He LAUGHED At His FATHER,Because He is FARMER…What HAPPENED To Him Next…#story #folklore #tales – Ty

The sun was hot that afternoon. Chima stood with his hands in his pocket looking at his father’s farm. Chima’s father bent down holding a hole. He was working on his yam farm that fateful day and he was sweating so badly. It was then Chima came back from a long journey and stood there staring at his father.

The next thing he started laughing at him and he didn’t even hide it even out of a little respect for his own father. Papa. Hey. So you are still here wasting your life on this farm planting yam. It was then Chima’s father noticed that he was standing there. Ah Chima, is that the greeting you are supposed to greet me? We have not seen each other for a long time.

And this is how you welcome yourself into your own home. And you are mocking and laughing as the same yam farm that I used to feed you, plot you and send you to school. This is what paid all your school fees and still kept you alive to today. Chim aside, come on papa. Who wants to be known as the son of a yam farmer? See, as I went to the city, I saw people doing well for themselves without feeling themselves, bending, having waist pain up and down in the name of cultivating yam.

I saw real money, papa, this is backward, please. Jim’s father took a moment and looked at him from head to toe. He then choke his head. I don’t blame you. Better backward with peace than forward with trouble. Chima had just finished school in the university. He had stayed with a friend for a few weeks. Everything went well. As someone that schooled in the university, he experienced a different life from the one he experienced while growing up in the village.

He was able to ride in big cars, stayed in fine houses, and witnessed rich people eating in shiny restaurant. When he came back home to the village, the first thing he noticed was the smell. It wasn’t perfume, but there is this smell the village smells that whenever you land, you will know you have landed in the village.

And since Jima had finished school, he had to come back and see his father. That night that he came back. He told his father that he had some plans. Tima sat beside his father and told him about the plans that he had since he had finished school and he cannot come back and start planting yam just like him. His father was curious to know the plans that he had and he gave him a listening ear. Oh yeah, start talking.

What are the plans? I would love to know them. Chima started e papa me I will not stay here. I cannot stay here. I want to make it big. I want to wear fine clothes, use perfume, drive a car. I cannot get all of that by sitting here in this village and be planting yam. It is impossible. Oh, Chima’s father smiled. E. So, you think Yam is now small? The same Yam that made you who you are today.

Remember that small things grow when you care for them? Chima refused to listen. Papa, see, I saw men in the city making money without sweating under the sun. Uhhuh. Papa, don’t you know farm? He’s a businessman. Can’t you see the kind of connection that man has? Please, why can’t I work? Very smart.

I must not suffer like this just to make money. I want to be like Uncle Farm, a businessman or better still, I’ll go and get a job. You cannot force me to stay in this village and start planting y after I’ve gone out and and graduate with this kind of results. The grade I have in school is good. I will use it and get a good job.

Chima’s father frowned because he doesn’t like when someone start comparing each other. Chima, do you know that uncle Auna as you said is your mother’s brother and remember not all that glitters are gold because I knew this your uncle before you were born and I know him so well to date and the kind of businesses that he does.

Why did he not help us when he knew that we were struggling? See, you better not start what you cannot finish. I did not say you should come to the village and stay and be planting yam with me. You can assist a little where you are. You can get a job here in the village. It is not a must that uh you go to the city to get a job.

I just want you to be closer to me. There are some things you need to know about this yam business that will make you a millionaire if you are very careful with whatever I’m about to tell you. You cannot leave this family business. You are my only child. How can I allow you to leave this? Please don’t argue. I know my reasons.

All you need to do is to listen and obey. But Chima did not want to hear it. Papa, you don’t understand city life. It’s because you have stayed in this village for a long time and you have gotten used to this farm farm life. Please, I’m a full grown man. I want to make my choices. But Jim’s father did not argue with him. He just said to him, “This farm will be here whenever you change your mind to still be here.

” The next morning, Chima started to pack his bag. He folded his shirt carefully, polished his shoes until they were very shiny. His father stood at the door holding a small envelope, looking at him. He did not stop him from leaving. When Chima finished packing, the father brought out a small envelope and gave it to him. See this is not much but take it.

If you ever change your mind, come back to the village. This business is gold mine. Only if you know why I want you to come back and start this business. Chima did not even bother to thank his father for the money. He took it and he left. Before he left, he said to his father, “Papa, when I make it speak, I will send you more money than this.

But for now, don’t call me useless because I choose a different path.” Chima’s father just smiled. Go well, my son. You have your life. Make use of it. Chima left and went to the city. When Chima arrived, his uncle Afamea was already waiting for him in one fine shiny black car. Ah, Chima. Uncle Afam shouted, hugging him tightly.

Haha, you look like a city man already. Chima was so happy. His shoulder pad was so high. I told you uncle, I am ready to make money. Good my boy. Good. Here e we don’t talk about farm work we talk about business connections big deals heart swelled because this was the life he had always wanted and he felt like he has landed that first week in the city was like a dream come true took to restaurants be big big ones for that matter he took him to parties he was busy showing him the life he should be living. And Chima was so happy that one

night he told his uncle that he would never go back to the village. How can I go to the village when this life is this sweet? Uncle laugh at me for now laughed. That’s the spirit and you will soon be one of the big boys in the city. Only if you follow my instructions, you will get all the big connections that you want.

But deep inside, Chima never noticed that uncle’s smiles sometimes didn’t reach his heart. One night while Chima was sitting in the living room, his phone rang and it was his father. He picked up. Papa, how are you doing? I’m fine. Oh, Chima, I want to send you some documents. Is about the land farm. Chima side, papa, please, I’m busy. Uhhuh.

The land is your own business, not mine. I’ve told you that I will make it big in this city. I don’t need it. Chima’s father was confused. For what? Are you not my only son again? If I die tomorrow, you will inherit this. I want you to take the land document. But Chima refused. He didn’t even allow his father to say another statement. He ended the call.

As he was talking to his father, his uncle Afamea was sitting beside him. Immediately he ended the call. Aamea said to him, “You must cut off this kind of e thing don’t have time for village problem. If your father calls you too much, block him or block him when you want.” Chima nodded. Yes, uncle, you are right.

I am done with the village life. Anything that concern it is not my business. The city life was so sweet. Chima felt like he has been sleeping in the village all his life. But now he’s awake. Every night uncle would always take him to different places, big parties at a hotel. The next day it was a business meeting in a very beautiful building.

When they got there introduced Chima to men in finer bad and women in fine designer clothes. They took Chima’s hand and smiled as if they have known him for years. Afamea now introduced Chima. You all should meet my nephew. Fresh from school and a very smart boy. Chima continued nodding like a fool, smiling like a prince.

After the introduction to those people, unclea continued spending lavishly on Chima. He started getting new shirts, clothes, perfume. He even got him the latest iPhone. He used it to post pictures online. Why did Jima not bother to ask unclea about the business that brought him to the city? Yet every time will hand him a very thick envelope with plenty money inside and he will tell him to go and spend. Enjoy yourself.

You are now in my word. Whenever Chima opened those money, he felt like he has been in the best life ever. He would thank his uncle and praise him. Uncle, you are the best. If not you, no one else. So, affe would just smile and continue to remind Chima that in this life loyalty is everything.

If you stand by me, you would enjoy. Chima never asked any questions. Why would he? He was living the life he had always wanted. Then one Friday evening, Chima was sitting with three of Uncle Afamea’s friend in a lounge. They were drinking, laughing, talking about how poor people waste their lives suffering. That was when a man walked in.

It was Chima’s father. He was holding an envelope. Even though the man was not rich, he was clean enough. He came there looking for Chima. When Chima cited him, he froze for some seconds, then forced himself to smile. Eh, papa, what are you doing here? Chima’s father said to him, I came to give you this.

H, these are the papers for the land farm. I want you to keep them safe. It is your future. The men at Chima’s table were watching and one of them just smacked and laughed at Chima. Is this your father? And he asked that question in a very demeaning and mockery way. And Chima felt embarrassed. The next thing he did was to drag his father by the side.

Papa, why? Why did you come here? Eh, what are you doing here? Why are you here? Why are you embarrassing me? Eh, and you came here looking like this in front of my friends. I just came to see you, Chima. Are you not my son? Abby, you are not my son anymore. Am I not the one that gave birth to you? Trained you through school.

Chima did not even let him finish. He raised his voice so high so that everyone could hear him. I told you papa, I am not a farmer. keep your dity land.” He pushed the envelope back into his father’s hand and asked him loudly to get out of that place. Chima’s father wanted to leave, but unfortunately the slippers he was wearing caught and that made the envelope and all the contents inside the envelope scattered on the floor.

He had to quietly bend down and pick all of them. And in all of this, Chima did not even help out. He was just standing there angry, looking at his father. After the man finished picking up the papers, he stood up and said to Chima, “One day, one day, I hope you don’t regret this action. I hope so.” Chima’s father turned his back and walked away.

The man was in so much pain and he was angry that his own son would treat him in such a manner that was very disrespectful. No matter how he was looking, no child has to write to insult and humiliate his own parent like that in front of others. Chima felt like he has done the right thing by pushing his father out of his life.

Two weeks later, Uncle Famea came into Chima’s room at midnight and ordered him to dress up because they have a special meeting and important people would be there. Chima was so excited. We uncle replied, “You would see just dress up.” They drove out to the city in the middle of the night. At first, the roads were so smooth.

The car turned into a rough part. Chima looked out of the window and he noticed there were no longer street lights, only tall trees and darkness. Uncle, this part looks so lonely. Where are we going? Aamea replied, “Don’t worry, Chima. This is how big business works sometimes.” Chima did not question him again.

After an hour, they stopped in front of an old way house. The walls were rusted. The windows were broken. It was an abandoned house. There was no sign of people inside. Jimmer was confused. Uncle, where are we? Are you sure this is the right place ordered him to come over and stop asking him stupid questions? They walked inside and they walked for a long time.

Not until they reached a small room that was lit by just one bomb. There was a wooden chair inside the room and Uncle Afamea instructed Chima to sit down. Chima sat down slowly. He still asked him, “What are we doing here?” But this time, Afamea did not answer. He stood by the door watching him. Then it was then Chima felt something strange.

He wanted to talk but he couldn’t. He saw his uncle laughing and smiling in a way he had never seen him before. And that was the last thing Chima remembered. The next day, Chima opened his eyes only for him to be in his uncle’s bed. He set up quickly. His shoes were on the floor covered in dirt. His fingerprints had a lot of dirt under it.

How did I get all of these things? Then there is a mark on his arm like a bone. He looked at self in the mirror and saw all those things. But he tried to remember what actually happened, but he couldn’t remember anything. Everything felt like a dream. That day, Jim felt so tired. His body achd.

But still, he ignored it. He went out, met out with some friends and took pictures. The next day, he felt worse. His legs were so heavy. His bre were shot. And by the third day, his skin looked pale. Even his friends started asking him if he was okay. And Chima would always smile and said, “Yes, I’m fine. I’m just weak.

” That is all. And from that day onwards, every night, Chima will be dreaming. Inside that dream, he’s digging in the ground. His hands were black with soil. No matter how much he tried to stop, his hand kept on digging. And whenever he woke up, his fingernails will be filled with fresh dirt. He kept on asking what is going on.

Days passed. Chima noticed something. All those of his wealthy friends stopped calling. The ones who he goes to party with all the time no longer pick his calls. Even his uncle Afamea seemed distant. The man no longer come and be praising him, calling him good boy, giving him money. He no longer took Chima out as he used to.

When Chima asked him about the meeting that night, what really happened? Because after that meeting, he could not remember. But something left him. His uncle would only reply him, “Forget about it. I’ve told you this. Do not bother yourself.” But Chima couldn’t forget. The mark on his arm had turned dark.

His body feel weak and weaker every day. Sometimes at night he thought he heard voices whispering in the dark. Sometimes he dreams of a hand coming out of the soil to grab his neck. Chima continued to look pale by the day. And one day he could not take it. He had to ask his uncle Afamea to help him that he wants to see a doctor.

That morning he walked up to Afamea and begged him to take him to the hospital because it seems like he wants to see a doctor. No, none of the things happening to him are going. Aamea just looked at him for a long time and just told him, “Chima, you need to rest. Stay inside for now.” Chima begged, but Uncle Afamea warned him to stop.

Chima knew something was wrong. Something had happened that night. He does not know it yet, but the truth about that night, the truth about his father’s land were connected. Then Chima woke up one morning and found the house empty, no breakfast on the table, no car keys on the chef.

He checked his uncle’s room so as to ask him what was going on. His wardrobe was open. Clothes were gone. On the bed there was a short note there. Chima picked it and it read, “Chima, I have traveled. Take care of yourself.” That was all. No address, no phone number. Chima sat on the floor. It was as if he was training. He read it again and again and again, and he knew he was in a very deep mess.

How would he eat? How would he even feed? How would he take care of himself? And now that his health is getting bad, by the end of the week, the landlord came, “Young man,” he called out to him, “Your uncle has not paid the rent. You have two days to move out of here.” “Two days?” Chima was confused.

“Haha, I thought my uncle owned this house. He told me he bought it with his money.” The landlord smiled. You are daydream. You know your uncle own his house. He’s a tenant here. And if you do not pay, I’ll put a new tenant. This is a hot house now. Hot cake. Don’t waste time in moving out. I will call people to come and throw you out. Chima was really shivering.

He does not know what else to do. He started calling all the big big friends that Uncle introduced to him. None were picking his calls. Some even had blocked him. He sent messages. None replied. He decided to trace them to those places that they used to hang out. And when he got there, one of the waiter noticed him and turned away.

No one refused to answer him and nobody decided to tell him anything regarding those men because he looked different. He looks like a ghost now. He had slinkedked down so much that he was really unrecognizable. People were really running away from him saying that he’s cost probably he has went and contact one disease.

People actually started running away from Chima. They would just stare at him as if they have seen a ghost. And his body was not even getting better. His skin began to change. Dark patches grew on his arm. The mark from that night were now swollen and red. Chima barely ate. Every night the same dream digging and digging until a cold hand grabbed his wrist.

He would wake up sweating every night. The two days that the landlord gave him passed and he knew that after that two days the next thing is for the man to come and pursue him out of the house. Tima thought of what to do. He had no choice. The only place he left for him to go is the village to go and meet his father. Probably he would get solution.

The third day Chima managed to pack few of his clothes. He walked to the motor park. The last card he had on him that is what he used to pay for the transport that took him back to the village. When he got down from the bus, some women at the roadside recognized him. H is that not Chima? Wow.

Is this what city life have done to him? Who knows what happened? This one is looking so pale and so slim. And wow, Chima managed to drag himself to his father’s house. When he got there, the house was locked. It was one of their old mama neighbor that came out. Mama Jama shouted, “Chima, is this you bored? Why are you looking like this? May you sick?” Chima managed to ask about his father’s whereabout.

The woman breathed in and breathe out. Chai Chima, your father is gone now. He died. What? Gone? Wow. What happened? I saw him now. He came to the city. He so unfortunate the father sold the land. So men came and tested the soil and they saw something valuable underneath it. Minerals that is what they said.

So they paid him. They paid your father a million so. But your father tried to find you chima. But when he came back disappointed, he said you called him useless. That he doesn’t want you don’t want the land. Blah blah blah blah blah. Well, life has happened now. Abby Chim staggered back millions. The land his father gone.

He knelt down, sat down on the floor, and he cried a very hot cry that afternoon. The same useless land, the one he had rejected, was now the source of great wealth and the father was gone. It was then he realized that he had messed up and because of what is wrong with him, he would die lonely and no one will be there to help him anymore. Chima closed his eyes.

His chest was really hurting him. But when he opened the eyes again, he was not in front of his father’s house crying. He was inside the room. He sat up quickly. Jimmer was shocked. His skin was smoked. The swollen on his arm was gone. He looked around. He was inside his father’s house. Then he looked around again.

He saw the brown envelope. He opened it and it was the land document inside. Chima was confused. It was then his father opened the door and walked in. Uhhuh. Chima, you are awake. I beg, take this h plantain. Go and fry it so that I will use it and eat this morning. I am just coming from the farm. Chima stared at his father and pinched him.

Papa, you are alive. His father laughed, but the question was confusing. What kind of mu question is that? Why would I not be alive? Abby, are you seeing a ghost? Yeah. Would you stand up from there and go and fry the plantain so that we eat? What is the problem? Chima stood up immediately and hug his father so tightly.

It was then his father knew maybe he had a very bad dream. Papa, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, papa. I was blind. I despised you. I I rejected the land that made me what I am today. I was wrong. Jima’s father was still confused. Are you sure you have not started going crazy this boy? What is the problem? What is all of this drama about? The last time I left here, you were sleeping.

Why did you wake up behaving strangely? Papa, it’s as if it was a dream. But e it as if it was reality as in I just saw what will happen if I mess up. Ah thank God it was a dream. Papa this was more than a dream. I lost everything. I lost you. I lost the land. But please forgive me. Uncle Afa is not who he is. Oh China’s father asked him to shut his mouth.

Your uncle Afina is in the city making his money as a businessman. So what does that got to do with your dreams papa? It has everything to do with my dream. In fact, I will never in this life despise humble beginning. Hey, you see that our yam farm? Oh, that is where I will continue since I finished school. This is where I will continue from until I see a better job that I will combine the yam business and the job.

For now, papa, I will not be greedy. From that day, Chima started helping his father in the farm. Fortunately for him, he later got a small job that gave him time to combine both the farming and his job. And it turns out Chima were just dreaming and that kind of dream could be his reality if he did not do the right thing. Do not despise small beginning no matter what.

We know we live in a world that we have a lot of expenses but small beginnings in matters. Sometimes the treasure is right under our feet, but we’ll be looking up as if we kept something up there. Thank you guys for watching and I know you learned one or two from this story. Please drop in the comment section and tell me what you think about the story and what you learned.

Don’t forget to share it with your loved ones, your friends, your family. I Mona, I appreciate you. Please give it a very big thumbs up if you have not. Subscribe because more interesting things will be coming your way soon. You can also support me if you want to support me personally by buying me a coffee.

The link to buy me a coffee is on my description and on the bio of the channel. Until next time, your favorite storyteller, Mona. Goodbye and stay blessed.

The Price of Pride: How a Young Man Learned That Dispising Humble Beginnings Can Cost You Everything

Article:

The afternoon sun beat down with relentless, blistering intensity, casting long, shimmering waves of heat across the fertile earth. Standing at the edge of the sprawling family farm, Chima shoved his hands deep into his pockets, his gaze fixed on the figure bending laboriously over the soil. His father, aging and exhausted, clutched a heavy hoe, working tirelessly on his yam farm. Thick beads of sweat rolled down the old man’s face, tracing paths of hard-earned endurance. It was a poignant scene of sacrifice and quiet dignity, yet the homecoming of Chima after a lengthy journey to the city brought no warmth or comfort. Instead of running to embrace the man who had weathered every storm to raise him, Chima stood rigid, letting out a sharp, unapologetic laugh that echoed cruelly across the open fields. He didn’t even attempt to mask his utter disdain.

“Papa, hey! So you are still here, wasting your life on this farm, planting yam?” Chima blurted out, his voice dripping with condescension. Hearing the commotion, his father paused, wiping the sweat from his brow with a weary hand, only to be greeted not by affection, but by mockery. The older man reminded him that the very yam farm he was ridiculing had fed him, clothed him, paid every single coin of his university tuition, and kept him alive against all odds. Yet, education had apparently blinded Chima rather than enlighten him. He scoffed at the thought of being known as the son of a yam farmer, intoxicated by the superficial gloss of city life where he had witnessed people driving luxury cars, dwelling in opulent mansions, and dining in shiny restaurants without ever breaking a sweat or suffering from chronic waist pain. To him, the honest toil of his father was hopelessly backward. With a philosophical sigh, his father looked at him from head to toe and uttered a quiet wisdom: “I don’t blame you. Better backward with peace than forward with trouble.”

Chima’s newly minted university degree had given him a taste of an entirely different world, far removed from the rustic simplicity of his village origins. During his brief stay with a friend in the city, he had been seduced by urban splendor—the bright lights, the roaring engines of expensive vehicles, and the intoxicating promise of rapid wealth. Returning to the village, however, was a jarring sensory shock. Beyond the familiar earthy smell that signaled home, Chima felt an overwhelming sense of claustrophobia. That very night, sitting beside his father in the modest living room, he laid bare his ambitious and inflexible plans. He declared firmly that he had no intention of remaining in the village to till the ground. He wanted fine clothes, expensive perfumes, luxury cars, and a life of ease, arguing that men in the city made fortunes through smart connections rather than physical exhaustion. He spoke of his maternal uncle, Afamea, whom he viewed as a successful businessman capable of unlocking doors to boundless prosperity.

His father listened with a heavy heart, immediately recognizing the perilous illusion gripping his son’s mind. He warned Chima against his uncle, recalling a past long before Chima was born, noting that not all that glitters is gold and that Afamea had never extended a helping hand during their darkest hours of struggle. The father pleaded for patience, suggesting that Chima could stay close, learn the deep secrets of the family’s agricultural enterprise—a venture that, if handled with care, could yield millions—and combine it with local opportunities. But Chima’s ears were entirely shut to wisdom. Blinded by arrogance and youthful ambition, he dismissed his father’s counsel as the narrow-minded thinking of an old man tethered to the past. The next morning, Chima packed his belongings, polished his shoes until they gleamed, and prepared to leave. His father handed him a small envelope containing financial aid with a parting blessing, advising him to return if the city ever proved too harsh. Chima took the money without even offering a simple word of gratitude, promising boastfully that he would soon send back wealth that would dwarf his father’s entire livelihood.

Arriving in the city, Chima was greeted by Uncle Afamea, who pulled up in a sleek, shiny black car. The reception was dazzling. Afamea hugged him tightly, validating his lofty ambitions and assuring him that in their circle, they didn’t talk about farm work, but rather big business, high-level connections, and massive financial deals. For Chima, this was validation at its finest. His shoulders puffed up with unearned pride; he felt as though he had finally arrived at the summit of existence. The ensuing days unfolded like a surreal dream sequence. Afamea ushered him into exclusive restaurants, high-end parties, and elite gatherings, systematically showcasing a lifestyle of unbridled extravagance. Intoxicated by this rapid immersion into luxury, Chima proudly informed his uncle during one late-night outing that he would never, under any circumstances, set foot in the village again. Afamea laughed approvingly, encouraging him to follow every instruction blindly if he wished to remain among the urban elite.

As weeks turned into months, Chima’s disconnection from his roots grew increasingly absolute. When his father called one evening bearing important documents regarding the family farmland—a foundational asset meant to secure his future—Chima reacted with outright hostility. He rudely complained about being busy, instructed his father to handle village matters alone, and heartlessly ended the call. Sitting right beside him, Uncle Afamea reinforced this toxic detachment, advising Chima to completely block out village problems and even sever communication with his aging parent if necessary. Chima readily complied, drowning himself deeper in the seductive current of city life. Nights were a blur of high-profile parties, luxury hotels, and networking events where Afamea introduced him to affluent men and impeccably dressed women who smiled warmly and greeted him as an equal. Gifts flowed continuously—new designer shirts, exquisite perfumes, and the latest smartphone, which Chima eagerly used to flood his social media profiles with pictures of his seemingly enviable life. Not once did he pause to question the legitimate source of his uncle’s sudden, lavish generosity or the nature of the business transactions that funded their opulent lifestyle. Whenever he needed cash, Afamea handed him thick envelopes filled with currency, reinforcing a warped philosophy that absolute loyalty to his uncle was the sole currency required for perpetual happiness.

The illusion, however, was destined to fracture. One Friday evening, while Chima was lounging at an exclusive club with three of his uncle’s affluent associates, a quiet disturbance rippled through the atmosphere. An elderly man walked into the lounge, neatly dressed yet clearly out of place among the glittering crowd. It was Chima’s father, who had traveled all the way from the village, holding a worn brown envelope containing the vital land papers. Spotting his son, the old man approached with relief in his eyes. But horror gripped Chima. Paralyzed by embarrassment at the prospect of his wealthy peers witnessing his humble origins, Chima froze, then violently grabbed his father by the arm, dragging him toward a secluded corner. Humiliated and furious, Chima lashed out, demanding to know why his father had dared to show up looking like a peasant and ruining his social standing. His father, bewildered and deeply wounded, reminded him of his parentage, of the sacrifices made to put him through school. Instead of softening, Chima raised his voice in a vicious tirade, shouting that he was no farmer and aggressively thrusting the envelope back into his father’s hands. In the scuffle, the old man’s worn slippers caught the floor, sending the land documents scattering across the ground. As the old man quietly knelt to retrieve his dignity along with the papers, Chima stood idly by, watching with cold indifference. Before turning away, his father looked up with tear-filled eyes and delivered a chilling parting prophecy: “One day, I hope you don’t regret this action.” With a heavy heart, the old man walked out into the night, leaving behind a son whose soul had been completely hollowed out by pride.

The true reckoning, however, began quietly two weeks later. At the stroke of midnight, Uncle Afamea entered Chima’s room, instructing him to dress immediately for a special, highly confidential meeting with important dignitaries. Thrilled at the prospect of climbing even higher on the social ladder, Chima complied without hesitation. They drove deep into the night, passing the familiar smooth asphalt of the metropolis before veering onto increasingly desolate, unpaved roads. Streetlights vanished, replaced by towering, ominous trees and a profound, suffocating darkness. When Chima voiced concern over their isolated destination, Afamea brushed off his anxieties, claiming it was simply how big business operated behind closed doors. An hour later, they arrived before a crumbling, dilapidated warehouse. The walls were heavily rusted, windows were shattered, and an oppressive aura of abandonment hung in the air. Stepping inside through endless dark corridors, they reached a tiny, windowless room illuminated by a single flickering bulb. A solitary wooden chair sat in the center. Afamea ordered Chima to sit. As Chima complied, a sudden wave of unnatural heaviness washed over him. He tried to speak, but his voice failed. Looking up, he saw his uncle standing by the door, smiling with a terrifying, malicious satisfaction—a look he had never seen before. That haunting image was the last thing Chima remembered before consciousness slipped away entirely.

When morning broke, Chima awoke abruptly in his bed back at his uncle’s apartment. At first glance, everything seemed normal, yet unsettling anomalies immediately caught his attention. His shoes on the floor were caked in thick, dark soil, and his fingernails were tightly packed with dirt. Stranger still, a deep, ominous mark marred the skin of his arm like a bruised bone. He tried desperately to recall the events of the previous night, but his memory was completely blank, shrouded in a dense, unnatural fog. Brushing off the physical fatigue that suddenly crippled his body, he attempted to maintain his usual routine, meeting friends and snapping pictures. But day by day, his physical condition deteriorated at an alarming rate. His legs grew leaden and heavy, his breathing shallow, and his skin turned a ghostly, sickly pallor. Even his friends began to pull away, noticing the stark transformation. Every single night, a recurring nightmare plagued his sleep: he was trapped in an endless subterranean darkness, furiously digging into the earth with his bare hands, which were caked in pitch-black soil. No matter how much he screamed internally to stop, his hands clawed relentlessly at the ground, and upon waking, his fingernails would invariably be filled with fresh earth.

As the weeks dragged on, the glamorous facade completely collapsed. The wealthy friends who once showered him with invitations suddenly stopped returning his calls; many had blocked him entirely. Uncle Afamea grew conspicuously distant, abandoning his paternalistic praise, withholding allowances, and refusing to offer any explanation for the midnight meeting. Desperate and terrified, Chima begged his uncle to take him to a hospital, complaining of unbearable internal weakness and spectral voices whispering in the dark. Afamea merely glared at him coldly, offering no medical help and curtly telling him to stay indoors. The final blow fell swiftly. One morning, Chima awoke to find the apartment completely devoid of life. His uncle’s wardrobe stood wide open, clothes were gone, and a brief, chilling note rested on the bed: “Chima, I have traveled. Take care of yourself.” There was no address, no contact number, no lifeline. Panic set in instantly. Shortly thereafter, the landlord arrived, delivering a crushing eviction notice, revealing that Uncle Afamea did not own the property at all, but was merely a tenant himself who had defaulted on months of rent. With only two days to vacate, Chima frantically tried contacting everyone in his supposed elite network, only to find himself completely ignored, blocked, and shunned by people who now looked at him as though he were carrying a deadly contagion or a ghost. His physical body was rapidly wasting away; dark, swollen patches erupted across his arms where the mysterious midnight marks had been, and he was reduced to a skeletal, unrecognizable shell of his former self.

With nowhere left to turn and facing imminent homelessness, Chima gathered his remaining strength and used his very last coins to board a bus back to the village. The journey was agonizing, his body wracked with pain and fever. Upon arriving at the village motor park, a few local women stared at him in utter shock, whispering among themselves about how severely city life had battered and withered him. Dragging his failing body forward, he finally reached his father’s house, only to find it locked tight. An elderly neighbor emerged, looking at him with deep pity before dropping a devastating bombshell. Chima’s father was gone. He had passed away. The neighbor went on to explain a heartbreaking twist of fate: shortly after the old man’s return from his heartbreaking encounter in the city, government surveyors and investors had tested the soil of the family farmland and discovered immensely valuable mineral deposits underneath. The family land, which Chima had so viciously rejected and mocked, was actually a multi-million-dollar goldmine. Wealth buyers had paid a fortune for the rights, making his father a millionaire overnight. But the old man’s heart had remained broken by his son’s bitter rejection and cruel insults, and despite trying to find him one last time, he had died carrying the grief of a shattered relationship.

Staggering backward under the immense weight of this agonizing truth, Chima collapsed onto the dusty earth, weeping hot, inconsolable tears of bitter regret. He realized with absolute clarity that his pride, greed, and disdain for humble beginnings had cost him everything—his father, his inheritance, his health, and his future. As his chest seized with a sharp, suffocating pain and his vision faded into darkness, he braced himself for the lonely, wretched death he so clearly deserved.

Then, in a sudden, jarring shift of reality, the darkness fractured. Chima bolted upright, gasping for air. The severe physical pain was gone; the dark, swollen patches on his arms had vanished completely. Instead of a cold, empty city room or a dusty village path, he found himself resting comfortably inside his familiar room in his father’s modest village house. Disoriented and trembling, he looked around in absolute disbelief until his eyes landed on a familiar brown envelope resting on the table—the exact land document his father had tried to offer him. Before he could process the overwhelming miracle, the door swung open, and his father walked in, holding a bunch of plantains and speaking casually about just returning from a morning’s work on the farm. Staring at his living, breathing father, Chima was paralyzed by shock. He rushed forward, throwing his arms around his father in a desperate, tearful embrace, refusing to let go.

It had all been a vivid, terrifying premonition—a psychological and spiritual awakening granted by grace to show him the destructive path he was dangerously close to walking. Sobbing uncontrollably, Chima confessed every single detail of the horrific nightmare, begging for forgiveness and pledging never again to despise the honest labor of his heritage. Though his father remained utterly bewildered by the sudden emotional outburst, the profound shift in Chima was unmistakable. From that day forward, Chima abandoned his arrogant illusions. He proudly joined his father on the yam farm, rolling up his sleeves to cultivate the earth that sustained them. In time, he secured a balanced job that allowed him to successfully combine professional work with agricultural enterprise. He learned the greatest lesson of human existence: never despise small beginnings, for true treasure often lies quietly right beneath our feet, waiting to be cherished by those humble enough to honor the roots from which they grew.