Omah’s Odyssey on The Southerner Newspaper 

Tuesday, October 7, 2025

In the morning’s mix of light and shadow, we find echoes of what has been – hints of memories, feelings that were once sharp.

Chigozie’s call came like a sound cutting through silence, carrying the weight of past and present connections. It was in these meetings we saw outlines of a longing, loss, changing human bonds. What followed reflected vestiges of what we once were – bits of memories, feelings, spaces between words.

The morning arrived quietly, shadows lingering like remnants of night’s dreams fading into daylight. Chigozie’s call reached me – a sound cutting through silence, carrying memories both good and painful. His words drew me into spaces between past and present. The conversation became a journey into longing, loss, and patterns shaping human connection.

“Hello, dear… it’s been a while,” he said. His voice a familiar echo – once able to prick my heart like piano notes played in spaces of forgotten love. His words felt like a gentle touch on a skin used to missing him – bringing both comfort and pain.

I didn’t respond right away, caught in thoughts that clung like morning fog on old trees – thoughts mixed with sadness, longing, and the ache of time past. He kept talking, his tone calm like old waves shaping hidden parts of the heart where love leaves a mark.

“My parents made you an offer… but I was told you haven’t responded till now… what’s the matter?” His words hung like autumn leaves about to fall – fragile, carrying unspoken meaning.

Between his words and my response, unspoken things gathered like frost on winter branches – delicate, showing signs of what had been, what could’ve been. His question lingered like echoes in a quiet cathedral – asking for an answer I wasn’t sure I could give.

The silence felt like the pause between heartbeats – showing some truths don’t need words. I felt our past unfolding like glimpses of dream landscapes – changeable, showing bonds that once felt strong.

Chigozie seemed to sense my feelings with a touch that felt almost natural. “What’s the problem?” he asked – like a musician touching a violin’s strings, bringing out feelings.

I said quickly, my voice perhaps reviewing an inner feeling, “Nothing… I’m fine.” I added, trying to sound casual despite emotions swirling inside, “As for your parents’ proposal, I’m still thinking about it.”

“What’s up with you?” I asked – trying to connect across things we didn’t know about each other, hoping for something. “And how’s school life abroad?” My words felt fragile like petals from high-up flowers – delicate.

“I’m fine,” he said – two simple words like stones dropping into a deep well – plain on the surface but hiding deeper meanings.

A silence followed – like the spaces between musical notes, heavy with feelings not spoken. The quiet grew like a thin layer between us – showing deep connections can happen without words.

Unsaid words hovered like shadows – feelings of longing, regret, possibility. I felt meaning came through the silence – the absences spoke louder than words.

Chigozie broke the silence, his voice gentle but urgent asked. “What’s going on… please respond to my parents’ request. I really want you by my side here… please.”

His words hung like symbols of care – vulnerable, carrying unspoken desire. As he spoke, my mind went back through life’s moments: ups, downs, breaks – like stars now distant memories.

There was a time I thought I’d break without him – his absence felt like losing a part of me. Back then, every bit of me responded to him.

But now, like someone returning to changed places, I couldn’t picture our empty talks – once lively exchanges now like dead autumn leaves on cold ground.

Our words lost meaning like dried-up husks – bare remnants. Our talks once full of feeling now felt like wind through bare trees – love’s shapes change, fragile like everything else.

I remembered waiting for his call – his voice once lit up my mornings like sunrise. His silence scared me then – I feared it would swallow me whole.

Now, his call unsettled me like unwanted visitors in an empty house. His words stirred old papers like autumn wind in closed spaces – bringing back memories I thought were gone.

In life, two things are beyond our weak control – love and death. They find you when fate decides – reminding us that choices, passions, and endings are part of something bigger.

Listening to Chigozie, echoes lingered like rain’s scent on stone – touching, distant – speaking of paths taken, seasons grown old.

I knew truths mix like twilight fading to night – unavoidable change brings both kindness and hurt. These are like soul codes – understood when facing life’s shifting shadows.

Feelings then seemed like faint sounds from instruments strung by players that had long left – haunting signs of things passing.

Our emotions were like old writings overwritten by departures, returns, loves, distances – layered lines making up the braille our souls read in dark reflection.

The patterns of my heart shifted like unseen movements in the skies – change stars. I waited for what was next, my soul tuned to Chigozie’s lingering sounds murmuring mysteries – caught between time and looking back.

In light and shadow’s gentle play, we glimpsed remnants of who we were – echoes of connection, whispers of longing, patterns shifting like skies. Chigozie’s call stayed like sound suspended in time, showing interplay of memory, want, spaces between words. It was there, in quiet reflection, that we found outlines of our remnants – fragile, touching, speaking softly of what was and what might unfold.