OLD WATERS

Okechukwu had just received the message of his uncle’s call from little Nma, his eight year old niece who had hurriedly rushed to the farm in her excitement. His uncle had just received a letter from his eldest son, Ogaranya, who had travelled to Canada for his master’s degree in  July; Nma had exclaimed in short breadths. Ogaranya’s Master’s degree scholarship to Canada had been a dream come true for the family; as none of the member’s of Nwenze’s family had gone through the tertiary institution talk less of a master’s degree.

It was already November, how fast time flew! Okechukwu hurriedly reached for his bicycle which he had fastened to a tree. He had to dust off the withering leather seat of his bike as the harmattan dust had accumulated in the short while he had stayed in the farm. He was alone in the farm except for the very distant Nkem at the far corner of his farm. He had noticed weed growing on some of the budding plants on the farm and decided to uproot them before they caused havoc. A stitch in time they say saves nine.   

He carried little Nma in the little space he created on the seat meant for one as he journied back home. Though the sun was blaringly hot, the dryness of the harmattan could be felt even more, as he rode back to the family’s compound. A lot of thoughts were going through Okechukwu’s mind, for one, his Uncle had summoned him to read the letter Ogaranya had sent from Canada as his uncle could neither read nor write, but more thoughtful was Okechukwu on the contents of the letter.