A Silent Epiphany
By Franz Owano
5/5
()
About this ebook
Nowa is a young university student on the precipice of manhood.Burdened with glorious purpose yet plagued with a crisis of identity.Through his struggles on a road to self discovery he finally finds himself after stumbling onto a; silent epiphany.
Length-100 pages.
Franz Owano
Franz Owano is a medical doctor by profession who lives and works in Nairobi Kenya.He boasts of a body of works.He has penned 6 plays,a journal,2 novellas and a collection of short stories. He enjoys reading,writting and travelling in his free time.
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Reviews for A Silent Epiphany
5 ratings2 reviews
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Brilliant!!! Highly recommended... Highly relatable ... Definitely worth the read...
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Great writer. Highly recommended. Good work. Will definitely buy more
Book preview
A Silent Epiphany - Franz Owano
By Franz Owano.
Dedication
To all those who have ever longed for something more,
Stay the course, our time will come
To my sisters Yvonne, Patience, Sarah and my dear mother Jane
ACT ONE
Scene 1
––––––––
(Students rush out of lecture hall 3 for their lunch break. They cluster together into their social groupings while leisurely ambling down the corridors. The conversation ranging from casual gossip by the ladies and what’s on the menu for the guys. Nowa glances longingly in her direction, his daily ritual of quiet admiration is momentarily interrupted by Moses, his trusted friend and confidant.)
Moses : Wipe that lustful look off your face, if you could impregnate her
just by a stare she would have triplets by now.
Nowa : I wasn’t staring. She just happened to be in my field of view. Don’t
you believe in coincidence or is the meaning of that word lost on you?
Moses : So, it’s a coincidence that she apparently happens to be in your field
of view every lunch break. Others would call it a habit.
Nowa : A habit would require repetitive actions for it to be justified as so. She
only attends class once a week, ergo her absence absolves me of your self- imposed habits.
Moses : Sherlock, how do you know that she attends class once a week?
Since we are friends, I will put it plainly. I think its unhealthy.
Nowa : What is? (He asks in genuine curiosity)
Moses : This protracted obsession with that girl. No fear though. I will come
to your aid with a 3-step process guaranteed to free you from her evil spell.
Nowa : Let’s briefly assume I’m remotely interested in whatever nonsense
you’ve conjured up.
Moses : A prophet is rarely accepted in his own home but I will forge on.
Step 1 – walk up to her and say the first thing that pops into your mind. Step 2 – get rejected , which probably you will. Step 3 – get over it and move on like a normal man.
Nowa : I’m glad you’re not an author because that would be the shortest book
ever written.
Moses : I’ve known you long enough to see right through your sad attempt
at humor.
Nowa : Stop trying to psychoanalyze me, I doubt you’ll be able to sift through
the dumpsite that is my mind.
Moses : As filthy as it is, I owe it to our friendship to give it a try.
Nowa : I feel like I’m at therapy the only difference being at least there they let you
lie on a comfortable couch, I’m tired of standing, can we at least have a seat before I develop a cramp? (Nowa & Moses find most seats taken and settle for the grass. Moses without awaiting invitation continues with his discourse.)
Moses : You use humor & sarcasm as a self-defense mechanism to evade
the issue at hand.
Nowa : Oh! Do I? (He replies while picking his nose in disinterest.)
Moses : If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you are afraid.
Nowa : I am Nowa Oloo Abiola Owiti. Son of Ramogi. Blood line of
Luanda Magere. I fear no one but God.
Moses : If you were to choose between the option of fighting a lion or talking
to her, what would you do?
Nowa : In that case, I’ll take my chances with the lion.
Moses : I hope Luanda Magere is deaf, cause if he isn’t he is rolling in his
grave with disgust.
Nowa : Whether I talk to her or get ripped apart from limb to limb by the lion
the outcome would be the same but at least the lion would leave me with one thing that she won’t.
Moses : And what may that be?
Nowa : Pride. (He replies with defiance gleaming in his eyes.)
Moses : In order to overcome fear, you must become fear. You must bask in
the fears of other men. Feel its power to control and distort & know that this power can be yours.
Nowa : Now you are quoting batman, just when I was just about to start
taking you seriously (he sighs.)
Moses : Yes, he may have a ridiculous costume but you have to agree the man
has a point.
Nowa : What you call fear I’d prefer to rename as caution.
Moses : A rose is still a rose by any other name. Renaming it wouldn’t make
it smell any sweeter. Nor would calling poison anything else make it less lethal. Let’s call a spade a spade; this simply boils down to the fear of rejection.
Nowa : Before I concede to your biased spade riddle me this, does fear
breed caution or does caution morph into fear? Are they both inextricably linked or is one a pre – requisite of the other and if so can one experience or exercise caution in the absence of fear? (He asks while feeling pleased with himself.)
Moses: I give up! You have yet again managed to turn a normal
conversation into a verbal blood bath. You should consider a career in diplomacy. You’d be excellent ambassador.
Nowa : Of which state?
Moses : The Republic of Denial.
Nowa : It seems you didn’t get the memo; I’ve already served one term.
In fact, I’m up for reappointment. (He replies while smirking in delight.)
Moses : As a parting shot I’ll offer one last piece of advice. Power
Mr. Nowa, real power comes not from caution masked under the disguise of pride; but from truth.
Nowa : See you tomorrow, I so look forward to our next engaging
conversation. (He retorts in a tone imbued in sarcasm.)
Moses : Aren’t you attending the afternoon lecture?
Nowa : No, I ‘m not. I’ve got some things I need to take care of. (He replies
while desperately hoping he gets there in time.)
(Exit Moses and Nowa)
Scene 2
––––––––
(Nowa rushes up the seemingly endless flight of stairs, past a busy corridor almost knocking over a petite homely nurse. He apologizes and bursts into the ward hoping that he has arrived within the visiting hours. Luckily, he has. As he walks through the ward the eerie stench of death looms around him more than eager to ensnare another unsuspecting soul. His only wish at that point was that the angel of death would skip bed number 6 where his dear mother lay unconscious, the last time he checked. To his joy she had regained her consciousness and was propped up in