About The Man Who Never Died

Chapter Eight

Great men knew when it was their time. In Ezocha's case, there was something really special about him. He had lived his life to the fullest and had no record of regrets whatsoever. Also, there were no regrets as to his life’s journey.

As he climbed the hill and was enjoying the topographic view, a stray of sunshine appeared at the down part of the hill. He had ridden his horse for quite a long distance before he got to the mountain, he walked down to it and found a little stone buried naturally in the ground. His eyes had been drawn to it in the distance, thick grasses waved around the environs where the stone was. He looked fulfilled, and with the eyes that appeared like an eagle peering into the future, he said, “it is not enough that we came into this world, we must define ourselves... And this is that moment.” His grandchildren stood watching. He mounted the stone in the valley, stuck his walking stick to it and through the smoke that was generated from the fire he had made, he disappeared, never to be seen again. Immediately he disappeared, his loincloth dropped on the stony ground, and Opu, Iyida's brother, was clever enough to grab it. The loincloth became his inheritance which he and his generation would cherish so much for life. Ikenna, another of his right hand servants who followed him, alongside his grandsons, bowed their heads in awe and watched the flames dance for what seemed an eternity. His thoughts drifted away, images of Ezocha’s escapades floating through his mind. This was never heard of! “Will Nnaanyi ever come back again?” Opu and Iyida asked.

“He has made a transition to the world of the immortals," Ikenna said. And then pointing to the stone he said, “this stone bears us witness that he didn't die.” Although he didn't know what he meant by that, he was glad he said it. He believed it.

Where Ezocha went to, nobody could say, but the evidence of his disappearance was engraved on that little stone in the hillside of Elugwu-Ezike. That was the account of the man, the story about the man who never died. In that engraved stone, with its ancient landmarks, reflected prosperity for his people in time to come if and only if the stone would not be broken.

THE BROKEN STONE

The broken stone

Is the ancient landmarks

That the forefathers saw but not beheld

Not to be a spirit of worship

But to save our foreign trips

Oh! A wonder to behold

The broken stone

In time of tomorrow will bleed a tears

Change is constant

We must adapt to grow

The walk of a chameleon

Is the bane of the centuries life.

The broken stone

With his ancient footprints

Ezocha

Reflects prosperity and wealth.

Alas!

Myopia nibbed it.

Sahara arise, project the pyramid.