Olefaniel Publishers

A fictional representation of Leadership Crisis in Nigeria For hours, Ekoyata tried to relate the moment to reality but failed. His father, Chief Egbe, was well-known globally. How come he had that kind of house in their hometown? His father's sister of the same parents got gobbled up in such miserable poverty. How did it happen? He felt that he was missing something. The whole thing came to him as a kind of terrifying force.  When the farmer took him to the mud house and told him that it belonged to his father, he had thought that the farmer was psychologically blind. But he had acted blind with him so that he could do what he wanted and would never be seen by him. He didn't hope too, that the wobbly old woman who later joined him was his aunt. But it was suddenly true. They were together now. At the moment, she was the closest person to him in all of the world. Ekoyata wanted to get up and go outside. On the rough floor, Obehi was on her knees praying for him. ...

The path was still narrow and dim. Their feet were sliding softly on dry forest leaves. The wind was blowing pretty well. Musical melodies of forest creatures filled the air, resonating through the forest in echoes. After about forty minutes or so trek, Ekoyata saw increased light infiltrating the forest. Trees grew shorter. It was more of grasses and shrubs than gigantic trees now. The grasses were brownish-yellow and Ekoyata knew that they were actually burned by the dry harmattan weather. There were farms now on the sides of the road. Gloria showed him yam farms, rice farms and cassava farms. Ekoyata saw that the yam and the rice farms had been harvested. But their stubbles were still on the farms.  As the world unwind in front of them, the land began to rise too. The grasses also got shorter and paler. Then, Ekoyata saw a vast naked land sprawling ahead of them. And he understood their need of endurance if they would ever get to the hilltop.  When ...