Season One
The cock had not crowed a second time when Nkem awoke.
The village of Ekenga Ezudo still lay beneath a blanket of mist, its mud houses barely visible through the pale morning haze. Dew clung to the leaves of cassava plants, and the scent of damp earth drifted through the cool air.
She rose quietly from the raffia mat so as not to wake little Chijioke.
The child slept peacefully, one tiny hand resting beneath his cheek.
Nkem smiled.
"There is peace on your face," she whispered. "May life never steal it from you."
She covered him gently with a soft wrapper before stepping outside.
The compound was already stirring.
Chief Chinedu sat on a low wooden stool, sharpening his cutlass with slow, steady strokes. The scraping sound echoed through the quiet morning.
"You're awake early," Nkem said.
He looked up and smiled.
"A farmer who sleeps after sunrise is already behind the day."
She laughed.
"And a wife who lets her husband go hungry has invited gossip."
Chinedu chuckled.
"Then I shall eat well today."
Their laughter filled the compound.
Mama Ifeoma, who had been sweeping the yard with a palm-frond broom, smiled to herself.
"Peace in a home," she said, "is sweeter than palm wine."
Later that morning, the village became alive.
It was Nkwo Market Day, the busiest day in the surrounding communities.
From every direction, people walked towards the marketplace.
Women balanced baskets of vegetables, cocoyam, pepper, and dried fish upon their heads.
Young men led goats tied with ropes.
Blacksmiths carried hoes and cutlasses.
Potters displayed clay pots baked to a deep reddish brown.
The narrow paths filled with greetings.
"Ututu oma!"
"Nno!"
"Kedu?"
Laughter travelled as freely as the morning breeze.
Nkem prepared to leave.
She tied Chijioke securely to her back with a colourful wrapper.
The little boy slept soundly, unaware of the world around him.
"I'll return before sunset," she told Chinedu.
"Buy only what we need," he replied with a smile.
"And greet Chief Eze if you see him."
"I will."
Nkwo Market spread beneath towering udala and mango trees.
The sound of bargaining rose into the air like birdsong.
"Oga! This yam is the best in the whole of Imo!"
"Reduce the price, Mama!"
"You want to carry my farm for free?"
Laughter erupted.
Nearby, drummers entertained travellers while children danced barefoot in the red dust.
The aroma of roasted maize mingled with fresh palm wine and spicy pepper soup.
Nkem moved calmly from one stall to another.
Everyone greeted her warmly.
"How is the new mother?"
"How is little Chijioke?"
"He grows stronger every day," she replied with gratitude.
An elderly woman selling woven baskets touched the baby's tiny foot.
"May this child never know shame."
"Amen," Nkem answered.
Meanwhile...
At the far end of the market...
A stranger arrived.
No one knew where he had come from.
He wore a faded brown wrapper draped over one shoulder.
His beard was long.
His walking stick was polished smooth by years of travel.
He bought nothing.
He sold nothing.
Instead...
He walked slowly through the market, his eyes quietly observing the people.
A few children greeted him.
He smiled but said nothing.
When he reached the centre of the market, he stopped.
His gaze settled...
On Nkem.
Or rather...
On the child sleeping peacefully upon her back.
For only a heartbeat.
Then he lowered his eyes and continued walking.
Nkem never noticed him.
Nor did anyone around her.
Elsewhere in the market, Chief Eze concluded the sale of several baskets of palm fruit.
As he counted his cowries, a young trader approached.
"Chief Eze."
"Yes?"
"I heard your friend's son has brought blessings to his compound."
Eze smiled proudly.
"He has."
"Chief Chinedu waited many years for that child."
"May God preserve him."
"Amen."
Clouds slowly gathered above the marketplace.
Not dark enough for rain.
Just enough to cast gentle shadows over the stalls.
The wind blew softly.
Without warning...
The stranger stopped once again.
His walking stick struck the ground.
Tap.
A dry leaf rolled across the earth.
He looked towards the distant hills.
His lips moved silently.
No sound escaped them.
Only the wind seemed to listen.
Then...
He smiled faintly.
And continued walking until he disappeared into the crowd.
By the time anyone looked in his direction...
He was gone.
As evening approached, traders packed their goods.
Children yawned.
The drummers laid their instruments aside.
Nkem adjusted the wrapper holding Chijioke.
For the first time that day...
The little boy opened his eyes.
Instead of crying...
He looked toward the path where the stranger had disappeared.
His tiny eyes remained fixed there.
As though searching for someone.
Nkem noticed.
"What is it, my son?"
She turned to look.
The pathway was empty.
Only dry leaves danced across the dusty road.
She smiled and kissed his forehead.
"You must have seen a bird."
But the child continued staring...
Until the wind finally became still.
Back in his compound that night, Chief Chinedu listened as Nkem described the day's activities.
"The market was unusually crowded," she said.
"And little Chijioke behaved himself."
Chinedu laughed.
"He's already helping his mother."
They both smiled.
Outside...
Far beyond the sleeping village...
A lone figure stood upon a rocky hill.
His back faced the moon.
His staff rested against his shoulder.
The wind circled around him once...
Before becoming still.
The old traveller slowly closed his eyes.
Then, almost like a prayer...
He whispered,
"Not yet..."
The night answered only with silence.