Kòkòrò short story

It was the same serene setting, just at the break of dawn, the weather slightly cold and relaxing, just perfect for the outfit Femi was putting on. He, Femi is a young man who experienced various backgrounds in his course of growing up. He was one of the very few people I met who was insensitive to one of the major issues facing our dear country, Nigeria. The issue of tribalism had been one of the major reasons Nigeria remains underdeveloped and far behind time, in the world at large. But this wasn’t a thing in the case of Femi, a young man whose background and upbringing is diverse enough to fit in any place and at the same time never fully accepted. Femi’s nurture had a very great impact on his life as a whole, and at the same time became a reason for him to never belong. He was one of the very few people I knew who could speak the three major languages in Nigeria fluently. He could speak Hausa,Igbo and Yoruba and many other languages effortlessly. It was due to the same displacement, underdevelopment and insecurity that kept Femi’s family to never stay for long in any place. They kept on moving from the North to the East to West, just to call a place home, but they never found one. Despite all these traumatic experiences he faced, he was insensitive to discrimination and tribalism and strictly believed we were supposed to live as one without dividing one another. He believed all these discriminatory practices would soon come to an end. And there was me, Danladi. A Hausa man to the core, but I never understood my tongue. I grew up in the west, with looks from the north. I spoke Yoruba fluently but not my native language. It was a thing of shame at a point but life was evolving, and it was quite obvious that all these discrimination would soon become a thing of the past. There was One thing that always stood out. Femi and I had something in common, it was our passion for writing, a belief that unity is attainable through words and our love for all tongues.