The bookstore was dead silent as he walked in, his pace fast like a man on a mission, which, today, was to get the book he had promised his daughter months back. After searching the whole of Abuja but not finding it anywhere, it wasn’t until he came to Ibadan that he finally found that they had it here, at this bookstore–his best bookstore for as long as he could remember.

This place brought back memories—coming here with his father as a young child to buy books and browsing through the shelves, unsure of which to pick amidst myriads of books.

“Hey, Mike! When did you come into town?”

“Yesterday. I came to check up on mom,” he smiled at Mrs. Gbade, the woman behind the counter who had looked up from the book she was reading as he entered. He had known her for about twenty years now, in this same bookstore where she worked. And sometimes, he couldn’t help but think that the reason she works here is to be able to read books for free. There was no time he came here that he didn’t meet her reading.

The silence was interrupted as a group of kids came to the counter, arguing noisily amongst themselves.

“Ma’am, when are more titles from this author going to arrive? You only have two, purchased by others,” a girl amongst them said to Mrs. Gbade, pointing to the lucky two who had bought the books.

Mike turned and looked at the children who had the book in their hands. His heart skipped, lost in thoughts, and drowned in strong emotions.

“Mike! Mike!”

“Yes?” He jolted as Mrs. Gbade’s voice brought him back to the present.

“I was telling them that your grandfather wrote the books…” Mrs. Gbade was saying.

“Oh!” He smiled softly and turned to the children, seeing the same look on their faces that others usually had whenever they heard that.

“Really?” One of them finally spoke in awe. Mike nodded.

“Your grandfather is such a good writer; his books are so relevant now as I’m sure they had been in his time,” another commented.

Mike soon found himself drawn into a lengthy conversation with them, saying what little he knew about his grandfather when he was alive, his writings, and more.

“Wow! He’s such a great man,” one of the kids said after everything.

“I wish I had met him, even though, once,” another said.

“I have to go now,” Mike announced and got the book that brought him here.

His mind was heavy as he left. His father had died about five years ago, and nearly everyone had forgotten him except his close relatives. However, his grandfather died about twenty years ago but holds so much relevance, and his name still brings prestige to the family.

“Truly, authors never die!” Mike affirmed, turning his thoughts towards the several manuscripts he had written and seeing more reasons why they needed to be published.

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