"You should chose where you stand. A man should not stagger in his opinions like a banana leaf." Ugomma said to Nwere on a cool morning. He snuck into the church to find her fervently cleaning the benches. Nwere sought after her when he conceived that she knew his ways.

"I've come to see you. What wrong have I committed?" He replied, a mischievous smile glittered his face. He went behind her and held her waist, whispering something she didn't quite hear, but she laughed still. She turned around to push him away from her, her lips upturned in a smile.

"This is the Church. See, that man on the cross is Jesus who died to..."

"To set us free from our sins. He's the same with the father and he's the true God."

Ugomma giggled shaking her head in amusement. Nwere smiled too. He narrowed his eyes, Looking at the cross suspiciously. He wondered how it was that a man would let himself be hung like that.

Ugomma was going to speak when the footsteps she heard earlier became clearer. Now Nwere heard it too, he turned back.

It was him whom he wanted to see, still his heart turned violent, fighting to burst out from it's cage.

"Good day." Father Cletus greeted. He stood far. Tall and slender as a palm tree.  His were brows furrowed together. His eyes darted from Nwere to Ugomma, they were feeding. If one of them had looked well enough they would have seen jealousy and primal desire in his green eyes.

"Good afternoon father." Ugomma quickly greeted. She had no problem calling Him father unlike most of the clan. She didn't have a father of her own and the word to her was comforting, endearing, sometimes even arousing.

"Ugomma." He paused. He looked at both of them opened his mouth to say another word but his mouth betrayed him following suite with his mind. He turned around and left.

Why didn't he recognize me? He thought. Yes, he used to hide in the shadows but now he was In plain sight. Wasn't he the one who tamed his lips?

He was closest to him today, closer than the time in the Bush and the masses on Sundays. Yet, there was no recognition in his eyes. Nwere wondered if the green stopped him from seeing but if it did why then did he take cognizance of Ugomma? Why did his lips caress her name?

He was jealous, envy floating in the air like dust in harmattan. He stomped out without saying a word.

Ugomma became torn, was she to go after him or father. She went for the latter, she knew the former all too well.

She knew why he spoke, the colour of his eyes, the words he fancied even his dreams. If he was turned inside out her knowledge of him would still not falter. This same awareness she willed to have of the man she called father.