The old woman had been intrigued from the moment Ego offered to carry her firewood.
Now, after listening to the young widow speak, intrigue had blossomed into admiration.
She found herself wanting to know everything about the remarkable young woman sitting before her.
So Ego told her story.
She spoke of her lonely childhood beneath a father who never truly accepted her because she had been born a girl.
She spoke of her mother's quiet endurance.
She spoke of meeting Nnanna, of falling deeply in love, of the years they spent together, and of the unbearable grief that followed his sudden death.
She hid nothing.
When she finished, silence settled over the hut.
Only the crackling fire could be heard.
The old woman's eyes glistened.
"My daughter..."
"I now understand why your heart refuses another marriage."
She sighed softly.
"You were blessed with a rare man."
"Many husbands would have married another wife the moment they discovered they had no children."
"Others would have taken mistresses."
"But yours remained faithful."
She smiled gently.
"Such men are not common."
She studied Ego thoughtfully before continuing.
"I must also commend your courage."
"Many young women would rather depend upon a man than struggle alone."
"You chose the harder road."
Ego lowered her gaze.
"It has not been easy."
"There are days when I wonder whether I made the right choice."
She forced a faint smile.
"But at least I answer to no one."
"No one reminds me every day that I have no child."
"No one insults me because my womb remained empty."
The last words escaped as little more than whispers.
Fresh tears rolled quietly down her cheeks.
She made no attempt to stop them.
Sometimes grief demanded release.
After a few moments, she wiped her face with the edge of her wrapper and drew a deep breath.
Then she smiled.
"Nne..."
"Enough about me."
She looked directly into the old woman's eyes.
"Tell me about yourself."
"Where are you from?"
"And why do you live alone in the middle of this forest?"
The old woman became strangely quiet.
For several moments she simply stared into the flames.
At last she smiled—a smile so innocent it almost seemed childlike.
"I once lived in a town very far from—"
She stopped abruptly.
Ego had suddenly lifted her head.
"Nne..."
"Did you hear that?"
The old woman frowned.
"Hear what?"
"It sounds like something is coming toward the hut."
She turned toward the doorway.
"I think it's behind us."
The old woman merely chuckled.
"There is nothing to fear."
Before Ego could ask another question, a large shadow crossed the entrance.
A heartbeat later, a familiar dog bounded into the hut.
Without hesitation it ran straight toward Ego.
Its tail wagged so furiously that its whole body shook with excitement.
It whined happily and began licking her feet.
Ego gasped.
Then laughed aloud.
"You!"
She knelt immediately.
"So you finally remembered who saved your life."
Holding one of its paws, she examined the injured leg.
The herbal dressing was still in place.
The swelling had already begun to subside.
She gently rubbed behind its ears.
"At last..."
"My ungrateful friend has learned some manners."
The dog answered by licking her hand.
The old woman watched them with quiet amusement.
"Ego."
"Yes, Nne?"
Without looking up, Ego continued stroking the dog's head.
"I take it the two of you have already met."
Ego smiled.
"We certainly have."
"But..."
She looked around curiously.
"Who exactly is this fellow?"
"My dog."
The old woman pointed toward the animal.
"Her name is Ogologo."
Ego blinked.
"Ogologo?"
She laughed.
"That is a rather unusual name for a dog."
"How did she come by it?"
The old woman's eyes softened as memories returned.
"I found her many years ago."
"I had gone into the forest to gather wild fruits."
"As I worked, I kept hearing a puppy crying somewhere nearby."
"At first I ignored the sound."
"But it would not stop."
"So I followed it."
She smiled faintly.
"I eventually discovered her trapped inside a deep pit."
"She was filthy."
"Exhausted."
"Starving."
"She had probably fallen in during the night."
"The walls were too steep for her to climb."
The old woman paused.
"I wanted to climb down and rescue her."
"But if I entered the pit..."
"There would have been no one to pull either of us out."
"I considered lowering a branch."
"But she was too frightened to understand."
She chuckled softly.
"Then I noticed something."
"Every time she jumped..."
"Loose sand fell into the pit."
"That gave me an idea."
"I began pushing more earth into the hole."
"Slowly."
"Very slowly."
"She cried terribly at first."
"As though I intended to bury her alive."
"But after a while..."
"She realized what I was doing."
"She stopped crying."
"Instead, she climbed higher each time the mound of earth rose."
The old woman's face brightened.
"Eventually..."
"The pit became shallow enough."
"With one final leap..."
"She sprang free."
Ego smiled warmly.
"And then?"
"Oh..."
"She was so weak she could barely stand."
"I carried her all the way home."
"Her fur was falling out."
"She slept almost an entire day."
"I honestly believed she would die."
"But the gods spared her."
"We have been together ever since."
Ego laughed.
"So why call her Ogologo?"
The old woman smiled mischievously.
"Because rescuing her took such a very long time."
They both laughed.
The little hut suddenly felt much warmer.
After the laughter faded, Ego looked affectionately at the dog.
"That was a very kind thing to do."
The old woman's smile faded ever so slightly.
"I was still a better person in those days."
She gently scratched Ogologo behind the ears.
"And I desperately needed company."
A brief silence followed.
Then she looked at Ego.
"Now tell me."
"How did the two of you meet?"
Ego recounted the day's events.
She described searching for herbs deep within the forest.
Finding the injured dog.
Discovering the wound.
And finally giving up nearly all the precious herbs she had gathered to save its life.
She ended the story by pretending to frown at Ogologo.
"After everything I did..."
"She simply limped away without even saying goodbye."
The old woman laughed heartily.
She called the dog closer and carefully examined its bandaged leg.
"The swelling has gone down already."
She nodded approvingly.
Then she looked at Ego with deep gratitude.
"My daughter..."
"May the gods of our ancestors reward your kindness."
"May they grant you long life."
"May your path always lead toward blessings."
Ego smiled modestly.
"It was nothing."
"My mother always said that kindness is how we repay the gods for the gift of life."
"We were given life freely."
"The least we can do is make life easier for someone else."
She gently stroked Ogologo's head.
"A little kindness can change the world more than people realize."
The old woman slowly nodded.
"Your mother was a very wise woman."
After a thoughtful silence, Ego asked,
"But how did Ogologo end up alone in the forest today?"
The old woman sighed.
"We went together to gather firewood."
"As usual, she spotted a squirrel."
"And as usual..."
"She chased after it."
"I waited for her."
"When she failed to return, I assumed she had gone home without me."
"She has done that before."
She shook her head sadly.
"I never imagined she had wandered into a trap."
Ego smiled reassuringly.
"Then thank the gods."
"She managed to escape."
"And I happened to find her."
"It could have ended very differently."
"A leopard..."
"A hunter..."
"Or simple loss of blood."
She gently tapped the herbal dressing.
"This poultice will keep the wound clean."
"Within a few days, she will be running through the forest again."
The old woman smiled with relief.
Ogologo rested her head upon Ego's lap, closed her eyes contentedly, and sighed.
For reasons neither woman yet understood...
The dog had already chosen where her loyalty belonged.