It was a custom in our place for a man to leave his father’s house in search of greener pastures to show independence. I’d dreaded this day all my life and wished it away.

Finally that day came, mama wept and kissed me goodbye. Baba was trying to hide the tears in his eyes. Baba was a Christian, one of the few in our place, a brave man, very independent except that baba depended too much on his God. Baba had tried making me believe in His God but I found it hard to believe in a God who hadn’t done anything for me before, it was mama and Baba who always provided for me.

With my hat and shoes on, I began my journey, treading on the paths of destiny which my father and father’s fathers trod. The journey was indeed strenuous and I passed the night under trees each night.

On the sixth night, tired from walking all day, I took shelter under an oak tree. The weather was just perfect and the moon, OH! What a beautiful sight, I reminisced on my boyish days, listening to moonlight tales on my mother’s laps. How time flies!.

   I took out a photograph of baba and mama, the moonlight beamed on their beautiful smiles and I was grateful for the illumination. It was then I realized that baba had been right all along. God was everywhere, not only in our hometown but here also making daily provisions for me.He sheltered me these past few days, fed me with fruits from trees and water from Brooks. He illuminated my path with the moonlight and I didn’t stumble in the dark.

I looked up from the photograph and ahead of me.There! A city full of lights, a city where I’d find greener pastures. It’s truly by depending on Baba’s God that a man can be independent.

I was muttering prayers of thanks as I blinked back tears, It then dawned on me that Baba’s God has become my God too.

-Dera Robinson. First runner up, CLH’s picture story contest

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