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Chapter 1



Zuma watched as the children begins to settle down around him. Tonight is going to be a long night he thought. Zuma like his father and his father's father before him has become the village story teller. Children whom he had told stories to, some are married already and some has become chiefs in the village and as he watched the new arrivals, he often wondered what potential each of them has. He wondered today just as has been wondering every night if he will be able to satisfy the curiosity of this young ones.

Zuma's compound which was very large and round was surrounded with four big huts and three smaller ones all covered with thatched roofing. The walls of the huts were made from mud from the river Uyi. The compound like every other night was brilliantly lite as most of the children came with their own Agege a bush lamp made by dipping spun wool in palm oil.

Zuma's eyes roam from one child to the other as they continue to talk in whispers and laughing in hushed tones. Zuma soon clears his throat in loudly and the place became very quiet and still. The air suddenly became thick with the children's expectations as they are now used to this now as a sign of another night of the satisfaction of their own curiosity.

"Please Old Zuma tell us the story of the world before ours" Ekondu, a boy of seven shouted from the back. "No, we already heard it the day before, we want a new tale today." "please tell us a new story today Old Zuma ". Makolo spoke loudly beside Old Zuma as if he was speaking to a friend across the road. Makolo is the youngest son of my dear friend Osiris. I never failed to see my dear old friend in the young man and as I often watched him playing with my youngest son, memories of I and his father when we were younger often resurface in me, how time flies, how far gone the days and how age have fallen heavily on me.

"please Old Zuma, tell us the story you promised us yesterday,the story of the boy who was not born" chirped in Ugo, a girl of nine seated between two other girls with her little brother in between her legs. "yes" came a roar of response from other throats in the compound.

Zuma smiling asked them to be quiet as he is about to begin his story.

"Today, I will tell you of the legend of the Lima, the boy who was not born and who never died and of his journeys and adventures" Old Zuma spoke in a loud deep voice dripping with honey and watched as his voice was been taken in by the children surrounding him even as they moved their chair closer to him and at the same time straining their neck in his direction.
"In a long time ago before this village was and before the great war, In a far away land lived a man called... To be cont.