There was no more me, only Kudaisi. I felt what he felt, saw what he saw. I had become him.As a little boy, after spending the better parts of the day playing and running around the whole neighborhood with friends, I would end up on Iya Agba’s bed after dinner with his head on her bony thighs as she either tell me a story or sing a song while her fingers softly caress his head. She will only stop when I’m drowsing to take me to his room, or after I doze off and I will wake up the next day to find himself in his own room, on his bed.One thing about those times is, I am always secure in the warmth of her bosom, like the kind of feeling a chick has staying under the wings of its mother. I was immovable, untouchable, I was free—unrestrained.The same feeling encompass me now as Iya Agba’s scent invades his senses—the scent of home, of love, of the feeling that nothing can ever go wrong.“Kudaisi.”I groan, re
Last Updated : 2021-11-22 Read more