He comes when life is sweetest and strikes. This blow comes in various forms and is struck at random, shrouding the identity of the next victim. He captures the soul and traps it. The body’s now as useless as a mannequin.
That was the case with Nwanyieke. She was as lively as lively as fire last night, when she told us stories of our past heroes who are pushing up the daises — how so much has changed and the uncertainty of redemption.
It was Onyiuke’s cry that roused us up to the reality of our matriarch’s journey of no return.