THE WILL OF HOPE CHAPTER 1





Far in the east, there was a village called Umuojia. It was already sunset, and looking down upon the village were tall trees which included palm trees, cherry trees, rubber trees and many others.
The smoke of supper rose swiftly out of the kitchens of each hut to embrace the receding light of the day, to give way for the darkness that had been waiting patiently to descend on the village.
This day was unusually cool, unlike the past days when the villagers remained indoors to relax after a strenuous day at work. Cattle could be seen going back to their owners, with herd boys tagging behind them.
Mothers were busy cooking supper for their families, while fathers were busy telling their children folktales.

This particular set of children had just finished their supper, they all trooped out towards the old man's hut. It was built on the outskirts of the village. Mr Mansah was a kind old man who used to tell the children good moral stories. When they got to his tent, he was sitting on his famous stool outside taking his dinner.
When he saw the children, his face lit with a smile.
"Welcome, my sons and daughters, welcome to my home." That was how he used to greet them whenever they paid him a visit. "I hope you didn't disobey your parents today."
"No, papa. For your last story teaches about the evil in disobedience," said Eze, one of the children.
9 "Good, I like kids who have retentive memories", the old man said. " You can all sit down, and wait for me to finish my dinner."

The children sat down in a circle.
Mon one of the children blew a faint whistle and all the children fully aware of the sign chorused, "Good evening, sir. How are you feeling today, sir?"
"As you can see, I am fine," the old man replied. "I thought you have all forgotten the custom."
He went on eating. When it was about three more morsels of pounded yam to finish, he called on the children to join him. They declined on the ground that they had eaten before coming. After he had finished, the children helped him to wash and take in the dishes and prepared his bed for the night. He was pleased.
"These are children after my heart," the old man mused.
The children later sat in a circle as before. The old man, realizing they were ready, began, "How many of you took permission from your parents

before coming down to my place?"
They all raised up their hands.
"Good,"he commended them.
"Whenever you are going out, always make sure you tell your parents so that your parents would know how and where to look for you if you do not return on time. Is that clear?"
"Yes," chorused the children.
"Today, I am going to tell you a story." The old man adjusted his wrapper.
"The story is about the
virtues of honesty. Listen attentively and remember that there must be no interruption.

This is the story. Long time ago, Mr Alex was a very wealthy man. He was also a very hard working man. His father, before his death, had given him a lot of land. With this, together with the ones he inherited after his father's death and the ones he bought, he lived his life as a farmer. At harvest, he was able to reap very healthy crops, which he took to the market to sell.
Week after week, Mr Alex worked harder, and year after year he had healthy crops which he sold at reasonable prices and went home contentedly. It was not long before he bought a poultry farm to supplement his other business.
Two years after he had bought the poultry farm, he got married formally in a church, after which the reception took place in a well-known place called

Giza garden. During the reception, prayers ranging from a healthy and happy marital life to long life and the fruit of the womb were showered on the couple.
It became a very big surprise to the villagers when after two years of marriage, Mary, the wife of Mr Alex was unable to take in. Although nobody said it openly they all began to say so many things, and the rumour mongers carried it to the extent that one day the rumour that had pervaded the air then fell into Mary's ears. She rushed home that day weeping bitterly.

Mr. Alex tried to supress his feelings about not having a child but it was not easy.
After a period of five years of marriage and nothing to show for it, he became worried and thoughtful.
"My God, what have I done wrong? Darling, why do you look so sad?" Mary asked in confusion.
"Don't darling me!" Mr Alex said without thinking.
Darling in the
morning, darling in the evening, who will inherit my property when I die?
Who will bear my name when I am no more? Is it darling?"
Mary did not utter any more words.
Her heart had been shattered to shreds and its fragments could not be packed together again. She fell on the bed and wept for the umpteenth time.
Not far away from Mr Alex's house was the Church of Glory where

the villagers worshipped on Sunday.
The church had decided to hold a healing service for both members and non members.
Mr Alex and Mary
worshipped in this church.
That
Sunday, just as the bell tolled the second time, Mary who had already washed and powdered her face, picked up her bible, held it firmly under her left arm and walked gently and soberly to the church. She sat on the front seat. When the time for prayers came, she knelt down and poured her heart to God.
The preacher, Reverend Pastor Dominic was a very good pastor. The theme of the special service - "KNOW YOURSELF" was taken from a special verse from the bible.
All was now set and the preacher began his sermon.
"Our today topic
is indeed a special one. Know yourself and keep yourself on the safe side