PROLOGUE

Angel!
That was her name. It was a long time ago when she was only nine years old. They used to call her Angel then.
She was tall for her age. Anyone who saw her knew that she would grow into a beautiful young woman. She was fair in complexion, with bold eyes and long lashes. Her nose stood beautifully over her mouth. It was a small mouth. The lips were not thick, but they were beautiful in their orientation. Everything was in its perfect place in her pretty oval face. With her long hair falling over her shoulders, she looked like an angel.
Her mother, Mrs. Njideka Onuegbu, was a petty trader. She was more concerned about providing food for her children than any other thing. Her husband was a loafer, so no one really blamed her. Though he was a cobbler, and did well whenever he decided to work, he was very lazy. He never liked to work. He preferred to sit around, talking and playing with children in the neighbourhood, and then drink with the little money he made. He did not care about his responsibilities towards his wife and their four children.
But the kids liked him. He was the one they always saw when they woke up, and the one they always met when they came home from school. They would prepare their lunch very quickly, eat and then rush to his side.
He worked in a little shed in front of the house. And the children were always with him there. He seemed to be a library of stories, and he would always tell them. He would carry them in his hands, throw them into the air and catch them again. He made them understand how much they meant to him. He showed them love. And they loved him in return.
Their mother always came home very late and did not have time for them. Though she was the breadwinner of the family, they did not appreciate her. They did not know that she was doing everything because she loved them. They did not know that she did not have time for them because of the responsibility she was carrying. She loved them, deeply and truly. But she knew that being around would not feed them, nor clothe them. Their father was living as if there was no future, so she knew she had to do all she could to maintain the family. That was why she struggled to provide for her children, her own children, whom she loved. But the children did not understand.
It was not entirely their fault. Whenever she came home, tired and dirty, she always saw their father playing with them, with no concern, no care, no worry. It always got her angry.
Once in a while, her little daughter would walk towards her with the hope of getting a pat, a smile or a gentle hug. But she would rebuke her. Her annoyance at her husband's laxity would be visited upon the children. They never understood their mother's predicament, nor could they explain her reactions. In their young hearts, all they knew was that mama hated them while papa loved them. Her countenance not only kept the children away from her, it also put an end to whatever joyful spirit that was flowing before her coming home. They would quickly suspend the activity in progress and wait patiently for the next day.
It was during the day, with the sun shining in the sky, in the brightness of its light, a gentle breeze blowing across, and the little girl running towards her smiling father, running into his waiting arms, a look of unreserved joy on her face, her hair flowing in the wind, that was when she appreciated life. That was when she loved living. And that was when they called Angel.
Yes, Angel was her name!

Available at Smashwords

Price: $2.99