“Father, do you hate me so much? Why are you planning on giving me to those strangers? You do not even know anything about them and their strange customs. What if he takes me across the river, to their lands, only to have me sacrificed to their strange god?”
Ajanaku looked her in the eyes before responding. “Shehu Danta is now a citizen of our land. He has agreed to remain here with you. He is rich, good, and we need his army.”
Of the trio, only Abeni sported the beautiful facial tribal marks associated with the ancient people of Ilale. Agbonyin was the tallest of the group, with a light skinned feature, typical of the people closer to the Oya River. Agbonyin came from a family of fishermen, unlike the other inhabitants of the town that made their living from farming, tye and dye, hunting, and cloth weaving.
“Remember not to ever look a man in the face. Don’t give them those fake kneeling you used to do to me. You have to go down completely for them. s’o ti gbo?” Ariyike lowered her voice and warned her daughter.
Bukunmi nodded. “Yes mother. I’m familiar with the rules.”
Ariyike sighed. “Please do not talk back at them. I beg of you.”
Lost in thoughts of her weekly rendezvous, her hand slowly descended on her hardened nipples with flourish. She rolled one attentive nipple in her fingers and moaned silently from the weight of the pleasure she was giving herself. Her body, slick with sweat from the excessive heat, teased her to descend even lower.
“Because you have asked me to be your wife and I don’t even know this little bit of information about you.” Her voice broke steadily, as she began to cry. “Each time I try to see if you’re telling me the truth, you wake up and you’re still as strong as ever.”
“Dee.” Samson’s eyes implored. “Try to understand my position.
Deliver Us (A Samson & Delilah Retelling) Read More »
Esinmirin’s smile became wider. “You promised to give me whatever I wanted. I want your son. You defeated the Ugbo, did you not? You became a heroine, did you not? Moremi, the brave and beautiful. Moremi, the courageous Queen.”
“You sound bitter and jealous.” Moremi sneered.
Raffia On Fire (A Moremi Story) — Part 2 Read More »
Moremi raised her head to look at the deity, just to be sure she had heard her correctly. Esimirin nodded with an encouraging smile, before beckoning with a crook of her fingers. Moremi hesitated for a heartbeat, and when she was sure she was in no danger, she stood up and moved closer to the deity.
Raffia On Fire (A Moremi Story) — Part 1 Read More »