Hi Cribbers, it's the third batch of the Judges Review and I know we're excited 🌝.

In this stage we have the following contestants:

010 SETH
011 THE SCRIBE
013 BOWL OF FIRE
014 LILY BIRD

LET'S BEGIN!

010 SETH

“If you know you cannot run fast, come to this side.” Adinne the leader of our group says and only I step out.

We are all underneath the mango tree  where we have our weekly meeting, Adinne is sitting on a low branch while we stand around her.

“This girl, upon you have long legs you cannot run.” Charly, the fattest girl in the whole street, says and everyone laughs.

Their laughter burns my ear and I bite my tongue to stop myself from crying, Charly always has something bad to say about me, one day I'll feed that girl sand.

“See this fatty bum bum talking, Enem shift back before she swallows you.” Adinne says and everyone laughs even more.

This is why I like Adinne. She always has a more insultive thing to say to someone who insults another person. I smile at her.

We are 6 girls in total: Achi and Arum, the two short ugly twins, are from the street next to ours, but they come to our street to play because we all go to the same school.

Uche, the very quiet one that always smells like ogiri isi.

Charly, the fatty bum bum whose mummy owns the mama-put down the street and Adinne whose father is a military soldier or is it a policeman, I don't know, the main thing is that everybody fears them.

“Ofele oya come out here and say what happened to you.” Adinne commands and Ofele, uche’s 6-year old sister who has been standing here along steps in between us.

She smells worse than Uche so I have to move back a little, so I can breathe.

“Aboy pushed me down.” She says and bursts out crying. The twins make a sound, the type people make when they are surprised.

“That stupid boy!” Achi, the older of the twins, says, twisting her face to be more ugly than it usually is.

“Nonsense.”Arum says, repeating the only English word she knows.

“It's because he entered jss1, he's now feeling like a big boy.” Charly says, and Adinne tells all of them to keep quiet.

“Is that all?” Adinne asks Ofele.

“No. Chugo and Emmanuel also hit me ball on my head and told me that I'm smelling.” she says and starts crying again.

“Maybe that's not what happened, you know this girl likes lying.” Uche says, talking for the first time.

“Ewu! abi it's because you like Aboy that's why you’re saying this thing” Achi shouts, pouring small spit on Uche’s face.

“Nonsense.” Arum agrees.

Ofele is still crying and Charly is telling her sorry, Uche calls the twins monkeys, and they start coming close to beat her. I try to separate them, but they push me aside, and I land on Charly who threatens to beat me.

Soon we are all shouting and passersby are looking at us.

Adinne hops down from the branch she's sitting on, and we all pause, even Charly who has fought two boys at once is no match for Adinne. Just last week, she made Obiajulu walk home naked because he kicked his ball inside the sand rice we were cooking.

Adinne can do things that people our age can't even think of doing.

She doesn't shout at us like she normally does when we start fighting each other, she just pulls Ofele to her side and cleans her face, telling her sorry. She looks up at Uche.

"Are you for us or against us?” She asks her, and we all turn waiting for her reply.

“I'm for you people.” she replies.

“Good.” She turns to Charly. “Do you still have that pepper-water balloon we made on Wednesday?” she asks and Charly nods. “Bring them.”

“Achi, do you know where the boys are playing ball today?”

“Yes, at Jackie's house.” Achi answers.

“Ok.” She's facing all of us, “Ofele, go home, the rest of you should also go home, wear what will allow you to run very fast and come back.”

“Yes boss!” We say together and she looks at me.

“Enem, you’re going to learn how to run today.”

*********************************

Within a few minutes we all assemble back, wearing leggings and rubber slippers, Charly is carrying a bucket filled with balloons that have pepper water inside them.

We are going to show them pepper.

Jackie’s house is the biggest house in the street. My mother said Adinne’s mother said his father used to do 419 but I haven't told anybody because I'm not sure.

As we arrive at the gate of his house, we can hear them shouting goal from inside. I wait for Adinne to suggest how we will sneak in, but instead she starts knocking on the gate, we all look at one another confused.

“Are we not going to follow from the hole in the wall at the back of the house?” I say,
speaking for everyone.

“No." she continues knocking “Only those that want to do evil things sneak in from behind.” She replies with a smile on her face, the type she has when she's about to do something crazy.

“Who be that!” The gate man yells opening the gate, looking angry. His anger quickly goes away when he sees Adinne.

“We brought something for the boys.” she says and starts walking in before he allows her to, he doesn't say anything. As I said before, everyone is afraid of them.

The boys are all playing ball in the middle of the compound, and they stop playing as soon as they see us, we stop at the side but Adinne keeps going forward until she grabs their ball.

“Look at these children, o.” Emmanuel says and the boys laugh, “Come on, give us our ball!” He shouts and starts walking towards Adinne. For a second, I get scared, but Adinne stands her ground.

“One of your people messed with mine.” She says, and the boys laugh.

“What is this one saying?” one of them says and tries to drag the ball from her, but she brings out a small knife, and they all move back, including us.

“I said, one of your own.” she stabs the ball, “messed with one of mine.”

“Start throwing!” She shouts, running to the opposite direction from where the boys are.

Before the boys can understand what is happening, we start throwing the balloons at them and as it bursts on their faces they cry out in pain, shouting that we have made them blind.

We laugh at their pain and keep throwing them the balloon, we only stop when someone opens Jackie's dog cage and the dog starts chasing us.

As we are running, Adinne falls down and though my hands are shaking in fear I manage to throw one of the balloons at the dogs’ face before it gets to her, and it starts running back in pain.

We chant victorious songs loudly as we run back to our base.

“Did you see how Enem finished that dog?” Charly says for the first time in a not insultive way and everyone, including Adinne, starts praising me.

I hope they mess with another person's sister so we can do this again.

Commentary: Ewo 😂! Let's hear from our Judges.

JUDGES REVIEW

JUDGE NADIA SULAIMAN

I like this majorly because it gives me a Diary of a Wimpy Kid vibe. It's giving, in the aspect of storytelling and narration. Although, watch out for your punctuations next time. You can have a nice work and your lack of punctuation can absolutely ruin everything. You get it? Just be careful next time. Nonetheless, you tried.

JUDGE OLAITAN DAVIS

This wasn't bad. Definitely made me remember children playing in the streets.

JUDGE NINA OGBEIDE

“Upon you have long legs?” What’s the meaning of this, please? And from your entry, I don’t think you’re serious about this competition.

JUDGE UMAR HASAN

Okay, this made me laugh. Especially at the "we are going to show them pepper" part. It was a really funny read, and yes, it made me remember my childhood. Very sneaky, Seth. Very sneaky.

JUDGE GIWA FALADE

Okay? ☹️

Commentary: Moving on...

011 THE SCRIBE

“I'm so excited to be Sofia the first,” my nephew of five years sang aloud. I chuckled at her facial expression, and the vigour to which she sang the song. She had been chewing her mouth during the other parts of the song, but on getting to this part, she had sung it so loud like  her life depended on it.

“Aunty Anna, what are those green things?” She turned her little face to me, her little big eyes blinking with curiosity.
“They are goblins,” I replied after a brief glance at the screen, my attention rapt on my laptop.
“Oh, globlin,” she attempted to repeat.
“They are cute.”
“Yeah,” I replied absent mindedly.
“Sofia, Sofia, Sofia,” she started shouting, announcing the presence of the protagonist of the cartoon on screen.
I chuckled at her excitement. Her excitement brought back fond memories. I was always excited too, whenever I and Amanda watched the cartoon.

“I want to be Sofia, the first, when I grow up,” Angel said.
“Really,” I said, shifting my gaze from my laptop, and giving her full attention, her statement intriguing me.
“I want to wear a purple dress, a tiawa and ko ko shoes and be saving the world,” she made a dramatic gesture of the world with her hands.
“Awwwn, that's cool,” I said. “You will be more beautiful than Sofia.”

“Ahhhhhh,” Angel cried out.
“What is the matter,” I rushed out of my seat to meet her.
“Nepa has taken the light,” she pouted. Looking up to check, there was truly a power outage.
“Yeah, true, those guys have taken their light,” I said with caution, ensuring I didn't swear.
“Aunty Anna, let's play Sofia the first,” she said, she tried pulling me off my feet.
“Uhn, no, I'm busy Angel,” I replied, remaining seated on the floor.
“I want to play Sofia the first,” she started crying.
“Okay, Okay,” I said. “I guess it's karma,” I sighed, rising to my feet.

I had always forced Amanda when we were younger to watch the cartoons I loved, especially Sofia the First. I would always cry whenever she changed the channel to watch her own favourite shows, and when there was a power outage were the worst moments for her, because I wasn't going to let her rest until she acted with me.
She was forced to play dress up with me, act different characters mostly villains, and victims for the different versions of disney cartoons I created.

“Aunty Anna, you will act the witch, you hear,” Angel called.
“Okay, at your service ma'am,” I mockingly saluted.
“You are an evil witch, and you will be destroyed today,” she said, entering into acting mode.
“Okay,” I said.
“You are not supposed to say okay,” she stamped her foot on the floor angrily. “You are supposed to laugh and say that you will kill me.”
“Okay, sorry ma,” I laughed at her frustrated expression.
“I cannot be destroyed, I am the most powerful witch and I will kill you today,” I tried imitating an evil laugh.
“No, you will die today,” she carried a water bottle, probably a prop for a scepter, and pointed it at me, making some noises with her mouth.
I acted like I was trying to resist a force, and fell down.
“Yehhh, the evil witch is dead,” she jumped up in joy.
“Yeahhh,” I stood up, dusted myself and pretended to be jubilating.

After about an hour, she finally released me as the power was restored.
I returned back to my system, to continue my project. I sighed in relief, though I was happy.
Acting with her might have been tiresome, but it brought back the nostalgic feeling of when I was small, when there were no worries, the only worries being, other ways to act my favourite cartoon. It was a good breather, a good distraction from the pressures at hand. But now I must return to my work as I am now an adult, no more a child.

Commentary: Let's hear from the Judges.

JUDGES REVIEW

JUDGE NADIA SULAIMAN

The only thing I'd say is that you should make use of Italics when you are writing words that are mispronouncements. Especially in dialogues. It adds this elegance to your work and makes it to look more proper and neat.

Secondly, I liked the concept of your work. I'll give it to you. You related your work to the theme. I can say you did a fair job.

JUDGE OLAITAN DAVIS

Number one: It got to us that you were under the weather. I hope you are doing fine now.

Number two: You are still doing the same thing. The same thing that was pointed out in stage one and two. SPACING!! WHERE IS THE SPACING??

JUDGE NINA OGBEIDE

Spacing. We’ve been screaming this since the beginning of the competition. Please space your work. Lack of proper spacing gives your work an amateurish vibe and it makes it hard for your audience to even enjoy the story. And your story just isn’t it. It didn’t do justice to the theme.

JUDGE UMAR HASAN

First off, I hope you're feeling a lot better now, darling? Good. So, to your first mistake: a nephew is supposed to be a boy and not a girl. Here, your MC's nephew was a girl o. And then, how come Anna could rush out of her seat and still be sitting on the floor, all at the same time? Too many mistakes fa. Too many.

JUDGE GIWA FALADE

First of all, hope you are feeling better?

Second of all, why is your work not spaced out properly?

Commentary: The next contestant is none other than....

013 BOWL OF FIRE

TITLE: The Season.

The scent of firewood-cooked Jollof rice danced through the air, making our mouths water as Tolu and I lingered around the kitchen, impatiently waiting for the food to be ready. Mom and Aunty Inà were busy preparing the meal, their laughter and chatter adding to the festive atmosphere.

Harmattan had already begun cracking our skins, and the early morning bath Aunty Inà forced us to take left us shivering. But the aroma of the Jollof rice and the pieces of fried beef that Aunty Inà gave us compensated, and filled us with anticipation of our Christmas rice.

Every year, we visited the village to spend time with our grandparents and cousins. This year, our cousins were a day late due to ongoing protests and unrest in their area, as mommy had explained.

Inside our village home, we dashed around the sitting room, the home theater blaring "I Wanna Wish You a Merry Christmas”, followed by some Christmas Yoruba-medley.

We entertained ourselves with the family photo album, filled with pictures of our grandparents and childhood memories of our mom, aunties, and uncles.
Suddenly, a knock on the door interrupted our play. Tolu went to answer while I stayed behind in curiosity.

A fair, beautiful aunty stepped inside, carrying a white cooler that I hoped was filled with food.

“Good morning, ma,” we both chorused.

“Hello, beautiful children. How are you doing?” she greeted us warmly, patting our heads.

“We are fine, ma. Do you want to see mommy? I can get her for you—” Tolu chipped in, with her wide mouth.

“No, don’t worry. I brought food for you children. Enjoy yourselves and have a nice time. Merry Christmas.” she quickly said, and then began to leave.

“Thank you, ma. God bless you,” I called after her, excitement bubbling inside me.

Immediately, Tolu grabbed the flask and hurried towards the kitchen. I quickly blocked her path.

“Where are you going?” I asked, eyebrows raised.

“To show mommy the food, of course,” she replied, puzzled.

“No, let’s eat this one before our food gets ready,” I suggested, eager to taste what was inside.

After some back and forth, Tolu reluctantly agreed. I opened the flask, revealing a mouth-watering dish of coconut rice and fried fish, the steam showing it was freshly prepared.

Tolu refused to eat with me, as she sulked on the side. I ignored her and began devouring the food. The taste was heavenly, and made my taste buds dance with joy, especially after the sad breakfast of tea and bread we had after church.

As I picked up the fried fish, Aunty Inà walked into the sitting room, her eyes widening in shock.

“Damilare, where did you get this food from?” she asked, her gaze shifting towards Tolu.

Quickly covering the flask, I prepared to answer, but Tolu cut me off.

“An aunty came to give us the food. I wanted to show you, but Dammy refused, and I had to obey him because he is older,” Tolu rapped out.

Aunty Inà sighed, placing our food on the dining table. I prayed silently that mommy wouldn’t come out of the kitchen, as I was scared of the certain ear-drags and few knocks that awaited me.

Aunty Inà sat beside me on the couch, calling Tolu to sit with her. She took the flask from my hand, carefully covering it and placing it beside the chair.

“Dammy and Tolu, I have a story to tell you, and after that, we can all eat. Are you ready?” she asked with her usual large smile.

Of course, who on Earth would say no to Aunty Inà's beautiful stories?
My excitement was cut short when Tolu started whining, “Aunty Inà, I’m so hungry. You know Dammy has already eaten, but I have not.”

“Okay Tee, go and take the red velvet cake in the fridge and come sit with me,” she replied, smiling.

“For only me, abi? Thank you, Aunty Inà!” Tolu danced around, sticking her tongue out at me.

When she returned, she danced in front of me for a few seconds before settling down. Sometimes I wished I could squeeze her little head.

Aunty Inà smiled, “So can we continue our story?”

“Yes!” we both chorused.

“Long, long ago, in the land of Oyo state, in the village of Ibarapa, there was a group of settled farmers who provided food for their families. While the fathers worked the fields, the mothers cooked and cared for the children.

“They were all satisfied and content. A few years later, a group of strangers arrived. They looked different from the villagers, with lighter skin and aquiline noses. Parents cautioned their children to stay away from them, fearing they were invaders.”

We nodded, and Aunty Inà continued.

“Bimpe and Seun were good friends. Their mothers were traders in the market, and they often helped them. In fear, they discussed the arrival of the strangers. While Seun was curious and adventurous—”

“Aunty Inà, what's the meaning of adventurous?” Tolu interrupted.

“It means wanting to explore, like Dora the Explorer,” she explained with a smile.

“Thank you, Aunty Inà.”

“You're welcome. So, while Seun was curious, Bimpe was cautious and wanted to obey their parents at all costs. As they argued, one of the strangers approached them.

“They tried to run, but the stranger smiled and offered them sweets. Bimpe refused, but Seun eagerly accepted. Bimpe tried to stop her, but Seun ignored her and unwrapped the sweet.”

“She's stubborn like Damilare,” Tolu remarked.

“Shut up!” I retorted.

“If you keep arguing, I'll stop my story o,” Aunty Inà warned.

“We're sorry, ma.” we said in unison.

“Seun licked the sweet and started boasting to Bimpe. But soon, her ears began to fold rapidly. Bimpe noticed and pointed it out, but Seun didn’t believe her. They ran to the stream to check, and by the time they got there, Seun’s nose had shrunk. She cried bitterly, and they both ran to the market to tell their mothers.

“It turned out many other children were affected too, their noses and ears in different shapes. The parents decided the children would have to drink palm oil for a week to restore their body parts. While Bimpe enjoyed good food, Seun had to drink palm oil morning and night. The end.”

“Just like I’m eating cake and Damilare is swallowing spit,” Tolu added.

I moved to pinch her, but Aunty Inà stopped me.

“No fighting o, Oya, what’s the moral of the story?” she asked.

“We should not eat everything we see and we should always obey our parents,” Tolu answered.

“And you, Dammy?”

“We should be careful of what we eat and be sure to show our parents first.”

“Great job, guys! So, Damilare, you see why what you did this morning was wrong. Since you understand, you won’t be punished. But I’ll have to tell your mom about the food.”

“Thank you, aunty. God bless you. I’m so sorry for being disobedient and eating the food,” I pleaded, tears welling up.

“That’s alright Dammy, come and eat your food.”

Tolu skipped happily to the table as I walked quietly. As I took a spoonful of the smoky Jollof rice, I knew there was nothing better than homemade meals.

Commentary: To the Judges!

JUDGES REVIEW

JUDGE NADIA SULAIMAN

You could have just started your work with Aunty Ina's story.

Or, if you needed to show the kids listening to it so badly, you could have kicked right off with Aunty Ina gathering them for a story. Let's learn how to be more creative in our dispensations. Please.

Nonetheless, this wasn't a bad story.

JUDGE OLAITAN DAVIS

Taking me back to the days when my parents will deal with me for eating where I'm not supposed to eat.

JUDGE NINA OGBEIDE

A miss, this story is a miss.

JUDGE UMAR HASAN

Well, you did cook for us, Bowl of Fire. But I'm not sure you added enough ingredients to your stew—it probably would have been sweeter if you did. Okay, so, as much as your story had a moral lesson, which I kinda liked, by the way, I don't think you did enough justice to the theme of this stage. That said, you wrote well and your work was neat. Big ups to you for that. It's a good improvement.

JUDGE GIWA FALADE

Not bad! I can relate.

Though, I wish you took the more scary route by
saying that Seun started flying in the night and was having meetings on top of the tree with witches. That would have been far more relatable because it was a general belief back then.

But then, I guess we were all told different stories. Good job.

Commentary: Moving to the last contestant in the batch!

014 LILY BIRD

Africa, 1968.
When Chukwuemeka looks up the sky, he doesn't see the white vastness that mocks his boring life. He sees a portal to paradise. 
A place where the sky was blue. A home to the bird—chekeleke— which gifted children with white-stripped fingernails.
Bright blinding sky with bright blinding scenery was a place called Duruoffiah.
Chukwuemeka and his friends were lucky to call it home. Blessed with a lush greenery, streams that cooled the air and a rich culture, their ancestors had bestowed Duruoffiah with the title: fortress.
Crowing cocks marked a new day. Chukwuemeka's mother would wake her children up with a cane that went tawai tawai, a cadence better than her singing voice.
But it was his father's booming voice that'd wake him. Prayers were said in the living room, lengthy and tiring, causing his siblings to drift away.
Chukwuemeka's mind spared him from the hard knocks that would meet his siblings as he thought of the adventures which awaited him off his parents' hut. It wasn't right, but he couldn't help himself.
After surviving the measly load of chores, he would dash out from the hut—an advantage he had over his sisters. The red, grainy earth ate at his soles as he sprinted to Jide's compound.
"Ngwere. Ngwere," he would call from a safe distance and grin cheekily when the dreadlocks head of his friend came into view.
Two now, twice the energy to run.
At the next hut, they hid under the shade a barn provided, to alternately say the words, 'Egwu mmawu', 'ike'.
The gang was complete. Chukwuemeka, Jide and Omali. They'd successfully fooled their parents and run away from chores to get into one mischief or the other. They'd amble around till the sky turned orange. 
"Why does Emeka be the one to give us names?"
A fight like this was inevitable as the codenames worked against the favour of Jide and Omali.
Ngwere, meaning lizard, pointed to the fact Jide was skilled in the art of catching lizard as game.
Omali revered the village masquerade—mmawu—so much, he took to his heels each time he saw the hideous face. Hence, the addition of egwu.
He was the youngest amongst the three of them, but Chukwuemeka was the interim leader. He decided their itinerary, dished out instructions, took the lion's share from their kill and had held a girl's hand more than a simple graze would permit.
"It's true o. What you do isn't fair," Jide, the most agreeable of the trio, would say.
Being a leader required empathy and wisdom. Chukwuemeka had learnt this from the way his father interacted with their umunna.
After staring thoughtfully, he countered, "But I have a codename too, which you chose for me."
"You had the privilege of presenting two  bad names to us. Our case is different." The annoyed Omali glanced at Jide for support.
"True, true. Maybe we should call him ochu nwanyi. Woman lover." Jide shrugged, appeasing Omali who smirked at the suggestion.
"Ochu nwanyi should be your new code name. We've seen it. We believe it fits you." Omali jutted his chin before wearing a serious look. "Disagree and we don't play together anymore."
"Ochu nwanyi is fine by me."
Blindsided by Chukwuemeka's reply, Omali came with another condition. "And we will be the ones to come to your house and call you the name."
"Okay. O di mma."
"And we will say it whenever and wherever we see Kosiso."
That got Chukwuemeka. He knew what that entailed. He knew the repercussion. But a leader didn't lose face in front of his followers. Despite the dread seeping into his skin, Chukwuemeka agreed. "Okay. A nugo m."
His friends gave a high five and scurried off. Although following them closely, his body shook with terror, his mind reeled, searching for ways out of the mess. Kosiso wasn't any other girl who wouldn't mind if such a demeaning name was thrown at him.
Kosiso was… She was…
Someone very important. Twelve was too young an age for Chukwuemeka to understand the relationship that existed between them. He couldn't explain the joy that left him floating each time he saw her. He didn't know why his heart had frozen and his palms grown cold when he'd first seen them.
The buds as fair as her skin on her chest.
They weren't in talking terms. She turned the other way whenever they crossed paths, and didn't deliver okpeyi to his mother in the afternoons. Her younger sister, Nnedi, did.
They stopped talking when Chukwuemeka’s eyes had seen the sacred. And now, with Jide and Omali flowering him with an insult meant for womanziers, their friendship would shatter more.
Mornings with his friends were spent dropping into the stream for a lengthy bath, setting and checking their traps for grasscutters, and strolling down the forest.
On days luck shone on their traps, they would build a fire and enjoy a roast. The leftovers would be sold to other children or kept for their mothers' use.
Chukwuemeka remembers one particular night after the rains stopped. Moonlight illuminated the circle of story-hungry children—the centre of it sat Nnenne Amara, the oldest woman in the village. She had seen it all, heard it all and lived an astounding 102 years in Duruoffiah. Boys and girls sat still and had their imaginations glow like fire. A fire fuelled by her stories.
This particular night, there was no room for such fire in Chukwuemeka as he stole glances at the girl four heads away from him. Her threaded hairstyle looked new, gleaming under the moonlight and complimenting the one-piece wrapper around her chest. He thought her neck was fleshier, more supplement, but he couldn't investigate as Nnenne's airy voice got into his head.
He'd been thrown a question—what did you learn—but couldn't say. Eyes blinked at him. Jide's, Omali's too.
A leader didn't lose dignity before his subjects, so he took off running, perhaps imagining the sounds of laughter that rang behind him.
From where he sat in a bush, he watched the moon, not even turning when someone joined.
"You haven't grown a beard," she said. "My mother said I shouldn't talk to boys that have."
He met her eyes and felt something soft cover his hand. This was the best time to apologise, to rebuild their friendship; instead, he stared as she said the next words.
"Your mind was lost. Why?"
"Because of you."
Chukwuemeka would live to see the admission as the best thing he'd done. Not the boldest. The best.
The admission gave him the luxury of tasting her lips and feeling her hairless skin under his fingers; of getting the distinct scent of okwuma and feeling the warmth of her body.
Because Duruoffiah fell the next year following the war.
With bombs and gunfire, people vanished, the ground hardened. Jide, Omali, Nnenne…Kosiso—all gone. All was left, simply memories.
Chukwuemeka shuts his eye, certain he's betrayed his people, the fallen Duruoffiah. Riding a train northwards is the reason. It doesn't matter Uncle Ezeh lives there. It doesn't matter he'll be safe there.

Commentary: Hmm. Let's hear from the Judges.

JUDGES REVIEW

JUDGE NADIA SULAIMAN

I know it's not old news when we say that you write very well, Lily Bird. You do. You have a way with your words, but however…

I have a question.

That thing I saw in the ending about ‘tasting her lips’ and ‘feeling her hairless skin’ and ‘warmth of her body’, all of them followed to enter Children's Fiction?

Sigh.

Look, you're good. I'll give it to you. But this stage is more than just being good. Winning a writing contest is more than just being good. It's showing that you can deliver at all times according to the theme, without any questions.

JUDGE OLAITAN DAVIS

I don't know about this either.

JUDGE NINA OGBEIDE

I don’t have a review.

JUDGE UMAR HASAN

Zaurawa, you wrote something nice, but you see, it lacked some sort of coordination. The tense use, and then, being specific about the characters who were speaking. I almost got lost at some point. But again, it was a nice story.

JUDGE GIWA FALADE

I’d be lying if I say I understood your story one bit. And the fact that you kept switching between present and past tense was so damn irritating.

Don’t angry me, please. Yes, I said angry.

Commentary: We've come to the end of this batch! Check out Batch 4 in the next Chapter