Laila. My mission in Duniya was heartwarming. I looked forward to doing good. With my long history of evil deeds, the mission the deity sent me on was a soul redeemer. Zuwaira and I had devised a plan to get our friends and their families to cross over. We knew it would be very difficult because the people were loyal to the old deity, and they were afraid of her too. The fear got worse when the sky turned red, and the plants began to die. The plague had worsened the situation. No one wanted to get on the deity's bad side for fear of her wrath. We had seen greater power than hers, and we were willing to fight for it. Since Adam was still sorry about what they had done to us in Rayuwa, I was able to persuade him to allow me to throw a party in the house. He didn't like the idea at first because of Binta's situation, but when I told him about what the deity had requested of us, he agreed. Watching the way everyone worked to help organise the party warmed my heart. I secretly wished t
ADAM My father had sent an order to the president instructing the people of Lafiya to throw out Aljanan Daji's altars from their homes and swear allegiance to the new deity. There were also instructions to bless the land. I thought my mother-in-law would be coming to bless the land herself, but I learned that it was going to rain for seven days instead, a form of cleansing. Those who were interested in serving the new deity were instructed to collect the rainwater and drink it to sever their blood ties to Aljannan Daji. The people were confused, and soon I had a crowd at my gate. People wanted answers, answers they knew they could only get from a royal. News also went around about what Laila had done at the party. It was linked to the decree by the king, and people had become scared. I knew I had to attend to the crowd of reporters outside. So I went out with the guards to address them and answer their questions. Since they couldn't all go to Rayuwa to interview my father, I was the
BAMALI. News about the sudden huge number of visitors arriving at Rayuwa baffled me. I knew what the people were, and I became scared. I had been unable to warn Safia about the jinni's ploy, and I worried that it was too late. I was a prisoner even in my home. Selling my soul had taken away my freedom. I once thought the people of Rayuwa were unfortunate prisoners; my situation made me realise that there were worse forms of thralldom than that which Rayuwa was in. At least the people of Rayuwa had the luxury of drinking the blessed water to sever their ties with the jinni. I could not drink the blessed water because it would not affect me. I had already sold my soul, and my only hope was that the jinni would be defeated. I prayed that I would one day be free. I did not know how my freedom would come. It would either be in life or death. I yearned most for life. Dagudu had successfully found a way to get close to Safia, and it made me worried. Couldn't she sense who he was? He had
SAFIA. Aishatu had succeeded in bringing the final and most crucial ingredient for Binta's ritual. I had warned her that Dagudu was on his way, and she had handled the matter beautifully. Although Bamali was not covenanted to us, he had shown his loyalty to our course. We couldn't allow him to get in trouble with the jinni. She still owned him. So we had to be careful. The-bond-that-binds you is usually a finger bone made from jinni cadaver. It is used to bind the holder's soul to the jinni he or she sold it to. Often the holders were clueless about it, and this is because they usually receive it in a dream, but in actual reality, it is their soul that receives it, but the experience is perceived as a dream. Bamalli was the only living being with the finger-bone, and I was glad he was on our side. The finger-bone was somehow tied to the jinni in question, so I was going to use it to gain entrance into her kingdom. Binta was laid beautifully on the floor in the middle of the compou
BINTA I lived on a remote island on the coast of Lafiya called Rayuwa. Lafiya is a country made up of four states. Fili State, Ruwa State, Gona State and Daji state. Rayuwa is part of Daji State, and the capital of Daji is Duniya. The proximity of Rayuwa to Duniya is near. Lafiya is a developed country, but although Rayuwa is a part of Lafiya, it lacks civilisation, and because of this, it serves as a tourist attraction for Lafiya, generating millions in revenue. In Rayuwa, there were no schools, no electricity, or water supply. People usually fetched water from the streams or dug wells in their compounds. The lack of civilisation made it impossible for us to access proper medical care, and because of this, my people sought the services of our local herbalists and witch doctors. I was the only literate in my village, and I was fortunate to be so, thanks to the non-government organisation that opened when I was five. The owner took a liking to me and offered my parents to allow the te
BINTA I arrived home in the evening coming from the Sarki's palace. I had been there all morning helping him write letters to the local government chairman, requesting the government to build a school and a health clinic for the people in the village. It was about time, I had thought, and for the first time in a while, I enjoyed my work, knowing if the Sarki was successful, the lives of my people would be affected positively. It was, after all, part of my dream. On getting home, I found a small crowd of people in front of our hut compound. My mother was sitting at the door, weeping bitterly. A dark, scary feeling sunk into my heart and soul. Something was wrong; something was terribly wrong. I hoped my father would be able to comfort her when he returned. I sauntered toward the crowd. On getting there, they all fell silent. My mother stood up, hugged me and continued crying. I asked her what happened in our language, but she did not respond. I looked around, searching the people's f
BINTA "This is wicked!" a loud voice woke me from sleep. It was morning, but it was still dark outside. "Even you? After all, I have done for this family?" it was my mother's voice; she was arguing with someone. I did not want to get involved unless I had to, so I stayed put and listened to their conversation. "How could you do this to me? This situation is not my fault! I have been nothing but a good submissive wife and daughter-in-law," I heard my mother sobbing. "But you knew it wouldn't work that way." I heard my uncle say, trying to calm the situation down but clearly against my mother. "You people are wicked. I regret marrying into this family. All this union has brought me is pain and sorrow. Now that I am no longer useful to you, you now do this." My mother continued lamenting. "Why will you say that? You are my sister and the mother of my favourite niece." I heard Gogo trying to console my mother. "Even you? So you knew about this all along, and you kept it from me. You
BINTA My mother, who had by now stopped crying, searched the faces of her assaulters, urging them to answer my question, but they remained silent. "I'll tell you why," my mother finally said. "Don't you dare, Safia," Nana warned her. "Why not? After all, there is nothing more to lose. Your son has already broken his side of the promise and covenant. I will be a fool to remain silent," my mother responded. Looking at my mother, all I saw was anger and disappointment. I had never seen so much hurt registered on her face the way it did now. I also saw fear and dread in Nana's eyes. She did not want my mother to say what she was about to say, but my mother's mind was made up, and we all could see that. "I'll tell you. I'll tell everyone. My child, it is not the Almighty's doing that you don't have a sibling. You had an elder brother." She started. Upon hearing this, I was shocked. No one had ever told me this before; it was a well-kept secret. Why would they keep this from me? I dec