Adigun took a step back, his heart racing. The voice of the deity echoed in the air, dark and mocking; "The abandoned son returns. He who accepts what has been refused." Adigun’s eyes widened in shock. His father had another son? So the gossips were true.  The youngman took slow steady steps towards Adigun. His body seemed to be vibrating with anger and his voice cut through the air, sharp and bitter; 

The next morning, Adigun couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was wrong. His phone buzzed, breaking the silence. A message from an unknown number; "Your fate is sealed. The gods are not merciful." His stomach churned as he read the words. He was no longer certain of anything. The more he tried to ignore it, the stronger the feeling became.  Desperate for answers, he contacted his father's friend, an elderly man named Chief Olamide. Olamide was wise and respected by everyone, but he always seemed distant. Adigun decided not to think much of his cryptic advice but his words echoed in his mind all day; "Go to your grandfather's village. Find the truth before it's too late."

Adigun grew up to be a handsome young man. He had no knowledge of the legacy that shadowed his family. He was not cut out to be a farmer so he started a small delivery business in Ibadan, navigating the chaotic streets on his okada, delivering packages to clients with no questions asked. One evening, Adigun received a strange delivery request. A package wrapped in a cloth with strange symbols and a note that read: "Deliver exactly at midnight. Do not look back." He felt the package was strange but he had never believed in superstitions. Besides, he was in the business to make money, and he had made far stranger deliveries. Before midnight, he rode off on his okada. It was midnight when he arrived at the destination—a rundown house at the outskirts of the city. The compound was dead silent and a single dim light bulb hung above the front door. He knocked. No response.  Suddenly his phone buzzed with a message from an unknown number.

Long ago, in a quiet village near Ibadan, the chief priest had recently passed on without appointing a successor. The villagers became worried so the elders approached their highest deity to reveal the next chief priest.  Days later, a young hunter named Adigun was chosen by the village deity. It was an honor, a sacred duty to be the chosen one, but Adigun had no interest in the shrine nor the serving the deity—his desire was to see the world, to travel beyond the forests and rivers that caged him. The elders heard of his refusal and warned him. His family pleaded. Everyone knew that the deity had spoken and Adiguns fate was sealed. But Adigun's mind was made up — nobody could convince him. One morning, before the first cock crowed, Adigun, tired of the villagers, packed his bag and disappeared.

The door opened to reveal a smiling face—the face of Mama Chibu, the village florist. Ayo’s eyes widened in surprise. Mama Chibu had lost her family in an auto crash many years ago. Years later, she opened her home to orphaned children in the village. She was always kind to everyone and the villagers loved her.  He had never stopped by her shop but when the roses became persistent, he had thought of asking her for the identity of her customers. Ayo dropped the idea because almost all the villagers patronized her on Valentine’s Day. Was she the one behind the roses and the notes? How was this possible?

In the rush, the hood slipped off—revealing Zara, the village’s deaf and mute girl. Ayo froze. Zara? She was the girl known for her gentle nature, her pleasant smiles, and the small woven baskets she sold at the market. It was also no secret that she could not read, write, or speak. So, how could she be the one leaving him roses with handwritten notes? She looked at him, her round eyes filled with uncertainty, as if she had been caught doing something forbidden. Ayo let go of her shirt and slowly took a step backwards. "Zara?" he asked, his voice softer now. "You... why have you been doing this?" She smiled at him, blinking rapidly.

Ayo hated Valentine’s Day when the world turned red and pink, became plagued by a parade of cliché love proposals, boring grand gestures and an anthem of cheesy love songs. The most annoying was the exploitative prices of chocolates and basic commodities.  He always made sure not to have anything to do with all the drama, but for the past three years, a mysterious single red rose had appeared on his doorstep every February 14th. No name. Just a perfect, fresh rose with a sealed note waiting for him. The first year, he had thought it was probably a mistake so he ignored it. The second year, he found it irritating and kicked it off his doorstep. The third year, it drove him crazy. He dumped it inside the trash can. Whoever was doing that was testing his patience, he had scoffed, angry. By the fourth year, Ayo was frustrated but curious. Yet, he didn’t let it show as he ignored the items at his doorstep and went about his day, thinking little of it. But when he got home and met it st...

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"Today was fun."  His voice was smooth, almost sensual and it warmed up my insides. I love this man's voice and I could listen to him speak forever. But, wait a moment. why does his voice suddenly sound different? Could it be the alcohol in my system toying with my ears or just my hormones? I reasoned with myself. "Did you hear what I said?"  He asked while his eyes held mine in search of a response... so I nodded briefly, unable to utter a word.  At that point, I had given up on trying to extinguish my fiery emotions. I was a furnace ready to ignite anything, anyone...yet, there we stood—outside my door, instead of inside, where we could let our souls harmonize to the eternal tune. Just kiss him already or go inside, you both look ridiculous just standing here at your doorstep; my mind nudged.  "Can we do this again?"  He asked while his finger gently ran down the length of my bare arm to find a resting place around my waist. Kiss me already! I wille...

It has been two years since we started dating and he was becoming more restless. He had recently complained about how my busy schedules were interfering with our relationship. That was a first because he'd never complained before. To make up for my lack of presence, I took the initiative, got the day off and convinced him to do same. I planned everything—the day off, the dinner, the fun activities. Dinner was at an expensive restaurant. 

I am from the Western part of Africa, Nigeria to be precise. I grew up speaking my mother tongue so there was no struggle of finding a cultural balance, Having friends, neighbors and people from the same ethnic didvide as mine made communication easy so I am definitely fluent and deeply grounded in the Igbo culture. However, with Nigeria or Naija being a multicultural society, I have had to learn how to speak, relate with and embrace other cultures particularly that of the three main ethnic groups.

As we celebrate the birth of Christ, may your homes be filled with love, peace and joy and your hearts with glad tidings. Merry Christmas from NIB More On NIB December to Remember  Christmas: Reasons to be Merry German Christmas Market Experience