CHAPTER FIFTEEN – WHEN WE FIRST MET.

Uloma felt content and happier than she had felt in longer than she could remember. They were sitting in one of the most secluded forests in their part of the realm. The part where students lived away from real life, away from reality, and in that moment, surrounded by friends, Uloma could pretend that reality did not exist. 

“Ulo, do you remember the first time you snuck out?” 

Tami asked, her eyes shining, she had been animated all evening around Abali. Uloma knew she should have felt threatened, but maybe it was the atmosphere; all she felt was contentment. She smiled at Tami’s question because it sent memories flooding through her. They were in the group’s hangout spot, and the night was wearing on, but someone had found palm wine. Perhaps the feeling of laziness was also a result of the palm wine? 

“Echi never shuts up about his, because that was where he met Ulo.” 

Shani said, wiggling his eyebrows. Around him, oohs and ahhs followed the statement. Ulo rolled her eyes and pretended to bristle. She could not remember the last time she had enjoyed herself this much. She looked over at Echi, who was smiling shyly at her. Beside her, Abali drew her even closer to himself, the jealous goat, Uloma thought, smiling to herself. She was enjoying his discomfort around Echi; it was pleasant to see him suffer.  

“Owhu, if we keep up the teasing, I won’t tell you about my first time.” 

Ulo announced. Her group turned serious, but it lasted less than a second before they were giggling again. Ulo shook her head at them to show her disapproval, but she was giggling too much to sell it. Abali’s owl, nestled between his legs, stirred and settled back down again when Abali reached out to pet her feathers. Ulo could tell her friends felt as relaxed as she was. Kani had her head on Echi’s shoulder, which brought flashbacks to the night of the party for Uloma. Kani winked when she caught Ulo watching her. She looked very relaxed. Ulo thought about Echi’s warmth and smiled knowingly at her friend. That boy can turn the heart of any girl, Uloma thought to herself. 

“Come on, Ulo, just tell us.” 

Someone said. Ulo rolled her eyes like she was doing them a favor by even agreeing to their demands. 

“Fine, stop begging, I will tell you.” 

She replied to the very inebriated faces around her. She started her story, the little fire burning in front of them adding ambiance to her tale. It felt like they were all walking a fine dream. Uloma spun and spun tales, and her inebriated friends held on to her every word as if she were telling them the secrets of the universe. But the more she told her story, the more she felt like she was telling it to herself. She heard her voice, and she saw herself by the small fire Echi had lit for the group; she was in Abali’s arms. The group was giggling at something she had said; it felt real. 

“Ulo.” 

Emenike said beside her, his deep voice she could always feel in her stomach, jolting her out of whatever this was. How had she not seen him before now? What was he doing here? Had he been here all this time? What was happening? Uloma looked as confused as she felt; she could tell. She felt her head spinning. Was she losing consciousness? 

“Hey, hey, look at me” 

Emenike called, but Ulo could not bring herself to; the more anxious she felt, the heavier she felt herself becoming. She was freaking out; her friends were still there. They were ignoring her, but they were still there. She was ignoring herself when it came to it, because she was right there in Abali’s arms, regaling the tiny crowd, who were eating up her words like the drunk group of teenagers they were. That was it; she was intoxicated, Ulo decided. This was not actually happening. 

“I am drunk.” 

Ulo said desperately to Emenike. The kindness in his eyes sent her spiraling again. 

“You cannot be drunk in this form, Ulo.” 

He said, trying to reach out to pat her shoulder, but Ulo angled away. This was her mother’s move, taking her away, but even this felt different; it was new. 

“What?” 

Ulo breathed. She had questions, but she didn't even know how to phrase them, because she didn't know precisely what was happening to her. 

“My sweet girl, your powers are growing, and for some reason, that is dangerous for everyone.” 

Emenike announced he looked real enough, and the kindness in his eyes was genuine enough. It annoyed Uloma that he had said she was a danger with so much kindness. Was it pity she saw in his eyes? Ulo shook her head. 

“I don’t understand.” 

Her powers were growing? Was this one of her powers then? She was not stopping time, was she? What was he talking about? 

“Am I stopping time again?” 

She asked him, confused. Was this stopping time? But it had felt different the last time. Somehow, she could feel that this was not stopping time. She shook her head again at him. 

“This is not me.” 

She said to him, the panic rising. This was not her. She could swear it. She would know, wouldn’t she? Emenike patiently watching her was not helping to calm her. He looked like a picture with that staff and robe, fancy coming to ruin a girl’s night, dressed immaculately, Uloma thought, the panic looking for something to focus on. 

“No, it's not. You are right, my girl. But I have come to trap you in here, unfortunately.” 

“What?” 

Ulo found herself saying again. Was this a dream? Was this what humans meant by 'dreams'? The Ulo in front of her laughed, and the group echoed her laughter. 

“Ulo, look at me.” 

But Ulo could not look at him, with his white hair and his occult robe. He was talking about trapping her, with a kind voice and a jovial face. 

“Ulo, your family suggested it. The prophecy said you could divide into two people. When that horrible incident happened tonight...” 

He paused as if he was trying to get his bearings about him. Ulo had never seen him look as spooked as he looked at that moment. The jovial look had disappeared almost as suddenly as he had appeared here. 

“I feared the worst, Ulo. I have spoken to your mother and sisters. The prophecy did say you could become two, I asked to divide your spirit from your form, your mother does it to you all the time, we thought it would be the safest way to protect you until we can understand what happened tonight.” 

Emenike had a lost look on his face that sent trickles of fear down Uloma’s back. He was not making any sense. 

“I am not sure, but dividing your soul and spirit must be what the prophecy meant, right? This is all new ground for all of us.” 

He spoke quickly, as if he didn't want her to follow his thought process. But was he right? Did the prophecy mean dividing her in two? She should not have a spirit; no other Cosmics did, but here she was. 

“Am I fulfilling the prophecy right now then?” 

Emenike shook his white head, his hat shaking with it. 

“I am not sure. You have a spirit, unlike the rest of us. I deduced that separating you from your spirit was dividing you; it just doesn’t feel right. It feels like I am missing something.” 

He sounded frustrated and tired. He watched the other storytelling Uloma, with Abali’s arms around her, as if she held a secret he was not privy to. 

“One thing I am right about, though, is that you are weaker without the other you. So maybe this would work. Your family and I can’t tell how what has happened this night is connected to you. However, it is, and you are not safe at the moment. I have called for the other Emenikes from around the universe, and they are currently fortifying our realm. For the time being, please hide inside the story you are telling. Hide there. I will come for you when the fortification has been completed.” 

Ulo stared at him, confused. Nothing he was saying made any sense. What did he mean by any of the things he just said? 

“Go into the story? How?” 

Ulo asked, and the confusion on her face was so dark that it could have painted the night sky. Emenike, for the first time since the confusing evening, broke out in a smile. 

“You truly do not listen in any of your classes, do you?” 

Ulo looked at him incredulously, because what has that got to do with anything? 

“Stories about humans can be a vessel. Like their dreams, everything can be revisited or returned to. You can visit a human’s past or present in the safety of their stories. The humans call this prophetic dreaming. You can trap yourself in this story; it is not yours, is it? This is the story of how you met your mother.” 

He was all-knowing after all, Ulo thought, narrowing her eyes at him. 

“You and Asi will one of these days destroy someone with your stare; until then, stop narrowing your eyes at me.” 

Emenike said, his eyes were still smiling. 

“Fine. Now that you know I don’t listen in my classes, how do I go into the story?” 

“Even though you are a child of a god who is the mother of our realm, like I have told you in the past, if you were listening to me then, that is.” 

Emenike eyed her.  

“You have a lot of the attributes of a human. We don’t know why this is, but we can be thankful for this, at this moment, my girl, because this part should be easy for you. Just remember your story. Truly remember it.” 

Ulo knew the drill; she was the only thing in the universe that omniscient Emenike did not know how to solve and could not understand. They had had that talk several times. 

“And that is all?” 

Ulo asked doubtfully. Everything was happening so fast that he was not giving her enough time to think. 

“Mhm.” 

Emenike replied, shrugging his robe. 

“My child, you have been called my pet project, but...” 

“I am the daughter you cannot have.” 

Ulo finished for him. Most of the Emenikes adopted a Cosmic. And some, like her, Emenike did not, but they became very attached to one. She was his one, and she and everyone in the realm knew it. He nodded at her, the concern in his eyes poorly concealed. 

“I will be fine.” 

She assured him. She could see that he needed to hear her say it. 

“You will, my girl. We will make sure of it. Now go!” 

Ulo sighed. This whole thing about her powers had to stop; it had become a daily occurrence now with this power thing. She turned away from him, prepared to follow his instruction. 

“Ehm, but how?” 

She asked, turning back to him. 

“Close your eyes, Ulo.” 

He said patiently, in a tone that sounded like he was trying not to laugh at her. She was only asking a question; she bristled, closing her eyes. Now what? She thought, but even as she was thinking it, she knew.  

She saw the red trail of her voice, saw it winding down a dark path, which, to be fair, was no different from most paths in this realm. She let the path come to her. When she opened her eyes again, she was on another day. A day in her past. It was the day she met Oge for the first time. 

Uloma was sitting in the Dark Forest after having skipped her class. She had had no intention of going into the human realm; of course, it was just another day, refusing to sit in a room with Emenike, droning on about his theories. Wait, Uloma thought, she was here. Here in the Dark Forest, that much was true. But this should not be the same day. She had been with her friends drinking and telling stories. Right, right, she thought, pacing the forest now. Mhm, she nodded to herself. Emenike had been there, hadn’t he? She could swear she remembered him there, but now it felt like a dream. Uloma felt herself shiver. Something wasn’t right; it didn't feel right. Uloma sat down again. She felt better almost immediately, like she was doing the right thing. ‘Like I am following the script, ’ she said out loud to the still forest. The nagging feeling returned with a vengeance. She was supposed to sit here like this; she could not think why. ‘Because you are reliving a day,’ she realized. 

She should have expected what happened next, but it still came as a surprise to her. She heard sniffling and crying. Oge, she realized. Her Oge, Ulo realized, her heart pounding. But why was Oge sniffling and crying? Uloma wondered. And who was Oge? She shook herself for being silly. The name had come to her, almost like it was the name of a real person she knew. She sighed and returned to enjoying the stillness of the Dark Forest. It was always irritating when she had to attend theoretical classes because Abali and Ekani had both graduated from them. How was she expected to care at all about humans when she had so many overlapping characteristics of theirs? She never bothered visiting them; it only reminded her of how different she was from the beings and creatures in her realm. So here she was, instead of going into the human realm, like a regular student cutting class, she was hiding out here.  

The sniffling and crying started up again with a vengeance. Uloma let out an exasperated breath. Trust the humans to spoil everything. Why do they have to be so unhappy all the time? Ulo tried to ignore the crying, but it wouldn’t just go away. She roused herself and rolled her eyes. Resigning herself, she went to see what all the bawling was about. 

Crossing over to the human realm was easy enough; she had done it countless times with Kani, but crossing over from forests like this one was as easy as crossing a line. The human world colored and affected these types of Forests. Their pains and misery create most of them. Ulo walked through the forest, at the point where the darkness was thickest, she felt the tingling in her body that indicated a change in the atmosphere. The spotty dark pins and needles she saw as she crossed over, she also felt on her back. Which only added to her already heightened annoyance. Annoyance, that went away the moment she saw the sight in front of her. 

Calling the crying woman beautiful was a mockery of her appearance. She was divine, Uloma thought, already regretting her use of that stupid Heavenly word. But the woman was that word. The sun that loved to shine in this part of the human realm looked like it knew it had a competition in the woman, and it was trying its absolute hardest to outshine her. The woman wore a long, deep red wrapper that pooled around her where she sat crying. Uloma could feel her breath catch in her throat. The noise from Uloma’s breath intake startled the woman; she looked like she had not expected to be found out. 

“Oh.” 

The woman said simply. Unfolding part of her wrapper from where she held it secured under her armpit, and wiping her tears and nose with it. It looked to Uloma like it was a habit she knew to be bashful about, which she appeared to be. She looked at the wrapper and then at Uloma, and shook her head as if to say sorry. But Uloma could not bring herself to talk; she could not believe how graceful everything about this woman was, the way she wiped her nose with her wrapper looked graceful. 

“I did not expect to see anyone here.” 

She said, Uloma nodded. Why did she want to hug this woman? The woman looked perfect. Her crooked teeth gave her face character, and her tiny lips complemented her round face. Everything about her that should have marred her looks only added to it. The woman blinked at Uloma. 

“You are not much for talking, are you?” 

She asked, regarding Ulo. Ulo shook her head. 

“I have never seen you before. Did you come to trade? You are a little way from the market. Ahh, you must be escaping from your family.” 

The woman looked comfortable talking, for both of them, so Uloma nodded. 

“It's okay, I used to do that too.” 

The woman smiled; she had a faraway look on her face when she did. 

“Ah, the way it used to annoy my brothers. I would beg and beg them to let me tag along on market days when they traveled to trade in other villages. They knew I would not help with anything. When we arrived at the market we would be trading at, but they could never say no to me for long.” 

She had a fond look on her face; the pain that was there earlier had almost vanished. Ulo realized she loved seeing this strange human woman happy. 

“Did you get separated from your brothers and cannot find them? Is that why you are crying?” 

Uloma asked. The woman was laughing even before Uloma finished her question. 

“My brothers would never let me wander this far. They used to threaten to put a bell on me if I wandered very far from the market. I live in this village now, my dear. I married here two years ago.” 

She said, smiling at Ulo. 

“You are married.” 

Uloma repeated, surprised. The woman did not look that much older than Uloma. 

“Two whole years.” 

The woman raised two of her fingers to emphasize her point to Uloma. She looked happy when she talked about her marriage, Uloma noted. 

“Oh.” 

Uloma replied. 

“Mhm. I know. I look young, don’t I? Ahh, I have heard it several times. To be clear, I am young, which is a good thing because if I were not, and I had not given my husband a child, it would be horrible, wouldn’t it? So, thank the gods for that at least.” 

There was a wistfulness in her voice that concerned Uloma. Uloma looked at the woman; she felt a sudden protective instinct towards her. It was strange - this strange woman had stirred up strange feelings in her. 

“You don’t have a child.” 

Uloma asked the woman. The woman smiled sadly at Uloma, her eyes watering again. Uloma instinctively walked closer to the woman. 

“Not yet. I come here every day to ask the gods for help. I have been told that this is a forest that the gods patrol, but they don’t seem to want to help me.” 

The laugh that came out of the woman was full of sadness; it broke Uloma’s heart. However, the woman soon began smiling again. 

“My husband will soon be home, and the afternoon is wearing on. You can come home with me if you are not ready to rejoin your family just yet.” 

The woman offered. Uloma considered this for only a fraction of a second. She was not a god or even a fully trained Cosmic, so there was a time cap limiting how long she could spend in the human realm, but this woman was too intriguing to be given up like that. Uloma nodded her agreement with the woman’s offer. The woman beamed in response, stood up, and swatted the sand off her backside. She was the shapeliest woman Ulo had ever seen. 

“Oh, you will love my husband. Thankfully, you won’t meet his annoying mother; she is trading at a neighboring village today. So double lucky. Haha.” 

The woman laughed. 

“My name is Ogechi.” 

She said to Ulo. 

“The timing of the gods.” 

Uloma interpreted. The woman nodded. 

“My husband says my name means the gods will give us a child at the right time.” 

Uloma nodded. She knew the gods in charge of giving children; her mother was sort of one of them, and those gods were not that dependable. She could have told this gorgeous woman, but she would have been unkind to destroy her hope, so Uloma just nodded and smiled at her. 

“My father gave me the name because he wanted a daughter from my mother, his third wife; he wanted a daughter who would look just like my mother, and after they had already given up, I made my entrance. I don’t want to wait that many years, though, plus my mother had my brothers, so she did not have to endure all the back talk that I have had to endure, you see.” 

Ulo nodded. 

“Look at me talking, I have not asked you for your name. What is your name?” 

She asked, Uloma was taken aback; they had been talking for that long that Uloma had just assumed they had covered that ground. Ulo smiled at the talkative woman, who was quickly winning her over. 

“Uloma.” 

Uloma said. 

“Ulo, can I call you Ulo? You have such a beautiful name. I love it.” 

Ulo guffawed and nodded at the woman. 

“Come on.” 

The woman said, her bead shaking seductively around her full waist as she led Uloma down the winding, narrow path in front of them. 

“You know, I am glad I was never one to stick with my family on our visits to neighboring villages when my brothers and I visited, because I would have never met my Obu. You will love him. He is not the best talker, just like you, but he is a great listener. You are both very much alike.” 

Oge said, turning back to look at Ulo. Ulo smiled at her, unsure of how to respond. They walked a long way, Uloma wondered as they were walking, why the woman did not just go to cry near a forest closer to her home. She was happy to be with her, but the sun meant business. Uloma could feel the ground trying to drink the fluid off her feet. She wanted to shout at the ground, to tell it that she had no fluid to give! Oge did not look bothered by the scotching, blistering heat, though. She chatted on. She told Uloma about her village, about her father, who was the king’s right-hand man. About her beautiful brothers, who looked exactly like her mother and got all the attention wherever they went, and how she was barely noticeable in the presence of her three brothers. Uloma found it hard to believe anyone in this realm could overshadow or eclipse this woman. They finally reached a small compound near the center of the town. Everyone the woman passed stopped to greet her. It was a market day, and like most trading villages, the place was teeming with people, yet everyone stopped to say hello to Ogechi. Ogechi, to her credit, knew everyone’s name. She spoke to them like they were individuals who mattered to her. Uloma fell more and more in love with this woman the more she saw of her. She realized that Ogechi was as warm to strangers as she was to friends. She treated everyone as if they deserved to be liked. Uloma knew this was the kind of behavior she would have usually found irritating, but it suited Oge. It looked well on her. 

“Welcome to my home.” 

Ogechi announced when they finally arrived at her compound. Uloma did not know what she had expected to see, but the shocking, tiny, bare compound was not it. It was evident that Ogechi and her husband were not well off. As the daughter of the mother of a realm, Ulo was accustomed to wealth and plenty, but this was jarring in a humbling way. ‘I guess Ogechi is all the wealth this place needs,’ a tiny voice at the back of Ulo’s head said, and Ulo knew, as tacky as that sounded, it felt right. 

Ogechi took Uloma to an open kitchen and pulled out a kitchen stool for her to sit on. Uloma had never been in a kitchen; she had never even seen her maids and servants. Her food appeared when she wanted it. Oge talked to Uloma as she pulled out leaves and dry fish and chucked them into a deep brown wooden bowl. She spoke as she ground the dry fish into powder, talking as she added fresh red pepper to the mix, pounding away, sweat running down her face and body, adding to her perfection. Ulo felt smitten. 

The birds started to appear just before Obuzor walked into the compound. Ulo glanced over at them and, at Ogechi’s evident obliviousness to their existence. Ulo knew the human world was telling her she had overstayed her welcome. 

“Obu, we are over here.” 

Oge called to the man entering the compound, stomach first. He was waving goodbye to someone; his heavy laughter thrilling the afternoon. Slung over his shoulder, he carried a still antelope; in his left hand was a stained, muddied cutlas; the hot afternoon heat left his exposed upper body glistening with sweat. The thought that came to Uloma’s mind as she watched this man was ‘masculine.’ If Masculine were a man, it would be Oge’s husband banding up to them, his eyes gleaming almost as much as his muscles. 

“Obim.” 

He greeted his wife when he reached them inside the open kitchen, threw down the antelope effortlessly, and smiled at Ulo. He was an image, this man and his perfect wife. 

“She took you against your will.” 

He laughed, pulling a crossbow from his back, as if this was not the first time he had made that joke, and as if he did not expect that it would be the last. Ulo smiled shyly up at him. When was the last time she felt shy in front of someone? she wondered as she watched the man bustle up to his wife, crossbow in one hand. 

“You were very successful, I can see, mama would be proud when she returns.” 

She said, indicating to the poor antelope with two arrows to its side. 

“Are you proud?” 

Her husband asked her. 

“Please.” 

She laughed, rolling her eyes conspiratorially at Uloma. 

“People would think now that I don’t praise you enough, but you and I know that you are just fishing for compliments.” 

“My wife is a hard woman to please. You are a witness.” 

Obu said, turning to Uloma. Ogechi scrunched up her nose at her husband, scooping up the mixture she had been pounding into a small calabash bowl, she set it aside. 

“Before the whole village hears that I am a wicked, ungrateful woman, you have done well, my husband.” 

Oge said in mock surrender, as she rose and walked towards the firehouse, her husband following her every move. 

“Ehem, that is how it should be. A husband deserves accolades for his efforts. Now that you have admitted it all by yourself, without coercion, that I have done well. Where is my reward?” 

He told her, his eyes never straying from her for a second. Uloma found herself contentedly watching their happiness; it felt like being in another person’s moment. 

“Ha, that is why I did not say anything. I knew it was a trap. You see how this man treats me poorly.” 

She complained, turning to Uloma, the laughter on her face matched the admiration and love in her eyes for her husband, Uloma noted. Oge returned her attention to the firehouse. She arranged the firewood there to encourage the small, budding fire on the dying coals. 

“Oya then, what do you want for your reward?” 

She asked him, and he looked at her, pretending to think about her question. Uloma could see that he knew the answer long before he started this dance with his wife. 

“Your Oha soup! Ha, that soup, after a very long, hot day, my love, nothing can beat it.” 

Ogechi was laughing even before her husband finished. 

“My husband and food.” 

She said conspiratorially as if Uloma was supposed to understand the joke. Watching them was like coming home to warm food and a cold drink after a long day. Uloma found herself carried along with their love banter. The blackbirds were multiplying around them, but Ulo ignored the feathery creatures. 

“So, you will make it?” 

He asked her, hope filling his face. 

“See me pounding this leaf, thinking that you would like abacha, was that not what you told me you wanted this morning? You like to make me suffer, oh, this man.” 

Oge complained; she was now fanning the fire, unbothered by the smoke. She talked with her husband as if her eyes were not watering. Ulo coughed as the smoke reached her. Oge, without even stopping a beat, rushed to the corner of the kitchen where the keg of water was and fetched Ulo a drink. 

“Ah, ah, we can still eat abacha, that one is not a problem, a small appetizer is always a good idea.” 

Obuzor said, palming his heavy stomach, also oblivious to the effect of the smoke. Ogechi laughed in response to her husband. 

“I have heard, my ever-hungry husband. It is Oha that you want, it is Oha that you will get, have you heard?” 

The delight on Obu’s face warmed Uloma’s heart. He beamed at his wife and hugged her like he was a bear holding his human, and judging by his size, he could pass for one, Uloma thought, hiding a smile. 

“You, leave me.” 

Oge complained, but Uloma noticed she was not attempting to move from her husband’s embrace. 

“This man and his embarrassing show of affection, ehn.” 

She quarreled. Her husband’s laughter was deep and satisfying as he released his wife. He scratched his bald head and hefted his wrapper tighter around his waist. This was a happy man, Uloma thought, watching him. He caught her looking at him and smiled. He had a smile that ate his face. Uloma couldn't help but smile back at him. 

“I am going to wash and freshen up. When I come back, I will skin the antelope. Save some of the gist for me, oh. Don’t finish them in my absence.” 

He said to his wife. She had a pot on the firehouse now. The rising smoke had tempered; it curled around the pot, bathing it in silver. 

“You like gossip.” 

Ulo chided Obuzor, laughing. 

“My husband and gossip.” 

She said tenderly to Uloma, and Uloma smiled at her, unsure what her response should be. Oge always spoke to her as if she thought Uloma knew or understood what she meant, as if Uloma were an old friend. Instead of it being annoying, it was rather endearing, Uloma thought. She never knew how to respond to the warmth and sweetness of this woman. The birds were nearing a crescendo now; they were piling up onto each other. Ulo knew when she was beaten and when she needed to accept defeat; any more of them, and the humans would start to suffer their effects. 

“I have to go now.” 

Ulo announced to the couple. 

“Ah, now, why? I am almost done with the abacha, you can take some to your family.” 

Oge informed her. 

“I hope you are not leaving because of me. I have been with this woman long enough to expect visitors every day. You can stay the night if you want.” 

Obuzor cajoled. 

“Oh no, I have just stayed here longer than I should. But I will come and visit another time, I promise. I know where you live now.” 

Ulo assured them, eying the birds cycling them. 

“Are you sure? Why don’t you take some of the antelope meat? Obum cut some for her.” 

Ulo shook her head and raised her palm to stop Obuzor, who was getting ready to carry out his wife’s instruction. He was already reaching for the blade he had brought with him when he returned from his hunting. 

“I promise I will come back another time. And sooner than you will expect. Thank you for having me. You truly have a beautiful home and marriage.” 

Obu blushed more than his wife when Ulo complimented them. 

“You are kind.” 

He thanked her. 

“She is very sweet, isn’t she? Please do come and visit another time, okay?” 

Oge told Uloma. 

“I will.” 

Uloma nodded. She pulled herself from the stool, not wanting to leave. They were strangers she had just met, human strangers, and yet here she was wanting to spend more time with them. 

“You have promised, oh.” 

Oge was saying, Uloma nodded to assure her new friend. 

“You are sure you don’t want some of the meat?” 

Obuzor asked her, his kind face a contrast to his giant look. Uloma smiled at him and shook her head as she made to leave them. They would not allow her to go on her own. They insisted on walking her to their fence at least. 

“Since you insist that you don’t want us to accompany you to the market to meet your family. Tell them they can come with you next time you hear? We will be happy to host them.” 

Oge said to her. They walked her to the flower bush that doubled as their fence and waved as she left them. Uloma felt sad leaving them. She would have stayed longer; she wanted to stay here longer. She thought, eying the flocks of tiny birds swarming around the small compound. Oblivious, the couple stayed waving to Ulo until she was barely visible against the vengeful glare of the afternoon sun.