The deeply rooted camwood; the bamboo made swing; different shades of leaves – fresh green, yellow, and brown fluttered around the double pair of foot prints sculptured into the earthen soil, all echoed the story and memories that once sealed two souls together.

Like the deeply rooted camwood, Adamma’s love for Mad Ibiye was deeply rooted in the arteries of her heart. Her love for him was not just blind but had also lost its ability to smell or hear. She now relied on his senses. For her, the supposedly mad Ibiye was her perfect man. She looked not at his bushy beards that had begun to house little insects like wasps and lice and considered not the stench smell of rot that oozed out of his body. He was her Mr. Perfect – perfect look, perfect smell.

On the carefully entrenched bamboo that swung from north to south and east to west, Adamma would sit on the bamboo and allow Mad Ibiye hold her waist and swing her slowly, slowly like a lightly tossed pendulum and quickly, quickly like a forcefully ejected roller coaster. During these moments, her smile was the broadest but his was the source of her smile. Her worries vanished and her soul merried in the wind that swirled around her. For her, Mad Ibiye’s presence brought effervescence and glee with it.

Even as they continued to merry, the camwood never ceased to rain love on them. Symbolically, as some of the leaves dried up on the floor, new ones fluttered in innumerable numbers.
“This love is unending”, Mad Ibiye whispered into the ears of Adamma as he held her head to his chest. This re-assuring statement was the oxygen Adamma now breathed. Just as nature is classic and never dying, so is her love life and her happiness going to be.

“This story of our love must be told forever”, she clamored as she went ahead running and stamping her feet on the sand of time and beckoned on Mad Ibiye to join her in her love chase.

Strategically, both lovers sculptured their feet into the sand of time and also imbibed meaning and symbols into every natural element that graced the ambiance of their love adventure – the deeply rooted camwood; the bamboo made swing; the leaves that fell off the camwood and their footprints.

Share this:

Like Love Haha Wow Sad Angry
Did you enjoy this story? Then pay a tip:

Tip author

What do you think?

Join The Tell! Community

Read, and write on Africa's most creative community for writers, thinkers and storytellers

Get Started 

%d bloggers like this: