TIME rolled like wheels as seasons passed. A few plantings and harvests went by, as with each harvest Moro thrived in the land. His crops turned out huge proceeds.
Even then, the stout young one had only got enough to spend on him and his kid brothers. As he paid large tributes to the man he promised to make wealthy.
Still Moro wasn’t so disheartened by this. Rather the young man felt quite grateful that he’d got a farm to call his. And that he wasn’t someone’s slave.
Now land and freedom weren’t the only things that Moro owned. As he’d also found the love of people.
For he led a quiet life, earning and spending so noiselessly.
Yes, the village seemed quite impressed by him, so much they called him mature. And so everyone honoured the good man who was no enemy to anyone.
Even so, Moro had a different destination in mind. He wanted more from life...
He wanted a home that was no building nor place. He wanted a woman to call his.
He wanted to build family.
So, he looked around with this in mind. But he didn’t find wife among the young village women.
Now it wasn’t that their beautiful maidens hadn’t captured the man’s heart. But Moro desired more than a woman.
He wanted to belong. To own roots in the main town of Ede Land. He loved to settle there.
He thought one day...
Marriage can simply make a woman belong to a people. But it doesn’t work this way for men.
A man is home for his wife and children. So who will marry someone with no roots like me?
Yes, this was Moro’s dilemma and misery. For how could he become citizen of a foreign land, when he was living life lost in their farms?
Thus he shelved the idea of marriage. And he thought to work harder on farm.
Comments
Post a Comment