In a small village very far from civilization, I and my family survived there as the territorial species. We enjoyed everything nature could give us; the beautiful stream, trees, pretty girls, cute boys, unity, etc. The children were always thrilled to take advantage of the cool evening by playing all kinds of games that were taught to them and also the ones they could invent.

The beautiful girls would flaunt their beauty to please boys and they were also hardworking as the boys when needed. Our elders who were well stricken in age would laugh and admire the little children playing around with their tiny legs as every younger one greeted them as they approached.

Our beautiful mothers also would bath the little ones. Whenever they were bathing the girls who had reached puberty in public, most boys would gather and admire their nudity. However, they were driven away as they ran and never came back. I always had a hard on for one of my crushes then. Whenever she caught me, she would smile and look into my eyes as I escaped being caught by her mother or father. Her name was Nneka.

He was local and simple. We used animal skin as our clothes and used bamboo sticks to hunt animals. The male and female gender only covered their genitals and we always held a ritual at night whereby beautiful girls would dance round a fire made from clashing two rocks together.

At those moments, I and Nneka would sit close to each other and hold each other's hands amicably. I would stare at her eyes and wished to give her a hug throughout the night. But it was wrong to get intimate with a girl without marriage, so we would just smile and wish for that beautiful day to come as we strolled and gaze at the beautiful stars.

Our parents knew about our relationship and they really wanted us to get married. We would go to the stream together and splash water at each other. Sometimes I would run after her as she steals my calabash. Some other time she would run after me and when she bumped on me, her budding boobs would relax on my chest.

We would both smile. In fact, we both wanted to have sex as we had our first kiss one evening when she bumped on me. I removed her pants and wanted to explore her but we remembered that it was a crime to marry a deflowered girl so we just kissed and caressed each other's bodies and strolled back home.

Sometimes we shared our foods together. She was the only daughter of her parents and was probably the most beautiful at that time. Every moment without her gave me a sleepless night. If we could control time, we would turn to adults and quickly get married and have sex at most times.

Another thing she did to keep me company was her voice whenever she was singing. She had an angelic voice. I was always lost in a trance whenever she sang and I would be lured to play my flute along with her melodious voice.

Whenever she was bored or sad, my flute always cheered her up. We were the backbone of each other. It was as if we were inseparable. From the first day I kissed her, we always made it customary to go to our usual hiding place to kiss until we were exhausted.

Sometimes, I also suck her boobs and she gives me blowjobs. She loved my cum and I loved her pussy juices. I always protected her from any guy who took interest in her. We were highly possessive of each other and most people knew it.

My flute doesn't just entertain Nneka, it also entertains my household. So, one day I had done all my chores and decided to play my lovely flute. Whenever I played it, all attention turned to my direction. The music always eased and resolved stress and conflict in my father's compound.

Times like this, all the children of the nuclear and extended family would sit down to hear Grandpa's folktales. His stories looked like a real movie. Every child that listened to his stories admired his dexterity in storytelling.

He would smile, use the kids as samples to give a vivid picture of the characters in the stories and it would glue their attention to him the more. His facial expressions also did justice in narrating every events in details of the story. In those days, he was our cinema.

Then, we had no TV. It was like in the Stone Age. No electricity or internet. Everything was manual and mechanical. We had never seen a bus before since we didn't have any relatives staying abroad. We were just savages.

Sometimes, Grandpa talked about love, war, jealousy, horror, comedy and kinds of scenes that gave us a vivid picture of the world. He would tell us stories of mighty kingdoms falling to the weapons of a mightier one. It was so sad. Even when he tells us tragic stories, it was well told. The day he died, sadly enough, he was not given a befitting burial for reasons you'll know later.

Once Grandpa finished his stories, most children would clap and sometimes the adults would clap too. He was like a celebrity as some children would struggle to cuddle him at all costs. They would be rebuked so they wouldn't injure the old man but he would let them come saying, "I really love to embrace them. They give me sweet memories of when I was like them." Then tears would remove from his eyes as the children also refused to refrain from the embrace.

Those moments made me cry as it relieved me of all my worries. That night would be supplemented with dinner from our mothers under the full moon before midnight. The food was always sumptuous, coupled with Grandpa's stories. I really miss those days when we would laugh and play while eating our meal.

Then, Grandpa and his mates would go to sleep while the youths stay awake all night as night guards. The children would play and still want to engage in their night games until their mothers called them to sleep and they'd humbly obey. We were cultured to that extent.