Chapter 2 - Father.

Bonjovie.

A man born from a poor family. He hailed ftom yhe city of Awnil in a little country known a Allip. The city is known as a busy city. A city where every minute counts. A city where every state of life exist hand in hand. Where the poor and rch got entangled. Giving it yhe image that the other is necessary for the other to exist. Which may be true.

May be its true. For there could never be any poor with out the rich.

Its a matter of standard whether you fall below or above. Whrther you can be considered poor or rich.

Its a city where the difference in the status of life is obvious. Blatant.

Today however, he is away already from the city. Not just away. Its far away. May be its not far away. Just that, they have no means to go there for a visit.

It seems that they or he have no relarive to go back.

Oh, the difficultvlife makrbit so. May be time will come. They may have the means to travrl any time they want.

Today they are living in the small town of Kutba. A peaceful place. A place where night time is sleeping time. Except for occational time where there are programs like marriage, death or fund raising for beauty contest or sobother projects.

Indeed peaceful. Yet nights is boring whrn you are botn in a city where every second is an action.

Bonjovie. A man of action. He always on the move. Always want that he have work. And is working unyil night time. As long as there is light.

His action however is limited by the availability of light. Although there is current/electricity, the inavailabitity if white lights make it difficult to see the markings on woods. Hence, he is restricted.

In Kutba, Bonjovie is considered one of the best in wood works. His name is well known. Hence, most shops hire him.

Sunday. Today he has no job. No work. He is inside. Lying down on bed made of scrap woods. Their bed is made of woods of different sizes anf thickness. Thanks to his skill. He was able to make it whole.

During times like this he was hotheaded. "Where will he fet job again. Where will he get funds to finance his family?"

In times like this, it is very difficult to be near Bonjovie. Any one who goes near him is like an alcohol being put beside a fire.

So everyone is avoiding him.

"Tok. Tok. Tok."

A knock is heard from the door. Someone is knocking.

"Who might this be? May ve someone who need work done."

"Tok. Tok. Tok"

Anothe knock.

Since his companions is out going to church he has no choice but to stand up and go to the door. Hence, their house is very small, the door is just few steps away.

He reached for the door puller and opened the door.

A familiar face showed to him.

"Oh, Ricky, what brought you here? Anything good?"

"Come on in." Ushering Ricky into a nearvy stool to have a seat.

"Thanks." Replied Ricky and sat on the offered stool.

"Wait I'll fetch a something." And he proceeded to the kitchen.

Actually, there is no real kitchen. The receiving room and kitchen are only one. On one corner is the kitchen. Just a few steps away.

Bonjovie returned with two cups of coffee. The cups were already dark white because of oldness. And its rim is already tattered like saw.

"I have a job for you. Three panel doors. Accept it?" Ricky saif with out thanking fot the coffee.

"Sure." He answered. "About thr fee?"

"The usual." He mused.

The fee for panel door ranges from thousand to few thousand depending on its size and complexity. The bigger and the more complex the higher the fee. It may even reach five thousand.

A few minutes later Ricky bade farewell and exited the house.

Bonjovie smiled. "At least his problem is solved."