When I was nine, you could still find up to twenty trees in each state, and one of the trees in my state was in front of my house. I remember there being about ninety trees in Jos, and we would travel all the way there for excursions.

Grandma told us stories of a time when every house had a tree in front of it. I wished I had lived in those days.

If you were born in the last thirty years, you might have only heard about trees in theory, read about them in books, or seen the artificial, straight, poorly illustrated imitations on Dev 2.0 and thought that was it.

Industrialization didn’t just bring the smell of raw products and chemicals; it made trees extinct. Timber became gold in construction, and environmentalists rallied and rallied, but no tree was left standing at the end of the industrial age.

You might ask why I’m so concerned with trees and why the so-called trees on Dev 2.0 didn’t appease me.

Trees held life; they held meaning and stored a people’s history. Trees told stories of generations past to newer generations.

Trees bore fruit you could pluck—some sweet, others sour. Every tree had distinct flavors, honest to the taste buds.

Trees held life—oxygen. The big steel oxygen tanks connected to each house today were scarce when I was growing up because trees provided all the oxygen we needed. They didn’t let us waste carbon dioxide; they took it in.

They made life simple. You could use their leaves to wrap okpa and agidi. Trees brought forth food and what to wrap food in.

They provided shelter from the sun and rain. They were home to rodents and birds. Their bark held medicine for many health issues.

Trees smelled like a mother’s embrace, like home, like nature—a scent so strong it comforted you!

People are complaining about their houses and applauding Dev 2.0 for its consistency, but I have been here for a month. I came because I heard they had trees in this subconscious world.

They, however, only have faint imitations and images.

I miss trees.