New Year in Nigeria was always an event to behold.

From December 31st, twelve a.m., most streets of the country would be littered with people selling all kinds of fireworks, popularly called 'bangers' or 'knockouts'. Children and adults alike would then perch on road corners lighting these fireworks and throwing into the air to create a loud, joyful noise. This would last for hours, well into dawn before starting again at sunset.

Ihiala, Anambra State was no different. As I walked along the street to my grandparents house, I watched as little children chased one another with threats of 'I'll burn you with it' or 'Bia, let's throw it together'.

"Auntie, don't you want to buy 'banger?' "A little girl asked me, pointing to a store less than five feet away from where we stood.

I began to shake my head, stopping when I remembered my promise to my baby brother to get him one of these knockouts.

"Okay. How much is one?"

Excited, the girl drew me closer to the store where I saw a middle aged woman seated.

"Welcome my dear. Which one do you want? We have different sizes oo. Check." The woman gestured to a big table filled with different shapes, sizes and colours of the famed 'bangers'.

I pointed to a brightly coloured stick. "I want two of this one, it's N100 abi?" I asked, clutching the N200 I held as change from the market.

"Yes, it is. Chioma," The woman called the little girl who had resumed playing, "come and pack these ones for Auntie."

"Thank you Ma." I said, waving to the little girl and her playmates as I continued home.

*****

"Feechi, thank you for the knockouts. I like them." My brother sang, as he prepared for the countdown happening in one hours, twenty six minutes. He had just finished having his bath, in order to wipe the sleep away. Having eaten hours ago, his bedtime was long overdue.

I sighed. "You're welcome...again. Anyway, I can see you're ready for the new year." I teased, looking at the heap of fireworks at his feet. "How much did mummy give you?"

"Ah, not mummy oo. Mummy said it is too dangerous for me. Grandma gave me and Chibuzor 1000 to buy them." Ebuka replied, gathering them closer to him.

"Oh okay oo. You'll allow me light one abi?" I asked, ready to hear 'No'.

My nine year old sibling managed to look thoughtful for a moment before answering, "Yes. I'll give you one of the ones you bought to light."

I nodded my head, and reminded him to call me when it was almost time.

"What if you're sleeping?" He innocently inquired.

"I doubt that. Don't forget oo." I said, entering my room.

Five minutes later, I was laid on my slightly scattered bed talking to...

"Ayo leave me jare. Shebi you said I fart too much?" I asked jokingly.

"Babe, you know I'm joking. I love you like that." Ayo, my boyfriend of one year assured. "Even if the smell can wake the dead."

"No problem na. I won't come and see you again." I threatened, moving towards my window seat to get more reception for the video call we were having.

Ayo just wagged his tongue at me. "Lie lie. You'll still come. You love me too much. By the way, where is your love?" He asked, moving his head sideways like he was looking for something.

Confused, I asked. "Which love?"

"Your love na, Ebuka. Your brother that never leaves you alone." He answered, a smile tugging at his dark lips.

I simply hissed, partially in response to his inquiry and also because the network had become unstable again. Moving to the opposite end of the window, I responded, "He's outside with the rest doing countdown. I'll join them after speaking to you."

"Okay. Thank God he's not here to steal your attention from me." Ayo said, with the tiniest trace of seriousness in his voice.

I laughed, about to reply when suddenly there was this strange feeling of being watched. I turned to see the source of that, while still talking.

"Jealousy. He's not..."

There by my partially covered window, a little boy stood simply watching me.

"Hello Feechi. Hello.." Ayo called repeatedly, no doubt seeing my gobstruck face and wondering the cause.

I shook my head and replied him, while watching the boy for any sign of movement. "Hello, I'll call you back later. Let me handle something."

I quickly dropped the phone, not bothering to wait for a reply.

I walked cautiously towards the window, drawing back the red silk curtains to fully expose the mystery boy. All I could see was a child, most definitely a male with light tufts of hair and a long dark coloured gown.

What was this strange child looking into my room for?

"Are you lost?" I asked cautiously, keeping a wide distance between myself and the window. These days, killers could pose as anything to lure unsuspecting victims.

Even with my 'safety precaution', there was a nagging thought in my head that was telling me to close that window and move on. Probably my father or mother's voice. Even as children, we would be warned never to talk to or collect anything from strangers for fear of kidnap or worse.

But when the boy shook his head and a tear slipped from his right eye, I ignored the thought, or voice whomever it was.

"No no. Don't cry." I cooed, trying to sound like my mom when she calmed down Ebuka.

"What's wrong? Where did you come from?" I asked, unconsciously moving towards the boy who stood still at my window.

The boy simply cried some more, occasionally wiping his tears and sniffling his nose on his shirt.

"I came here... with my auntie, but I woke up this night..." He paused, cleaning his eyes again. "I didn't see her anywhere. I called her name, but the house was empty." He said, beginning to howl loudly.

"Oya sorry. Stop crying. How did you get in here?" I asked curiously. He couldn't have entered without anyone seeing him, when everyone was outside receiving cool breeze, or at least passing through the big gate. Which was fenced round with spiky tips.

I saw a hint of something like defiance in his eyes, but sadness had engulfed them when I looked again.

Imagination?

"I passed through a small space, near the chickens' house." He explained, pointing towards the building opposite my room. The animal house, where the chicken coop was at the far end towards the fence.

"So there's a gap there? I'll have to tell Daddy to fix it." I whispered to myself.

"Wait first. What's this?" I asked, curiously pointing to the paper he held tightly.

He handed the rumpled paper to me. As I struggled to open it, he said amidst tears, "My auntie wrote it. It is her handwriting. She left me alone. Again." The crying started again.

True to his words, the letter was written by his Auntie. She explained how she didn't want a strange child anymore, how he was causing her suffering, finishing her money and bringing bad luck.

In summary, she had abandoned him and left him to fate. And apparently now me.

"Okay. I'm coming, let me call my parents. They'll know how to handle this." I said, turning to go call them.

"No, no, no. Not adults." He shouted,rapping at the still closed window.

Shocked, I halted in my steps and turned back firmly planting myself on the window seat again. "Why not? They'll help you. My parents are nice people."

"No. Adults are scary." He paused to sniffle again, before looking towards the sky and whispering. "It's raining. Can you let me in?"

Wait what? Raining in Ihiala by this time, impossible. But incredulously, rain had started pelting down on the roof and splashing on my window and the little boy.

In seconds, the boy had become so drenched to the point that his clothes clung to his body like a second skin.

He looked at me again with hopeful eyes that tried to blink away tears, or rain. Hesitatingly, I agreed. "Okay, come in then." I said, sliding open the window and helping him to climb in. In those few seconds, the increasing rain drenched both I and the loveseat I had been sitting on.

Quickly closing the window, I dragged the boy into the middle of the room and offered him a dry towel to soak some of the wetness.

Just then, as I looked at him dry his hands and legs it occurred to me why his Auntie said he was strange. I had let a boy with green hair, blue eyes and a missing arm into my room.

How had I not seen this when he was outside? I'm not a judge of looks, but the shock that I had not even looked at the child properly before letting him in was appalling. Mummy would skin me for this, even if I was well past the age of whipping. If twenty was past that age.

One more error. I had also forgotten to ask his name.

*Dropping part 2 tomorrow.