The Writeventures of Emaleecious

  This concludes (finally) the Still Waters short story. Thank you for following and reading about Ladi and Chenu as they navigate life and find solid ground. I'd really love to know what you think about this short story, so please leave a comment. You can catch up on: Part 1-  Shattered  Part 2-  The Plan Part 3- Silent Tension Part 4- The Breaking Point Part 5- The Turn ******************* The room was larger than she expected. Fifteen chairs in a circle, a pot of coffee on a side table, and a board filled with flyers and handwritten notes of encouragement. In that circle were fifteen faces, some familiar, others not. Each one's face had a story. They listened with rapt attention, not wanting to miss out on anything she was saying. Ladi stood near the front, heart steady, a huge smile on her face. She radiated peace.  “This time last year,” she began, fingers resting on the folded edges of her notes, “I was angry with God. And terrified. I didn’t know what to ...

Hello, my people,  Thank you for following this short story. I hope you've enjoyed it as much as I have. Part 5 is the end of our journey with Chenu and Ladi. You can catch up on all other parts here: Part 1- Shattered  Part 2- The Plan Part 3- Silent Tension Part 4- The Breaking Point ******************* The hum of the fridge was the only sound in the house. Ladi sat curled up on the couch, blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Her Bible lay open on her lap, unread. She heard Chenu’s footsteps long before he appeared. He didn’t speak. He walked over, sat beside her, and placed something gently on the table—her favorite mug, filled with warm ginger tea. She looked at it, then at him. “You didn’t have to.”  “I know,” he said softly. “But I wanted to.” A beat of silence passed. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. Burying her face in the crook of his neck. “Not for believing God will heal me. But for acting like you were the enemy.” “I’m sorry too,” Chenu replied as he kissed her fo...

If you've not read the previous parts, read them here- Part 1 , Part 2 , and Part 3. ******************* Ladi curled up in the corner of the couch, arms wrapped tightly around herself, the flickering television casting shadows across her face. The living room was quiet except for the gentle hum of the air conditioner. Chenu stood by the window, phone in hand, his thumb hovering over a contact: Dr. Hamzat_Oncologist. “I have booked the initial tests,” he said without turning around. “We can start the advanced treatment phase next week. They said there’s an immunotherapy trial we might qualify for. I’ve sent over your records.” Ladi didn’t respond. “I’ve also spoken with our account officer at the bank. If we need to take a loan along the way, it will be available. Whatever it takes. I promise you won’t walk this road alone.” More silence. He finally turned, slowly, and moved closer. “Ladi, did you hear me?” “Yes, I did.” Her voice was steady, but flat. “And I wish I didn’t.” “What d...

Catch up on Part 1 here. There's also Part 2 here. ******************* Chenu let his fingers hover over the keyboard as he searched for one more specialist. He had barely slept since he saw her test results last night. The weight of it all was heavy on his chest. He’d only feel better if he started working on a plan once and for all.  When Ladi walked in, he straightened, rubbing his palms together. "Come here, babe”, he reached out, pulling her to his lap. Ladi hesitated before settling in. Chenu passed the notepad toward her. "I've made a list of specialists. There’s one in Abuja, another good one in Lagos, and a highly recommended one in Johannesburg. I’ve sent emails, and two of them have already responded. I also checked treatment options, both here and abroad. And look, "he turned his laptop toward her, his voice charged with energy, "there are clinical trials we can apply for." Ladi blinked, her lips parting slightly. He was ready. He had throw...

Today, I took a long walk with the kiddos, and I had the privilege of seeing things from a different perspective. Lesson 1 – Enjoy Each Season as It Comes My son wanted to ride his bike during the walk. I wasn’t thrilled. He’s still learning, and honestly, I wasn’t in the mood to teach. I just wanted to enjoy a peaceful walk. So I told him no. He wasn’t happy about it, especially since his sister got to bring her scooter. He kept lagging behind, and I was running out of patience. So, I grabbed his hand and made him walk at my pace. He didn’t let me off the hook, though. He complained for nearly 10 minutes, until I tried to bribe him. 😂 😂😂 We were walking off our usual route, and they were curious about where we were going. I told them it was a secret, and that seemed to excite them. We eventually arrived at a playground, and just like that, my son suddenly remembered he was a sweet soul. He had an amazing time! As I sat and watched them play, I reflected on his attitude. He had ...

Hello, lovely blog readers, I hope you're doing well, and maybe, like me, taking a moment to breathe in the beauty of the day. What's the weather like on your end? I'm looking out the window as I type this, and its an endless field of green.  I’ve been doing some thinking lately about pressure, writing, and this whole wild world of content. I’ve been putting a lot of pressure on myself for not sticking to the posting schedule I created for this blog. I gave myself such a hard time for not showing up like I said I would, even though I had legit reasons. Some of them include being swamped with the short story I’ve been working on, and others... well, just life happening. There’s so much going on now that I honestly don’t even know where to start telling you the gist from. But I promise, the full story is one I will share here, because I know someone will benefit from it. Now, back to the gist—this should be interesting! The other day, after chiding myself for not posting wh...

For maximum enjoyment, make sure you've read part 1 here. ******************* Ladi sat at her desk, her fingers hovering over the keyboard, the glow of her laptop screen illuminating the unshed tears in her eyes. The words in her report blurred together, not because she was exhausted, but because of fear. The fear had laid a cold hand on her in the doctor’s office as he told her the diagnosis. That deep, bone-chilling fear that she hadn’t been able to shake off had gradually spread over her body, making her feel cold. She repeated his words: "We caught it early, but it’s still serious. You’ll need treatment, and it won’t be easy.” She had nodded, absorbing the information in silence. But now, days later, the weight of those words pressed on her like a boulder, suffocating her. She did not tell Chenu. How could she? She had seen this story play out before—her father walking out on her mother when things got hard after her illness. She remembered the nights her mother had cried,...