THE OLD HOUSE; chapter 1

*RELOCATION* Nenye! Nenye! The shouts of my elder sister, Ada, beckoned me to come and take my bath.Through the worn curtains, I heard babies crying during their baths, the sounds of pestles pounding for late-night meals, and children playing in the sand, calling themselves “Power Rangers” with sticks as swords. Shapes were molded from sand, empty cans turned into cakes — a typical night.We lived in a large compound on the edge of the city, a rural area filled with old and unstable buildings. Ours was a single-room squatter space, known as “boys’ quarters,” meant for bachelors but crowded with families. Most had four or more kids squeezed into one room. At the back, the landlord maintained a small vegetable farm. He was stern-looking, with a protruding belly.My parents whispered that he was a voodoo man.As I rushed to answer my sister, knowing I would get a serious beating if I delayed .she grabbed my hand as we got closer, and we walked into our kiosk looking apartment.We had lived in that old house for decades, as Dad usually said, “I have lived here since I got married to your mom.” Countless times, we asked him how he found the place, the people he met when he first moved in, and what life was like back then.Dad who was a patient man, always took his time to tell us stories, and often making fun of the landlord’s pot belly. There were about seventy families, mixed with bachelors and spinsters, living in the compound. I cherished the house because there were always lots of kids to play with.On this bright afternoon, just as I was about to rush out to play with my friends, Mom walked in abruptly — something unlike her.“That’s a quit notice letter,” Mom said.She didn’t move closer immediately. She just stood there, holding the paper like it might burn her fingers.Dad lowered his newspaper slowly, adjusting his glasses before taking it from her. The room went quiet, except for the faint sound of children playing outside.I shifted where I stood, watching his face instead of the paper. His eyes moved from one line to another, but his expression did not change.“Two weeks,” Mom added, her voice smaller now.I didn’t understand the words fully, but I understood the silence that followed them. Something in my chest tightened, though I didn’t know why.Dad shook his head slightly and went back to his newspaper, as if nothing had happened. There was no surprise on his face, no sadness, no anger. It felt like he had been expecting it.“How do we even find a house in two weeks?” Mom asked, her voice unsteady.“God will provide,” Dad replied calmly, without looking up.That night felt different.The compound was still alive with noise. children playing, mothers calling out, pots clanging — but something in our room had gone quiet. Mom barely spoke. Dad read longer than usual.I lay on the mat, staring at the ceiling, listening.Every sound felt sharper, <a class="tc-blue" href="https://louder.Like" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">louder.Like </a> I was trying to remember them without knowing why.The laughter outside,The footsteps in the corridor, Someone arguing in the distance.After a while, I turned to my mother.“Are we going somewhere?” I asked softly.She didn’t answer immediately.Instead, she reached out and pulled me closer to her side, her wrapper warm against my skin. Her hand rested on my head, gently smoothing my hair the way she did when I was sick.“We’ll be fine,” she said at last.Her voice was soft… but it didn’t sound sure.I wanted to ask more questions.Where were we going?Would we come back?But the words stayed in my throat.So I just held onto her wrapper and closed my eyes.Sleep came slowly. ******* Relocation Morning came too quickly.Neighbors stood watching as we bundled our belongings into a large truck. Some whispered, others just stared. Mom moved from one person to another, exchanging tearful farewells, while Dad urged us to hurry.I stood by the truck, watching as our things were thrown in without care.One of my dolls slipped from the pile, her head hitting the ground before someone picked her up and tossed her inside.I took a step forward… then stopped.Nobody else seemed to notice.The house stood behind me, quiet now. No voices, no laughter — just walls that suddenly didn’t belong to us anymore.My chest felt tight, like something was pressing against it from the inside.I didn’t say goodbye.I just stood there… and knew I wouldn’t see any of it again.

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