Squatting underneath the tiers of benches, next to Christopher, I waited in anticipation. Although my body trembled and I was scared, excitement zipped through me. The impatient crowd carelessly threw bright, red flowers from their seats and the red petaled confetti showered down upon us. As loud as the biggest drum in the circus, the sound of Carlo Harris’ booming voice filled the tent as he excitedly said, “Roll up! Roll up! It’s the best show you’ve ever seen! We’ve got many one of a kind acts!”. I knew this was where I belonged. Suddenly, a hush descended over the tent and I felt the crowd collectively hold their breath. Dan Clark rushed out into the ring and flying around the ring like a bird. Beside me, I felt the breeze of cool air as the horses rushed into the ring. They were the most beautiful, amazing creatures I had ever seen? Suddenly, I felt all my nerves and anxiety fade away. Out of nowhere another horse trotted in. Then another soon after. However, something was not right. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck spike and everything seemed to slow down. Worried that something horrible was about to occur, I peered past the entrance flap of the tent where I could see someone. Someone from a distant life, looming in the glow of a lantern. Some I thought I’d never see again.... lex.
Nigerian storytelling has historically been an oral tradition. Historically the stories were passed down and told by word of mouth, spoken rather than written.
