Oluwanifemi is one name and not a compound name like you wrote in your work. I also noticed a few missed punctuations, and I'll tell you to cross-check your work thoroughly before submitting.

Great job so far, penreaper. And don't forget to buy fuel so your pen can continue reaping and you won't be left behind.

JUDGE UMAR HASAN

All right, Mr. Pen Reaper.

Cracks Knuckles

Let's get this.

First off, let's get the "Oluwa-Nifemi" thing out of the way. Olúwanifemi is a full name. A normal name. And not a compound name. So the use of a hyphen between "Oluwa" and "Nifemi" isn't needed. Do you understand?

Next, it's imperative that you carry out thorough research on things you're not familiar with that you'd like to write about. You see, in your story, you failed to capture the elements that make up a Yoruba family. Of course, not every yoruba family is the same, but they will definitely have similarities. Your story gave off this "Yoruba mothers like to yell all the time" kinda thing. Okay, fine. Maybe the woman was yelling. But the fact that she was dressed in a suit didn't quite match the yelling thing. I feel, even if you had wanted to portray that kinda thing, you could have done it better. Way better. For the greeting part, "ma" is not exactly a Yoruba word. The fact that you're already adding 'E' to the 'kaaro' signifies you're greeting someone older. Doh you get this? If you take note of little details as these when writing, you'll see how much your story mirrors reality.

Now to your story. To be honest, I laughed at the first part—the cake part. And while I understand what you were trying to do, I didn't quite see the need for the cake as your story progressed. It didn't add anything to the plot. And the plot itself—forgive me, but you could have done better. I mean, you're *001, Pen Reaper*,  and to whom much is given, much is expected. I didn't expect this from you, honestly.

After reading the whole story, I'm not sure how much justice you did to the theme of the stage. I didn't see the word play or irony or satire and the rest. I didn't see the humor.

All that said, though, I still think you're an amazing writer! Your storytelling abilities are absolutely wonderful. You've come a long way. And I'm proud of you. Very proud.

JUDGE GIWA FALADE

I'm not even sure how to start this review.

Honestly, I don’t think this is the time to slack in your stories because this is a very crucial stage in the competition and mediocrity is something you should throw far away.

You have written very good stories in this competition, Pen Reaper, but this one? This one is an absolute miss. The beginning really put me off, and when I am put off like that, it’s hard to get me back to a place where I will enjoy the story. I didn’t enjoy your story.

I mean, you attempted with the humor, but it wasn’t a funny story. You tried to make it relatable but also tried being a little extra with it just to make it funny. Also, it’s “Oluwanifemi” not “Oluwa-Nifemi”. It’s not a compound name, it’s one name. And in a Yoruba house hold, they don’t call the father “Papa”. Instead, it’s “Baba”. Mama still works, but “Iya” is more appropriate- “Baba Nifemi, Iya Nifemi”.

In all insincerity, I expected more.

COMMENTARY: NEXT!

005 Trafalgar

Be ruthless.

I don't know why Mom wanted an open casket. I looked down at my dad, so perfectly still and cold, hands gloved and pinned to his side. Usually at funerals, people liked to conjure good memories of whoever was deceased. A mental regurgitation of the 'good old times' and the tears came pouring. It was foolproof and absolutely necessary, especially if the deceased was worth thirty-six billion dollars. Well they were going to have to think long and hard about any good memories with my father.

Somehow, even as I looked at his almost serene face, I couldn't remember anytime there wasn't a scowl on it. He never had anything or anyone he wanted to love without stabbing it, to see if it would love him still. My mom did, however I think he just really wanted someone that would stab him back.

Adeyinka; my girlfriend put an arm around me, rubbing my shoulder. “I'm really sorry babe, he must have been a good man.”

I grunted. “Maybe there's a better chance now.”

She shrugged. “At least he was wealthy.”

I eyed her.

“Nawa oo, you're not going to give him any props? He couldn't have been that bad.”

I sighed. “Do you know what his last request to my mom was?”

She shook her head, her beautiful curly hair bouncing.

“Well he asked her to make sure to collect his money from my Uncle Iwobi”

“What for?”

“Apparently, they'd made a bet while he was sick. If Uncle Iwobi died within a year after he’d passed, he'd win the bet. Diagnosed with brain cancer and still found a way to turn it into a competition.”

Hearing this she glanced up at me, her eyes crinkled at the corners the way they did when she was trying not to laugh. “Well, is she going through with it?”

“I wish she would. And to be honest Uncle Iwobi IS old. It could be any minute now.”

My mom beckoned at us. The service was about to start.

******

The service was boring, not that I expected much of it. However, I wasn't very bored. I and Adeyinka had taken a corner backseat in the large church. It was a vantage point of some sorts, although, from the panicked looks she kept throwing, my mom did not approve.

My mom had been devoted to my father, despite how hard he was to love, and it was for none of the reason his other wives nor their children did. Daughter of a sultan, she never really needed his money. I think that's why they worked so well and much longer than my stepmoms. She—unlike them—understood that she would only be second place to his prized empire.

Adeyinka squeezed my hands, which she'd never left since the service started. “What is it?”

“Don't look too fast, behind us there's a man that has been ogling me for the past thirty minutes,” she whispered.

Casually, I looked back and sure enough there was a man looking straight at us. Save for the few strands of gray hair scattered across his head, he was mostly bald, probably in his late fifties, and had jaundiced eyes. As soon as he noticed me looking back at him he waved. Forcing a smile I waved back.

“You know him?” Adeyinka asked.

I sighed. “Yeah, that's Uncle Mo. He probably thinks you're fourteen or something. Ignore him.”

“We're not going to just glide over that like it's normal!” she whispered forcefully, “What do you mean he thinks I'm fourteen? And what kind of mumu name is 'Uncle Mo’?”

I almost laughed out loud. “His name is LESTER Adebiyi.”

Took her a full minute but soon her eyes lit up. Her mouth dropped open. “‘Mo’ plus ‘Lester,’ as in molester!” she asked, “You call your uncle a molester?”

“First, he's not my uncle, and I only started calling him that because of my step siblings. I thought it was a harmless, inside joke. Apparently he was a serial molester. He was my dad's lawyer.”

“And your father didn't fire him?”

“Well, he is a damn good lawyer, and my dad couldn't be bothered by things like that. They were just beneath him or so he said when my mom found out.”

Adeyinka didn't speak again till the end of the service but I could tell she was irritated. She had a tell where she bit her lips and dug her middle finger rhythmically into her palm.

“Don't worry, he doesn't know you're just seventeen,” I said with a smirk.

She promptly let go of my hand, although by the time it got to the archbishop's sermon, she'd returned her hands back into mine.

The archbishop was a small, wiry man, with thick gray hair and a bit of a paunch. He had a comically large ring on his left index finger, which had probably touched the lips of the entire diocese. Back when he'd visited us, my dad had been the only one to refuse kissing that ring. Said it felt unorthodox. Apparently, he'd gotten away with that too.

The archbishop cleared his voice. “We are gathered here, in the orchard of our Lord's glory for our friend, father, brother and comrade, Mr Chidi Kingsley Animalu…”

Animalu. My father had shipped me off to a private boarding school in Abuja. I'd begged him to let me use my mom's maiden name instead but he wouldn't hear it. I tried hiding my surname for a while, and it worked until JSS 3. Some guy found my Student I.D, and suddenly, everyone in school found the letter “u” after my surname bothersome. For a few weeks this went on until I got tired and picked a fight with someone. I got beat up so bad, I spent a week in the infirmary, and the rest of the semester gaslighting anyone that listened into believing it was an unfair fight.

I was shaken awake by Adeyinka. The sermon had ended and it was time for the procession to the cemetery. Usually, there was supposed to be a reception or party of some sorts, a celebration of life. My dad forbade it, so all that was left was to bury him.

Joining the rest of the congregation, I stood up, swabbing at the eye gunk with my hanky, while Adeyinka worked on the drool stains. Just as soon as the choir began the processional hymn, a woman on the front pew burst out crying. She wore heavy makeup, Botox, fake eyelashes, and nails so long they might have been talons. She seemed to be in her late fifties, however, she was either ignorant of it or she was a little too aware. Knowing my stepmom, it was definitely the latter.

“They killed him! They murdered him! It was her . . . the witch, Ekwensu!” she screamed, letting out small gasps in between each word.

The congregation stirred, craning their necks and some sneaking out their phones. The choir, their melody compromised, was also in disarray. I, Adeyinka, and “the witch” stood perfectly still, silently agreeing with each other to wait out her insanity.

Still crying, my stepmom was escorted out by the security guards, while her daughter, my step sister, followed sheepishly. I liked her most out of all my step siblings. Of her four siblings, she alone didn't bother to vie for our father's favor with the rest of them. She knew she didn't stand a chance. He was too jealous of what he'd given his children.

The procession continued and soon enough, we were at the cemetery. I half-expected the gloomy clouds to let down a shower and people to pop out their black umbrellas just to complete the clichés of a funeral.

But the thoughts quickly dispersed with the dark clouds and the sun came out with its full glow, as though it never even went away. Even the heavens seemed to reward him for who he was.

The coffin was lowered, turns were taken. Inch by inch, the large heap of sand was shoved into the six feet hole the coffin was lowered into accompanied with false tears. We could have avoided all this hassle if the old bastard would have just agreed to a mausoleum.

When it got to my turn, I let go of Adeyinka’s hand and walked forward. I dug up a large chunk of sand with the shovel and dumped it on his coffin. I considered dabbing the corners of my eyes, maybe even sniffling, but it didn't matter. Nobody autopsied a brain cancer patient, especially when he died with a smile.

I hadn't planned it, but it was too easy not to. Why wait till he got bored of my mom? Write her out of the will and into the corner like he did the rest? So I took care of it. Insulin injection just below the tongue. He'd woken up. He could have saved himself. But he had one final, true request.

“It was never going to be them. They hesitated in both love and hatred. You didn't. Be ruthless.”

Commentary: What do you think? Let's hear from the Judges.

JUDGES REVIEW

JUDGE NADIA SULAIMAN

One thing I noticed about you is that you have very nice opening lines… but you're not sure how to use them.

Your first line called me in immediately. I actually laughed. It felt a bit dark to laugh at something like that, but I did. It felt like something I'd see in a Tyler Perry movie. But, then the extra words after it… I don't know. That first line alone should have stood on its own. Fine-tune it a bit to give a bit more effect, yes, but your story should have started with that epic one line start. It'd have been better.

And please be careful to thoroughly edit your work, yeah? In my head, I kept putting punctuations and correcting punctuations in many parts of your work, and again, that's unlike you.

All that aside, I liked your story sha. It passed the theme test. Majorly because it was subtle, but the puns were intended. You weren't trying too hard to be funny, as humor doesn't require you to be particularly laugh-out-loud funny; it just needs you to be clever. And the whole ‘Animalu’ paragraph took me out though.😂 Especially the way you wrote it. It wasn't a perfect work, but surely it was a good read.

JUDGE OLAITAN DAVIS

I never expected reading about a funeral to be this light-hearted. (For lack of a better word.)
I enjoyed your story quite well, and the little things you did here and there. Mo-Lester, Animalu.
Yeah, I would be pissed if I had a surname like that. The MC and Adeyinka's convo was spot on for me. I think that's my favorite part of your work.

Trafalgar, could have done a lot more with some parts of the story. Like when his stepmother's dramatics began, I expected it to be more comical than that.

Then that plot twist. Wonderful.

Well, all the best to you, Trafalgar.

JUDGE UMAR HASSAN

Beautiful start I must say, Trafalgar. Your opening lines are always magic. But pardon me, kind sir, I'm not sure I found the humor in your story. Or was it dark humor? Maybe it was. Looking back now, maybe it was dark humor. And as much as I'd like to expand this review and go deeper, I don't think I have much to say. Other than, yes, your story was interesting, but you still need to work on holding your reader the entire way.

Like I said, your opening lines are always magic. But even that isn't enough. Especially when the rest of the narrative does nothing more to keep you hooked. Do you understand me?

In spite of all that, though, you're a pretty fantastic writer. And you've scaledn through all hurdles to reach this stage. So, yes, I'm proud of you.

JUDGE GIWA FALADE

Tralfagar, your story would have little killed as a plot twist. I mean, the plot twist at the end was very dope. I never expected it. But in line with the theme, I don’t know.

You know how to open your stories. The beginning was pretty gripping, and your descriptions were top notch, but I didn’t really find anything humorous about the story. The only part that might have elicited a chuckle from me was the whole “Uncle Mo, Lester, Uncle Molester” thing. That was clever by the way… and maybe that whole Animalu twist, I liked that, but that was about it.

There were so many things to take advantage of that you did. Like when the Step Mom was acting out, that was an opportunity for you to make the story so funny, but you killed it- and no, not in a good way. It just fell flat.

I enjoyed reading your story but… in line with the theme? It didn’t dey like that. This is certainly not the time to be slacking.

COMMENTARY: The Judges seemed to like this story. Let's hear what they have to say about the rest 🫠.

PEN MASTER 010 Seth

"Oh, you're awake. For a second, I thought you were actually dead."

Tolani's eyes fluttered open. Her eyes searched for the bearer of the voice.

Deji, her unlikely companion leaned against the wall, sipping caprison.

Tolani's gaze locked onto the stranger. He was about her age, maybe a year younger. His dark skin glistened with a subtle sheen, and his expressive brown eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Brave of you to look me dead in the eyes.” He chuckled, “Get it?”

His sharp jawline and full lips curved into a perpetual smirk, as if he were privy to a secret joke. His black hair was cropped in a trendy fade, with subtle waves that added to his effortless charm.

"Who are you?" Tolani asked, her voice sounded hoarse. She felt different,  she couldn't just place a finger on what, yet.

"I'm Deji, " he replied with a wide grin "Your new BFF."

“Best Friend Forever?” She asked.

"Best Friend in Fatalities. Forever is a long time." He replied and she almost laughed.

This had to be a joke, she always knew she'd be set up in a reality TV show but she didn't know it'll be this soon.

She moved past the low budget actor and made to search for hidden cameras, when the door to the room flung open.

A nurse walked in and began checking her monitors, that's when it hit Tolani. Her eyes fell on her body still clad in hospital wear, and then the body lying down on the bed being checked.

Blood of Jesus!

Her eyes flew to Deji. "Don't tell me." She pointed accusatory fingers at Deji, who raised his hands in mock surrender, making a motion of sealing his lips.

"I didn't say anything."

"Who are you?" She asked again, her voice lowered as if scared the nurse would hear her.

"I'm Death. More like Death's apprentice, but no one's really checking that. Personally I feel it's just a ti-"

"You're here for me?" She cut short his rambling.

"No. For your hospital room decorations. Of course I'm here for you.” He deadpanned.

Her face paled.

She could taste the pepper from the hot akara she ate last, finding its way back to her throat as she held onto the bed frame for support.

"I'm dead?" She managed to ask after some seconds.

Deji sauntered to the door after the nurse left. “ You're not dead per se, you're just in a coma." He answered and her eyes shot up in surprise.

"Ah, thank God" She exhaled deeply, “You should have said it from the beginning naw. You're bad at your work, no wonder you're still an apprentice.” She added and before Deji could respond, she turned her attention  to her body lying on the bed.

Her goddess braids spread around her in a tangled mess, and not in her bonnet like she would have arranged them.

Her lips looked dry and crusty, and Tolani who was usually a very superficial person, grunted at this.

"What?" Deji asked.

"It's not like I'm not grateful for being alive, but the least they could do was tie my hair up. My brother sent me 15k for this hair, and see how it's scattered, it has not done one week o"

Deji stared at her like she had said the most incredulous thing ever. " You just had a brush with death and that's all you're worried about?” She stared at him and he sighed, pinching the breach of his nose.

“Why are you here?” She asked.

“Your brain is giving up, we need to give it a reason to stay alive, I'm hoping finding out who pushed you will help,” he continued.

“I was pushed?”

“Suprise suprise!” Deji exclaimed.

Tolani stood still for a moment, one hand on her chin as if in deep thought. "What's today's date?" She suddenly asked.

Confusion marred Deji's face, but he answered. "October 4th."

"So you're saying if I find who tried to kill me, I could wake up today?" Deji couldn't see where this was going so he nodded.

"In that case, can we wait until tomorrow?” She continued.

This time his mouth fell open. In all the three years he'd worked for Death since his 14th birthday, he'd never met anyone less eager to return to life.

"Why?"

"I was distracted by this new Korean series and forgot to complete my assignment-"

"So you want to die because you didn't do an assignment!" Deji yelled, ending her speech.

He found it appalling how casually she wanted to throw away her chance to live.

Deji himself hadn't always been Death's charming, sarcastic apprentice. He was once a small boy living in Lagos.

Born Oladeji Ademola, Deji grew up in a bustling Surulere neighborhood. He was fascinated by the mysteries of life and death, often trying to resurrect dead animals.

Tragedy struck when Deji's family was involved in a fatal car accident on the Lagos-Ibadan Expressway. Deji, the sole survivor, was left with crippling grief.

As he struggled to cope, Deji discovered his unique connection to the afterlife. He became Death's apprentice, learning the art of guiding souls.

His loyalty to Death stemmed from a promise: "Help me collect souls, and I'll ensure your family's memories live on." Deji never wanted to forget his family.

“No, it's not like that, you don't know Professor Mojekwu. Just come back tomorrow so we can try again." Tolani interfered.

Ignoring her words and reminding himself why he was there, Deji grabbed Tolani's hands as the hospital room dissolved around them.

Tolani recognized the new place as the University of Lagos campus, surrounded by familiar buildings and bustling students, and Deji watched as she took in the familiar scene before her.

"Post-UTME day." She whispered.

Uche and Lola, two of Tolani's three friends, stood nearby engaged in a heated argument.

"You'll do what I say or I'll tell Tolani about you and Femi." Uche threatened.

Lola's eyes flashed with anger. "Try it and see."

Tolani watched the exchange, a smirk spreading across her face. Deji expected anger or an outburst, but she did neither.

He raised a quizzical brow. "You knew she was sleeping with your boyfriend?"

"Boyfriend ke? Please, I met Femi the day I wrote JAMB. I didn't even want to give him my number, but he kept pestering me."

Tolani's eyes lit up suddenly like she'd just remembered something funny. "It makes sense now, all the so-called toilet infection Lola claimed to have were from him.” She laughed to herself.

Despite himself, Deji asked “What do you mean?"

She turned to him amused  “ Femi is a walking STI. His friends even nicknamed him Femi Gonorrhea, and around when I started talking to him, Lola began itching badly down there.  She said it was toilet infection. How did I not put two and two together?” She burst out laughing again.

"It's people like you that don't make it to heaven." Deji said under his breath as he grabbed Tolani's hand again. "Let's continue."

But Tolani was already pulling away from him. "Wait, that's me and Nneoma coming."

Just then, the real Tolani and Nneoma walked towards the two friends, bearing double fanta and gala. The crunch of gravel beneath their feet announced their arrival.

"Uche, they didn't have the N150 gala so I bought the N250 one." Tolani said, handing Uche and Lola the snacks. "So you're owing me N1300 altogether."

Uche threw a smile her way. "Can't you fashi the money?"

She shot him a glare  "Don't be unfortunate, better pay me my money.”

Nneoma, oblivious to the tension, used her knee to burst the gala wrapper and took a huge bite.

"Mmm, gala is life!" She exclaimed.

Uche glared at her in disgust . "Just now you were complaining about how hard the exam was and-."

"Abeg o, exam isn't the true test of knowledge," Nneoma said, cutting him short.

"Olodo don drop quote." Uche retorted and everyone laughed.

"Can we go now?" Deji tried to pull Tolani back to reality.

"Let's rest, I'm tired." Tolani whined as they sat down on a pavement where they could watch the four friends.

Deji rolled his eyes at her. "We're not even walking, how are you tired?"

Despite Deji’s irritation, he conceded and they both sat back on the pavement, the last thing he wanted was to have a soul pass out when he was on  duty.

The last time it happened he almost lost his job. The young man had refused to believe he was dead because it was April fool's day.

After an hour, he made them appear in a cramped cyber cafe.

Uche was huddled in a corner, speaking in hushed tones to a hooded figure. "... just make sure it's not traceable." He said, handing over a wad of cash.

The figure nodded and disappeared and retreated just as Uche turned and locked eyes with the real Tolani.

Guilt etched his features. "Tee, what are you doing here?” He stuttered.

Her eyes narrowed. "Just passing by, you?"

Uche's smile looked forced. "Just, eh, helping a friend with a project."
Tolani's gaze lingered, suspicion simmering.

"Do you want to know what he was talking about before you walked in?" Deji asked beside the spirit of Tolani. She nodded.

"He wasn't sure he would pass the post UTME exam, so he paid someone to hack into the school's website and change his results."

Surprise painted her face. "Is that why he tried to kill me? " She hissed in annoyance. "On top something that doesn't concern me? Foolish boy."

“Don't be too sure.” Deji said.

And once more, her vision blurred, and she found herself standing at the foot of the staircase leading to her living room.

"This is the day I was pushed down the stairs." She turned to her right, but Deji was nowhere to be found. "Imagine dying in your living room." She muttered.

Suddenly, she saw someone shove her body from behind, sending her stumbling down the stairs.

She caught a glimpse of her killer, but she couldn't see her face, because she was hooded.

Yes, her... Her murderer was a woman.

Deji suddenly materialized beside her. "Did you see the person?" She wondered where he'd been.

Tolani shook her head, she hadn't.

"I hate dead ends." Deji quietly muttered beside her.

Tolani would have chuckled if she wasn't  desperate for an answer.

As if on cue, the person turned and her eyes fell on someone she hadn't expected at all... Someone who acted way too oblivious to be her attempted murderer.

"Nneoma?”

Before she could fully react, she was transported back to the hospital and inside her body . A nurse hovered over her, smiling brightly as her eyes snapped open.

"Welcome back, Tolani."

Tolani's voice croaked, her throat dry. "W-where?"

The nurse helped her sit up, adjusting the pillows. "You've been in a coma, glad to have you back."

Tolani's memories remained shrouded in a fog. No recollection of her encounter with Deji.

As the nurse left to inform Tolani's loved ones, Tolani's eyes scanned the room, searching for something elusive, before her family and friends burst in, tears of joy streaming down their faces.

Uche, Nneoma and Lola all gathered around her, their eyes shining with love.

"Tolani!" her mother exclaimed, embracing her tightly.

"Uche, you're crying?" Nneoma teased lightly and Uche glared at her.

"No, it's my allergy." He replied defensively.

"Allergy to what?" Lola retorted.

"To all your stupid questions. Leave me joor." Uche was quick with it, eliciting a small laughter from them.

Tolani smiled weakly, overwhelmed. "What... happened?"

Her brother grinned. "You fell down the stairs." Her brow furrowed. Stairs? Her mind was completely blank.

The reunion continued but for some reason, she couldn't look away from Nneoma.

"Don't worry, dear. Your memories will return. Give it time." The nurse said, distracting her thoughts. She nodded, forcing a smile, even though the emptiness in her mind seemed endless.

JUDGES REVIEW

JUDGE NADIA SULAIMAN

Okay, this was definitely an engaging read.

Although, Seth you've come far enough, but I think you should do some work on pacing of your work. It all seems a bit too quick. When you are writing, try reading it and envision the events in your mind to see if the actions feel too fast or unnatural. You grab?

Also, I like how you made Tolani’s character clear, but Deji’s character fluctuated from time to time. One minute, he's playful. Another minute, he's serious. If you won't stick to a particular personality for a character, try to balance it in a way that doesn't look unnatural, right? Deji was the only one that had this issue. You did a good job with the others, even the minor characters. Although, there was never any hint why Nneoma could have been her killer. Unless I missed it.

That aside, your story was funny. The part where the nurses came in and started checking her body, I almost fainted. 😂😂 And why did she call the blood of Jesus after she's already dead?😂😂I don't know, something about these kinds of plots interest me and crack me up at the same time. I liked your plot a lot. Consider making it an actual book, my humble suggestion sha.

JUDGE OLAITAN DAVIS

What an interesting read, Seth. I can see you're doing well. I didn't initially understand the pun that Deji made or said about Tolani looking him dead in the eye, but I had to re-read again and I finally got it. Pretty good.

You could have also made a very subtle connection to how Nneoma was the culprit. I get that it was supposed to be a shocking twist or something, but it seemed like it just appeared out of nowhere.

JUDGE UMAR HASSAN

Seth Rollins

well. Well. Well. Hm. What do we have here?

Okay. So, your story? It wasn't bad. In fact, I enjoyed reading it. The suspense. The shift between scenes had me itching to know more. And I think I rolled my eyes when Death's apprentice was trying to make a  pun with the word "dead". Yes, I saw what you did there. So, yes, again, you tried.

But I'm not really sure you did enough justice to the theme of this stage. The humor was supposed to be seen throughout the story. Or at least at the end. But I don't think I saw any humor at the end.

And your punctuations—you need to work on your punctuations.

That said, you've come a long way, Seth Rollins. And I'm proud of you. Don't forget that.

JUDGE GIWA FALADE

Engaging story, but… No.

I have an issue with the way it seemed your dialogues had no pause, especially when there should have been a pause. You just write them at once, you don’t describe the speakers emotions until the end of the dialogue and that’s not how it should be. Where are you rushing to?

This dialogue for example;

"Best Friend in Fatalities. Forever is a long time." He replied and she almost laughed.

Could have been written like this.

“Best Friend in Fatalities,” he responded in an awfully bored tone as he picked at his fingernails. “Forever is a long time,” he added, sparing me a glance.

Or this dialogue;

"No. For your hospital room decorations. Of course I'm here for you.” He deadpanned.

There is supposed to be an indication that shows the two tones used to deliver this dialogue.

“No, for your hospital room decorations,” he answered, sarcasm dripping in his tone. “Of course, I’m here for you!” He threw his hands up in exasperation.

There were so many dialogues like that, just kept running. That’s not how to write. You are supposed to create a world in the mind of your readers through your descriptions, not this.

And please, how is Nneoma the killer? Where did that come from?

COMMENTARY: So Cribbers, this is the end of the reviews for this batch. Anticipate the next batch ✨