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I was eighteen or less but by that age, I already had read a whole lot of books I could get my hands on from my Uncle's bookstore plus more he would recommend for me on days I could not make a choice. That was exactly what made him my favourite uncle.
It was like an adventure to me. Reading through words and having a clear picture of what the writer is trying to paint with mere words. Sometimes it felt like I was seeing a movie untold before me but Inside the pages of a book.
So I kept frequenting my uncle's store. Picking out new fantasies each day, and new horror the next day. And loomy days it was more of motivational books. But in all, I made sure to touch each genre or theme at that very young age.
Day after day, month after month. I closed different chapters of different books. The more I found reading interesting, the more I read, and the more I closed more chapters.
But that day as I helped pack up those worn-out books from the dusty shelves of the bookstore. The smell of old books sniffing through my nose. It dawned on me that I was not just closing chapters of books but chapters of memories too. I was closing memories of my childhood days that I spent sometimes curled up in the small store, reading and helping my uncle attend to his customers. And also I was closing memories of days I argued about books and who was our favourite with my uncle.
And when I read Purple Hibiscus by Chimamanda Adichie. And wished I might be able to meet my imaginary favourite character in the book, Kambili. I even learnt to read newspapers, and with the little knowledge gained from it about the political world, I would argue politics with my uncle.
Turning to him I smiled "But Uncle why are you closing down the shop?" I asked.
He looked at me and smiled. "My dear, everyone has gone digital now. Business is not booming as usual, besides my eyes can't even grab the words in a book anymore. It's time to close this chapter" he looked around. I'm sure he was going to miss his little store.
I was going to miss the store too. Everything about it. I wished I could take over but what I longed for in life was outside the shores of my hometown. And I was ready to go get it.
"So Uncle, what is next for you now?" I asked, breaking the silence.
"Mmmmh, I have lived my life reading the white man's books and histories. I think it is time to go home to understand my roots and dine with my ancestors." He replied. His eyes were so hopeful. "Maybe write a book too about our lineage"
"I would love to be your first reader. And already, I am a big fan," I said.
We laughed about it and continued unpacking the store.
