FROM KAIMA’S DIARY
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Once upon a time, there lived a young girl named Zana. Zana’s heart beat in rhythm with the melodies that surrounded her—the whispering leaves, the babbling brook, and the distant songs of birds. But it was the music of the violin that truly enchanted her.
Zana’s father, a humble woodworker, crafted violins with love and care. Each instrument held a piece of his soul, and he taught Zana to play from an early age. She would sit by the hearth, her small fingers dancing across the strings, weaving tales of love, loss, and longing.
One day, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Zana wandered into the forest. The air was thick with the scent of pine, and the leaves crunched under her feet. She followed a faint melody, drawn toward its source.
There, beneath an ancient oak tree, sat a mysterious figure—a man with silver hair and eyes like the midnight sky. His violin sang, and Zana’s heart swelled. She approached him, and he looked up, his fingers never leaving the strings. “You love music,” he said, his voice a gentle breeze. “But do you know its true power?” Zana shook her head, captivated by the haunting notes. “Tell me.”
The man’s eyes held a thousand stories. “Music can heal wounds, bridge worlds, and mend broken hearts. But it can also break curses and unlock hidden doors.”
Zana listened, spellbound. “What curse do you speak of?”
He lowered the violin, revealing a scar on his palm. “Long ago, I loved a woman—a fellow musician. But envy consumed her, and she struck a deal with the Fates. They cursed me to wander the earth, seeking redemption through music.” Zana’s heart ached. “And can you break the curse?”
The man smiled, and the moonlight danced in his eyes. “Only with a love purer than any melody. A love that transcends time and space.”
Zana thought of her father’s violins, of the way they resonated with emotion. She thought of the villagers who gathered in the square, their voices rising in harmony. And she thought of the stranger beside her, whose music held both sorrow and hope. “I will help you,” Zana vowed. “Together, we’ll compose a symphony that defies fate.”
And so, they played—the man with his silver violin and Zana with her wooden one. Their music echoed through valleys and across mountains, touching hearts and healing souls. They travelled far and wide, seeking the key to their love—a note, a chord, a whispered confession. As seasons changed, so did their composition. Spring brought tender melodies, summer blazed with passion, autumn wept, and winter whispered secrets. And always, the curse lingered, threatening to tear them apart.
But Zana’s love was unwavering. She kissed the man’s scarred palm, and their music soared—a crescendo of devotion that shattered the curse. The Fates wept, and the silver-haired man transformed into stardust, merging with the night sky.
Ladies and Gentlemen
Life opens with a flourish—an overture of innocence and curiosity. We are born into a world of infinite possibilities, our hearts beating in sync with the universe. Remember those early notes—the laughter of childhood, the taste of raindrops, the thrill of discovery, the bonds of family and friends, the kindness of the universe? Cherish them, for they form the foundation of your melody.
✍️ Chikaima Zita Unachukwu
