He woke up early in the morning, everyday, even before the crow at dawn, to attend to his farm because he took so much pride in it. The land was passed on to him from so many generations and so Pa Bello treated it as a dear child. He tilled the soil with calloused hands, planted seeds, and prayed for the rains to come, for a bountiful harvest.
His harvests were always a marvel to the villagers: huge tubers of yam, maize with several heads on it and the very robust cassava tubers. He always had more than enough food in his barn, from one harvest-time to the other. He was envied by the villagers but he knew that the secret of his success lay in his hardwork.
One year, there was a severe drought. The earth cracked under the bitter sun and many of the farmers deserted their fields. But not Pa Bello. He dug deeper, fetched water from the distant stream, and refused to let any of his crops die.
And when rain started falling again, his farm was the first to blossom. He would always say;
"The land rewards those who do not give up."
Thank you for reading!
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