Her face was clothed with shyness as she smiled and looked away. Emeka saw from her eyes that she was still unused to the flattery words of men. The kind Chukwudi will call ‘tamed bird’, the kind that never challenges you with their eyes or question the sweet flowery words of your mouth.
“Ihuoma,” She said, “my name is Ihuoma.” Her smile the sweet tender bud blooming before the rising sun. It revealed a white dentition that adorned her face like the colourful Uli prints on her wrapper.
“I like the sound of your name,” Emeka said, gently caressing the inner part of her palm as he spoke, “but I like your smile more. It makes you even more beautiful.”
She smiled again, this time unable to help the few silly giggles that escaped her throat, vibrating her cleavage with tiny quivery lines while she laughed, luring his attention to her nicely shaped breasts that had the size of two oversized oranges upon her chest.
Emeka watched her draw more lines on the ground with her feet. She had beautiful straight legs, legs void of even the tiniest scar. Her light skin glowing lighter in tone as the golden rays of the setting sun fell upon them.
The stylish way she made a mini wrap skirt by tying a wrapper around her waist, making a knot next to her left hip, creating an extra layer of cloth on her side with the bottom edge sloping upwards above her knee, revealing sensitive part of her upper leg that stirred some stilled emotions in him.
“I will be leaving now; I am expected to be back before the roosters retire for the night. I don’t want my mother sending my brothers in search for me again, she worries a lot.” Ihuoma said. Gradually slipping her hand from his
“When shall I see your pretty face again?” Emeka asked, hurt to know that they were to depart in their separate ways. Who wouldn’t be worried over a maiden as lovely as this, he thought.
For a brief moment, he had pictured her in his future, pictured his mother dancing around in ecstasy to the tune of omugwo, while his father would sit in his obi, his face beaming with happiness and fulfilment at the sound of being called ‘Papa-nnukwu’.
“We can meet here tomorrow, same time as today before the sun begins its journey to Chiolu.” She said before waving goodbye.
Emeka felt the cold stings of pain as the evening breeze touch his skin. The excessive yearning to be with her brought mist upon his eyes as she left.
Turning to smile at him multiple times, the swaying rhythm of her waist made him fall in love with her departure. She walked as graceful as a cat, the bump that formed her backside
narrowing into her waist region, exhibiting hips which tilted inside to create a curve.
He imagined her dancing the ‘Nkwa Umu-Agbogho dance’. The maiden dance that makes him fall in love with every dancer in his village. He imagined her waist, adorned by a thousand coral bead, shaking vigorously at the sound of local instruments.
She turned and began walking backwards, smiling sheepishly at him as he stared at her. Her flat stomach bulging in and out. He stared, memorising every delicate slender spot of her body.
He woke up, enveloped by the night’s darkness, soaked by his own sweat with his erection thrusting hard against his loin-cloth; he laid back on his wooden bed made of bamboo and cuddled himself back to sleep.
© Chisom Igwurube