Today I saw him, he limped back and forth across the room and I stood there – staring. He looked like a man to whom life hadn’t shown much cognisance, and he looked frail in his black hat. The hat, I presumed and more or less concluded was to cover his aging face, for I couldn’t see so much as his nose and mouth. He wore a loose fitting shirt and half buttoned it through, I guess it was too routine for him. His pants barely reached his ankle and then I noticed he had a deep cut on his foot – like a gun wound, oh and that explains the limp I thought to myself, wondering why I hadn’t noticed that in the first instance.

He still limped back and forth across the room, he looked agitated, as though some person was standing him up. And then it happened, in a matter of seconds. He raised his hat up, revealing his eyes, and I saw through his eyes, a life of pain, sorrow and anguish, and with those eyes he stared at me. At this point he was standing directly opposite and facing me from across the room. As though in a trance I stood and watched and stared and couldn’t even blink, he looked almost infinitesimal to me. He only smiled at my noticeable fear for and not of him. I watched him draw closer gradually and soon he stood right before me, I thought he smelled of newly brewed coffee. I told him I was sorry and with understanding he smiled and nodded. He then took my hands in his and said ‘my daughter, life is not always fair, even those you love so much could at times hurt you so much you don’t feel the pain anymore, I tried to hide the pain, I still try but my eyes and this limp wouldn’t let me. But I’ve learnt in all this to be content and to appreciate beauty when I see it, and you my child, you are beautiful, you know even without being told, just like your grandmother. Do tell your father, my son that I came over today again but I wouldn’t be coming back anymore. I only thought he would let me say a final goodbye but I am well pleased I finally saw your face. Goodbye my child, Amope daughter of the great Iloko hunter’. He let go of my hands, looked deeply into my eyes and smiled. That moment, it felt as though I never heard anything so true…I ran up the stairs of our dilapidated family house and badged into my father’s room, I told him he needed to see someone right away but he wouldn’t buldge, he probably knew who it was. Not wanting to waste any more time, I ran back into the hallway and found that the limping old man was gone – never to return.