Five Decades of Solitude
One Cold Night for a hermit.
The night was a cold dark one. The harmattan winds blew hard, parting leaves and branches of trees. Frogs breeding in the meshy stream croaked in songs. Ede was seated on a log of wood warming himself by the fireside. He poked in some faggots and used a hand fan to start a flame. He was a haggard-looking man, about eighty-two years old and wore an old grey-brown winter coat. His bleached matted locks and beards that were once soft-textured hairs had never felt a comb or a blade for the past five decades. Myriad furrows ran horizontally across his thin forehead. Weary, sunken-eye, slim and wrinkled skin man, Ede was full of vigour. 
Where this Hermit lived.
Ede had lived all alone for five precise decades in this forest which was once an open land with hardly any tree. A dilapidated block made of red mud formed his house. It occupied only a room and a pit-latrine. In the room was an old blue mat constantly spread on the floor, worn-out black blanket with red strips placed on its rear. Cobweb formed canopies at the corners of the room in a descending manner. Ede was too a busy man tending to nature than his personal comfort.
Fireside reflection.
When the flame died down, hot attractive embers glowing like infra-red rays were the only thing left to generate heat for the now fragile old man. He assumed his usual posture—hands on cheeks, elbows on laps and head bowed. His eyes were then focused on the red embers in absolute reflection about life. This had been his habit every night for all these years. He has no future.
He was only a product of the past and a machine of the present. If he were to choose between beliefs, he had two to anchor his trust. These are Ivy and nature. Ivy was the only woman besides his daughter he had loved dearly. It was for her sake he was living this kind of reclusive life looked upon by his people of Utonkon with disdain and horror.
Nature, his ally.
Nature on the other hand had been a friend and teacher deserving his unalloyed loyalty. The stridulations of cicada and roaming crickets filtered through the aura of silence. Ede’s eyes remained fixed and body still like a statue. By the time he moved, the first cock-crow had aroused him from reflection. He got his walking stick and made his exit. Without shutting his termite-ridden door, he slept away soundly.
The strange dream.
During the night, Ede woke up. He could hear his heart beat against his left side. He had a dream. His beloved Ivy who died five decades ago had beckoned on him:
”It’s time you join me”, she told him in a smile. She was still young, beautiful and with sparkling teeth. He adjusted himself, turning left lateral and backing the cracking fire constantly being lit in the room. He felt tears dribbling down his cheeks, the effect of a reminder of a love he had missed so much for all these decades.
“Yes. I think it is time”, he spoke to himself repeatedly. He could never know if loving Ivy even after death was strength or a weakness. To love one truly was an illness he never wished any one catches.
His love story.
He remembered fifty-eight years ago, at 24 when Ivy came into his life. She was the first lady he ever loved and the last in this life time. Within the eight years of trusted friendship which Ivy sealed with three children, he saw the body of evidence for his disregard of another love life.
Though Ivy died during her third childbirth, Ede would not forget the blatant refusal of his parents and hers to bless their wedlock due to an old hatred that accrued from generational wars between Utonkon and Akpa, Ivy’s village. That hatred grew immense at Ivy’s death when her corpse was disowned by her own parents. He had to burry her in an open land which he purchased for the purpose, what was now the economically viable garden that so many envied in secret.
From the resources of the Garden, his three children who now have their own families, were trained in various schools. One of the regrets he has, however, is that his two sons Edward and Kingsley were worthless and non-appreciative of his paternal love and support he had lavished on them as kids and young adults.
Edward delved into politics, became bankrupt and threatened to sell off the Garden. Kingsley sold off his personal effects to meet his drug demands. He was a heroine addict and had a broken home.
It could be a warning from a dream.
The sudden reappearance of Ivy in dream was an omen that his end perhaps was near. His memory was still very green, for in the years gone by, the first eight years of her death, she appeared to him in dreams every night and everywhere; even while tilling the soil and planting the first economic trees that made up his garden. There was an occasion when she taught him how to knot and pin their infant daughter’s napkin.
As an educated person, he had always dismissed stories of apparitions as ridiculous but the countless visitations of his dead wife for personal discussions and problem solving had made him a changed person ready to offer a plausible rationale behind such phenomenal events.
The villagers' perception of him.
Ede sat up, got a fan and began to feed air onto the smoky logs to activate them. With the front of his coat wet with tears, he inwardly admitted being a human with vulnerability. The villagers often thought of him as weird and evil. A man who lived all alone in a strange garden filled with reptiles and wild animals must be extra-ordinary.
Once in a while during his rare strolls into the village’s hustling centre, pedestrians avoided him and children jeered at him. Most times market women refused selling him red oil, kerosene and matches .Only those who go to him for vegetables, eggs, birds, fruits and fish which he sold out of his garden at cheaper prices would collect his money and help him buy what he needed. Ede understood his own people‘s reaction and would never speak even when they called him a “cursed one”
The aves stirred in their nests. Snakes hissed from their cribs. The streams gurgled. Fishes brandished tails against the serene waters and leaves rattled, but it was far from being dawn. All seemed to be responding to their master’s outburst of emotions. The bond of affection existing between them was great.
His own perception.
Ede knows he would not live forever in that frail body tormented by the burden of love. However, the animals sensed that in the event of Ede’s death, their new master after him might not be as caring as Ede.
Juno, his dog stared at him. She wagged her senile tail briskly, went over him and rubbed her flurry fur against his left trunk. Then she licked his fingers with her pale warm tongue. Ede understood this non-verbal consolation from a trusted friend of almost fourteen years. He lay down again. It took a while for him to sleep again.
The beautiful morning.
When the morning came, Ede walked bare-footed to Ivy’s tomb for the usual morning greeting. This area was his most sacred spot where he contemplated the works of nature and derived inspiration. The tomb site was beautified with about two thousand species of flowers. The air there is a scented blend of exotic perfumes emanating in torrents intermittently.
“Good morning, love”, Ede said on to the tomb. He paused as if anticipating Ivy’s response and then continued, “Thanks for the visit last night. I will look into your request”, Juno was by his left side watching. Any where her master goes she was there. Sighting a group of variegated butterflies, she chased after them leaping into the air with kicks and mouth ajar.
The usual morning tour before work was exciting. Ede would shout greetings at intervals to his creatures. They responded with unique sounds and movements .For the aves, they came flapping their wings and alighted on his limbs and head. Hornbills, woodpeckers, paradise birds, doves, pheasants and other bigger birds would gather at his feet. With a swing of the hands, broadcasted grains formed a feast for the jolly birds.
Ede would continue his rounds, brushing off pellets of feces which the birds have pasted on him as morning gift. In front of a pond he had named Flavour, Ede would squat and wash his tobacco stained teeth with the forefinger. A breakfast of carica-papaya, tangerine and black berries was then indulged in. Juno has got familiar with the raw veggies and fruits. She loved the yellow and succulent carica-papaya the most.
The ugly incidence and animal friends to his rescue.
The work that morning was the trimming of some overgrown trees and flowers. Ede used shears on the flowers and a cutlass on the tree branches. The sun had sailed to the mid-sky. He had worked for six hours. Even at such an age, he was full of stamina, straight back and good eyesight. However, he now walked with retarding strides. He felt some dizziness which he attributed to his non-stop mode of work.
Ede decided to take a break at Ivy’s tomb. He had hardly walked half-way when a sharp pain seized the left side of his chest. He grasped at it but felt an increasing pressure on his lungs. He fell over. Juno kicked at him but he remained motionless. She race out towards the entrance and into the village center. A rhesus monkey which Ede had fed with banana that morning jumped down from a mango tree and surveyed him. It could be seen that she was nervous. She tried to figure out what to do. Climbing a coconut tree, she plucked a fruit and began to work on it against a rough stone in attempt to peel off its skin. When she was successful, the coconut fruit skin was used as an improvised dish to fetch water from the nearest pond and dashed on his master’s face. Soon she was crying for help. Other monkeys formed a circle around Ede fanning him with banana leaves.
Juno, the faithful dog.
Juno had galloped through a narrow sandy path. At the market square, the buyer and sellers turned towards her. They couldn’t tell if something was chasing her or she was chasing something. She ran for over ten minutes before sighting Ada’s house and only hope she meets Ada at home. Ada would be the only one who could help. She had been a long acquaintance. Her master must not die. When she got there, Ada almost stopped breathing from fear at the sudden intrusion of her favourite pet that she had not seen for the past few days.
An adopted daughter.
Ada was like a daughter to Ede, having been adopted by him when she lost her parents at four years of age. Ever since, Ede has taken care of her education and supported her in every means. There was however, a prohibition---she was never to live in the hermit way of her adopted Father who served as a mother as well.
Ada has never seen a man where the feminine traits of a mother and masculine persona of a Father were so blended as was seen in Ede. She suspended her cooking immediately when she noticed that Juno was crying loudly and unceasingly, pacing to and fro the entrance and making a series of circles about her. Putting down her sooty pot from the tripod and without caring about her looks, she hurried together with Juno to see Ede.
A touch of solace.
Ede felt a human touch. He slowly opened his eyes, saw Ada weeping and offering him a helping hand. He felt so weak and could not move his right leg. A dull headache was persistent and he found himself slurring out words. The monkeys dispersed in obeisance and watched the scenario from treetops. Juno sat on her hind legs keeping close pace to her master, her ears were well conditioned for the slight sound of impending danger.
Ada was receptive to the fact that the security of the Garden was now her onus. She supported Ede diligently onto the bed in his room. Hands akimbo, she tried to sort out the right decision, unsure if her adopted Father would accept hospitalization as he was always an advocate of natural remedies. She thought that with several episodes of recurrent stroke, it was time he changed his decision and visit the orthodox clinic. She opinioned her thoughts but Ede asked for more time. Ada knew he did not want to object at once. His countenance denoted an eagerness for a feminine care.
“I am not staying away from you this time, Father. I don’t want to lose you too soon. I need to take care of you.” she told him. Ede smiled and responded: “No average man would marry a weird reclusive woman. Here is no India. People are scared of the unknown. Don’t give up your happiness for me. I am already worn-out with little to time to spend on earth.”
“Let me care one more time, Father”, Ada responded with empathic look. Such an old and unrecognized man has been the kindest thing in her once hopeless life. The people called him the cursed fugitive but for her, he would always be an epitome of inspiration and a mentor to look up to.
To live for over fifty years loving a dead wife with the strictest attachment and devotion when a thousand of belles brim the street was to her the greatest love a man can demonstrate. She put some water to boil. He needed a warm bath, she reasoned.
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