The sweet scent of wildflowers lingered in the air, carried by gentle breezes that seemed to weave tales of distant lands. Houses, each with its own story etched into its timeworn walls, stood in harmonious arrangement along cobbled pathways. Its walls, crafted from locally sourced stone or weathered wood, bore the marks of time, a thatched roof crowned the structure, its golden hues blending seamlessly with the surrounding landscape, wooden windows adorned with wooden shutters peered out onto the world. The village square was a spacious, open area surrounded by charming buildings with quaint facades. Benches and sturdy wooden tables were strategically placed beneath the shade of towering, ancient trees, offering a respite for weary travelers and a place for neighbors to catch up. The village square was a stage for a myriad of activities that brought the community together.
I observed as Papa drove us into the village, a place we’ve yearned to be since we were very little, but thanks to Uncle Andrea who convinced Papa to take us to the village during our summer holiday. Here we are in a serene haven of nature’s beauty prepared to explore every bit of Urhomehe, a rural area situated in the city of Benin. Osborn, my junior brother seemed more excited than I am, back in the house he told me how he would follow Grandpa for hunting which I tried convincing him that it was impossible, but yet he used the whole day dreaming about his fantasy. I was worried if civilization takes place it may disrupts the serene environment, I immediately scorned myself for thinking like an illiterate.
Papa Peugeot 506 stopped in front of thatched roofs, whitewashed walls, and wooden shutters lend a rustic charm to the buildings. Each house tells a story of generations past, with some adorned with intricate carvings. Grandparents must have built this many mini-houses inside the large compound in expectant of many grandchildren. Cousins I had only known through occasional phone calls were now real, they helped carried our luggage and food items, papa had instructed mama to put together. Grandma stretched her arms wide open to embrace I and Osborn, Oba van iye meaning ‘good afternoon mother’ we both chorused. I almost suffocated in her embrace, just realizing how notably short she was, with my head nestled against her shoulder. Grandpa greeted us warmly, facing Osborn ‘Vbee oye he “meaning how are you” he replied, oy’ ese “meaning I am fine”.
My parents left the next day, leaving us in the care of our grandparents. House chores were shared according to age, the younger ones did minor chores, I was given a portion of the yard to sweep, close to the hut I spent the previous night with my older female cousins, while Osborn stayed with grandma. Adesuwa!, Efe beckoned on me to see a large pot, which cover was immovable which made me taught of hidden treasures. We had our bath in a small building inside the compound, and took the breakfast grandma has energetically prepared. I spent the afternoon with my cousins sharing knowledge and having fun alongside. The night was fast approaching, after dinner grandma told us some folktale stories. Grandpa promised to take us to the village river to learn how to swim, indeed I was very happy, I anticipated morning impatiently so that grandpa can fulfill his promise.
The village river was a shimmering ribbon of life that meandered gracefully, Its banks were lined with lush vegetation—weeping willows that dipped their graceful branches into the water. The river's surface was a canvas of rippling patterns, sunlight dancing upon its undulating currents like a delicate ballet. Its depths concealed a world of secrets, where fish darted like shimmering jewels and water creatures navigated the unseen realms below. The villagers had always spoken of the river in hushed tones, for it was said to possess an unsettling power—a power that would occasionally choose to claim outsiders who dared to tread its waters, grandpa said as we stared blankly at it. But don’t be scared you are all son of the soil, that statement calmed my clouded mind. Grandpa weathered hands cradled the grandchildren's small fingers as they waded into the shallows. He spoke in soothing tones, his voice a blend of encouragement and reassurance. "Remember, the river is like a friend," he said, his eyes twinkling with warmth. "It'll hold you up if you let it."As the water lapped gently at their feet, their toes sinking into the soft riverbed, grandpa guided each grandchild through the fundamentals of swimming—kicking their legs, moving their arms, and finding their balance. But as my skin met the water's embrace, an unexpected transformation took hold. The joy that had painted my face moments ago was replaced by a look of bewilderment. Tiny, red welts began to blossom on her skin, the river's touch igniting a strange reaction. Confusion gripped my young heart as the discomfort intensified, my arms breaking out in an itchy rash.
I was rushed back to the hut, little Osborn was crying alongside with me. I had mild itching when I came in contact with water which subsides minutes later, but this seems everlasting. Grandpa began to prepare a soothing herbal infusion. His fingers expertly measured dried chamomile flowers, a gentle herb known for its calming properties. Grandpa explained to us how chamomile had been used for centuries to soothe skin irritations and ease discomfort. He also added a pinch of calendula petals, another herbal gem celebrated for its anti-inflammatory qualities. Grandma rubbed me with palm oil all over. My parents came the next day to pick us up after hearing of the incident, I felt disappointed at the crippled enjoyment.
Papa took me to the teaching hospital in Benin where I was diagnosed of Aquagenic Urticaria. The doctor's words were laden with explanations and medical jargon, but the message was clear, we learned that aquagenic urticaria was rare. The medical condition you are suffering is called "Aquagenic Urticaria," also known as "Water Allergy." However, it's important to note that the term "water allergy" can be misleading, as it's not an allergy to water itself but rather a hypersensitivity reaction of the skin to water. People with aquagenic urticaria can experience hives and skin irritation when their skin comes into contact with water, regardless of its temperature, the doctor explained. Its exact cause is not well understood. It is often managed through various treatment strategies, such as antihistamines and other medications, to help alleviate the symptoms. Various types of water can trigger this reaction, including rainwater, sweat, tears, and even their own saliva. Drinking water typically does not cause a reaction because it does not come into direct contact with the skin, the doctor said. He advised I applied petroleum jelly before showering, wore clothes that draws moisture away from the body, take short showers and a shower schedule would be given to me. Never in my life I thought water could be cruel.
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