WITH WATERY EYES

As with any usual day, Karalana encountered another draining experience. Following a demanding schedule, he arrived home exhausted, hungry, and yearning for solace; his wants overpowered him.

To his surprise, Erie had a hidden surprise that would profoundly alter Karalana's life for the better.

Irie was the first cousin of Karalana, whom he was staying with; unlike Karalana, he was a full-time farmer and earned his living from crop sales.

Karalana believed in doing something new and developing his skills, so he'd always stick to his hustles, and this day was no different. To his dismay, he shared his shortcoming with his cousin, Irie, and fought over it.

"I thought you'd understand, Irie," Karalana expressed, disappointment evident in his voice. "I'm trying to grow and explore new opportunities, but it feels like you don't see the value in what I'm doing."

Karalana was shocked by the present circumstances and disowned his cousin from his heart.

After the fiery exchange with his cousin, Karalana, fueled by frustration, snatched his bag and stormed out, fueled by a resolve to never return.

Unfamiliar with life beyond the village farm settlement, he pressed on towards the bus station, repeatedly muttering words that reflected his inner turmoil.

Little did Karalana realize, in his haste, that he had forgotten the fare for that unplanned journey to the cities.

Karalana's roots traced back to the fertile fields of Akropong in eastern Ghana, specifically the quaint Apired village.

Guided by the hands of Andrew Ini and Amencia Ini, his parents, Karalana's upbringing unfolded against the backdrop of Apired village. Occasional holidays with Mr. and Mrs. Ini granted him glimpses of the bustling cities, a contrast to the serene rural life he knew.

Now that he was a grown man at the age of twenty, Karalana found himself grappling with the recent fallout from a heated altercation with his cousins—the only family he had left after his parents passed away.

The shock of this rupture seems irreparable.

Lost in contemplation, he ambled towards the asphalt road, unable to rein in his thoughts.

Recent memories plague him, especially the jarring sight earlier of his cousin Irie entangled with his girlfriend on the bed they once purchased together and calling him a looser—a painful revelation that cut deep. As he brooded over these emotions, a sudden scream of his name pierced the air from behind.

"Kini!"

Kini, a shortened version of his name, Karalana Kia Ini, turns to identify the source. It was Jevaun, one of Kini's closest friends. Recognizing the familiar voice, Kini halted, waiting for Jevaun to catch up.

"Where are you headed in such a rush, Kini? I thought I wouldn't even catch up with you after your cousin told me you weren't coming back."

The mere mention of his cousin's name caused Kini to block his ears from hearing more when Jevaun was speaking; his heart turned bitter and furious.

"I despise the mention of that brainless wall excuse of a person, let alone a cousin." He said it inwardly.

Throughout, Kini stared at his friend, not fully grasping what was being said due to the mixed feelings within him. However, he sensed Jevaun's concern, evident in the friend's hurried attempt to catch up.

With lazy eyes, Kini let out a long sigh and locked eyes with Jevaun.

He stooped a bit, as if contemplating what to say, acknowledging that he hadn't caught much of Jevaun's words, except for the initial few.Before he could say a word, Jevaun tapped his fist softly on Kini's shoulder in a flash.

"Talk to me, man!" he retorted.

Jevaun was concerned about his friend's state; he worried he might do something silly, knowing all he was capable of and how hurt he was now. There was nothing he could do to change anything at that rate. All he could do was listen to him and be there for him.

Karalana did not want the company of anyone; he wanted some alone time, so he sent his friend back.

"I...l..."

Kini found it hard to reply to J's idioms.

"I have your contact number; as long as you don't change it, I'll surely reach you." Kini said these words with watery eyes, a mix of sorrow and gratitude seeping through.

Jevaun understood the most, so Jevaun, aware of Karalana's lifestyle, proceeded to hug his friend, feeling the weight of concern in his chest. He then slid something small into Kini's pocket.

Karalana was too disturbed to even notice it—where he'll go from here and how he'll fare is left to fate.

Karalana continued his advancement to the station, and Jevaun stood to watch his friend. Somehow, he couldn't contain himself any longer, so he followed him quietly and kept him company. Kini wanted to tear up, but he couldn't do it in front of his friend, which was getting hard to contain.

"Go back; I am alright; I can handle it, trust me."

Jevaun shook his head. "Kini trust you! You don't have to be brave all the time, and I didn't ask for anything, so just walk and think through whatever you want to do next." Jevaun was busy convincing him when Kini suddenly stopped walking.

The sounds of the city surround them—honking horns, distant chatter, and the rhythmic steps of passersby. The air turned thick with a mix of exhaust fumes and the scent of street food. The sensory overload made it hard for Kini to focus on anything but the whirlwind of emotions within him.

Glaring at J, he reasoned within himself: Could it be that my friend understands me more than my own blood does? He drew in and out, blinked, and resumed his movements.

"Ask J," Karalana insisted. "Okay, if you say so," Jevaun assures. "Tell me what really happened this time, because this is the first time you've decided to retreat."

Holding back tears, he swallowed, "Jevaun, Irie," and swallowed again, "he is no longer my relative; I have disowned him and whatever we share."

Jevaun tilted his eyes. "He has been tripping with my girl, and only God knows for how long it's been for J."

Makes sense, Jevaun hung his lips in awe. He could really sleep with his cousin's girlfriend; he is despicable. "Didn't you beat him up?" J suggested it, clenching his fist.

The city's sounds envelop them—the distant hum of traffic, the occasional laughter, and the scent of roasted chestnuts from a street vendor wafting through the air. Amidst this sensory tapestry, Kini wrestles with his emotions, the bitter taste of betrayal lingering in his mouth.

Karalana shook his head. "We both had our share of punches. Anyway, I just wanted to leave and not see more of that disgusting scene of him and her together."

Jevaun, increasingly remorseful about his friend's mistreatment, shared Kini's frustration with the distasteful words Erie used. Pausing before quoting Irie's idioms, Kini continued, "It's what he said after calling me a loser, "Doesn't it repay for your crime? So, Karalana, how does it make you feel? Do you relish that sensation, you murderer, hmm?"

Amidst the city's constant hum, the weight of the conversation hangs heavy. The air was charged with tension. The distant sounds of a street performer's guitar blend with the city ambiance, creating an emotional backdrop.

Jevaun was utterly surprised by Erie's perspective. He was completely unaware of the incident and remained uncertain about its accuracy. Because Karalana had never mentioned anything about his mother's death, not even accidentally.