Sapience Episode 1

 Zulema sat at the verandah of the cream painted bungalow, sitting carefully on the old creaking wooden chair Papa had kept as he liked to think he had a reception in the verandah. She smiled as she thought of Papa, running her finger along the rusty rails of the verandah.
>         She smiled and breathed deeply, filling herself with the fresh scent of the early morning after a heavy rain the previous night. She inhaled the sharp scent of the mud around, she loved that scent of rain on the earth, she smiled again, grateful for the beautiful things of the austere life. Beautiful austerity, Zoya would tell her that was a paradox and that she was talking paradoxically, Zulema shrugged "Oh well".
> Oh but the village life was typically austere and also not austere at all with its own intrinsic beauty.
>         Just then, Zoya approached, the slap slap slap of her rubber slippers distracting Zulema from her thoughts. Zoya, her twin sister, Zulema thought the only things they had in common were the first letters of their names and otherwise they were as oil and water. Though, their Mum thought as twinsthey were as alike as they could be  save for the fact that they were non-identical twins.
> Zoya amazed Zulema in many ways, one way was the way in which she walked. Zoya was big in stature and very plump and yet she walked so smartly with brisk definite steps.
>           " Morning Lema" Zoya said in a clear voice despite the fact that it was very early in the morning.
> Zoya walked past Zulema in her controlled marchlike steps, carrying the cool morning wind along; the scent of the rained-on earth hot Zulema's nostrils again and she inhaled deeply, satisfied. Then, she yawned.
>          She stood and retied her Ankara wrapper, checking her wristwatch. She had waiting for 15 full minutes for Papa. He was the one who told her to meet him at the verandah that morning for a discussion. She sat again, cautiously, yawning again and slipping into a fresh reverie.
> Two minutes passed and Zulema heard the steps of her maternal grandfather as he approached
>       " Nne. Kedu? Iboolachi?" He said greeting her in Igbo, his local language when he reached the verandah and saw her.
> " Papa Jokwa. Ndewo." She rose to greet him.
> " Nne, hope you haven't waited too long? Ndo. I had to settle a matter with the Father."
> " No wonder you are glowing this morning. Papa, your beautiful skin never ceases to amaze me. See, so beautiful and looking so fresh even at your age" Zulema said running her finger lightly on his left hand.
> " It is a gift of the Father and the wholesome shea butter treatment the skin receives eveyday. Better than all those expensive packaged lotions maunfactured in some overseas lab. Shea butter, straight from heaven's garden." Papa said smiling, with his eyes shining through the dark. He looked at Zulema and smiled. He called her Nne, meaning mother because he was convinced she resembled his mother;her hair black , light and soft like his mothers'. As for Zoya, he thought she resembled her own father more, her hair black and thick. He used to boast to anyone who cared to listen that having Zulema and Zoya as granddaughters was having the best of both worlds, the most complete combination of characters. That boast changed when he met JESUS CHRIST, he then told anyone whether they cared to listen or not that having and knowing JESUS was the best of this life on earth and the life to come hereafter, in heaven.
> " Papa, you said you wanted to share some things with me early this morning" Zulema said
> "Yes Emi, I normally spend some time out here each early morning, meditating and reasoning. I noticed your keen interest and thirst for wisdom even as we talked yesterday and I decided you could join me today." Each time Papa didn't call her Nne, he called her Emi which was a different name entirely but to him, could be used as a short form of Zulema. Papa read far and wide and knew of many names, their meanings and origins.
> " Thank GOD. Thank you Papa. I am ready to learn " Zulema smiled.
> " Have you ever wondered why I insist you visit every mid year?"
> " Yes Papa" Happiness dancing in her eyes
> " That started some years ago. I was at your parents' house in Lagos when I asked you to get me water to drink. I spoke in Igbo. I was shocked when you stood staring at me. You didn't understand the simple Igbo I had spoken. You were just 8 years then but I expected your mother would have started some native training. I called her and told her that it was not good that my beautiful growing granddaughters knew very little of their native background. I then told her that from that year, you had to come here to be with me in the village every mid-year." Papa said and paused.
> Zulema chuckled.
> He continued, " I knew you girls were used to spending your hoildays overseas or in the very developed parts of the country but I told her that you girls had to come to here first even if it was for a week or two and then you could go to wherever, Paris or Chicago."
> Zulema chuckled even more.
> " Since then I have watched you grow over the years, monitoring your growth and taking care to train you the best way, teaching you wisdom. Seeing you girls is one of the reasons I am particularly very happy to come visiting in Lagos. "
> Papa said and stopped, he looked like he was deep in thought. He was a very learned man. He used to be a lecturer for many years, becoming a professor in the sciences. It was after he retired, he insisted on relocating to the village. He was a strong Christian, passionate compatriot, a thorough African. During his years as a lecturer, he made sure he put in place a very comfortable house according to his very taste for his life after paid employment. He now owned farmlands and plantations with seasoned managers put in place, he also onwed a garden in his compound which he personally catered for.
>           Papa cleared his throat and looked intently at Zulema, he smiled and began


BY CHIMA KELECHI