Eaten by Worms

By McLwanga

Syokimau does the unthinkable. She commits a cardinal sin. Coming from the original seed of the witch-hunters, she marries DeVall, a member of the royal coven of witches. She breaks the principal law of the land; every kind must bring forth its kind. For the first time in the donkey's years, it is shattered... Which unleashes a hubbub... Stirring up mud from the bottom of the sea...

• Language: English
• Publisher: McLwanga
• Release date: Aug 19, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005859336

McLwanga

McLwanga fell in love with books at a young age and never recovered. He is a published author. He is pursuing his dream of being a Novelist and a Scriptwriter in between the multitudinous demands of adult life and his calling. He is also a freelance writer. When he has a free moment he enjoys a walk into the woods and reading the Bible and having a great time with his family.

Book preview

Preface

Worm-nism is an anagram that subsists the equivalent of a human desire to rule the other by riding on their weaknesses, a demon that has conquered the hearts of the people of Sisiland…

Chapter 1

¶Her obscure past gave rise to sickening mental images. It was so troubling that the effects threatened to agitate her social affairs and order. This situation gave her mental stress and anxiety. As best as one can, she tried so hard to understand her past, but to no avail. Inherently, she was a social butterfly. This disturbance of neural function threw her out of kilter. As a result, this had depressing aftermaths of her normal life. It conjured turmoil and emotional upset. On certain occasions, it forced her into seclusion, completely withdrawn from society. She had a particular gift that helped her people. Her past interrupted her. Deep within herself, she had no sufficient means to meet her simple need of being free from her experiences. It plagued her, yet she never understood the cause. All that she desired was to connect the dots and arrive at a more holistic conception of these sustained lackluster intolerable experiences. Her predicament reminded her of the woman who took her in when her life was a total mess. She missed her. Now that she was no more, it made her feel resentful. Her grave, which was in front of her every time she got out of the house, added more pain to her misery and distress. This woman could have helped her apprehend all these ingraining images that struck her dumb. That scream of a child tore her gaze and made her hold her head between her hands. She could see an outstretched hand slipping into a deep dark hole calling out, Mummy. She would try to offer help, yet there was a chasm between them. Shock shrouded her each time she saw the hand swallowed up by the obscure, husky hole. What offended her most, no matter how she tried, she could not see the face of the child. Only the hand unfurled for help. Could that be my child? This question lingered in her mind. From the little information she gathered from the people, she never had a child. While alone, seeing that her innocence had gone, being a mother was always inescapably a reality. Finding no answers, she opted to shut out the thought of being a mother. This, however, did not stop those baffling mental images. Over the years, she juggled helping the community and her need to know about her past. Then this unannounced day came along; a day that everything came tearing around like a bat out of hell. It was a calico motley of her past and the future happening simultaneously. She had mental flashes (more like visions) persisting in until at night with temporary breaks. It was a night that was as calm as a mouse, and one of exceeding darkness. The darkness that spelt inauspicious prophecy. These rather nights, Shakespeare would describe with precise rhyme as, ‘Fair is foul, and foul is fair…’ Earlier in the day, for no apparent reason, she experienced an escalating sense of prognostication. Images were getting stronger and furious. I could behold her often standing with one arm holding the remaining at the elbow. Frequently, she bounced a curled knuckle against her mouth due to what seemed to be sentimental blackmail. As though she had restless legs syndrome, she kept roaming around her compound. This kind of tension, not by any means, was helping her hypertension condition. Notwithstanding, she kept assuring herself that this was just a bad day; a severe case of the Monday blues. With the aid of practised breathing motions, a sigh of relief, as if releasing fatigue and emotional tension, flooded her soul.she felt at ease. Suddenly, she felt unsettled by this recurring interval step-up of ghostly emanations that came from the other world. This apparition rising, was like spiritual tapping at a seance. A meeting of spiritualists at the medium’s other-worldliness parlour. On account of tinnitus coming from the spiritual domain, she stopped her ears with her hands. In great haste, she hurried back into the house; spinning around, trying to spot any danger. She did this to unplug herself from the unseen, not knowing it was an impossibility. It was beyond her control. Inside the house, she clawed at her cheeks, dragging her fingers down. Then she saw a ghostly face appear at the window. She prayed the ground would just open and swallow her. I could describe it as the most terrible and chilling of spirits going bump in the night. Afraid, she walked on fours. The reason why she saw them during the day was disobliging. She became an internee of a mysterious presence of a powerful spiritual influence. No matter what she might try to do, she was a prisoner, bound to serve the will of a higher power. It was a rare experience. On impulse, the ghostly face vanished, leaving her stupefied. Mulling over the circumstance, she experienced a phantasmal presence in her dingy room. This was an augury of a supernatural manifestation of an evil force stalking her. Afraid, she backed away in quick, jerky steps from a daemon that she sensed was watching her. In the thick of it, she jolted, causing many slips and a few spills. Sticking it out in that situation for another moment was unthinkable. She wanted to run for the hills to disentangle herself from the morbid fear of being closed in a confined space. Akin to hopes that last but a moment, no matter how much she desired, she could not even move a step. She slouched, sliding down to the floor. Feeling woozy from vasoconstriction, a severe headache smote her. Her blood pressure obstinately increased, knocking her down on the floor, unconscious. In that difficult situation, she lay there motionless, struggling to stay alive. She frothed, belly breathing, and showing significant muscle spasms. The prophetess did not have the energy even to shout for help. If it were not for a neighbour who checked on her, she would have died that day.

¶It subjected Syokimau to constant suffering, a cost she had to pay for spiritual awakening. This was the price she will pay to plug into entities beyond the immediate and physical world. Some forces blocked her from accessing the integral spiritual realm. It was spiritual warfare. As the point of contact, the effect of bypassing the gatekeepers left her body looking sapless. Before this day, Syokimau had gone through horrendous spiritual experiences; but reaching the third dimension spiritually was something new to her. It drained her of energy, enfeebling her altogether. With this emotional sensation burdening her throughout the day, at nightfall, she felt completely washed out. Her soul and mind needed a pause for relaxation. That was the ground for her sleepy, shrivelling eyelids. Unlike any other normal day she slept in, this portentous day she hit the hay early, dog-tired. It was a chilling night, except for the chirping of crickets, which quieted the dragons of worry and fear. This lulled her to slumber land. Cold as a witch’s tit, she clasped her hands together, en-wrapping closely to have an agreeable warmth around her. Close at hand, it seemed she shivered like the leaves of an aspen in a breeze. Besides, she was breathing heavily, blurting out mumbled sounds, perspiring profusely. Obviously, by close inspection, her eyebrows displayed sagging eyebrows because of the effects of senescence. The sagging of her eyes showed she was a senior citizen. Judging by her joggling movements, the prophetess was dreaming. This dream was a culmination of the forewarning she had throughout the day. In the dream, Syokimau had a presentiment that an evil eye was watching over the land. Something icky was in the wind. Being a vaticinator, the community of Sikamba in Sisiland looked up to her for perceptive counsel. Such importance was this unusual dream which centred on her community. Her past did not matter anymore. It was about the safety of her community and Sisiland at large.

¶Under normal circumstances, she should have latched on to the rationale for the maxim, ‘no rose without a thorn.’ An explicit definition of ‘seeing no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil.’ Syokimau should not have cared a hang about the future of Sisiland. In the wake of spiritual regeneration at a tender age, this, to her, was a very special disposition from a divine source to pursue this noble course. Sometimes we do not choose to be. Destiny chooses us and calls with a high calling. We are born with these gifts. Syokimau was like the lighthouse keeper in the community of Sikamba. Usually, with such laurels of honour, you would expect eagles not to catch flies. Though she received deferential regard from the community, her sanctum differed from chalk and cheese. Most of the time, Syokimau felt lonely, overwhelmed, and dejected. In the public eye, she tried to look cheerful and strong, hence proving to be tried and true. In the full glare of publicity, Syokimau was quite a dependable servant of the gods and man. Off the back foot, everyone has these dark patches on their skins of life. Even those we see to be perfect models struggle with ceilings of hidden helplessness. This makes us human and serves as an equilibrium. She had a family, but due to coveting and greed, she lost her entire family. They wiped her memory out, except for the images of her son, whom she could not remember. They lived on top of a hill, (sequestrated) one would only enter the gate through a special spiritual code. Behind it was a strongly fortified, defensive structure. While inside, it was a castle. Syokimau had just been married to a powerful witch in a secret wedding. Her family comprised over-scrupulous witch-hunters. Right from the beginning, they were opposed to this relationship. They warned and ordered her to stay clear of the toxic relationship. Witch-hunters had no dealings with the witches except for carrying out feuds. Her grandmother was the leader of the witch-hunters. She was a gadfly, always asking, demanding to know how many covens they obliterated. Sokimau’s grandmother ordered for all covens to be blotted out. Even though they eradicated all the witches, there was this aura of a powerful coven straying untamed. Witch-hunters could not trace them by scent or via their auditory sense. Every time, the coven was ahead of time. This day, the witch-hunters were very tenacious because one of them had disappeared like a mist. Syokimau had disappeared without a trace, the only line of descent. It was a dilemma. This had never occurred before. She was born unique. She could see things before they happened and give a warning or advice accordingly. Syokimau’s duty was to help the witch-hunters to locate the covens. For this reason, Syokimau was of extreme importance to the witch-hunters. Opposed to the expectation, there was this coven she loved so much. She swore to protect them at any expense. She knew it was suicidal, but she had prepared herself to take that chance. These two families could never relate, leave alone espouse. Witch-hunters disallowed it. The law demanded each was kind to bring forth its kind. It was a law that no one would dare to break. The punishment they meted out on any victim would by the same law be death by hanging. Syokimau transgressed that first law in the chronicles of witch-hunters by association. Syokimau stood in the breach every time they came closer to killing off this royal coven. She was in love, though they were star-crossed lovers. The family feud was all doom and gloom for their relationship. Syokimau loved DeVall so much. Many a time and oft, Syokimau sneaked and spent time with him. She was always careful to be back on time. Unfortunately, something unexpected happened. She never turned in. It was a major concern at the castle of the witch-hunters. The coven’s home was concealed underground. No one could enter except through a spell. Syokimau loved this young man. He was handsome, powerful, and wealthy, yet to mingle was a cardinal sin. He was annoying because he was taking too long to propose. There’s something I need to show you! He said with a glow in his eyes. She followed with implicit trust. He took her to the breathtaking scenery of nirvana. Wow! Where’s this place? She asked with joy. You like it? He asked with a sense of satisfaction. He took pleasure in seeing her zest at the scenery. It was a perfect place for his regal mission. He knelt with one knee. The splendour of the scenery captivated her. Syokimau did not see him kneel. She turned around, mesmerised by the sight, she whispered. What are you doing? He put his hand in his topcoat pocket silently. He took out a nice talisman. Would you marry me? Syokimau felt a mixed rush of emotions. She wanted to cuddle him, instead she cried. Did I say anything wrong? He asked, confused. She shook her head. He stood up. Was it so soon? He asked with concern. We’ll never be free. My family will kill us, especially you DeVall. she added sadly. I’m more than willing to die for you. This puzzled Syokimau. She turned to walk away at the thought of he was in great danger. She could not imagine living a life without him. The only way to protect him was to stay away from him. He grabbed her wrist. Look… we were born to be together. That you can’t deny us. What do we do now? Right now I’m sure they’re looking for me. Syokimau conveyed deep caution. Please don’t go… we’ve got a wedding tomorrow! What? Without you telling me to prepare? I have arranged Everything. All I need is for you to say… yes. How could she refuse? The witch-hunters were on the prowl, turning everything upside down, looking for her. The witches forced them into this dire emergency. How can she just disappear into thin air? Grandmother asked desperately. She had joined in the search. She had a superior sense of smell and vision. Syokau could sense a coven nearby, but the scent faded away as quickly as it came. She stood right on top of the underground castle where the wedding was taking place. I can sense Syokimau nearby… but something is distracting me. There’s this powerful force… like a strong magical incantation around here. And this means one thing… we’re dealing with a powerful force. She warned. Syokau crouched with one knee on the ground; taking a scoopful of soil with her right hand and whiffing it. It was around there, Syokau was sure. Watching over around as though a witch was watching her, she stood abruptly. Someone is watching us… we must go now. For the first time, Syokau was afraid of a witch.

¶The wedding was a covert affair. There were no guests invited, yet the event was characterised by excess and abundance. Syokimau loved everything that was happening around her. She wanted it to be forever, but the thought of her grandmother spoiled her day. Syokau was never-ending, unforgiving, and extremely vicious. That monopoly of her lineament terrified Syokimau. She knew her grandmother would never stop until she found her hideout. Was she in the penitentiary? She brushed aside such thoughts. It was her big day; and a bride is supposed to be happy, so she thought. That night, they consumed the wedding. Syokimau finally had her man as a husband. When she woke up, he was not next to her. There was this terrifying silence that instilled the castle. It was a strange phenomenon since the first day she visited the castle. There was a tone of saturating suspicion. It caused her so much anxiety as if an ill-defined misfortune had occurred. She changed quickly into her nightgown and went for the exit. The exit could not open. Fear kindled in her eyes. She peeped through the windows. Nothing was visible. She stumbled and fell on her bed. You need to calm down, young lady! That voice made her world freeze. Syokimau tried to turn to see who was in her bedroom. The strange guest terrified her. I’ll not hurt you. She felt the assurance, but she could not trust the person behind her. How did she gain entry into my bedroom? This thought weighed her down. I’m Sofia… Her husband had mentioned that name. Sofia scared her even more when she mentioned her name. But you died? Yes… I did… but had to come back. Syokimau turned around slowly. Sofia was full of years, yet her beauty was visibly captivating. Sofia had silver-white hair, yet her face looked youthful. The door… Yeah, it’s closed… I closed before I came in. Syokimau tried to figure that out. Sofia could read her thoughts. I had to protect you first… they were everywhere! Protect me from who… what? You don’t know? What are you talking about? You’ve to come with me if you want to live. I can’t leave my husband… we just got married. If you love him, you got to protect his child. Her head was now spinning. What’s wrong with you? We’re newly wedded. She moved close to her and held her face between her hands. Sweetheart… you’re pregnant! Pregnant? She drawled. Sofia straightened up while Syokimau stalked her. I’m confused… can’t we at least wait for him? He has a right to know I’ve his child. Sofia ignored her peeping through the window. She could see what was transpiring outside. Kiweu, an adopted son, had sold the family out to the witch-hunters. He wanted the castle to himself. We’ve to go now…! She commanded. The doorknob moved, Syokimau held Sofia. Sofia teleported her to a different location. A secret hideout. Where are we? How did… This is your home now. Mwende will take care of you until you give birth. I’m not pregnant. She retorted. Sofia ignored her as Mwende extended a hand to greet her. Welcome home prophet. Prophet? What’s wrong with you people? I demand to see my husband. She said, from behind, she heard a voice. That’s not possible. Why is everybody sneaking up on her like this? Who’re these people? We’re the guardians. The man responded as he pushed his wheelchair forward in front of her. Looked at him closely. He was not invalid. It was not just a wheelchair, but a chariot to transport him wherever he wanted. It filled her with curiosity, but she dodged the issue. You can read my thoughts…? And much more. So… what happened at the castle? Your kind… sorry… witch-hunters… Before he could finish the statement, Syokimau wailed at the top of her voice. No voice was coming from her mouth. She motioned, pointing at her mouth. Your voice is still there. Calm down. Sofia interjected. How could she calm down? She thought. Her grandmother had killed everybody, including her husband. The only person who amounted to something in her life was dead. Their marriage was just a day old. They would never have an anniversary. Syokimau held her belly and looked at the man in front of her. He nodded, assuring her she was expectant. Mwende, show her the guest room… I’m sure she is exhausted." She did not know if she should feel amused about her baby or seek revenge for her husband.

¶Kiweu had taken over the castle. He threw a party to thank Kimena for her help. She’s the witch-hunter who made this take over possible. She negotiated for the arrangement. Sofia called for an urgent meeting. Someone betrayed the family and had to pay dearly. Family? How was she a guardian then? Syokimau wondered. You pester yourself a lot with minor issues. When we die having done good deeds here on earth, we go through transubstantiation, becoming guardians. There’s much to know, but we must take care of some important matters. The man in the wheelchair explained. Thank you for your kindness. Syokimau appreciating the explanation. Everyone turned around, studying her closely. Sofia called everyone to attention. Well… back to the order of business. There’ll be a party tonight at the castle. We need to attend. Yeees!… it’s a long time since we had fun. Kilomo joined in. Pay attention Kilomo! Sofia roared. There was stillness. You must know by now Kiweu has taken some precautions. There are so many guards right now at the castle. More so, he must’ve made some powerful alliances. Probably they would outnumber us. Sofia noted. Then I must join the party… Syokimau demanded. All turned, gazing at her as though they had seen a ghost. Look… you’re not a guardian… and this is not for the expectant. I’m not expectant… there’s nothing here! You need my help. There are things you can’t see, but I can. She replied. Kiweu had sold his soul to the devil. The castle was full of demons. Guardians would find it hard to kill them. That is where Syokimau came in handy. These demons were not like witches. They are quick, always riding on the wings of darkness every time they attack. She took everybody’s attention when she spoke of demons. They were not a match for the guardians in and of themselves, but without a guide, they would lose some of them. Sofia perceived she was right. Carrying the baby of a witch and being in the lineage of witch-hunters made her powerful. That she was a daughter of the light made her even more special. She believed in Mulungu, the creator of the universe. Demons feared her presence. OK… on one condition… you’ll get out of there alive. Everyone, I need Kiweu alive! They had schemed well. The entry to the castle was only through the heavily guarded gate. Each person who entered was by invitation. The guards had to look at the list of names to confirm. If your name happened not to be on that list, they considered you an enemy. They executed everybody who came uninvited. I can take care of our entry. Just get yourselves party dresses. Could they trust her unproven abilities? One mistake would make them killed. Nzika was not in agreement. He whispered to Sofia. We can’t place our lives in her hands. We can’t presume her abilities. What if she’s not what you think? We can easily get killed. You’re right Nzika… but can we trust you with the demons? He was quiet. I thought so… our only hope is in this girl. We must eliminate the threat of Kiweu. Jealous can be quite evil. She rose to her feet. Listen to everybody… prepare to party. We enter before midnight. Dressed and ready for the party, they left. Sofia noticed Nzika armed to the teeth. I don’t think that’s necessary… return those weapons. We go to a fight without weapons? I didn’t say we’re without weapons… they are inside the castle in Syokimau’s room. Sofia’s ingenuity amazed Syokimau. No wonder she died and came back.

¶They arrived outside the castle. Syokimau walked as though she was on a catwalk show towards the main gate. Legion of buffs heavily guarded the gate. Hi, gentlemen… Can you open the gate? What’s your name, beautiful? She could not use her real name. My name is… Ca… Casey… yes Casey! You’re not sure of your name? Are you from the west? That name isn’t from here. Yes, we’ve come from a far country. We’re special guests. Guests? How many are you? For we’ve only five remaining names on the list. What? He looked again, and they were many more on the list. The exact number of those standing outside the gate. What has just happened? He rubbed his eyes. Is there a problem? I’m not sure… but… Are you going to turn away guests? He lifted his eyes from the list and saw the rest of the group. Are all these your friends? Yes… she said curtly. He hesitated and opened the door without asking for their names. Syokimau astonished everyone, including Nzika. How did she do that? He asked Sofia. Stick to the plan. Let’s all separate and meet at Syokimau’s room, door number seven, left-wing on… third floor. Syokimau follows me. In a moment they were in Syokimau’s room. They armed themselves with silver daggers, silver dust, and olive oil. Nzika did not want any of these weapons. Can’t I get a sword or something? I love heavy stuff. Sofia gave him a sword from under the bed. They all crouched down to see what was under the bed. All of them added some more weapons. For the demons, make sure you… Cut off the neck. Nzika cut off Syokimau. She shook her head. Why does he know everything? Can’t he listen for once? Syokimau thought of him. I don’t need your help! He responded to her thoughts. Can I just be left to think here? Then stop thinking. Sofia had enough of this. You think this is a game? You can easily die there. I can take care of myself. He miffed and walked away. Detached from each other, they did a reconnaissance by fire to locate the demons. They didn’t care most about the rest of the guards. They quietly eliminated most of the demons. Nzika made the fundamental mistake of chopping the head of one. At first, the sword swung through the air. The demon was quick and evaporated like a mist. There was now a cry to arms to alert other demons they were under attack. Nzika questioned his abilities for the first time. He had never seen such momentum and action. He timed well and cut the throat of the demon. Nzika smiled with satisfaction. You think you can handle me? He bragged. The next thing he saw, the demon stood on his feet. Surprised, he turned around to get a clear sight. Abruptly, he felt a sharp object go through his spine sticking out of his stomach. He gasped and painted. Syokimau saw it. Attack the spine of the demons not any other place if it’s a weapon. Syokimau shouted. It was an out-and-out mayhem. Syokimau positioned herself well. She could see every demon’s action. She steered the guardians well. They were victorious. All this time, the party continued undisturbed. Music chimed across the hall. As they took satisfaction at the moment, the demon lord appeared on the scene. He was tumultuous, seeking revenge for his fallen demons. He was electrifying, fast, and powerful. By a twist of his finger, they thrust the guardians against the wall. In a fraction of a second, all were laying on the floor with agonising pain. Luckily, Syokimau arrived on the scene. The demon lord glimpsed a glimmer in her. He tried to vanish, but Syokimau could not let him. She pulled him close. Your day of judgement has come. She sloshed the olive oil on his face. He wormed in pain, his face burning. She somersaulted over him. Drew her sword midway and with verve stubbed the demon’s spine. He turned into dust. Her abilities hypnotised all the guardians. She did not look like a warrior, but she did more than that. Returning her sword, she turned to her friends. I hope everyone is alive… except for Nzika, of course. They did not realise he was dead until now. Sofia was the most affected. He was like a son to her. Where’s he? Sofia asked, defeated. Syokimau pointed upstairs. They all assembled around him. As they mourned him, Syokimau collapsed. Sofia quickly went to check on her. Quickly… the demons wounded her. Kivya, take her home and let Mwende tend to her wounds. The rest, we must finish the job we came for. What about him.? Kivya pointing at Nzika. My father will take care of him. Father? Kivya asked, surprised. The man in the wheelchair. He’s my father. They all gazed at her inquiringly. When were you planning to tell us? One guardian asked. Now you know. Let’s get back to work. The guardians joined the dance floor. Kiweu was having fun with Kimena at the top table. Suddenly, the guardians placed daggers on the back of those who were on the top table. Sofia motioned that they all acted normal. Sofia and another guardian took Kiweu and Kimena and teleported them to their place. Once they landed safely, the rest faded away like a cloud of smoke. They left everyone on the top table, scared to move. The music was even louder. After a few minutes, the music suddenly died. The crowd shouted with dissatisfaction. Lights then deemed. There was chaos in the castle. Those close to Kiweu knew this was the work of the demons. Someone shouted. Everybody out! The party is over! That voice was familiar. It was Kiweu, the host. Everybody left the castle. Kiweu laughed diabolically. He knew in a few minutes, the demons would save him. After a while, nothing happened. He despaired. Waiting for someone to rescue you, boy? Nobody is coming. Please, I’ll do anything you wish. I don’t know what came over me. Don’t kill me. Now you want mercy? Did you show them mercy when you massacred them like chicken? The punishment for sin is death. However, it’ll not be quick. I’ll subject you to grave torture. She took him outside and opened a shaft. She cast him off into a bottomless pit. He screamed as he dropped into the endless, bottomless abyss. She closed the shaft quickly and went back to avoid releasing the original demons to the earth.

¶The witch-hunters missed the company of Syokimau. Her grandmother, Syokau, stressed out about losing her. She aged everyday and her health was deteriorating. She wished to see her granddaughter before she died. Syokau raised her as her own. Her parents died when a group of covens attacked the castle. Over the years, they developed a strong bond. She loved Syokimau, although she was stubborn. Syokau always sat on her favourite swing, waiting for her to come back. Everyone who passed by pitied her. You could hear whispers around the castle. Many times, she refused to eat. Deep down, she knew her granddaughter could not forgive her for killing her husband. She did not like witches, but she felt she made a mistake by killing that coven. It haunted her. You can’t live with this guilt trip. You should let go. We had to do it… we’re witch-hunters. She drew a dagger from his sheath and drove it through his stomach. He was a high-ranked witch-hunter. She took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the dagger. The rest rushed to the garden, surprised by what had come about. Nobody uttered a word. It was clear as crystal. She had lost it. I want my granddaughter now! There was tension. They all walked away with no plan. They assembled outside the gate. What do we do now? There was a party at Kiweu’s castle sometimes back… And so? Just listen… at that party they invited Kimena. If we can trace her, we can know where Syokimau is. How? We can’t smell the scent of our own. But we can use our mark to locate her… How could I forget that? Kinze, show us the dance. Right now you take the place of the slain bandmaster. The second in command suggested. He surprised Kinze, being a lady. No other woman except grandma led a band of witch-hunters. OK… if you say so. She quickly agreed. The position came with special privileges.

¶Syokimau gave birth to a son. His arrival changed her life. He brought so much joy to her dark world. She saw her husband in him. They were very much alike, especially the eyes. Sofia felt unusually uneasy that morning. She walked around like she had a premonition. On a hunch, she went to see Kimena. She found the mark at the nape glowing. Hastily, she called the rest. They’ve located us. Pack what you can and let’s get out of here. Before the words left her mouth, the witch-hunters had grabbed Syokimau and her son, Nzoka. Her son had been training as a warrior. Sofia is one excellent trainer. This incident presented an opportunity for him to test himself. Sofia discerned what was in his mind. She signalled him. Sofia distracted them. Nzoka drew a sword from one witch-hunter who stood in front of him. A few heads rolled. His mother shouted. Son… run… go! They’re too many. As he turned, other witch-hunters landed on the scene. Nzoka tensed. Not knowing what to do, he turned a corner and hid. He peeked to put out feelers to run. They threw a dagger towards him (two, actually). He evaded one, but the other went into his eyeball. Kinze was fast with daggers. With excruciating pain, Nzoka pulled out the dagger. It left his cranial orbit void. Without attention to the pricking pain, he continued to run. The guardians escaped, but they took Syokimau. That’s how Nzoka ended with the commoners. Nzoka kept some distance from the commoners. He refused to mingle with them.

¶When grandmother saw Syokimau, she rose from her chair unamused. She missed her granddaughter, yet a strong restless desire to punish her was urging her to get over with it. Betwixt and between, grandmother wanted her dead, but love for her made her hold back. Without premeditation, she stretched her right hand towards her granddaughter. A strong, luminous stream of light enveloped Syokimau’s head. She thrashed about as if her soul was leaving her. To the rest, it appeared like an epileptic seizure at first, only to realise Syokau was effacing her memory. Syokimau was in excruciating pain and her grandmother was not relenting. She landed on the ground with a great flop. Bring her to the chamber. She growled. No one wanted to take part in carrying her. Grandmother turned with blazing eyes as if to compel them. She got to the chamber in a short while. Everybody out! Grandmother ordered. Syokimau gained consciousness, but her mind was blank. Who’re you? Grandma inquired. Syokimau squinted at her like a bag of nails. What’s your name? Still, there was no answer. Grandma swept away all her memories. She did not mean to make her ineffectual. Anger made her overdo it. She embraced her and cried. Grandma tried to fill her with witch-hunter memories. Nothing was working, a force blocked her powers. She gave up and walked out. On her way out, she almost bumped into her aid. Try to see if she can understand our ways. She walked towards the swing in the garden, wiping her nose. The effects traumatised Syokimau. Syokau’s aid could tell. After many days of waiting, Syokimau did not show any signs of improvement. Her presence was tormenting her grandma with guilt. Get her away from here… take her anywhere but make sure she stays alive. They took her outside a village in Sikamba, hoping someone would find her and help her. They waited until an old woman took her in. This old woman, barren all her days, was blessed with Syokimau. Kyendi treated her well, just like her own. Kyendi was born with a special gift. She could see her past. This way, she understood Syokimau needed help to get her memories back. Kyendi held both her hands and let Syokimau see her past. Yet some pieces were missing. Even Kyendi did not see that part of her having a son. She let Syokimau keep those images in her mind. Syokimau recovered, but Kyendi died a fortnight after she had recovered. She mourned her as a mother. That is how Syokimau inherited Kyendi’s property. Syokimau’s gift became crisper. She could see the past, see the future. She helped the community and became respected as a prophet, yet she felt lonely over the years. To puzzle out this problem of forlornness, she opted to marry a woman, Iweto, in Sikamba. Culture allowed her to get a woman to bear her