Oluchi was born on a night when the heavens seemed to celebrate her arrival. The stars shone brightly, and the air was crisp with promise. Her parents, Okonkwo and Amaka, rejoiced at her birth, unaware of the extraordinary destiny that awaited their child. From the moment she came into the world, it was clear Oluchi was different. Her limbs were unusually long for a newborn, and her cries, though strong, carried an air of defiance—as though she was ready to take on the world.
As Oluchi grew, her uniqueness became more evident. By the age of three, she was taller than children twice her age. Her mother saw it as a blessing, often saying, "The gods have stretched you toward the heavens, my daughter." But the villagers whispered behind their backs. Some said she was cursed, while others viewed her as unnatural.
By the time Oluchi was five, the whispers had turned into outright mockery. Children at school refused to play with her, and adults exchanged uncomfortable glances whenever she walked by. "How can a girl be so tall?" they would mutter. "She's more of a man than a maiden."
Her siblings, who were shorter and more conventionally attractive, treated her with disdain. Chika, her elder sister, often teased her mercilessly. "You'll never find a husband," she would say, laughing. "Who would want to marry a walking tree?"
Oluchi tried to hide her pain, but it became harder as she grew older. She often cried herself to sleep, wondering why she was so different. Her parents were her only solace. Her father, a proud and kind-hearted man, would say, "Oluchi, my daughter, you are like the iroko tree—majestic and strong. Don't let their words break you." Her mother would sit by her bed at night, singing lullabies and reminding her of her worth.
One day, when Oluchi was twelve, an incident occurred that changed her forever. The village was hosting its annual yam festival, a time of joy and celebration. Oluchi, desperate to fit in, decided to join the festivities. She dressed in her best attire and tried to mingle with the crowd.
But as she walked into the village square, the laughter began. "Look at her!" someone shouted. "The giant wants to dance!" The crowd erupted in mockery, and Oluchi froze, humiliated. Tears streamed down her face as she ran into the forest, vowing never to attend another village event.
That night, as her mother comforted her, Oluchi whispered, "Mama, why did the gods make me this way? I wish I could be normal."
Amaka held her close and said, "You are not meant to be like everyone else, my daughter. One day, the world will see the beauty and strength that I see in you."