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
BINTA After my mother had finished, we were all in shock. Mimi, that was against my mother at first looked guilty. "Mama, may I sleep in your hut tonight?" I asked my mother. She looked at me and smiled; her smile was different. It carried deep understanding. "No, my daughter. Do not change your lifestyle because of anyone's predicament. Whatever you do should always be because you want to, not because society expects it from you. I am a living example of people that make such decisions. I have lived with pain and guilt every day for twenty years now. Nothing and no one can make it stop. You are important to me. Your birth made the pain bearable, but a child can never replace the other. You, my dear, can never be replaced. Go to your hut and sleep well. Do not burden yourself. You are the gift given to us by the Almighty to put smiles on our faces, cover our shame and give us hope when the deity had tried to take everything from us. I see you like that one thing she could never and
BINTA Aisha got up and headed out in a hurry. "Where are you off to?" Nana called after her. "I have to go and bring my father. He can help me with this. He is the only one that can help." She answered, heading out. We were all scared and confused. What seemed like a story suddenly became real to us. This had happened right in front of us. The cause of my father's death was mere speculation that was proved genuine in seconds. We had all seen the deity in action; we had heard her voice. This was serious. I became scared. I saw Mairo packing her bags. She wanted to run away, and I didn't blame her. This was not her problem. She was an in-law here. If she stayed any longer, she ran the risk of exposing herself and her family to the wrath of the deity. I wouldn't ask her to risk that neither would my mother. "Promise you'll visit me when you can." I heard her say to my mother. My mother smiled and hugged her. She and I understood Mario's fear, and we were not going to judge her for l