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Odili My First Love (Series 10) – Odili M Nke Mbu

Odili My First Love (Series 10)

Wow! We are back again with the continuation of this mind-blowing series – “Odili My First Love (Series 10)”. If you are not following the series, you are missing a lot.

We stopped at series 8 and we are continuing again today because our readers are giving us no rest. They keep requesting we continue with the series. You can search for the complete series here.

Oya, take a seat and enjoy. Remember to share the story and SUBSCRIBE to our Notification for more posts.

Meet the Author

Ifeyinwa is a promising young writer who has a passion for creative writing. Although she does not have any published work in her name yet, she aspires to publish books as good as that of renowned writers like Chimamanda Adichie and Chinua Achebe. ODILI NKE MBỤ M is one of her stories on a journey to hit a milestone. Chat her on

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Odili My First Love (Series 10)

When Papa saw off our August visitors, we all assembled in the parlor and waited for his return. The night was slowly creeping in and one could barely make out the shadow of someone approaching. Ozioma like a speed of light warmed the Sunday leftover food as we waited.

My heart thundered in my ears and my heart skipped many times. The purpose of the visit was because of me. I was shocked because Papa barely mentioned it to anyone.

The air in the parlor became unbearably stuffy for me. The night was solemn that the sound of a pin falling on the floor could be heard. The moon was in its last quarter but the crescent still sent light into the room through the transparent white curtain at the door.

Papa sat at the chair across the room, close to the cupboard that housed old books and some China wares used on special occasions. A center table demarcated the double armchair Mama and I sat on from the one Ikenna and Ozioma sat in.

Udoka was seated on the wooden stool Mama used in the kitchen, popularly called ‘nwanyị nọdụlụ okwu’. The light from the bush lamp on the cupboard illuminated the room while Papa’s voice reverberated. If there was the part of Papa I had never seen, it was the part displayed before me.

After eating the afternoon meal which was Sunday rice, Mazi Ndudi had visited with his eldest son, Nnamdi. From Mama’s room where I lay, I could hear them exchanging pleasantries with Papa.

“Nnamdi is now a grown man, ehn. A little child of yesterday”, Papa had said amidst laughter.

“Children of nowadays grow like they eat fertilizer”. The father replied jokingly. In the eyes of elders in Aku, everyone is a child.

I had felt a bit relieved after my friends visited the previous day but I cannot help feeling lethargic. Mama brought in my own meal which she garnished with vegetables. I also had the sole privilege of eating a whole ‘ọdụ azụ’.

“The vegetable is for you to regain blood”, Mama said. She left immediately Papa called for her attention. She returned not quite long and asked me to bathe and change into fresh clothes.

Odili My First Love (Series 10)


“You can even wear your church cloth”.

I looked at her, puzzled. I chose a floral gown she had bought for me the previous Christmas. I was about to throw the wrapper I used in covering myself around my shoulders when Mama stopped me.

“Mba. A minute without this wrapper wouldn’t kill you with cold”.

Nnamdi and his father’s faces lit up immediately I walked into the parlor. I had seen him last Christmas but could not recognize him. He had left Aku before I started ọta akara. During random discussions with my brothers about people that left Aku for the township, they do mention him.

His father was a yam trader and sales not only in Aku market but in neighboring villages on their market days. Mazi Ndudi was not to be called a wealthy man, but the business gave him the opportunity to trade with Hausa people that supply yams in large quantities.

Recently, things were said to have turned better for them. Nnamdi who went for boyi (Igbo Apprenticeship system) in Kano had been settled. Their house which was situated along ‘ụzọ moto’ had been painted, giving the house a new look.

Not so long, the compound was fenced and secured with a gate; a rare sight in Aku. The news of how Nnamdi’s mother wore the same wrapper for three Sundays had been a story that made people convulse with laughter each time it was told.

It was last Christmas. Nnamdi had come back from Kano after so many years had gifted her wrappers but a particular piece called ‘Hollandis’ she had worn consecutively for three Sundays, telling anyone that cared to listen it was a gift from her son.

“Ọ kwa Hollandis nwa m gotere m”. Sometimes, she might forget she had told you before.

Nnamdi seemed to have gotten the best traits from each of his parents. He was tall like his father. The feature earned Mazi Ndudi the name ‘Dogo’.

One may not know Ndudi in the market but once Dogo is mentioned, the person is rightly taken to ‘ọdọ ji’ in the market. Nnamdi left his father’s robust size and inherited the mother’s slender feature. He was dark with small lips and a standing nose. The only loophole in his nearly perfect body was his ears.

They were the type called ‘ntị ọba’. They were standing out like that of a rabbit but it did not mar how handsome he is.

Odili My First Love (Series 10)


On the table stood two bottles of schnapps and kola nuts. At the foot of the chair where Nnamdi sat was a keg of palm wine. I sat on the ‘nwaanyị nọdụlụ okwu’ close to the door connecting Mama’s room and the parlour, while Mama sat with Papa on the double arm seat; opposite our visitors.

“You have heard the purpose of our visit”, Dogo said to Papa. He cleared his throat and continued, “my son said your daughter could not recognize him last  Christmas when he saw her. Who could blame her?” The men laughed. Mama chuckled. I looked confused.

“You know, I have been mentioning this thing to you but we all know how you like a book and formal education. I’m glad you called us today”.

Papa scratched his head and smiled. He had always prided himself that his only daughter would go to school.

“Ada m nwaanyị ga-erunata n’isi mmiri sukulu a”, he would say.

It was surprising to see suitors in our house. The most shocking part was that Papa invited them himself. He had not said no to the proposal neither had he said yes.

He brought me before them to ascertain if I liked the young man or wanted to continue my education. He told Nnamdi to give me time to think it through but stressed he would love that I get the ‘school cert’ first. Dogo did not dispute the idea but opinionated that I should be betrothed to his son to make cement the proposal.