The Shore's Secret.

Well, it just so happened that my father disappeared, as at the time, I was barely six years of age. People talked a lot about it then; some even said that his boat overturned and that the sea had taken him away without a sign. I disturbed my mom a lot, but then, she never gave any response, only that deep stare she wore anytime I asked.

*“Where did my father go?” I asked her one evening, trying to avoid her eyes. I don't want that same stare she has always been giving.

She looked at me and sighed. "The tides had taken him," she said.

“Is he coming back?” I asked, wanting to be reassured.

Silence followed, then she started humming a song I can't seem to grasp.

A few years later, a letter came by, and it carried my name. The paper was dirty and rough, and the handwriting wasn't in any way familiar: if you seek to see him, go to the distant shore, where the waves write the names of those that are lost. That was all the letter contained: no address, no name, no signature... Nothing.

I didn't know who to ask. I didn't want to show my mom. Not only that, but I thought of visiting someone old and wise. So, I went all the way to meet this very old woman I do help with certain things. She read through it with the aid of her glasses and looked at me. She just shook her head without uttering a word. I decided to push things; maybe she didn't want to open up on some certain things to me, so I asked her, "Who would have written this?"

She looked me in the eyes, more like she was trying to find the best way to put her words, then she said, "who knows, maybe, just maybe the sea has hands." That was all she said, and that left me more confused.

That left me worried, I couldn't throw the letter away; instead, I kept it. One night, I thought things through. I picked up the letter again and read. As I repeated these words, it was more as if it was beckoning me to make a move, to come, to stand up. So, very early in the morning, I picked up a few things, and made the way to the coast.

The road wasn't a smooth one. I had to go through small villages while navigating my way through cliffs. What pushed me was that silence in my childhood. I ran out of funds, I couldn't buy anything or eat anymore, and I didn't even know maybe I was just chasing after a lie. But still, I kept going.

After a few days, I found the shore. I looked around, and there were a lot of empty houses, or so they looked. The ride was different, so calm was the sea. I moved a bit closer and noticed something. Each time the waters were back, letters would appear on the wet sand as if written by some invisible hand. It would appear for a moment, and then the wave would come and take them back.

It happened again, and I went very close to it, trying to make out the names.

“Are you here for a name?” I heard a voice said.

I was shocked; I turned almost immediately to come face-to-face with this old woman. Was she there before? Didn't I notice her? I couldn't help but wonder. She sat down by the fire, folding her hands. Her voice was too steady and calm for that of an old woman.

“Yes, for my father, Ajasin Adekunle.” I said.

She looked me in the eye and nodded. "Well, there are a lot of names; some of those names belong and some do not. The sea borrowed them."

I wasn't sure what she was saying; I didn't even understand it. Well, maybe it wasn't meant for me to understand. Then I heard her speak again. "Move closer."

I moved closer to the water as names began to surface again. Then I saw it, different names: John, Aisha, George, Kola,Tunde...then they disappeared with the waves again. And each time my heart beats hard.

I waited more, and it. Amen again, this time with my father's name, very clear, and it came alone: Ajasin Adekunle.

“Ajasin Adekunle?” I shouted. I bent down and pressed my fingers into those names as if trying to hold it. I was still there when the wave came by again and swept it off.

Furthermore, I just knelt down there crying, not the quiet cry; this was more like a wailing. I cried, and everything in me shook. Even though I didn't get to know what happened nor able to know how his last minute went or what his last words were, but then, his name is enough proof that he's been remembered, that he hasn't vanished in silence.

I knelt down and cried my eyes out, then I heard the tides coming with a different rush and sound this time. I wanted to get up and run, but my knees feels to weak, and I just stay glued. I just knelt there and closed my eye. When it came, it washed over me, and then silence. I opened my eyes to see another name right beside me. Guess whose name it was.... Ajasin Samuel. My name.

“Why, how come?” I whispered to the sea.

The woman just burst into laugher, the kind of laugh that has both joy and grief in it. Then she looked up and said, "Beyond those that are lost and gone, the shore also remembers those who came and looked."

I almost burst into laughter too, but then the sound there was different. Even my voice sounds different to my own hearing. I watched as new names were being shown and erased.

When it came again to erase the names, I picked up a stick and pressed hard into the sand to carve my father's name. Immediately I was done, the wave came; it couldn't erase it all, just a little got erased, and guess what, new names couldn't appear. But then, I knew it was just a matter of time. By the time it comes and goes a few times, it will get erased. But at least, for now, it's there.

“What will you do?” the woman asked.

I wasn't sure I knew whatever it is she meant, but then I responded, “I will carry it.”

She looked up at me and nodded.

At the end, I picked myself up and left. Everything seemed to be closing up on me as I made my way back. Obviously, I still have no grave to visit, there are still no parting words, and I still don't know what happened to my father. But I have his name, a little proof that he was known and has walked this earth. I also have that knowledge that even I too was seen.

I walked all the way to my home without looking back once. And behind me, the waves kept writing and erasing different names. I remember my mom said, "The tides had taken him." Now I've seen that there are things that the tide gives back too, even if just for the length of a wave.

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