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Title: LETTER FROM THE GRAVE

by poetenoch | in writing, fiction, short stories

It was raining heavily like it ought to be in weather like this. The sun seems to have lain with the rain; for they executed their duties simultaneously. Stephen was clothed and set for his exams. It was not strange to him to write exams. But the strange thing is that this exam is unlike the others he wrote while in Secondary School. What a splendid and intelligent young adult. An intellectual giant and also a lover of knowledge; so was Stephen. Times when he proved himself, his father would say,
"That's my son you know?"
Stephen walked down the path to the busy street to get a taxi to his school for his final examination into the prestigious "University of Yoruba" (U.Y). As he sat gently in the taxi, he thought of his humble and God-fearing background. He remembered times when his father would whisper words of wisdom into his ears. He remembered that he’s being the only child amongst his friends that had never been said to be beaten by his parent. He knew his worth. He, Stephen was sure that he's got a very bright future. Like a wimp, he saw the picture of an unknown African man, in the guise of a "struggle movement" speaking for justice and the masses.
That pretty caught his attention. And it was then it came to his remembrance that, he, himself is a lover of Rights. He believed in his rights and he hopes to stand against the forces of oppression against himself and his people.
Stephen never knew what the future had in stock for him. And so Stephen arrived at the school gate; he at once made way for the examination venue.
Boys of his age and more; girls of his caliber and higher social status were all in concurrence with a much tensed ambiance to write their final and most important examination into institution of higher education.
Just like the way Stephen's father would have praised his son, Stephen sat with poise without any form of terrorization of the exam. One of the high shouldered ladies, whom out of nervousness of the examination, came to sit beside Stephen: she really looked worn-out and unseen of such a so called "big-girl." Out of bafflement that was bestowed on the girl by the exam fever, she asked Stephen, if he had finished reading or maybe he was tired of reading or if he had yielded to fate?
Stephen, being a natural gentle man of words, smiled and remained taciturn until some minutes after before he spoke. He said,
"I am also anxious. But I am actually kind of ready and prepared with whichever type of valid answer to the questions."
The girl continued to gaze at Stephen for minutes. She stopped the stare, when she heard the invigilator's tone. She instantaneously made way for her seat. Stephen was looking calm. But his heart was running up and down like the ocean he had always prayed to see. He quickly said few words of prayers to God. He believed in God. He was a man of the African culture. He never had a belief in the Western culture. Although he is sure that the western education is quite credible to human existence. Especially in Africa: and due to his AFRICAN BELIEFS, he refused to even harmonize with some ethics of his secondary school. He, instead of putting on a pair of shoes, would put sandals, with a bongo-type of trousers and a big collar shirt.
Stephen differentiated himself from others. At first, his teachers thought him to be a mutinous and impished type of student. But at long run, they found out that, their notions were radically wrong from what Stephen showed to be. He won so many debates and writing competitions for his school; he participated in National programmes; he was either sponsored by the school or by his parents. He proved what he stood for and what he preached about. He was fundamental! He was out of the ordinary! He was a liberty courier!
So he was given his exam papers. He was sure to have written well and after the exams, he had no precognition of fear and downer. He was a man of faith! Maybe, this quality was meant to make his life stupendous! He trekked home smiling and happy.

User rating

3.75 out of 5

It talks about the essence of difference between love and infatuation; it roots also into what the journey of an African son may look like in the developed countries.

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