Cold went through her nape as she went on down the lonely path. Raining season had pathways for the harmattan wind, which fogged the treetops like the smoke of a burning bush. Until today, coming here wouldn't have crossed her mind in ages. It's been a long time and every step into the forest flushes back the memory. How long has it been? Why was the forest notorious for harboring evil?

Ejima steadied her hands on her staff. The burning sensation on her side was still there and her head ached. She needed a good sleep. She needs to clear her mind. Life has indeed dealt with her, she could sense the heavy stripes on her soul and the weight crashing on her shoulders. It has always been from one problem to another, one death or misfortune to another. She was the victim. Maybe the villagers were right? Maybe the words of the Dibia were right? Maybe she indeed was a daughter of misfortune.

No, that can't be. A voice assured in her head as she continued. She had not met anyon

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