As I walked through the market one evening, I was lost in thought of my late grandmother. She was someone I stayed with while growing up and I loved her so much. As I walked down quietly with my head down, I was hit with a smell of nostalgia. This familiar smell transported me to back to my childhood.
Grandma was a lover of books. Even in her old age, she'd always pick up books to read. My dad had to get her reading glasses as a result of the love she developed for books.
Grandma would call me to sit by her side and then, she'd read out stories to me. Some times, she read other motivational books to me, too.
As a child, she had always wanted to go to school and become a teacher because of her love for children and her passion to pass knowledge to them. At the age of 10, her father stopped her from school and married her off to a man old enough to be her father three years later.
At the age of 13, Grandma didn't know what marriage was all about and when her father gave her off to the man, she had no idea what was happening.
Little did she know that her dream was shattering right before her eyes.
She told me what happened that night and how the man pressed her against the bed, not minding her screams. The next day, she discovered she was the man's 10th wife. It was even more shameful to her when she saw the man's three daughters who were her age mates. I used to wonder what her father was thinking when he did that to her.
At the age of 15, Grandma had given birth to my father and years later, she had 6 more children. Her husband died and she had nothing left, all his children asked her to leave the house.
After she was able to train all her children, including my dad, she enrolled for adult education. It took time before she was able to read and write properly.
Since she could no longer teach in a school as she dreamed of, she decided to take me as her student. Everyday, the room smelled of books. If you read books a lot, I know you will be able to relate to its smell. Grandma made me love books.
The next day, I decided to visit the house, even though Grandma is no more. I just wanted to perceive the smell again and probably, see if I could remember more things I learned from her.
On getting there, I opened the door and the familiar smell greeted me. I stood at the door, inhaling the air like it was the aroma of a delicious food being cooked.
I walked around the room, touching the books in her shelves. Even though they were dusty, they were properly arranged, just the way she loved them.
Something caught my attention. I saw a box in a corner. It was adorned with delicate patterns and it looked like it hadn't been opened in years.
I gently opened the box and I saw a note written for me. "Dear Sam, I want you to know that I love you and you're my favourite student."
Tears pricked at the corner of my eyes, as I realized that the box had been kept for me for a long time. I remembered the way she would smile at me each time I asked her questions and how she would hug me wrap her hands tightly around me, telling me how much she loved me.
I'm grateful for a Grandma like her. She made my childhood beautiful and each time I remember my childhood, I am more grateful that I spent them with her.
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