Child of god | book 1 ✅

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Ala-ọnwụ's town crier walked around the village hitting his gong.

“Everybody come and hear ooh! A very sad news has befell Ala-ọnwụ. Adaeze, 10nwa Maduenu, the son of 11ichie Edoga is dead. According to her parents, she could not be found yesterday after school, and her body was found this morning in the market square, tortured and battered.”

The morning was now bright because of sunset, but a news like this put a dark cloud up in the sky. Villagers who were on their way to farm or were already in their farm either shook their heads in disbelief, sorrow or shock. A woman walking with her child even had to hold his hand tight to be sure that he was still there.

The town crier went ahead to spread the news further. Silence replaced cockcrows and the village which should have been bustling with activities was in a state of disarray.

From the bed he was forced to lay on, Dike stood up and approached the window. Curious and afraid of what the news meant, his eyes searched for anything that could prove what he had just heard to be false. Instead, he saw an alignment. In front of the house directly opposite the window, a mother was shouting at her child who was outside sweeping, to go back in because it was not safe for him to be out in the open.

Dike felt the possible summon of a meeting later in the day and knew for a fact that the rumor mill would be at work till then.

But that was not what was in his heart. The assumed rumors were definitely not a bother. What actually was included the fact that the girl he had seen, being strangled and tortured in his sleep could actually be the one that was just reported to be dead. She was fair, had a chubby face and wide eyes filled with fear. Worst, she was in a uniform, her uniform. The uniform of a school whose name he did not know and in addition to her tears and lifeless eyes, he kept seeing her parents who had stopped him the night before, crying while holding the body of their child.

He sighed dejectedly.

He was actually in their neighbour’s house because of his mother’s incompetence and now, there was news of a murderer in town. What was next? He thought. What would be his fate?

So far, their neighbour had been taking good care of him. On his arrival in their house, they had fed him and made him take a warm bath, after which they had proceeded to cleanse his wound and re-adjoin his dislocated arm but he was not letting them. It was just too painful.

So mama Obiora, being the action woman she was, told Obiora to show him to a bed and to make sure that he was well rested before they will visit a nurse who would treat him. Right now, papa Obiora was out in the farm; everyone was out and he was all alone at home. He could not be more grateful to the family for accepting him in, worse yet, letting a stranger stay in their home without a watcher. He got that he was a child but still, a strange and unpredictable child. Or was he predictable? Nope, he would not refer to himself as that. He was especially not predictable or easy to care for, if not, his mother would not have been struggling.

He went back to lie in bed after some time, and with his uninjured arm, raised the duvet to cover himself. Half a minute passed and he was getting bored

Since there was nothing to distract his heart, his eyes took up the job of wandering from left to right, along the length of the room.

Two black and white portraits were hung on the wall. Along with calendars whose faces had past events where they were probably shared as souvenirs. The clock that was above the door barely ticked because of a dead battery and then, at the far end of the wall were a pillar of bags placed near a table decorated with skin care products and comb. There was not a single doubt that the room belonged to Obiora before he came to disrupt things. It may sound like a lie but it truly was not. The custody of the child of a drunk mother had been  unofficially shifted to the arms of a poor, happy family. What could go wrong!