TEARS OF THE LONELY
by
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1 The Encounter It was a ¬sunny afternoon. The sun was lofty high in the sky. And its rays reflected on the lonely path that led to the village market. The path was deserted, and wore the garment of quietude. But for the sounds of a footstep that heralded the coming of a passer-by, with a clockwork precision. “Wait!” A voice called out from the winds. The passer-by halted suddenly. He had heard a voice. The little boy was sure he heard a voice. Tall, elephant grasses graced the otiose bushes fencing the footpath leading to the market. The boy waited. He turned his eyes about, to be sure of where the voice was coming from. He had noticed a few things. The deserted bushes curved into a shaggy mane of hair, distorting his sight. He brushed them aside with the back of his right hand, to see the jokester lurking away from sight. He could see no one. He bent low, low enough to smell the beautiful dust on the gleaming clay road; which reddens the foot of every graceless wayfarer. Still, he found nothing. Satisfied, the boy stood erect and turned to leave. Only for his feet to be barricaded by words that metamorphosed into a knoll. “Look, I am here.” He had heard again. His whole being could testify to this ethereal truth. The voice was soft, calling and tempting. It echoed within his inner cavity. Droplets of timidity began to wet his soul. The innocent boy became afraid. The voice had spoken from his right side. His neck stiffened under the gargantuan weight of his head. His mouth salivated. And he swallowed each atom of saliva to quench the fire of fear that was stoking in his heart. He turned his head slightly to the right. He rolled his eyes sideways, to catch a total view of the intimidating jokester. His sight caught a tree. Indeed, it was a tree: a large, firmly rooted, cashew tree. Its roots spread out like tentacles over the earth. Its slender branches held high, the greenish leaves and the ripened cashew fruits. The leaves cropped up so high and around the tree, that it stood fixed like an ancient demigod. It was unbelievable. The boy’s fear suddenly vanished. He knew the cashew tree. It had always been there, as far as he could remember. He turned his head fully to gaze the object. The wind blew softly around the cashew tree. It surreptitiously oozed out alluring fragrance from the old village tree. And its leaves swayed. The boy stood, rooted to the ground, engulfed by the enticing fragrance. He smiled. He was certain that the cashew tree couldn’t have spoken to him. He laughed at his foolishness. He was sure to have been eluded by his feeding thoughts. He stole furtive glances at the cashew fruits. He contemplated on whether to pluck some of it or not. “You can have as much as you want.” The unknown voice said. Again, the boy had heard, audibly. Not with his heart, but with his ears. He had contemplated plucking some cashew fruits, and he just heard an affirmative from the tree! The whole world changed before him. The cashew tree had undulated into a head with escalated dreadlocks. With a few inches apart, two over-ripened cashew fruits hung loosely at the centre of the tree. Swaying gently, blinking as an eye. A few leaves, stretching from both sides, overlapped on one another, a few inches below the imagined eyes. It waved and recoiled in an attempt to enunciate words. The air began to blow forcefully with an unimaginable crescendo. The atmosphere was changing. The clouds began to move swiftly away from the surface of the sky. Endangering darkness crawled towards the surface of the sky. The innocent boy was beclouded by fear and terror. He shut his eyes, shook his head, and flicked his eyes open. Darkness vanished. Everything returned back to normal. The cashew tree swayed gently under the sunny afternoon. But the eyes and lips had remained. The boy began to peer closer at the organs. His mind raced beyond the hills and rivers. His heart thudded heavily against his chest. Suddenly, a great strength rejuvenated his whole being. He held unto it. Quickly, he turned away from the cashew tree and fled to the market…
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About the Book
Do the tears of the lonely ever dry? Okiki’s world is awakened by a strange encounter with a mysterious cashew tree, a talking tree. He finds solace in the mysterious tree as he leans on its tutelage to battle the vicissitudes of his family life. He faces the challenge of an intolerable father, Adigun, who grossly abuses his wife and makes life unbearable for his three children. Amope, a humble-hearted mother, with pious extravagances, would not allow her children to show ill feelings toward their benefactor as she battles with epilepsy. All these culminate in the mind of Doja, Amope’s first son, as he awaits the accurate time to pin his father’s callousness against the walls of vengeance. The stage is set when Okiki grasps education as his lasting panacea to end his tears. But darkness begins to roam around his flickering light of hope when his father escapes to the city with his secret lover, his brother is being pursued by a weight of guilty conscience, and his sister’s marital dream is being smeared in their pursuit to salvage Amope’s life. This is a heart-rending and inspiring story set in Nigeria’s post independence years, creating a perfect imagery of a failing nation through a dysfunctional family, while the vision for a glorious future is set in the eyes of a lonely child.
About the Author
Ayo Oyeku is a Nigerian writer. Through his various published works in foreign anthologies, he has established himself as a perfect writer with the African edge, both in prose and poetry. He divides his time between writing, nation building, and entrepreneurship. This is his first novel.