By Tai Emeka Obasi He was Frederick Forsyth. If it were not for Frederick Forsyth, I probably would never have been propelled to become a writer. He never knew I existed, but he was my mentor. He captured me with his unique style. Beyond his masterful command of language, he was unrivalled in suspense, descriptive power, dialogue, and humour—all delivered with the potency of a cobra’s strike. It all started over three decades ago when I was serving as a youth corper at Unity Secondary School, Ode Aye. I had…
Read MoreAT EIGHTY-SIX, HE WAS STILL TOO YOUNG TO DEPART
