A stoic person, Yaya would very much be anywhere else but at the heart of Mafoluku, listening to music he’d grown up listening to, but had never loved.
A stoic person, Yaya would very much be anywhere else but at the heart of Mafoluku, listening to music he’d grown up listening to, but had never loved.
What manner of love is this? A love that endures. A love that believes. They don’t make them like this anymore, Bessem. They don’t.
The gangs did not cow to old men with massive paunches anymore. They deferred to youthful zeal and brutality, not outdated, restricting ideals
He did seem to hate him. Was it just because he was the oldest in the office? Did Adigun remind him of someone he disliked?
“Better for you to confess now, so we find an arrangement that can see you do a light reformatory penance for your sins.’’
Snapping suddenly to an upright position, Yaya charged his shell-shocked attacker, who, caught ball-watching, stood helpless in the face of his foe’s barrage.
