The Village of Palms
The Village of Palms
The village of Umuode had always lived under the quiet protection of palm trees.
They stood tall above the red earth, their long leaves whispering whenever the wind passed through them. For generations, the palms had been more than trees. They were part of life itself.
Palm oil came from them. Palm wine flowed from their trunks. Children played beneath them while elders gathered in the cool shade to settle disputes and share stories of the past.
The people of Umuode believed something deeply rooted in their hearts:
As long as the palm trees remained, the village would never lose its spirit.
But time was changing.
The groves that once covered the land were disappearing one by one.
Roads were cutting through the farms. Factories were spreading from the cities. Young people were leaving home to chase opportunity elsewhere.
Now, only one palm tree remained.
It stood alone in the old market square, tall and stubborn against the sky.
The last palm tree of Umuode.
