My father once told me, he said; "if you ever have to choose between
your wife and your mother do not think twice before you embrace your
wife"
It's been five years since he took his place with his father's in the
family tomb. Carved of mud, it had a spherical shaped entrance. I
often wondered what it felt like to occupy a pouch in the tomb.
It was a family thing and I was sure someday my curiosity would be satisfied.
Nike was fair and good to look upon. I had stumbled upon her years
back on my way to the farm. Memories from that day remain fresh and it
feels like it was only yesterday. The sun was in the east and the
atmosphere still had the mist of the night. My hat rested on my bald
scalp while my hoe embraced my left shoulders. I held a machete with
which I put intruding grasses in its place. I whistled continuously as
my feet embraced the cold red soil. She had a calabash on her head and
I need not be told she was returning from the stream. We exchanged
greetings and what normally should have taken less than a minute
became a conversation of about half an hour.
We fell in love and got married two years after father's demise. We
are a very happy couple but a storm threatens to tear us apart.
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