About the Book

I began writing Njànsí while in the University. If I remember correctly, it was during a long holiday or strike of sorts. I stopped writing for a few months then I continued. At some point I guess I simply decided I was going to finish it no matter what!

It must have been my second year when both my Aunt Cecilia and later my Dad read through the book separately. My Dad made many corrections in his usual perfectionist nature. Eventually I began envisioning its publication.

Njànsí tells the story of a boy who ran into the occult on his way to the US. The root of the matter was actually the manner in which he was born. Later parts of the book tells how Maureen Nwachukwu, Njànsí’s aunt absolutely resolved she was going to get him out.

Njànsí is about the battle for a young man’s soul, the questions that rise when trying to determine what is true and what is false, what is right and what is wrong. Njànsí is about determination, persistence and faith. And most of all, Njànsí is about redemption.

In Njànsí, I have expressed myself as a child with raw talent. More advanced writers will definitely notice a few flaws but the story is, I must confess, very captivating. I look forward to expressing myself more maturely in my next book.

The book was published by Authorhouse UK and you can write your own review on this site if you are a member.


“George, stop, stop, stop!” Maureen said all of a sudden, breaking the silence. She had turned her head, looking at something or someone far behind them.


“What, what?” asked George panicking as he managed to get the car under control. He finally brought the car to a halt at a petrol Station off Abule-Ado bus stop along the expressway.


“What is it?” he asked, breathing heavily, somewhat upset.

“I saw Njànsí”, said Maureen hastily opening the door.


She strutted a few meters away from the car and strained her eyes looking for Njànsí whom she said she had seen. George just sat behind the wheel and sighed heavily. He waited. After about a minute or two Maureen returned to the car and shut the door saying nothing. George did not look at her. He just started the car and they continued their journey. They drove for about three minutes before Maureen

spoke again:


“I am sure I saw him. It is just that we had come so far away from the place where I saw him before you stopped.”

“Oh! I am sorry, it’s all my fault” said George sarcastically.

“I did not say that! And I did not mean it either” said Maureen turning to look at his face.

“I think you are becoming obsessed with this Njànsí of a person. Even his mother is not this obsessed about him.”

“Well, I cannot help it. I nursed him and I care about him. Moreover, I am convinced that God wants to save him!”

“Good! Then we can do ourselves a whole lot of good if we let God save him.”

“God uses men remember?”


The rest of the journey was quiet. During that night’s session,

Maureen could hardly concentrate; she kept thinking about Njànsí and praying for him intermittently.

On their way back home George felt all alone. He had enjoyed the programme but his wife seemed to be so far away.


“You are still thinking about Njànsí, aren’t you?” George asked aft er many fruitless att empts at trying to make her talk about the seminar.

“I am sorry, George, I can’t help it”

“Don’t worry about it. God will save him in His own time”.


Maureen could not go to work the next day. She had spent most of the night praying. Besides, she woke up on her knees feeling feverish. Later in the day George had to attend the second day of the programme alone. On his way, he stopped by a phone booth and called Maureen’s sister.


“George!” Comfort exclaimed at the other end of the line – her clothes shop.

“Yes. It is me” George confirmed.

“Is everything alright?” George hardly called Comfort. Maureen was more likely to do that.

“Err…everything is under control but Maureen is a little ill”


“Yes. She developed a fever this morning and by the time I returned from work it had gotten worse. I got her some medication but she is not willingly to eat.”

“What is wrong? George please tell me”

“Comfort, I need you to come and talk to her. She is overly concerned about Njànsí. I called you because there is no more appropriate person to call”.


Comfort became uncomfortable.


“Alright, I will come and see her”

“Comfort, I won’t be at home; I am calling from a phone booth. I am on my way to a church programme.”

“You left her alone?”

“We were actually meant to go together but I had to leave her, she is getting on my nerves”.

George dropped the phone a few seconds later.