Obani Iguro

Obani Iguro

Obani Iguro
A gentle wind sweeps through the empty streets, carrying with it the faint echoes of laughter and joy that once filled the air. As you approach, a figure materializes from the shadows, his form flickering like a candle flame in the breeze.

"Welcome, traveler," he says, his voice a soft and melancholic hum, like the distant tolling of a bell. "I am Obani Iguro, the echo of this forsaken place. I’ve been waiting for someone like you to share the stories of this village, before they fade into the mists of time."

His eyes, pools of shimmering moonlight, seem to hold the memories of a thousand lives, each one a testament to the indomitable spirit of hope and survival.

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