1 - Stranger
Adewunmi
I hurried past the palm fronds, the clay pot balanced on my head as I treaded on the familiar path to the stream.
A smile found its way to my eyes as I stole a couple of minutes to look around. Ile-Aye was a beautiful village, and it was by this time every day that it stirred to life. The children were playing around, chasing each other as their mothers attended to chores.
I always liked to go early so that I could finish my share of chores early. I let out a deep sigh and continued my path, humming a traditional song my grandmother had taught me, the melody weaving through the rustling leaves.
The stream was my sanctuary. And in the mornings like this, it was usually very quiet. Maybe if I still had time, I could go for a quick swim after fetching my water. As I rounded the bend toward the water’s edge, the song died on my lips.
Three men were lounging by the stream’s bank, and they were already looking at me like I was bush meat. I groaned in my head nd prayed they wouldn’t do anything to me.
Those men in particular were idle young men from the neighbouring compound who spent their days drinking palm wine, troubling the village girls and never amounting to anything good.
My grip tightened on the pot’s base, and I quickened my pace, hoping that I’d be able to do what I came to and leave immediately before they had time to approach me.
“Eh, Adewunmi! Beautiful morning flower.” Dele, the tallest of the three men, called out, his voice thick with the previous night’s drink. “Won’t you come and greet us?”
I glanced at him briefly, not missing the palm wine guards in their hands. They are drunk already this early morning.“Good morning,” I said curtly, kneeling to fill my pot. The cool water rushed over my hands, and I wished I could just disappear into it.
“Ah ah! Is that how to greet your elders?” Kunle, the stockiest one, moved closer. “Oya, come and greet us properly. On your knees, like a good girl should.”
My heart hammered against my ribs as they all came closer, blocking my way. I’d rather drown in the stream right now than be raped by these men. My pot was only half full, but I couldn’t care less about it at this point.
I carried the pot and hoisted it between my arms and the curves of my waist. “I have greeted you, I need to return home now,” I said, standing there with as much confidence and dignity as I could muster.
“Home?” The last and youngest one, Bode, finally spoke. From the way he laughed and the stories I had heard, I knew he was the most aggressive one. “What is the rush? We want to... talk to you.”
Ha!! Temi ba mi. (It’s a Yoruba exclamation that means ‘I’m finished’)
They formed a loose circle around me, their intentions clear in their ugly and rough faces. My mouth went dry, and I didn’t even know whether to try to run or to call for help.
I had heard what these vile men had done to girls in the village, and they framed the girls as whores, so they weren’t given justice. God, please, don’t let this be my story.
“Please, let me pass,” I said, and I hated how scared and desperate I sounded.
“Not until you show us some respect,” Dele said, reaching out to touch my arm. I jerked away, but stumbled, which caused my pot to tilt.
Water sloshed on the ground, darkening the red earth beneath our feet. They moved closer, and Bode reached out to grab me.
“Leave her alone.”
The voice cut through the morning air like a blade, and I felt like I could finally breathe. We all turned to him, surprised, but I, more relieved than surprised.
This young man was tall and lean, but at the same time, muscular. His pose was authoritative, and he seemed like he had seen the world beyond the village. His agbada was finely woven, though simple in design, and his facial features literally screamed ‘good breeding’.
But his eyes were the ones that called me, and I heard my heart beat louder and pound against my ears as our eyes met briefly. They were intelligent, watchful, and currently blazing with controlled anger.
“This is not your concern, Mr. Stranger,” Kunle said, puffing out his chest. “We are just having a conversation with our sister here.” I rolled my eyes, completely disgusted by them.
“Oh please,” He said smoothly. “I’m sure I don’t look stupid. From where I’m standing, it looks like you guys are being cowards and thieves. Trying to steal something that doesn’t belong to you.” He finished and took a step forward as his insult lingered in the air.
Dele’s hand moved to the knife at his hip, and my eyes widened. These men were really senseless.“You do not know who you’re speaking to.”
“I know exactly who I’m talking to,” the stranger said, and there was something in the authority his voice carried that made the three men pause. “The question is: do you know who you are speaking to?”
He didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, he moved with fluid grace, positioning himself between me and my harassers. “The lady wishes to leave. You will let her pass.”
“And if we refuse?” Bode challenged, though his voice lacked its earlier confidence.
The stranger smiled, and it was not a pleasant expression. “Then you will discover why it is unwise to test the patience of someone who has trained with the best warriors in Lagos.”
Something in his stance, the way he balanced on the balls of his feet and the casual confidence he had told them he was not making idle threats. After a moment of tense silence, Dele spat on the ground.
“This is not over,” he muttered, then jerked his head toward his companions. “Let’s go.”
They departed with as much dignity as they could salvage—Not that they had any—throwing dark looks over their shoulders. I watched them go, and it wasn’t until they were out of sight that I noticed my hands shaking as I gripped my pot.
“Are you hurt?” the stranger asked, his voice gentling now that the threat had passed.
“No,” I managed, then remembered my manners. “Thank you. I—thank you.”
I felt relieved that I was saved from those vile men, and I turned to go, but his hand caught my wrist. Not roughly, but firmly enough to stop her.
“Wait.”
