"Why Papa?" Jide asked, "why are men so cruel and attack with insult things they don't understand?"

Maduka stroked his ears and smelled his first finger before returning to his stool. Jide thought he was going to lick the finger, like some of the elders in the village. But instead, his father washed his hands and returned to sharpening his machete.

The lines on his face were deepened, adding more wrinkles to his aging features. Two years ago, his face was as straight as the white stones which he uses to sharpen his swords. Two years ago, he was the best warrior in Umudike and had fought with valor to return the lost glory of the kingdom. Two years ago.

Jide shook his head with pity. His father was a man of honor, a brave soldier that put down anything that stood in his way. But now, everything had changed. His life and his position. Everything. His glory days were now reduced to lullabies as if they were some epitaph meant for the ears of the dead alone.

"It's a human thing, my so
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