SAKIRA

Kwararafa, West Africa.

1725

Kwararafa, a contented village filled with joyful and peaceful people. Happiness was the only thing to speak of in this little town. They were centred at the Benue river valley which indeed brings out the best of fishermen in this village. The major clan in this village was the Wukari clan. Festivals were well celebrated in this place. The King indeed took care of his people. The Pategis was a well-known family in this clan. Zulu Pategi was one of the best fishermen in the town and was occasionally summoned by the King. He caught the best of fishes and the biggest ones. He was well respected. His wife, Haija was also known amongst the market women. She was well respected and known to be one of the best market women.

Six children were born into this family. Sakira the first child and the first girl, Khadija, the first son, Kawu, the second son, Alimi, the third son, Goloba, the second girl and lastly, Ruqqa, the third girl. This family lived peacefully and happily, having the least to be troubled about.

One festive morning, Sakira woke her siblings and they all hurried out of the moderate sized hut made from clay and hay. They ran faster as they followed the voices of the talking drums.

"Hurry, we must not miss it" Sakira hastened her siblings

Passing through the only narrow road with huts arranged horizontally to their lefts and rights, they finally reached their destination. The village centre was already filled with a lot of people. Squeezing their way through, they finally got a view of what they had been waiting for. The villagers formed a circle around the dancing masquerade and where amazed by its moves. They never got tired of it. In fact, they always looked forward to seeing it every year.

The talking drums gave its glorious beats and the masquerade swayed its body to the rhythm that came from it and at an abrupt stop, the masquerade will fall flat to the ground like dumped cloth. It was a mystery to all of them and they couldn't phantom the power behind it. The villagers clapped and encouraged the masquerade to continue its amazing dance. Finally, the drummers began to walk away from the centre of the village to a place away from the main village. The masquerade followed the drummers and continued dancing. The villagers continued clapping until they could see it no more.

"I looked forward to its dance next year" Khadija smiled

Sakira looked at her tall brother, who indeed she was older than but still managed to beat her in height and she smiled at him.

"Come on" she said, "Let's all go home"

Haija knew her children would arrive soon, and she knew very well they would arrive hungry so she prepared breakfast for them. Placing the hot soup into a calabash and the cassava pudding traditionally known as 'fufu' into another calabash, she left for the hut. She placed the food in the centre of the room and awaited her children. They arrived shortly and without further explanations, they greeted their mother and sat round the food. Their father joined them and the children spoke endlessly about the dancing masquerade. Zulu seemed to have kept to himself for a while and it worried his wife.

"Zulu, what is the matter?" Haija asked

"It is the Bornu clan" He sighed "They do not seem to support happiness here in Kwararafa" He added

The family that were once smiling and eating happily looked very worried now

"What are they planning to do?" Sakira asked

"We do not know yet. But from the signs they sent, a war is bound to happen" He said

Bornu clan is a very powerful empire, strong in machinery and martial arts. And Kwararafa was found at the southwest of the Bornu clan. They have not exactly fancied Kwararafa ever since a threat was sent to them and now they've decided to put things in place

Great Britain

A carriage enters the well-defined structured house made of furnished wood. It was a beautiful cottage. It was obvious that whoever owned the house must be a very rich person. It was sky blue and white in colour. The exterior decorations of the house showed the sense the owners had. At the back of the house was a very large plantation filled with people working on it endlessly. At the far left of the building was a small dilapidated looking house meant for only the slaves in the house.

Mr Benson, a tall decent looking man came down from the carriage as one of his slaves opened the door. His skin was fair and stainless. He looked neat and elegant with the blue shirt tucked into his light brown trousers. And on his blonde hair head was a brown hat. He walked grandly filled with pride towards his wife who was resting and reading on the armchair at the doorway of the house. She looked like a Queen waiting for her King to arrive.

Her skin was cultured and flawless. She looks very stunning in the peach lace evening dress she wore and very stylish with her hair all packed up. She was fashionable. She looked up and smiled at her husband. Lifting her arm with a tea cup on it, the slave beside her took it and she got up from the armchair to embrace her husband.

"Welcome back" She greeted with her arms round his neck

"You look beautiful" He smiled

She buried her face in his neck and kissed his cheek.

"Come, you must be hungry" She said as she released herself from him.

Together, they entered their house. He was greeted by his son and daughter who were waiting for him in the living room.

"Welcome father" Stacy curtsied.

"Good to have you back father" Mark bowed.

They had a feast and enjoyed the rest of the night merrily.

The next morning, Mr Benson rushed out from the house packed with resentment

"Mary!!" he hollered

Mary, who was the chief slave and in charge of handing over duties scuttled to the direction her name, was called. Her skin colour was black and rough, filled with marks at all visible sights. Her dress was totally faded and some parts had frayed.

"Yes sir" She fidgeted

He walked leisurely to her with his hands behind him and did not take his eyes off her.

However, she couldn't look at him and just kept her face down.

"Look at me" He said.

Gradually, she lifted her head and a weighty slap was what followed next. She had not even registered what happened until she tasted blood from the side of her lips. She began to whimper and her lips quaked as she received the pain. She wished she could retaliate, she wished she could report him but it was impossible. She had no rights nor will of her own. She couldn't do anything.

"What happened to the yams in the barn" He asked

"Nothing sir" She said worried

She received an extra profound slap and her lip tore.

"You are very stupid for lying to me" He said.

She didn't utter a word and just kept on staring at the floor. He pulled her hair wickedly and she winced in pain

"I want every piece of spoilt yam in the barn replaced within 24 hours or else, I will deal with you callously" he said as he threw her to the floor and walked away.

She got up and dusted the sand off her body. She touched her swollen lip and sighed miserably. This was life every day for her and the rest of them. They never do or had what satisfies them. They just follow the policy. They were treated like animals, dressed in rags and scarcely ever fed. This was their life as slaves in the home of the Bensons.

A few days later, Mr Benson was packing his bags again and was leaving for Africa. After bidding farewell to his family, he left with his supposed right-hand man and they arrived at the seaport in few minutes.

"Africa, here I come" He smiled to himself as he entered the ship

Bornu Empire

"My King we've given Wukari enough time, if we do not do something to them now, they would do something to us before we can even have any opportunity to do anything."

"My King, I'm fully in support of Giwa. We should not waste any more time."

The King gave a satisfied sigh and the palace went into silence for a short period of time.

"Alright my people, we will attack this clan as soon as possible" He concluded.

The chiefs and ministers cheered the King.

"Prepare the warriors, a war is happening"

And so, the Bornu clan prepared to attack Kwararafa. The so called happy town was soon known to meet its downfall.