CHAPTER SEVEN
It was evening and Ebube was in the savannah again; only this time a tempest was blowing against him. He fought against the gale and screamed the names of those he could remember. He fell to the ground, rolled and grabbed the grass to gain balance. But as he attempted to stand, he was blown backwards.
He woke up and squinted in the dark room. The dream was becoming frequent and it always seemed so real. He knew it meant something but did not know what, and he was reluctant to talk about it to Azuka; he was reluctant to bother the old man with his problems.
Just before bedtime Adaora had walked into his hut, tense. It had to do with Nnaemeka. She was livid because Ebube was treating her as if she were still a child. She was no longer the little girl she used to be, she said
