Lost Innocence

Chapter 1

April 1986

A dark debonair young man, obviously in his early twenties, walks briskly through the magnificent lobby of Broadway International, acknowledging greetings and greeting others on his way out of the office that cool Thursday evening.

"You are kind of in a hurry young man, an appointment or something?" asked Mr. Robinson, a slim and tall man in his forties who holds the door ajar from outside the entrance as they meet.

He smiles, "I have a game of tennis to catch sir; it's been a while."

Mr. Robinson looks high into the sky, "well, maybe not," he quips. "Enjoy the best of the evening."

"Thank you sir," and he steps out of the glass door.

The Lagos Lawn Tennis Club is just about ten minutes' drive from the Broadway International Headquarters office on Broad Street. Twenty minutes after Akin left the office to drive to the club that is right opposite Tafawa Balewa Square, the weather changed.

He parked his car under a huge almond tree across the gates of the club, but sat for a moment inside the glittering metallic blue Renault Feugo, a little dejected.

Almond trees with their huge trunks lining the street darken their shadows upon the road, leaves, and branches already dancing and whistling, heralding the coming of a soothing relief from the scorching sun earlier in the day.

He gathered up himself, stretching his hand to pick up his sports bag from the back seat. It's sure going to be one big rainfall.

Bad timing, he thought.

He got out of the car and slammed the door as he dashed across the road, just in time to miss the first torrents of the rain.

Sneakers screeching on the tiled floor, "Oops!" he exclaimed as he entered the lobby and straight in the face of a lone standing young girl with a beautiful welcoming smile.

"We are all in it," she said smiling.

That's disarming, he thought of the smile.

She looks like an angel from out of space. An outstanding beauty he's never run into in his years of frequenting the club. And the rains came, in its torrents.

"Aren't you lucky," she said. "This shouldn't have met you on the street."

"It would have been something else," he agreed, then sighed.

More people came into the lobby. Akin moved towards the lounge, and the girl instinctively followed in tow.

Chapter 2

Aba-Nla, October 1964

It was a bright early Saturday evening in October, Baba Ode was just returning from the farm, his gun across his shoulders as he was about stepping into his premises.

"You are welcome o baba," a woman coming from around the corner greeted, "eku at'aro".

"Aha, Ajike so you are back," the man stood in his track to answer. "Thank you. I didn't know you have returned from your Lagos trip. You are welcome, my daughter."

"I came late last night baba. I even thought you would have long returned from the farm, that is why I chose now to come and see you." Ajike perched closer to Baba Ode, "maybe I should let you rest while I come back later baba because your son sent me to you."

"What is later there when we didn't go to the farm to lift a weight. Let me just drop my gun. I will be with you shortly," he said as he went inside his hut. "Iya Alaba is working to pack the cassava she was drying at the farm, otherwise, we would have returned together."

"I was just going to ask if she was home," she said.

"No. Her work did not allow her to come just yet."

He came back promptly as he promised.

"You are welcome, baba."

"We thank our creator," the man said as he sits on a huge log already polished from constant use as a seat.

"Ehn, baba. Your son Folaranmi in Lagos sent me to you."

"I hope he is doing very well there?" Baba Ode replied. "He is the ultimate glory of this village and everyone is looking up to him to do us proud. The creator will support him. Our ancestors will

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