Echoes On The Page

The drought had lasted seven years. Rivers became scars on the land, and fields turned to dust. The Kingdom of Elvor, once lush and teeming with life, now choked under the weight of famine . The Temple of the Crown blamed the heretics, those who worshiped the One God, unseen and untouchable, who refused to bow to the idol of flame erected in the city square. It was in this time of scarcity that a man named Soran rose to prominence. Once a soldier, now an enforcer of the Temple's will, Soran hunted the heretics with zeal unmatched, believing their defiance had cursed the land. He called them "Ashkeepers," a cruel joke about the fire they feared and the ashes they left behind. Three young men were caught outside the city walls, preaching hope in the One God. They were dragged before the High Priest and sentenced to burn in the Furnace of Judgment. As flames rose high, the crowd chanted, and Soran watched with grim satisfaction. But they did not burn. Inside the furnace, th...

  Zina reclined on a soft wicker chaise, the silk of her robe fluttering slightly in the warm Lagos breeze. The expansive terrace of her Lekki mansion overlooked the ocean, its waves crashing gently in the distance. The scent of hibiscus and jasmine filled the air. It was a serene evening the kind she always reserved for reflection. Her 10-year-old daughter, Ada, sat beside her, her iPad on her lap, but her eyes filled with curiosity. "Mama, why don’t we talk about Grandpa Jide much? The only picture of him is that black-and-white one in your study. You never tell me stories about him like you do about Grandma Ifeoma." Zina placed her glass of zobo on the side table and turned to her daughter. "Because some stories, my Ada, carry pain so deep, it takes years to find the right words. But you’re old enough now. And you need to know why our family is the way it is why we live the way we do." She took a breath and began. "Your grandfather, Jide, was not a ric...

                           In the dense wilderness between Zorah and Bethlehem, destiny brought two men together under the roar of wild beasts. Simon judge of Israel, feared for his unmatched strength was chasing a Philistine scout when the echo of a lion’s growl diverted him. In a clearing, he saw a young shepherd boy fending off a massive lion with nothing but a staff and sling. Without hesitation, Simon joined the fight. Together, they took down not one, but two lions that day. Thus began a bond between Simon and the boy Dave. Simon, strong yet reckless, led Israel in war. Dave, young but wise, worshipped in song and silence. But while men cheered for Simon, God looked deeper . The judge’s heart had wandered too far his lust, his pride, his disregard for God's laws. The Lord was grieved. So, in secret, God chose another. Through the prophet Enoch, Dave was anointed king , though the crown would come later. Dave and...

The road was dry and treacherous, winding through the hills. By the roadside, a young man, son of Mr. Manasseh, a well-known tycoon, lay unconscious, robbed of everything he carried. His rich garments were torn, his dignity stripped. Many passed him by. A priest, head high, crossed to the other side. A merchant hesitated but thought better of it; after all, what good could come from getting involved? Even those who knew his father turned their faces away. At the hottest hour of the day, a man of wealth and standing rode past in his grand carriage. His robes were fine, his servants loyal. Joseph, for that was his name, was not just any man; he was a Samaritan landowner with flourishing vineyards and a house bustling with servants. When Joseph saw the boy lying helpless, his heart was stirred. Without caring for the dust that would stain his cloak or the danger of thieves still lurking, he stepped down from his carriage. He knelt beside the boy, spoke gently to him, and order...

                                                 Before the Fall: Chidinma’s Story The morning mist still clung to the earth as Chidinma balanced her clay pot on her head and walked the familiar path to the stream. The hush of dawn, broken only by the chirping of birds and the rhythmic chatter of her cousins, felt sacred until the bicycle came crashing through the silence. It was him again.