
Cheers to 2025
Every New Year holds promise, as though it is any different from the turn of
“A dream is a wish your heart makes.” ~ Walt Disney
Read the first part here
Hayden moved like his knees were just hinges, wobbling to and fro on the soft center rug before falling on his padded bottom. Then he clapped like it was all part of the plan and rolled to his stomach to get up again.
“Adorable” Harriet mused as she was lost in fascination.
Her own child. Hers!
Harriet got up from the sofa in the living room to pick up her son as he crawled towards the TV console where a glass fishbowl rested. The boy giggled, waving his arms for the pick-up he knew was coming, but before he was hoisted high, he was on his bottom again.
Scenes like this relieved all the stress of everyday commute and nothing else mattered as far as she was concerned.
Then a shadow moved in the curtains.
“These weren’t the times that welcomed shadows” Harriet brows collapsed into a frown as she held her son tightly.
Her eyes darted around the room as the shadow moved across the curtains and then stayed still, melting into the curtains. She could hear her own breath; short and shallow.
She was sure something moved.
Then it moved again.
Her heartbeat quickened as the curtains were ruffled by ominous and yet gentle wind.
The silence that accompanied that moment was deafening and Harriet kept her eyes wide opened, unblinking. The stillness was scary, as though something really bad was about to happen.
She could feel it.
She held on tightly to her son.
Then the shadow emerged.
Harriet Screamed her lungs sore.
*****
Harriet’s scream came from a place of terror, telling of a mind lost in absolute fear. Her head throbbed like a jackhammer in service.
She thrashed her legs in bed pushing the duvet away from her body as though rebelling against her very existence. Kunle held her in his strong arms so much that she could barely breath. He was barely awake himself.
“Its only a dream. It’s a nightmare” Kunle muttered with urgency.
Now fully awake, Harriet heaved her body out of his arms, before holding her face in both her hands.
Tears trickled down her face.
“Why did she wake up?” she questioned no one in particular, neither did the words escape her mouth.
Kunle watched her in silence. The silence that was only broken by the irritably loud shrill of the bed side alarm. It was morning already.
Relieved, he handed a cup of water to his wife.
That morning Harriet could barely concentrate at work. Her dreams were becoming irregular.
When she checked her diary, she realized that the last time she had the dream no longer followed the pattern she thought she had figured out. Months passed before the next one and she couldn’t fathom why.
The highlight of her day at work was the phone call she received from her closest friend Chioma, second only to the compliments about her shoes from Dee that she always looked forward to.
Dee thought that her white Bennet Tuscany leather high heel stiletto was to die for. She expected nothing less after all it set her back a couple of thousands.
Chioma had been away from Lagos for several months. She had travelled on an official assignment in Abuja. Along with partners in her law firm, she played the lead role in the infamous legal conundrum that dominated the political headlines for many months.
They had been friends since childhood and shared every single detail about their lives. Nothing slipped through the cracks. Until recently when secrets became too much a burden to share.
Harriet never shared her dreams with anyone, she swore to take it to her grave.
Chioma was returning from the federal capital territory in a month and was excited to share the news of her arrival with her.
Unlike Harriet, she was heavily pregnant, out of wedlock, and was hoping to put to bed in Lagos where she would be surrounded by friends and family.
Harriet was her closest friend, and she was hoping she would hold her hands during the pains of contraction. They had promised each other to share that critical moment since the day Harriet was diagnosed of an autoimmune disorder which caused her body’s immune system to attack normal body tissues it would normally ignore, costing her fertility.
For many months a shattered Harriet cried her eyes sore as though the tears would keep her soul alive in the furnace of the overwhelming sadness and pain she felt. She was inconsolable.
As she ended the call with her best friend, her day brightened, declaring that colors matter, inviting her eyes to let them in.
She was going to share in the pain of childbirth.
****
13th December 2013
Hayden was saying his first word.
“mama”
It happened when Harriet was feeding him. He bounced in his high-chair like he was dancing to music only he could hear. His head and arms went up and down while his face was a picture of concentration. The flavors in his mouth seemed to be causing him so much pleasure he couldn’t stay still.
The boy was a bundle of energy.
Harriet watched as her son’s face dissolved into a crestfallen look when she puts the spoon to her mouth to blow air to cool the cereal, but then starts a celebratory bounce again as the spoon approaches his partly opened mouth clamping his lips around it.
She loved him. He was hers alone!
When she heard his first words – mama, her heart melted. The love she had for him quadrupled.
“Who else would he call?” She grinned before placing a wet kiss on his cheeks.
“I love you Son”
She packs up the food can and heads to the kitchen. She had learnt to never stress herself with doing the dishes. Not in her dreams.
She dumped the bowl and empty food can in the kitchen sink.
Then she heard the sound, an unmistaken stridor, followed by a constricted cough and then wheezing and gagging.
Her son was choking!
Harriet hurried out of the kitchen in a mad frenzy to behold her son writhing in pain and clutching his neck.
“No!” she screamed.
She ran too fast her right legs tripped on the center rug. The same one she had no problem walking on every time. Her son’s toy was the culprit.
She fell face down helplessly.
Blood was starting to drain from Hayden’s lips as it paled. His eyes started to roll into his upper lids. Her son looked helpless clutching his neck.
While she laid on the floor helplessly, held down by unexplainable forces, she realized that she had no idea how to help her son.
It sure seemed like she was unprepared to be a mother that very instant.
Harriet screamed.
****
She woke up on the floor in her bedroom, knocking over the bedside lamp and cabinet as she found her voice in a maddening scream.
“Hayden!!”
Kunle woke up with a start looking around the bed for his wife in the dark.
“Harriet!”
“Hayden” she screamed.
“Who is Hayden?”
Harriet looked at her husband and succumbed to the fainting spell that the throbbing headache in her head offered as escape.
Please follow the concluding part of this enthralling story here.

Every New Year holds promise, as though it is any different from the turn of

In an era that increasingly demands hyper-specialization, Akin Akingbogun stands out as a refreshing anomaly. He is a man who refuses to be confined to a single box.

There is a particular kind of silence that falls on a man when the phone stops ringing, the proposals go unanswered, and the diary that once groaned under the weight of appointments sits quietly — almost mockingly — open. If you have ever been there, you know it.

Let me tell you something uncomfortable: the most generous person you know — the one who volunteers every weekend, donates quietly, never asks for anything in return — is probably getting something out of it. Not money. Maybe not even recognition. But something.

Adaeze had been awake since 4 a.m.
Not because she was anxious — though she was — but because this trip felt different. After eighteen months of follow-ups, phone calls, and PowerPoint presentations polished to a mirror shine, the deal was finally ready to close. An investor meeting in Abuja. A partnership that would change the trajectory of her small but gutsy consulting firm. She had triple-checked her flight, her documents, her outfit. She had prayed. She was ready.

When he told his father, Dare’s first response was a sigh. Then: “I told you to practice more. I told you months ago. You don’t listen. You never listen.”
There was no “I’m sorry, son.” No pause to let the boy simply feel the loss of the thing he wanted. Just a swift, seamless pivot to what Temi had done wrong — and, by extension, how Temi’s failure was evidence of Temi’s failure to take his father’s wisdom seriously.

I want to tell you something that took me embarrassingly long to learn. Not because the idea is complicated — it is not. But because it cuts against something deeply wired in us, something we are rarely honest enough to admit.

You are somewhere between forty and fifty-five. You looked in the mirror recently and had a thought you immediately dismissed. Maybe you googled something at 2am that you would never say out loud. Maybe you bought something expensive and impractical and told everyone it was an investment. Or maybe you just feel — quietly, persistently — like the life you built was supposed to feel better than this by now.

Anton Chekhov was a Russian physician and playwright — a man trained in the discipline of diagnosis before he became one of the most precise storytellers in the history of world literature. That combination of sensibilities matters, because the principle he articulated in the late nineteenth century was not merely a rule of dramatic craft. It was an observation about the nature of significance itself. About what it means for something to be present. About the relationship between introduction and consequence.

There is a prison that has no concrete walls, no iron bars, no guards posted at the gate. Nobody built it for you. Nobody sentenced you to it. And yet, for many people, it is the place they spend the better part of their lives — circling its perimeter, brushing their fingers against its invisible boundaries, and quietly retreating each time they feel the edge of something that might require more of them than they believe they can give.

Picture a hand holding sand. The tighter the grip, the faster the grains escape between the fingers. Ease the grip — open the palm, allow the hand to become a vessel rather than a vice — and the sand stays. This is one of the oldest paradoxes of leadership, and one of the least learned: that control, pursued too aggressively, produces the very loss of control it was designed to prevent.

There is a version of ambition that builds. And there is a version of ambition that consumes. From a distance — and especially from inside it — they look almost identical. Both are energetic. Both are forward-moving. Both speak the language of vision and possibility. The difference only becomes visible later, usually at the point of fracture, when what was built begins to come apart under the weight of what was promised.

There is a particular kind of organisational absurdity that most people who have ever worked in a company will recognise immediately. It is the policy that was clearly designed by someone who has never had to implement it. The restructuring that looked elegant on a slide deck and chaotic on the ground. The customer-facing process that was overhauled by a committee that has not spoken to a customer in years. The directive that arrives from above, fully formed and non-negotiable, that causes the people closest to the work to exchange a look — the kind of look that says, without words: they have no idea what we actually do here.

We have built an entire mythology around exhaustion. In boardrooms and business culture — perhaps nowhere more so than in the high-pressure, always-on professional culture many of us inhabit — busyness has become a currency. To be tired is to be serious. To be overwhelmed is to be important. To be burning out, quietly, is somehow proof that you are fully committed.
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16 thoughts on “Dreams from Yesterday II – short story”
Pingback: Dreams from Yesterday I – short story – Akin Akingbogun
Looking forward to part 2.
Now you got part 2 & 3
What could be the issue to their problem? I can’t wait to know … nice one sir
Only the other concluding episodes can clarify this beffudlement.
It’s still a dream again, and she’s screaming her baby in her dream, still awaiting the next part, getting interesting .
Part 3 awaits you
Pingback: Dreams from Yesterday III – short story – Akin Akingbogun
Ahhh this dreams are becoming troubling. Hayden must not die oooo, why do I feel like appearing into the scene and performing a maneuver for choking. Lol
Please don’t appear into the scene o. Biko!
This kinda dream lol, interesting as I expect.
You like the dream?
The suspense is palpable. I hope the story ends on a happy note. Looking forward to the next episode.
This dream def!
Bro, this dream loud oooo…….I guess the next episode will reduce the suspense .
What a pity! I really feel for her, the realities of life weighed heavily on her heart so much, creating a different world in her sleep. Oh dear!