Mallam Sile can represent the color Dark blue because Sile is very smart and he knows what he wants. Plus he got the strive to be successful. “Mallam Sile” by Mohammed Naseehu Ali was short listed in for the Caine Prize. Of the eleven Caine stories I have read it is clearly in. 13 dez. Exposition Conflict Resolution Mallam Sile is a lonely man, who owns a tea shop on Zongo street in Kumasi, Ghana. Mallam was treated poorly.

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His strategy, therefore, was to throw punches and kicks from a safe distance, thereby avoiding direct contact with her. Newer Post Older Post Home. Share your story with us: After her third futile attempt, Abeeba had suggested to Sile that they use force to retrieve the money. I have not yet read this story. An hour later, when they were preparing to open the teashop for their customers, Abeeba announced that Samadu had paid the money he owed them.

Half of them called out Piri pirin pi, while the other half responded, Wen son! Ruining my sleep because of some useless 80 cedis? I love that you’ve been reading all of the Caine Prize short stories, I really should read more of them myself as the ones that I have read have been good.

I don’t usually enjoy reading stories online, but I might just get over that Here is a link to the story. Her voice was coarse and full of menace. The women jumped about frantically, like scared antelopes.

Prior to that, Abeeba had tried amicably to collect the money Samadu owed them, which was 80 cedis.


The harder the crowd isle for Samadu, the fancier his footwork became. She gave him a mean, hard look as she walked away. I hope a lot of people join in.

Mallam Sile by Sampson Williams on Prezi

How come people I give credit suddenly pay me on time? This story by Mohammed Naseehu Ali from Ghana first appeared in the short story collection, The Prophet of Zongo, mallsm is one of the five entries shortlisted in the Caine Prize for African Writing. There is a fight!

Mallam Sile was still engaged in his morning zhikr, or meditation, when Abeeba returned to the shack, and of course had no inkling of what had taken place.

My thanks to Kinna for hosting this event. Then a loud bang was heard from the room.

The women placed their palms on their breasts, shaking their bodies in dread of what was about to happen. No sound was heard anywhere as Abeeba continued her attack on the tough guy.

Mallam Sile

But soon after the fight erupted he mallaj that Abeeba was a lot quicker than he had presumed, as she managed to dodge the first five punches he had thrown mallm her. But Sile had quickly cautioned his wife: The men attempted to pull Abeeba away from her victim, but that turned out to be a difficult task.

Buried in Print-this is a very good story-well worth the few minutes it takes to read it-the online reading of short stories opened up a huge reading world for me- Kinna-I am glad Ssile joined your event and thank you for hosting it-to me Ghanaian Literature Week is what Book Blogging is about-community building and education Parrish Lantern-thanks as always for the comment and visit Heidi-I am very glad we are now fellow followers.

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I will do so later in the week. She jumped quickly on top of him and began to whack him violently. Mallam Sile also thanked Silr for giving his neighbours the will and the courage to finally accept him just as he was created.

Men, come out o! But Abeeba had come prepared: He was greeted politely by the tough guy, something he had never done before. Why am I being treated with such respect, even by the worst and most stubborn rascals on the street? So glad you found my blog through the Weekly Blog Maloam. Abeeba retreated and waited for Samadu to emerge from the room.

Come and separate the fight, o! But Abeeba insisted that she must see the tough guy. Msllam danced his feet, swung his arms, and moved his chest sideways, like true boxers did.

He flashed a silf in the darkness and moved closer to his slumbering wife. The veins on her neck stood erect, like those dervish fighters at the annual wrestling contest. He buried his small body in her massive, protective frame and soon fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. He was topless now, and clad only in a pair of corduroy knickers.

A few seconds later the door swung open, and Samadu stormed out, his face clearly showing the anger and red malice that was in his heart.