years now, kunle intended reminding segun.
After a while kunle convinced him that they
had to go back home once their seven years
was up.
After a while, segun would pack some of his
very good precious clothes wrap some money
within and bind them tightly.
This let him ti knock pieces of cotton wool
together to make boxers.
“i shall pack away all i can when it is time to
move”
He promised.
Kunle did not pack his things rather he was
just giving to the poor while segun continued
to pack all he could.
.
.
.
Then early the next morning, segun rushed to
wake kunle up.
“now i’m in trouble! I’m in trouble, help me,
save me, kunle am dead!”
He kept shouting and crying.
“what is it, dear friend?” kunle asked when he
opened his gate.
“calm down, what is it?”
“its a dream, i had a dream!”
He cried bitterly.
“I saw a man coming out of a farm, dressed in
grass skirts. The type we wore on our way
here seven years ago. He pointed his stick at
me saying;
Now it’s time you have to go back,
He emphasized that we should once again
dress in grass skirt carrying nothing more
than walking sticks”
Segun announced calmly.
“that means it’s time to go back to agamo. I
think we should not take anything along with
us”
“impossible! It is a lie!”
Segun replied.
“now that we have become wealthy business
men, we want to now argue with your dream,
that dream is our instructor, lets wait a while
may be we shall be given the date of
departure”
He closed the issue.
And they both agreed but mind you segun was
never satisfied about the decision of not
taking anything along when its time to go
back, he wished he could take all his precious
things along with him…
To be Continue…
