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SHORT STORY: THE ESSENCE OF BEING KIND

Discussion in 'Literature' started by Ojo Oyeyemi, Apr 19, 2017.

  1. Ojo Oyeyemi

    Ojo Oyeyemi New Member

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    THE ESSENCE OF BEING KIND

    ‘Where’ve you been?’, screamed the woman at the little child from afar. It was Saturday dusk. The sun was heading in the twilight that crept slowly, breaking the dimming light that surrounded the vicinity. The house stood casting its shadow on the children, men and women that were watching in awe and amazement. It was a sight of emotions and message that could be deeply caught in a high and revealing reflection. It was an unusual calm that ceased the neighbourhood that had been in perpetual noise of moving crowds. The child blinked intermittently, exchanging a gaze filled with regret and soberness. The woman remained stern, scantily talking, losing her voice. The breeze of anxiety vanished as the little boy spoke.

    Tolu left home for Jide’s house early in the day. Jide was one of his friends, who lived seventh street away from their house. Jide’s family had received Tolu in their residence on several occasions. It had usually been fun-filled moments for the little kids. They ate and played together. Jide’s family was a loving and caring family that hosted friends of their only son on weekends.

    On the fateful day, the night was approaching and all the children left Jide’s house. Tolu made for his way humming and singing in excitement. In a short while, the clouds began to gather and Tolu was gripped by fear that left him confused. The heavens seemed to be falling. All again, the clouds faded and the sun grinned cutting the dispersing rain that beat the roofs in distance. Tolu got lost in the crowd as he ambled down the road.

    All at once, he fell by the road as a car pulled up. A young man got down from the car and stared in panic. He looked in different directions, but saw no one at sight. He pondered and became sceptical. He had thought it was a trap. He struggled in silence and walked down to carry the boy. As he drew closer, Tolu became conscious and stood on his feet.

    Meanwhile, Mrs Kofo, Tolu’s mother, had waited to see her child get back home. As she strode down the corridor, she saw a gathering crowd in front of her house. Jide was seen with the man getting out of the car. All along, the seven-year old Tolu kept talking in a faint voice as his mother walked to meet them. He kept on as his mother watched. ‘He rescued me’, Tolu responded, pointing at the young man. The mother shouted in dismay ‘Dara, Dara, Dara…it’s you…you!

    Thirty year old Dara was Mrs Kofo’s younger brother who spent most of his life in the States. He flew in a fortnight ago. It was his first visit to Nigeria since he left the shores at age seventeen. Dara was driving to see Mrs Kofo when Tolu jumped in the way. He stopped screeching the tires. ‘I saved my nephew…Oh, My sister’s son!’, Dara retorted. Mrs Kofo was elated as she held Tolu and Dara firmly. She whispered, ‘This is the essence of being kind. You might not know whose life you’re saving’.

    OJO OYEYEMI J. (2016)
     

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