1

I dropped all the firewood I had picked at once. My back felt stiff but that was a too normal feeling after walking the usual distance with that amount of firewood on your head.

I sighed as I tried my best to stretch my back, trying my best to get enough mobility to my back. I would need it for the rest of my chores.

Finally feeling satisfied I bent down to gather the firewood and take them to where they should be.

It wasn’t like my aunty cooked with firewood. There were two kerosene stoves inside, the firewood was for cooking her cassava and the preparation for fufu that I mostly took care of.

“Cheta”, I heard my name being called, i hurried out of the outside kitchen to the front of the house.

There the older woman stood with her usual grim face, she almost never smiled. I was used to it.

She also barely had any reasons to.

“Are you done with gathering firewood?”, she asked me.

“Yes, they are in the kitchen now”.

She nodded in satisfaction.

“You need to get the bag of cassava from Mama ebube, her sons are not around so they can not bring them here.

You can manage Ahbi”.

I nodded almost immediately to her request.

It wasn’t like I could say no, who else would get them?

“Okay na.

Go now so we can start pulling the cassava before afternoon. Let me boil yam for us to eat”.

“Yes ma”, I said before turning around to walk towards the market.

The market was a bit far from our house.

But it was still a trek-able distance, though I wasn’t sure how trek-able it would be with a sack of cassava on my head while coming back.

After an approximately 25 minute walk, I was at the market and mummy Ebube was kind enough to help me get the sack on my head.

I was walking on my way back trying my best not to get tired too quickly because I still had a long way to go.

I felt something go into my eye, probably from the cassava and I shut my eyes using my hand to scratch it out. Although I felt it wasn’t helping, what else could I do?

Before I knew it I was hitting a wall and I was on the floor and I guessed my Cassava was also scattered on the floor.

How could I hit a wall?

I opened my eyes and I finally felt whatever was in the fall off. I looked up to what definitely wasn’t a wall but a man. And not just any man but a man in a suite.

The man had his hair perfectly cut like those men on hair creams. He had a perfectly trimmed beard, his beard looked more groomed than my hair.

Although he had the skin color of every other black man, his skin had a different glow to it. His skin looked like rich and raw cacao seeds under the sun. Most importantly the man did not look from around here, his shiny shoe and perfectly pressed three piece black suit said it all.

Emekuku village had rich men, politicians and businessmen. But none of them could measure up to the man that stood towering me.

His face was stone cold, grim even. Void of any emotion as he looked back at me almost curiously.

How could a man who looked this rich, frown like that? What could be the reason to frown?

“I’m so sorry”, I said, snapping myself out of my trance and helping myself get up.

The man only looked at me with curiosity evident in his eyes this time around.

“I am so sorry sir.

I wasn’t looking at where I was going”, I said apologetically trying to get at least a reaction from him.

“Ndo(sorry)”, I apologized again, this time in my native tongue.

“gịnị kpatara nwata nwany ị dị ka gị ga-eji buru ihe okpukpu abụọ karịa gị(why will a small girl like you carry something twice your size)”, he asked.

I felt my eyes bulge at his words.

His Igbo was perfect, he didn’t miss a beat.

How does a man like this who looked obviously from abroad speak perfect Igbo?

“Uhhh…..” I stuttered, still surprised at him.

“Odi mma(it's fine/it’s good)”, he said in response after watching me struggle trying to find words for almost a minute.

“Thank____”, I stammered and scrambled to the ground now trying to gather my cassava.

I felt his presence behind but I knew my cassava won’t pick itself.

“Help her gather those.

And you get a new sack for her”, I heard him say.

I saw another man in black get to my level helping me gather the cassava.

“No no, I can do it myself”, I protested.

The man barely spared me a glance and only continued gathering, following the other man’s orders.

I stood up realizing the man wouldn’t let me pick my own cassava. I turned around to the man I bumped into earlier and he didn’t hide the fact that he was looking at me. He still was, as if he was learning every inch of me.

I felt so small under his gaze and I bit my tongue not being able to form the words I needed to.

“T____thank you”, I forced it out of my mouth.

He looked at me curiously still, not making any remark or acknowledgement of my gratitude.

Thankfully we were interrupted by his men, telling them it was all done.

I nodded and then went over to my now newly packed sack of cassava.

I looked around feeling helpless, not knowing how to ask for help to put it on my head.

I exhaled out of frustration and nervousness at the same time.

“Excuse me?

Can I get some help?”, I said, not really referring to anyone.

“Yes”, the man I bumped into answered.

I didn’t expect it but he stridded towards me, allowing me to notice just how long his legs were.

No wonder he stood over me like a tree.

Before I could say any, with ease the sack was over his shoulder.

“I______ put it on my head”, I stammered, stumbling on my words in the process.

“Come”, he said calmly but I knew it was more of a demand.

He started to walk and the men followed.

Unsure of what to do as I looked around me, trying to see if I could get some help.

I couldn’t leave the cassava with them.

With that very important thought, I trailed after them.

He finally stopped and dropped the sack in the boot of a black car that seemed too expensive and too clean to be transporting a sack of cassava. Even too clean to transport someone like me.

I paused close to the car in front of him.

He had his hands crossed and even on a suite I knew his arms were huge.

“Let me get you and your big sack of cassava home”, he said, barely leaving me room to argue.

I opened my mouth to protest but he was already walking to the passenger door and he was holding it open.

“Hop in”, he said simply, making me look around for someone else he was talking to.

“I assume you have a place to be Mma(beauty)”.

I swallowed hard at his compliment, not quite knowing how to react to it.

The most handsome man I have ever seen was offering me a ride, well not offering but demanding. And while at it he was complimenting me, a girl dressed in rags who seemed unworthy to even clean his expensive shoes.

If I kept wasting time, aunty won’t be happy.

Having no other choice I took his offer and got into the car while he closed the door behind me.

Imagine if he is an occult man. That would explain why he smelt of riches and walked with men in black and also drove a black car.

I prayed silently for my safety while avoiding his gaze by looking through the dark car window.

I wasn’t a confident person but next to this man while he drove. I felt as small as a fly.

I could feel myself practically shaking in fear by just being this close to him.

I hugged myself feeling cold.

“Are you feeling cold?”I heard him say, making me turn my head to him. His eyes were on the road.

“No no”, I replied.

I turned back to the window again, this time trying even harder to steady my breath.

I felt his hand over my chest causing my heart to skip A beat.

I felt my lungs stop taking air and followed his hand with my eyes.

He dragged over the seatbelt and clicked it then focused on the road.

Breathed out relieved.

He asked me where I stayed and I told him telling him I could direct him when needed.

After our conversation about where I lived, the car fell silent.

We were driving on the right road home and I felt relaxed now knowing I was not getting kidnapped.

“What’s your name?”, I heard him ask.

His words made me face him once again.

“Cheta”, I replied lowly.

“Chetachi”, he said like he was tasting the sound of my name on his tongue.

I had never heard my name sound that way before.

Maybe it was the fact that he was obviously not brought up here, but his tongue gave my name a different sound. A very different sound.

“Mma why were you carrying something so heavy by yourself”, I heard him ask, making me turn to face him.

“What are you using that much cassava for?”, he asked further.

“Fufu”, was all I managed to say.

My palms were now too sweaty. I was nervous before but as he asked these questions I was even more nervous.

“Are you hot?”, I heard him say.

I looked at him and we both met eyes.

I shook my head and then looked away.

“Are you from Emekuku”, I heard him say and I nodded, this time not looking at him, but down.

“Use your words mma”, he said. His voice sounded suggestive, yet I felt it wasn’t a suggestion at all.

“Yes”, I managed to say,

After only a few minutes, we were in my compound.

I opened the car and stepped down and he helped open the booth of the car then helped with bringing out the sack of cassava.

“Thank you”, I said this time without stammering.

“Sorry that I bumped into you”, he said. Although his tone was as flat as ever, just as it had been since we met.

Yet you could sense the honesty in his voice. He was an honest man, despite whomever he was.

He nodded one more time then got in his car, the rest of the cars that followed us followed suit.

“Cheta”, I heard my aunty call.

“Ma?”I said, turning around to answer her.