BURNING PASSION

The battery of his PlayStation portable blinked red. And before he could make ‘Lui-Kang’ perform his finishing moves, it went off. Like he was told his life had been cut short one, David wore a frown and wasn't ready to let it go anytime soon. Oh! The power technology has on a kid, a kid who couldn't do without power to play.

Ludo, snake and ladder, monopoly, tinko-tinko, ten-ten, monkey post, and even suwe, all packed up inside a forgotten fun-box, labelled ‘Old School.’ All thanks to the colored man, who placed in our hands ‘smart’ devices, which left us dumb and blind to our heritage.

The feeble tale his granny pumped into his ears, every night, was one of the reasons David hated the village, while the epileptic power supply was the chief reason. She groped her way out of the parlor to the corridor to feel the quiet, abiding air of earned grace. David’s granny, half-blind, was very sensitive to sound and more to smell. Like a pregnant woman, she undoubtedly perceived David’s cologne even as he sat meters away. She called out to him, quickly, before he could consider leaving the environment for a hideout, his bed, preferably, to fake a sleep. He got busted. David carried his behind from where it was to the mat, sitting before his granny.

I wouldn't take much of your time dear, the story goes thus:

In 1890, the mango tree behind this building was grown by a little boy, who happened to be the richest man in the village three years after the tree produced fruits. He never grew the tree for income, but for the beauty and benefits of his environs. Nobody thought likewise as many folks mocked his vision, wetting the sprout with their urine. He loved his tree like a mother to her infant, so he fenced the sprout with large bamboo, envisioning its size to allocate well enough space for growth. No more room for intruders, his tree was locked away and protected.

He nurtured it daily and before a blink of an eye, the tree grew. It grew so big that its golden leaves, robust stem, and the shade it provided couldn't be neglected by any person with two functioning eyes. Everyone salivated for its fruits as it was big and soft. The little boy began selling its fruits, even to neighboring villages. He became extremely wealthy.

Thus ends the story.

Almost immediately, the environment became illuminated, power supply was restored. She lifted herself up and was ready to go in to sleep.

David cleared his throat, then criticized. “Mama, you said the tree behind this house, which tree?”

“That’s why it’s a story.” She defended. “Now, you can go and play your game or go to bed.”

“Game? Sleep? After all you have said about the little man?”

“What are you up to?” She inched to the door.

“I wanna go plant my own tree.”