A TOUCHNG STORY -CHAPTER 1



My name is Sarah. I was only eight when my father and mother died in an
Auto crash. That was five years ago. Since then for me life become very depressing
and without meaning. Every time my thoughts wandered to the good times I shared
with my parents, I would cry until my eyes turned red.

 Shortly after my parents' demise, a close relation of ours showed some concern in
taking me along with her to the city.
  I shall take very good care of her and put her in school, she told my uncles days
after my parents burial
"She is the only child of her parent. So, please make sure you give her the best if you can", my uncles told her
Days later, Aunty mariam took me along with her to the city. That was where my miserable and path ethic life began. Things turned Topsy-Turvy..
   Aunty Mariam used to be a christian and ass I was told she was a very good singer with wonderful voice and was the head of the choir in church nobody knew what happened. Suddenly, she became a Muslim but no one complained as everyone had the right to choose which religion he or sshe would want to practice. It was when she became a Muslim that she changed her name from Mary to Mariam.

   The day came when Aunty mariam was to return to Kano. My father's brothers had a meeting briefly and it was subsequently decided that I follow her to the north.
   "When you get to the city", my uncle said looking directly into my eyes, "please try to be of good behavior and stay away from trouble".
"I will, Uncle", I promised and off we went from my village in ogwugwu. The journey went on for hours and I sulept off before we got to Lokoja. My new guardian, Aunty Mariam, told me Kano was a very busy place where a lot of people from different parts of the country resided.u
"You must be very smart when you get to Kano. If you are not, a lot of people will try to teach you", she'dp counseled . I did not know why she said that . At eight, all that I wanted was to return to school and not learn how to outsmart people. Still, I hadn't the guts to ask what she meant by that.
"You must be very wise and smart", she reiterated.
Lokoja was a very busy place. There were so many vendors displaying different wares. There were dried and smoked fish on baskets. There were oranges, cloths,bags, fried yams and bean cakes. So many things were displayed and most travelers stopped to patronize the sellers.
She led my by arm to the place where fried yams and bean cakes were displayed. I remembered how my mother used to fry yams and eggs for me. A rage of bitterness ravaged my heart as i felt a tear drop down my cheek. As we stood in the sun and waited to be attended to by thhe yam seller, I imagined my mother trying to make me a meal of fried yams with eggs. Then unconsciously, I burst into tears.
"What is it?" Aunty Mariam asked rather sympathetically. She removed a handkerchief from her hand bag and with it, wiped my face.
She said something in my local dialect which I did not quite grab but I nodded in the affirmative.
I sensed that what she'did said was meant to console me.
She bought some yams and bean cakes, garden eggs and a bottle of water. In no time, all the passengers got back into the bus and off again we went on our journey. Aunty Mariam unwrapped the papers used to wrap the yams and bean cakes and we began to munch.
"Why were you crying the other time?" She asked me. I told her I remembered something about my late parents.
"What was that you remembered?" She probed further making me a little uncomfortable. I opened my mouth to say something but the words refused ti form.
"You don't have to keep thinking about them," she said in a tone that sent shivers down her spine; "they are dead and buried, so let it remain that way. When I see you cry like that next time, I will be mad at you."
I couldn't understand why she said that. What was wrong in one thinking about one's parents?? Did it matter if they were dead or alive? Why had she suddenly become hostile to me? My thoughts hovered. Prior to our departure, before my uncles, Aunty Mariam had treated me with so much live and affection. It baffeled me that she was now changing in Lokoja. In her eyes, I sef sef strife and rage. What would become my fate in Kano???

A young ambitious guy who reside in Lagos. A future chemical engineer with good dreams and plan for the industry. With me it's fun all the way.

Share this

Related Posts

Previous
Next Post »

1 comments:

Write comments