Short Stories Series · Short story · Writing

Sweet Meats…

white ceramic plate
Photo by Viktor Tasnadi on

The semi-circle slow turn showed off the graceful flow of her jalabiya, albeit she wasn’t satisfied with the way her rolls stayed prominent. Reema harbours a love and hate relationship with her abayas. They did their best to conceal the bulge of indulgence, yet constantly reminded her of her ever-shifting shape that spread like butter left out in the Summer sun.

Flopping down on the pink sofa, she flipped through the pages of The Weekend woman, sighed in resignation and popped another sweet meat into her mouth. Delicious and warm, the taste of the succulent morsel gave her joy.

Maybe she should go shopping, she thought. Retail therapy of buying pretty things always made her happy for a little while. How did she let her weight get out of control? Would she ever lose it and look trim again? She didn’t trust Khalid with the help especially the new one Nadia – many a times, she caught him  casting lascivious looks at Nadia’s bubble butt that tended to quiver with each step she took. Reema’s musings tumbled over each other and chose to zoom in on her husbands’ recent fascination.

Nowadays, his slumberous thick-lashed dark eyes held a mischievous glint in them and her assumptions of what it meant was giving her sleepless nights. Biting into another piece of spicy meat, she hoped that his attraction to Nadia will not be as fatal as his previous tryst. She truly abhorred driving to the desert to dump a lifeless body.

Musings · My Thinking Corner

Tuesdays Trickles…My Thinking Corner 22

Every Tuesday, I share snippets of thoughts that I call ‘My Thinking Corner.’

I would like to invite you to participate. The challenge is quite simple.

Each Tuesday, share your very short snippets of positive, inspiring, motivating, health, spiritual, writing advice, clips, posts etc, that can serve as a prop to motivate others and simply add my link to your post.

I call it my thinking corner because, I actually take out a bit of time just to think through things, encapsulate my thoughts as much as possible and detoxify my mind. It helps give me clarity of vision and might help you too.

It might work for you in a different way, but the idea is to get the positive thoughts flowing.

Please send in your little thoughts. You never know whose life you might inspire.


  • If one has a tongue that dribbles, they shouldn’t accept to keep the confidence of others. For secrets let out are like spittle, you can never retrieve them.
  • Others may place temporary stumbling blocks in your path, but it’s up to you to remain permanently upstanding.
  • One bee can never make enough honey. You need to align yourself with lots of bees to get a pot of honey.
  • A small and well-executed dream is better than a big dream that’s poorly executed.
  • Are you dreaming yet? If not, why not?

Today’s thoughts came in from beautiful thinkers:

Discretion: How discreet are you? A thought provoking post.

Today’s Nuggets: Great and positive message from Stella.

Jealousy: A message that applies to all of us. Worth your time to take a peek.

I hope that you find these little drops useful now and again. Do check them out and please share snippets of your thoughts with us.

Thanks and blessed be.

© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

Below is my first just published Poetry Book “Out of the silent breath” which is available on Amazon and Smashwords.

When you buy my book, you support me in an invaluable manner.

Out of the silent breath

Brand me whole as only you can

That the entire score of me

Knows nothing but the fullness of you.

Creative Writing · Fiction · Friday Fiction in Five Sentences · Writing

Curtain Call….Friday Fiction in Five Sentences.


The cast takes a bow to the standing ovation of a delighted crowd for the brilliant performance of The Sweet Fairy.

Poppy flushes in excitement and pride. Her heart swells from the euphoric dopamine of being a lead for the very first time.

It’s an experience she wants to have over and over again.

For the very first time in her twelve years as an actor on Broadway, she get’s to be a lead.

No more supporting acts she vows silently to herself, her mind racing on how to continue ensuring that Loretta remains incapacitated with illness.

© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

Below is my first just published Poetry Book “Out of the silent breath” which is available on Amazon and Smashwords.

When you buy my book, you support me in an invaluable manner.

Out of the silent breath

The air is so crispy

The birds are quite chirpy

The magic of nature abounds

As I imbibe all the sounds.


*an excerpt of my poem*

Lifestyle · Midnight motivation and musings · Self Help

Midnight Motivations and Musings 67


Naturally as humans, when we are witnesses to the success of others, there’s a deep inclination inside us that experiences a tinge of envy and want.

This is what gives birth to rivalry and competitiveness.

However, there are ways of harnessing our human need to excel and thrive without letting jealous notions be the main driver or our desire.

One, it’s not sustainable to operate that way because your function will be based on clouded emotions that will get the better of you.

Two, it’s never been a successful line to tow and a jealous master is a dangerous one.

Asides from the scriptural angle of things, it’s simply a terrible way for one to spend their lives comparing themselves to others.

It’s a far better approach seeking your own route. If you per chance admire the work of someone else and wish to do the same, be pragmatic about it. Learn

© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

Creative Writing · Weave that Dream


In response to the cue art Faces from Creativity Carnival :


It rankles! Yes it does. Maria sits mute at the dinner table, her roiling thoughts consumed with jealousy and anger.  Mama, cracks a joke that maybe a widower with a dozen children would fall hopelessly in love with her homeliness but it is a struggle to plaster a smile on her face. She knows the icy look in her eyes must be as cold as the Arctic but no one notices.

She can’t seem to help her unbidden thoughts and distorted feelings for Ella. Ella, her identical twin but there are no two people who are more different. Maria’s distorted feelings of animosity, envy and sadness have accrued over the years.

Even her name is prettier for pity’s sake – Maria thinks. They saddle me with a staid, homely, sensible name “Maria” and “Ella” gets to be called a fairytaley, princessy, frilly name.

Ella the glitzy, charming one. The one that drew the boys like mindless bees to her honeysuckle petals. The one who got all the accolades, yet didn’t exert herself much to earn them.

Mama keeps saying that Ella will go places; our ballerina tutus are the same, yet mine always managed to look crumpled and my flats had a hole in the toe. I made that hole! In rebellion too, she recalls in remembered pleasure. She hated the ballet lessons and all that pirouetting made her dizzy. “No spotlights for you, my young lady” auntie Anna would say. That sounded like doom to the young lady’s ears.

She loves to draw and paint, but no one seems to notice. They noticed easily how unruly her hair is, how her skirts are always overrun with watercolor and how her finger nails are eaten to jagged bits, from nervous energy.

Ella is always immaculate. No hair is ever out of place. Her bubbly energy takes up the entire air meant for both of them and sometimes Maria feels like the evil step-sister waiting for the Sword of Damocles to fall and swish Ella’s head off her shoulders.

Maria prays. Every moment, she tries. Trying to staunch the flow of ill-feeling by saturating them in heartfelt prayers, but those moments of peaceful thoughts did not last.

Today she feels so petty and angry as she watches Ella weave her sticky charm, yet again on a beau. Our budding romance is dead on arrival, Jeremy has just bitten the dust, she thinks.

Debating all the painful, slow ways to eliminate her sibling rival and shaking with an itchy, ugly desire to slap Ella’s face, Maria slowly rises from the dinner table and leaves for her room. No one notices.

© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha