a spotted pigeon
source: Getty Images

It is a bright sunny Tuesday morning. Birds are flying around and perched on my neighbor’s roof. It is a beautiful scene. I can see them through the large window in my room. My room is upstairs. It is my room in my aunt’s house. I am there for the holidays after my final year exams.

I spot white birds, pigeons, on a roof just adjacent to ours. I wonder what a dove will look like since these pigeons are the only other white birds I have ever seen apart from the leke leke. Then, I see a bird on the roof, very unlike the beautiful white pigeons. A spotted bird, he is turning round and round and I cannot figure out if he is equally a pigeon. He does not walk on the roof like the others. What is he? I call him Spotty.

I stretch and strain my neck but cannot see him very well. I dismiss him as just an ugly bird. I then search for the peacock that usually cries on another neighbor’s roof at night. I do not see him.

Then something wonderful happens. A flight of birds passes by and voila! Birds like spotty fly past my window with careless abandon. I see them now:  Pigeons. I look back at the roof for Spotty but he is not there. I sigh in reflection; he was really a pigeon.

Neymous is a poet, self-acclaimed philosopher and advocate for  the use of law and literature as tools to create awareness for social change and foster  intellectual reawakening  that will orientate Nigerians to change Nigeria and then the world.

P.S Neymous is one of the regular contributors to this blog. Check her works here



A world changer who tells the stories that deserve to be told. Fiction may sometimes be real.

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