THE MAN WHO DOESN'T DESERVE IT. (A must read)

It was almost six years since I had left the village for the city. Six years since the last time I had seen some of my family members and friends. Six years since I had left the cradle that weaned me and the stars that guided me. Returning back home for the Christmas holiday was a long awaited dream, come through... it was like humanity going back to Eden.
I missed the pungent smell of grasses and wild herbs, the sight of domestic animals roaming the streets, the touch of the cool evening breeze caressing my flesh, the taste of fresh, unpreserved meals, and the voices of trees singing over the backdrop of the wind.

I missed going to the stream at mornings, before the wake of the sun, to bath and to fill my vessel. I missed sitting outside under the dark blanket of the sky at night, sharing tales with my family members. I missed walking through the market place with a tray on my head, beckoning on buyers to purchase my wares. I missed...

So many memories sprinted through my mind as I walked to the home of my dear childhood friend, Eseosa. We hadn't seen or spoken to each other in six whole years; partly because she didn't own a phone, and partly because I hadn't put so much effort into reaching her.
While growing up, we had often made plans on how we were going to remain in the village, get married, have children and remain best friends until death did us part. Fate however had different plans for us.
Six years ago, my uncle who lived in the city had come to the village and told my parents of his intention to take me to the city with him... I never got the chance to return to the village until six years later.

"Good afternoon ma," I greeted my friend's mother, who was sitting in front of their dilapidated mud house, peeling cassava tubers.
"Ehen, good afternoon," she replied, obviously unsure of who I was.
She had patches of grey on the low-cut hair that she wore on her head; her brow was etched with lines of folded skin, and her lower eyelids were becoming saggy. She looked older than I could remember. Six years was enough time for nature to leave aging marks on one, but I presumed that the hardships of life made her look six years older than she ought to have looked.
"Mama, it's me, Eghosa."
The knife and tuber fell off her hands. She was apparently shocked to see how big I had grown.
"Eghosa!" she screamed.
"Yes ma," I replied with a smile, understanding how emotional she was about to become.
"Jesus! Eghosa, my pikin. Na you be this?"
"Yes Mama," I replied with the smile still plastered on my face.
She rose from the small stool on which she sat and threw her large 'christian mother' arms around me. I could feel the joy in her heart flowing into me like an electric current. We remained that way for about half a minute.
"Eghosa!" she screamed my name again.
"Yes Mama."
"See as you don big finish; you come fine join," she remarked in a calmer tone.
I laughed. "Thank you ma."
"Na which day you come back?"
"Yesterday ma."
"Welcome, iyea?"
"Thank you ma.
"How your people for that side?"
"They are fine ma."
"Welcome, iyea?"
"Thank you ma."
"How enjoyment?"
"Fine ma."
"Welcome, iyea?"
"Thank you ma."
I knew this conversation would last longer than I desired, if I allowed it roll."
"What about Eseosa?" I immediately inquired.
The enthusiasm on her face was suddenly drained.
She sighed.
"She dey backyard."
Even though she tried to keep her voice still, I could tell that all was not alright. I was tempted to ask if my friend was okay, but I swallowed it.
"Okay ma," I said instead. "I'll go and see her now."

I walked past the side of the house to the backyard, where I saw my dear friend, Eseosa, beside a small hut that served as the kitchen. She was squatting, with both hands on a grinding stone, crushing fresh pepper into a paste. I couldn't see her face from where I stood, as we both faced the same direction.
A stream of indescribable joy flowed through my soul, sponsoring a faster heartbeat in my chest, and sending a tingly signal to my limbs.
I tiptoed to where she was and placed my hand on her shoulder. She turned to look at me.
She offered me what would have passed for a half-smile. A smile that had neither depth nor height.
"Eghosa, you're welcome," she said in a tone that froze all of the excitement that my heart had carried.

I hadn't seen Eseosa in six years. I didn't expect her to jump over the clouds or run into a wall on sighting me, but still, I didn't expect her to be this cold.
The disappointment that my heart felt was however nothing compared to the sorrow that crippled my nerves as I beheld her from close range.
Her hair was twisted and dirty, her lips were cracked and sore, her skin was unattractively dry, her eyes were swollen, and her elbow wore a repulsively looking wound.

TO BE CONTINUED........ STAY GLUED....
#theMANwhoDOESNTdeserveIT