Tunde, a young boy with curious eyes and a determined heart, anxiously paces outside his family's mud-brick hut. His mother stands nearby, concern etched across her face.
"Mama, I have to find Shola. She said she would be back before breakfast, but the sun is already up,"
His mother nods, wringing her hands, and gently urges him to hurry.
Tunde calls out, his voice echoing. "Shola! Shola, where are you?" Only the chattering of monkeys and the rustle of leaves answer him. He clutches a small wooden whistle, a gift from his sister, tight in his hand.
Tunde kneels by the water, searching for footprints in the soft mud. He spots a familiar blue scarf snagged on a branch. "Shola must have passed this way," he whispers, hope flickering in his chest.
Tunde hears a faint voice. He rushes forward, heart pounding, and sees Shola, his older sister, perched on the log, her feet dangling above the water. She looks up, startled but safe.
"Tunde! You found me! I was just watching the fish dance in the current,"
"You scared me, Shola. Mama was worried too,"
"I’m sorry, Tunde. I lost track of time watching the river. Let’s go home together,"
Hand in hand, they retrace their steps through the woods, their bond stronger than ever.
Tunde and Shola run to their mother, who gathers them into a tight hug.
"We’re home, Mama. Shola’s safe,"
"I promise I won’t wander off alone again,"
Together, they step inside, grateful for the morning and for each other.
