He was born to Obiechina. A man who was his father's only progeny. Alone, and tossed.

Somadina graced his parents after ten years of childlessness. His name projected the prayer and desire of his father. But years passed, and Somadina was yet to have a brother or sister.

His parents went from strong faith to resignation to fate. As the years fleeted, it became evident that Somadina might be alone in his parents house just like his father. But the lad was blissfully ignorant of the plague.

Somadina had the hyperactivity of most children. No less a lion's cub, he managed his fists well. But it all changed on the day he was beaten by a gang of siblings at the village square.

“No one was there to help me.”

His father forced a painful smile. He understood the boy, but he never expected the next question.

“ Papa, why am I alone?”

" That's enough. Go and meet your mother," Obiechina replied from a broken heart, carefully masked.

Somadina cried his way into his mother's kitchen. The boy had no idea that his father carried that question daily on his chest.

“ Mama...they beat me... I had no brother to help me. They said they will do it again, until I learn a lesson.”

By the fireside, she exhaled and embraced the boy. 

" You shouldn't be beaten by your peers before you learn a lesson. 

You are alone, Somadina. You must know that. You must be wiser and guard your ways.

A man doesn't have to always depend on his fists to display his masculinity. Until the day you have a full house, you ought not to hunt recklessly in the wild."

Years later, he would remember that day. The fight that made him sober. Where he was humbled. His last fight of fists. The beginning of his life towards fatherhood.

So, the day his first child graced the world, he knew his father's prayers had been answered.