The shattered gourd lay at my feet, a silent witness to the violence that had just
erupted in the small, stuffy room. The smell of palm wine and blood was thick
and nauseating.
I stood there… frozen for a heartbeat, two heartbeats, staring down at the still form of the Sarkin Kano. Is he dead?
The thought was a cold shock, piercing through the white-hot haze of fury. I wasn't thinking. There was no plan, no calculation. Only the surge of the drums, the smoke, the humiliation, the chilling threat to my father
and my people, and then I just… It had been instinct, raw and terrifying. Panic,
cold and sharp, lanced through the adrenaline.
Repercussions.
The word echoed in my mind, vast and terrifying. I had struck a king. The King of Kano. This wasn't just a personal act; this was an act of war. An outright, undeniable
declaration of hostility. Kano's army was massive, their reach long. Uzazzu,
even with its legendary warriors, was smaller, less wealthy, still recovering
from past struggles. They would be crushed. Razed to the ground. My people...
all because I had lost control.
I can't stay here. Not for another second.
Is that Footsteps I hear? Voices outside? What if they decide to come in? If they ask about the Sarkin Kano? What if they had a
message to relay to him?
What would I do? What would I say?
No matter. If I run away now they wont be able to find me. I have to disappear. Now.
Spinning around, I fled the inner room, almost tripping over the low threshold. Nala was already asleep on the mat in the outer chamber, her breathing soft and even in the darkness.
"Nala! Wake up!" I hissed, shaking her urgently.
"We have to go. Now!"
Nala jolted awake, disoriented, her eyes wide in the dim light. "Gimbiya? What—?"
"No time!" I grabbed her arm, pulling her up.
"We're leaving. Quietly." I would explain. Not now, we need to escape
first.
We crept towards the entrance of the hut, the woven mat rustling softly as we pushed it aside. The night air was cool and still.
Outside, the village was silent, only the distant sounds of their own guards
and Kano's retinue sleeping around the campfires. Stealing horses wouldn't be
easy. The Sarkin Kano's men were disciplined, even in sleep.
We moved like shadows, barefoot on the dusty ground, circling the perimeter of the sleeping camp. Every snapped twig, every rustle of cloth, sounded like thunder in my ears. We found the horses picketed near
the edge of the village – fine, strong animals belonging to the Kano King's
personal guard.
Undoing the tethers with fumbling, desperate fingers felt like an eternity but finally we got them loose and chose two horses, going for
the calmer ones in the dark.
Mounting them bareback was awkward, but we managed, I helped
Nala up onto the second horse before swinging onto my own. We guided the horses away from the camp slowly, deliberately, walking them until we were clear of the village and the sleeping forms. Only then, when we were on the open path, I
urged my horse into a gallop with Nala following close behind.
The wind whipped past my face, the speed of the horsee a momentary distraction from the terror that was gripping my heart. We rode through the night, the stars being our only guide to head back the way we had
come.
After an hour or two, the frantic energy began to wane, replaced by aching muscles and the cold reality of my situation. We then slowed the horses to a steady trot.
Beside me, Nala's voice was small. "Gimbiya... what
happened? Why are we running?"
I swallowed, my throat dry. The confession felt like another blow, but Nala deserved to know, she deserved to know why I had forced her out of sleep and onto a horse riding back to Uzazzu "The King of Kano," I
said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I... I struck him. With a gourd.
He fell. I think... I think I killed him."
Nala gasped, a sharp intake of breath. Silence stretched
between us, heavy with the weight of the revelation.
"He was... he was a monster, Nala," I continued, the words tumbling out now. "He wasn't just going to marry me. He was
using me. He plans to overthrow father, to take over Uzazzu, to use the Masu
Jikin Karfe, our warriors, to conquer the West. He said... he said father and
our dynasty would be unnecessary."
A fresh wave of guilt washed over me. "I wasn't thinking," I repeated, the phrase a mournful refrain. "I just reacted. And now... now Kano will come for us. For all of us."
"We had to run Nala, we have to find a way to disappear"
I said, voicing the plan that had formed in my panicked mind. "Ride away.
To the south, perhaps. Find somewhere no one knows us. If I am gone, maybe...
maybe they won't come for Uzazzu. Maybe they will just search for me." The
idea felt cowardly, selfish even, but the image of Kano's army marching on my
home, burning the huts, slaughtering my people, was a living nightmare that
seized my mind.
Oh… I saw it with terrifying clarity: the vast, disciplined ranks of Kano soldiers, their foreign armour glinting under a blood-red sky.
They wouldn't just attack the palace; they would swarm the compound, I saw Nana
Afua's quarters collapsing in flames, the scent of her burning spices replaced
by ash and destruction. The central mango tree, where the children played,
would be hacked down. The market, usually vibrant with colour and noise, would
be silent, bodies lying amongst overturned stalls. I saw our proud Masu Jikin
Karfe fighting fiercely, impossibly, but eventually overwhelmed by sheer
numbers, their strength broken not by iron, but by the relentless tide of
Kano's forces. The strong Askia Ishaq wailing with a loud voice, Idris covered
in a pool of his own blood, MaiMuna in tears, raining curses at me. Screams –
the high screams of women, children, the elderly – echoed in the imagined air,
a horrific symphony of Uzazzu's final moments. Fire consumed everything – the
mud walls I had grown up within, the sacred Oracle's forest turning to cinders,
the very breath of my land choked out by smoke and cruelty.
"Do you truly think the Sarkin Kano's men, once they find their king... dead. Do you think they will only search for you?"
Nala's voice cut through the horrifying vision, her practicality a cold splash
of reality. "They will come for Uzazzu regardless! They will want
vengeance! Your running away will not stop them; it will only leave our people
without warning! Will you be a coward and run away from your destiny or will
you warn our people?"
My head snapped in her direction. Her words, felt like a knife slicing through me. She had no right to speak to me in that manner! But still… it chided me. Will I be a coward? A Gimbiya who would run tail between her legs or will I save my people? Disappearing wouldn't save Uzazzu; itwould only abandon them to this fate. Idris words echoed in my ears: "Do what is best for the
kingdom, Amira."
But I tried! I tried to be a political bride, a sacrifice for an alliance. That had failed spectacularly. Now, I not only broke an
alliance but I have inadvertently ignited the very conflict my father had
sought to avoid.
But perhaps...
perhaps this was the path the Oracle had spoken of. Not marriage, but conflict.
Not peace, but war. A destiny we could delay but not avoid.
We were already declared dead from the beginning of the treaty. The King of Kano's words, his cruel plan, confirmed it. The treaty wasn't protection; it was a trap. Our fate was sealed the moment father agreed
to the alliance with this man. Running wouldn't change the enemy's intentions.
Only warning my father, preparing Uzazzu, could offer any hope.
The horses galloped on under the waning stars. I straightened on the horse's back, my posture shifting from panicked flight to
grim determination. Running was for cowards, or for those who had something
left to lose beyond honor. My kingdom was at stake. My family. My people.
"You are right, Nala," I said, my voice low but
steady.
"Running solves nothing." I urged the horse
faster, turning my face towards the faint glow of dawn appearing on the horizon– the direction of home. "We ride for Uzazzu. We have to warn them. We have to prepare."