The brown hut is made of brown mud and straws with a wooden door. From the outside it looks quite small but from the inside it has a lot of space. It stands in the middle of the forest like a lone soldier, surrounded by big trees. Almost hidden from the visible eyes, a serene scene it makes.
I have seen the brown hut many times as I made my way to the stream with friends. Singing and dancing with  my calabash  on top of my head. Each time I pass I can’t help but stare at the mysterious nature of this brown hut. Always empty yet you get the feeling of a presence as you pass the front. An irresistible force pulls me towards this phenomenal structure, until I find myself walking towards it.
It is almost like an unseen force drawing me close, calling out to me from the inside of the brown hut. I find myself moving towards its, my calabash  long abandoned on the road path beside the banana tree.
The sounds of my friends voices grows fainter and fainter as I move towards the hut, just as I am about to go in, I feel hands pull me away. I can’t help but watch as I am pulled further and further away.
Longingly I look as it disappears from my view vowing in my heart to explore the brown hut