the greedy boy

in the small town of Ajanaku, where red dust clung to sandals and the sun always seemed to be watching ,there lived a boy named kola.He was not born greedy .No child ever truly is.kola came into the world like everyone else crying The Greedy BoyChapter One: The Hunger That Had No NameIn the small town of Ajanaku, where red dust clung to sandals and the sun always seemed to be watching, there lived a boy named Kola. He was not born greedy. No child ever truly is. Kola came into the world like everyone else—crying, curious, and empty-handed. But somewhere between his first steps and his fifteenth birthday, a hunger grew inside him, a hunger that had no name and no end.Ajanaku was not rich, but it was not poor either. People farmed cassava and maize, traders sold palm oil and smoked fish, and on market days laughter mixed with bargaining shouts. Kola’s father, Baba Kola, was a carpenter whose hands were always rough with sawdust. His mother, Mama Kola, sold vegetables by the roadside, waking before dawn to arrange tomatoes and peppers in careful pyramids. They did not have much, but they had enough—enough food, enough love, enough peace.As a child, Kola shared easily. He shared his food with friends, his toys with neighbors, and his smiles with anyone who looked his way. But life has a way of testing people, especially the young. When Kola was eight, a flood came after weeks of relentless rain. It swallowed farms, destroyed homes, and stole away the little savings many families had hidden under mattresses or in clay pots.The flood did not spare Kola’s family. Baba Kola’s workshop collapsed, his tools washed away like they were nothing. Mama Kola’s vegetable stand disappeared overnight. For the first time, Kola saw fear in his parents’ eyes—not loud fear, but quiet, heavy fear that sat in the corners of the room and refused