Chapter 24: Blood on the Stone

I search the grassland for three days before I find the hut of Hauwa and her husband.

The sun dey burn, night cold, but I no stop. Each day, hunger dey bite, but my mind dey only on one thing—mama. I fit feel her presence for wind, fit smell her pain for air.

But as I sneak enter sheep pen at night, I see say mama no dey.

The emptiness dey loud. Sheep dey sleep, ground quiet, but the space wey she dey always cover empty. My heart jump, fear dey grow.

The iron chain wey dem use tie her leg just throw for the stone block.

The chain cold, no body to hold am. For our land, when chain dey empty, na sign say something don happen—either freedom or sorrow.

For top the stone block, I smell blood—salty, fresh blood.

The smell choke, pain dey grip my chest. I bend down, touch ground, fingers wet. My mind dey race, prayer dey rush my mouth.

“Mama...”

The word weak, hope almost finish. Tears dey fall, ground dey swallow them. For that moment, only darkness and silence answer me. But for my heart, I dey promise say I no go stop, I no go give up—no matter where she dey, no matter the wahala wey dey wait. I go find her, even if I must turn spirit for night.