Amina leads Ifeanyi to the bedroom at the edge of the compound, the kerosene lamp casting flickering shadows on the path. The night is quiet, the air heavy with the scent of damp earth and the promise of rain. Ifeanyi walks beside her, his tall frame towering over her, his presence both intimidating and oddly comforting.
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"You've changed," Ifeanyi says, breaking the silence. His voice is smooth, almost too casual.
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Amina glances at him briefly, her grip tightening on the lamp. "People change."
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Ifeanyi chuckles, the sound low and confident. "True. But some things stay the same. Like your love for books. I remember you always had one in your hand."
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Amina doesn't respond immediately. She's too focused on the path ahead, on the light from Grandma's hut that grows fainter with each step. Finally, she says, "Books don't change. People do."
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Ifeanyi smiles, but there's something in his eyes—something calculating. "I like that about you. You're not like the others."
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Amina doesn't know how to respond, so she stays silent. The bedroom is just ahead, its outline barely visible in the dim light. She quickens her pace, eager to be done with this conversation.
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**The Arrival at the Bedroom:**
When they reach the bedroom, Amina stops at the door, holding the lamp aloft. "Here it is," she says, her voice steady despite the unease churning in her stomach. "There's a bed, a table, and a chair. If you need anything else, let me know."
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Ifeanyi steps closer, his tall frame casting a long shadow. "Thank you, Amina. You've been... very kind."
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His tone makes her skin crawl, but she forces a polite smile. "Goodnight, Ifeanyi."
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She turns to leave, but he reaches out, his hand brushing against her arm. "Wait."
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Amina freezes, her heart pounding. She turns to face him, her expression carefully neutral. "Yes?"
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Ifeanyi smiles, his confidence unnerving. "How old are you?"
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Amina hesitates. "Seventeen. I'll be eighteen before July."
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"Three months away," Ifeanyi says, his tone teasing. "Almost a woman."
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Amina doesn't respond, her cheeks burning. Ifeanyi reaches into his bag and pulls out a small, neatly wrapped box. "I have a gift for you," he says, holding it out to her.
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Amina stares at the box, her mind racing. "I... I can't accept this."
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"Why not?" Ifeanyi asks, his smile widening. "It's just a small token. Open it when you're in your room."
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Before Amina can protest, a sudden gust of wind blows out the kerosene lamp, plunging the room into darkness. Amina stumbles forward, crashing into Ifeanyi. His arms wrap around her instinctively, steadying her. For a moment, they stand there, their bodies pressed together, the warmth of his chest against hers.
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Amina's heart races, her breath catching in her throat. She pulls away quickly, her face burning with embarrassment. "I'm sorry," she stammers. "I'll... I'll make sure my father installs electric lights in here. This shouldn't happen again."
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Ifeanyi chuckles, his voice low and smooth. "It's fine. The darkness has its charms."
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He hands her the box again, his fingers brushing against hers. "Take it. And remember—open it in your room."
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Amina nods, clutching the box to her chest. "Goodnight, Ifeanyi."
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"Goodnight, Amina," he replies, his voice soft.
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As Amina steps out of the room, she hears Ifeanyi's voice again, but this time, it's not directed at her. He's on the phone, his tone low and urgent.
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"Hello, Dad," he says, his voice carrying through the still night.
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Amina pauses, her curiosity getting the better of her. She moves closer to the wall, straining to hear the conversation. But instead of words, she hears something else—a song.
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It's the same song Mami Wata sang to her by the river.
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*"My beautiful Amina, come to me, come to me..."*
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Amina's blood runs cold. She takes a step back, her mind racing. How does Ifeanyi know the song? Before she can process what's happening, the door creaks open, and she turns to see Mami Wata standing in the distance, her white robe glowing in the moonlight.
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Amina crouches, her scream caught in her throat as Mami Wata moves toward her with unnatural speed. Just as the spirit reaches her, a hand grabs her shoulder, snapping her back to reality.
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"Amina! What are you doing out here in the dark?"
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Amina blinks, disoriented. She's standing in the compound, the kerosene lamp still in her hand, its burnt wick making the area around her smell like flames. Grandma is beside her, her sharp eyes filled with concern.
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"I... I was just feeling the night breeze," Amina stammers, her voice shaky.
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Grandma frowns, her expression a mix of irritation and worry. "Feeling the night breeze? At this hour? *Nne, ihe a na-eme gi?* What is wrong with you? Run back to your room before something catches you!"
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Amina nods, clutching the box Ifeanyi gave her. "Yes, Grandma."
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As she hurries toward the house, she glances back and sees Grandma standing in the compound, her gaze fixed on Ifeanyi's hut. For a moment, Amina thinks she sees a smirk on Grandma's face, but it's gone before she can be sure.
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Grandma turns and locks her door, the sound echoing in the quiet night. Amina's footsteps fade as she disappears into the house, her mind racing with questions.
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Grandma steps into her hut. The room is dimly lit by a single kerosene lamp, its flickering light casting long shadows on the walls. The air is heavy with the scent of herbs and damp earth, a reminder of the river that flows not far from the compound.
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On the bed sits Mami Wata, her long, wet hair dripping onto the sheets. Her skin glows with an otherworldly light, her beauty both mesmerizing and terrifying. She smiles as Grandma enters, her teeth glinting like pearls.
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"Get off the bed," Grandma snaps, her voice sharp. "You're wetting it."
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Mami Wata tilts her head, her smile widening. "Be quiet, old woman. You forget who you're speaking to."
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Grandma hesitates, her expression hardening. She knows better than to provoke the spirit, but her patience is wearing thin. "Why haven't you taken Amina yet? It's been weeks."
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Mami Wata's smile fades, her eyes narrowing. "She has something protecting her. I can't put my finger on it yet, but it's strong. Whenever I get close to her, it feels like... like I'm being burned. Electrocuted, even."
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Grandma's eyes widen. "The god of thunder," she mutters, her voice low. "*Amadioha*. She must have a talisman of his."
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Mami Wata leans forward, her wet hair dripping onto the floor. "Then get rid of it. I can't take her while she's protected."
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Grandma nods, her mind racing. "I'll find a way. But you need to be patient. Amina isn't like the others. She's clever, and she's always had a strong will."
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Mami Wata's expression darkens. "I don't have time to be patient. Look at you."
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She gestures to Grandma, her gaze piercing. "You're 75 years old, but you look 40, don't you? That's because of the river. Because of the sacrifices. But it's been five years since you last drank its water, since you last washed your face in its depths. And now... now you're starting to fade."
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Grandma touches her face, her fingers tracing the faint lines that have begun to appear. "I was sick recently," she says, her voice tinged with bitterness. "I could feel it—my strength slipping away, my youth fading. I need Amina's soul. She's young, strong, full of life. But she's not easy to trick. Every time I try to take her, something pulls her out of my grasp."
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Mami Wata steps closer, her presence overwhelming. "You've always been loyal to me, *Nneoma*. But loyalty requires action. If you want to regain your youth, your health, you need to act quickly."
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Grandma's jaw tightens. "I'll find a way to remove the talisman. But you need to be careful. If Amina suspects anything, she'll fight back. And if her father finds out..."
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Mami Wata waves a hand dismissively. "Her father is a fool. He's too busy dreaming of wealth and status to see what's right in front of him. But you... you're different. You've always understood the price of power."
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Mami Wata smiles, her beauty once again radiant. "See that you do, *Nneoma*. Time is running out."
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With that, she vanishes, the water on the bed and floor disappearing with her. The room is silent, the only sound the faint crackle of the kerosene lamp.
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Grandma stands there for a moment, her mind racing. She knows what she has to do, but the thought of betraying Amina—her own granddaughter—weighs heavily on her. Still, she has no choice. Without Mami Wata's power, she'll fade too, her youth and beauty slipping away like sand through her fingers.
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She turns and walks to the small altar in the corner of the room, where a bowl of river water sits beside a handful of herbs. She dips her fingers into the water and whispers a prayer, her voice barely above a whisper.
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"*Amadioha*, god of thunder, forgive me for what I must do."
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