Side story 2: How did Babida become a lumberjack? (Read part 1)
Babida P.O.V
My name is Babida. Well, this is what my uncle Doda decided I would be called when he found me abandoned in the woods in a rattan basket covered with a blanket to keep me warm. I was crying loudly and thus caught the attention of my uncle who was cutting off logs. I was two months old when the woods cutter came to pick me up and cradle me so that I would stop sobbing and I did. Since then he became my father…and my mother. However, he always preferred that I called him uncle Doda and I never asked him why. He revealed to me the truth about how he became my parent when he was on his sickbed and was suffering from lingering diabetes. I was a sixteen-year-old teenager back then and I had started learning from him how to fell trees and make logs. Seeing that death would soon overcome his diminishing strength, uncle Doda made me promise that I would take care of his long-time business and pass on the heritage to my son if the ancestors were kind enough to give me one. So while my uncle stayed at home, fighting against his illness, I went to the forest with the heaviest of axes that could ever be. A Herculean steel axe that the ill man had given me when I became his apprentice. My uncle told me that this was how he became powerful when he began logging with his deceased father. And he was right. In the beginning, I thought he was a bit too harsh with me. I missed several times to hurt myself because the axe was so heavy that I often lost control. The tool weighed five kilograms, which was twice the normal weight. But after a couple of weeks, I was able to lift the axe with one hand and hit the hell out of the wood that dislocated in multiple fragments. Ultimately uncle Doda died and I was torn and devoured by infinite grief. I stopped for months going to the bushes and cutting trees. Life was meaningless to me and I became weak spiritually and physically. Indeed I was so affected by the disappearance of the only man who counted on me that I couldn't lift the axe in the air again and when I tried, I failed to break the wood and I almost harmed myself. However, something happened in the Batang empire and helped me heal from my depression. A Monster of unbelievable measurements came to attack our land and hence threatened my existence and that of our people. The Emperor His Majesty Batang IV called on all of the children of the fatherland to defend what we had the dearest. I remembered my uncle who sacrificed his life for me and I thought about doing an action that would make him proud of me where he was. And I knew he cherished the land more than anything. So I took the Herculean steel axe that he had gifted me and went to combat against the villain, a giant bird that was widely known as the Monster of the forbidden mountain. A cliff that was adjacent to the north border of the Batang empire. I hence went to the battlefield and though I got severely wounded, I was able to get back up on my feet after I struck a deal with the ancestors to heal me in exchange for the harnessing of my land for a decade as I would leave. Thereupon the forefathers repaired me and I was able to decimate the beast by cutting off his head with the sharp blade of my axe. His Majesty Batang IV rewarded me with the most valuable civilian medal after I brought to him the head of the evil creature on a silver platter. Then I left the land of my ancestors and went to the neighboring country, the Batumba empire. When I arrived there, no one knew about me and it was fine because I could walk unbothered and be myself. However, I needed a job and the only thing I had learned to do was to cut the wood into logs. I, therefore, resumed the business my late uncle had passed on to me. In a few months, I became the most famous and successful lumberjack in the Batumba empire. Though I was doing well in my host country, I missed the land of the Batang people. Unfortunately, I couldn't go back before a decade had expired. The time was long and endless and I was aging. Nevertheless, ten years finally passed and I was twenty-seven years old back then. I had already established myself in the Batumba empire, so I stayed for another four years. But when I was thirty-one, melancholy almost killed me. I couldn't bear any longer the weight of being away from my fatherland. So overnight, while people in the Batumba empire were sleeping, I quit discreetly and arrived after a two-day journey by the afternoon at the west gate of the Batang empire, Okala. I was of course older than when I left the land, hence none of the imperial sentinels recognize me as the national hero that I was. Some of them were young and certainly had never heard about me. They checked me and found nothing alarming. So they allowed me to cross the border and step inside the land of the Batang people. I was now back in my fatherland after over a decade abroad. I was moved as I thought about uncle Doda. I was shaky and some tears came out and wetted my cheeks. I then continued my way forward to the south where my uncle's house was based. By the evening I reached home and the garden was sparkling. I was pleased with the ancestors who had well maintained the property since my departure. I stepped into the wooden cabin and it smelled extremely nice. Everything was perfectly aligned. So tired that I was, I fell on the bed and dozed till the next morning. I was woken up by the beautiful songs of the birds that were perched over the branches of the trees around the domain. I went to shower and then dressed in a white boubou that my uncle used to wear when he wasn't going to the forest to cut some trees. Ready, I opened the door to step outside and was amazed even more by the beauty of the garden that was shining amazingly thanks to the sun's rays. I decided to go for a stroll in the center of the imperial city, Ekule and saw people happy and worry-free about the future, moving up and down the renovated streets. I was also glad that no one could recognize me and I could hence enjoy the eye-catching view and architecture. And when I had had enough, I returned to my house and thought about what I would do now that I was back. As I thought about the question, it became more and more obvious to me that I had to carry on with the business of my late uncle, that was to say, felling trees and cutting them into logs. Yes, I was going to be a lumberjack forever. No matter what I did to change it, I couldn't succeed. The wood cutting was all I knew to do and it was going to remain so.
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