This is the land of my ancestors. I grew up here. I knew all seven wonders of the seven night, and the sound thereoff.

For father had been a great warrior, a man who sat before the gods of the mountain, and never looked back.

It was getting dark, when mother beckoned on him to think no further, for a strange shadow had twice visited him.

Obim, (My heart) it is time you retire to bed, for tomorrow will take care of itself.

I knew how you fought for this country many years ago.
who had deprived our kids a better life.
Obidiya,
how can i sleep?

should I retire to bed when my house is on fire?
Knowing what will befall my children if I go the way of my ancestors.

Enough obidiya,

take your leave, I will sit beside you, before you fall asleep.
Although,

I knew no wisdom at my tender age.

Father had once told me his life stories, and how he met my mother.
Being the only son, who had lost four siblings during the Civil war that claims 2 million lives.

I can still recall my first book.
The fall of a great Nation,
where children were been massacred, while few were starved to death.
But, should I refrain from such stories like the one narrated by Chinua Achebe.

The pain, the anguish of a man who starved my ancestors for seeking equality.

For so long,
mother had been waiting for father. The soul that never sleep at night fall. Always wondering about the nile river.

You know,

when a woman loves a man, she cares for him, pampers him, gives him her attention and does everything to make him happy.
or should I tell mother, that father is with the gods.
To be continue...
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