As the sun rose on the horizon, the entire village had gathered at the gate, anxiously awaiting Amari's return. Conversations filled the air, as people discussed their concerns and fears about the journey ahead. Raji could be seen speaking with some of them, trying to allay their worries and assure them that everything would be alright.
Uncle Jabbar stood off to the side, his hand resting on a wooden statue that closely resembled his late wife. He was lost in his thoughts, his mind far from the bustling activity around him.
As the minutes ticked by, the tension began to build. Just when it seemed like Amari might not return, he emerged on the horizon. A large crowd followed behind him, many of them members of the tribe who had been living in the town. They were haggard, but relieved, and they looked to the chief for direction.
The chief approached Amari, who was now standing in front of him, "Were there any problems?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.
"A few of Mbaya's men were in the town, but I took care of them," Amari replied, with a fierce glint in his eye. The villagers let out a collective sigh of relief.
As Amari stood before the chief, he added, "Some of those following me are not members of our tribe, but they expressed their desire to escape with us."
The chief looked over the crowd, taking note of the new faces. He then looked at Amari and replied," We welcome them, and accept them to join our migration."
Some members of the tribe who were already in the village asked the chief, "Are we leaving now?"
The chief replied, "We are waiting for the Imamu."
And then, from out of nowhere, the Imamu appeared, holding a white baby goat. The chief approached him. The villagers waited anxiously as they watched the chief and the Imamu whisper in hushed tones.
The chief then turned to the crowd. "My people, the time has come for us to march! We have suffered long enough, trapped in the shackles of oppression and fear. But today, the gods have shown us the path to freedom. They have heard our cries and come to guide us to a land where we will no longer be enslaved.
We know not what lies ahead, but we trust in the gods. They will lead us to safety and prosperity. They will lead us to a new beginning. We leave our past behind and embrace the future. We abandon our fears and trust in the guidance of the gods.
Let us stand as one, united in hope and determination. The journey ahead will be hard, but together we will face it. The gods are with us, and they will see us through. Let us march forth, with courage in our hearts and hope in our souls. Together, we will find our new home under the guidance of gods and lead by the Imamu."
The villagers let out a cheer as the chief gave the signal to depart. The journey ahead would be perilous, but with the guidance of the gods, and the leadership of the chief, they knew they would be able to reach a safe haven. They set off, determined to leave their past behind, and embrace a new future. In total, they were nearly three hundred, all of them heading in the direction of the southern wastelands.
The journey was long and arduous, and the tribe pressed on despite the challenges they faced. They trekked through scorching deserts and over rugged terrain, confronting numerous obstacles along the way. The relentless sun beat down on them, draining their energy and leaving them feeling dehydrated and fatigued. Some members of the tribe grew weary from the constant walking, their feet sore and blistered from the rough terrain.
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But they persevered, knowing that they had to reach the other side. They came across a rocky mountain that loomed in the distance, its peak obscured by clouds. The path towards the mountain was perilous and steep, with jagged rocks and loose gravel making the ascent even more difficult. The tribe pushed on, one step at a time, determined to reach the other side. The rocky terrain took its toll on their feet, and some members had to be assisted by others, who offered them a helping hand and encouraged them not to give up.
Despite the treacherous journey, the tribe continued to press on, driven by their desire to reach the other side. They knew that the mountain was their only hope for a better future, and they were willing to do whatever it takes to get there. With each step, they drew closer to the summit and the promise of a new beginning.
Raji and the other young men of the tribe helped the elder and children with the climb, carrying their belongings as they helped them up the steep path. As they neared the top, fatigue began to set in, and it was clear that they would not make it to the top before sunset.
As the sun set behind them, casting the landscape in a warm orange glow, the tribe finally reached the top of the mountain. Raji silently prayed to the gods for a rainstorm to wash away their footpaths.
In front of them stood a large cave, the entrance dark and foreboding. The tribe was filled with a sense of unease, but the Imamu stepped forward and assured them that this was the place the gods had guided them to.
The chief motioned for everyone to enter the cave, and as they did, they were greeted with a breathtaking sight. Inside the cave was a vast cavern filled with radiant plant life and light. In the distance, trees could be seen, and it appeared as though the cave led to an exit. The impressive part was that the cave was located at the summit of a rocky mountain, yet it was enormous and well-lit, even though the sun had set.
A translucent, milky film covered the entrance of the cavern, blocking much of the light from leaving the cave. The Imamu confidently walked through the film, and the milky surface rippled like water. The crowd hesitated at first, but seeing the Imamu unharmed on the other side, they slowly followed through.
Raji passed through the water-like surface, but to his surprise, he felt nothing. It was as if it didn't exist. He did, however, notice that the air was much fresher on the other side. He turned to his father and said, "I didn't believe it, but the gods have truly guided us here."
The chief smiled at his son, "Yes they have, and we have much to be grateful for."
The chief faced his tribe, who had all traversed through the portal, some of them settled on the grass, quenching their thirst from a stream flowing through the cave. He said, "Let us take a break here and continue our journey when we have regained our strength."
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Bami, the leader of the Foute tribe, rested under a large tree with his people. It was nightfall, and they were all tired from their long journey. They had set up camp for the night and were starting to relax after a hard day's travel. All of a sudden, riders appeared on the horizon, galloping towards them at breakneck speed. Dust clouds followed in their wake as they approached the tribe, surrounding them under the tree.
A man stepped out from the midst of the riders, dressed in dark robes. It was dark so his face couldn’t be seen. His eyes scanned the tribe as if he were looking for someone. He approached Bami, the leader of the tribe, and asked him “Did you think you could run from me”.
Bami's face contorted in anger as he realized that they had been found. He sneered at the man, "You will never take us alive, M'kuu Mbaya."
M'kuu Mbaya, the leader of the riders, didn't pay him any mind. He simply looked at Bami with a cold, calculating gaze. "Don’t worry," he said, "That’s what I had planned to do."
Bami's anger turned to desperation as he realized his meaning. He shouted curses at M'kuu Mbaya, his voice filled with hatred and venom. But M'kuu Mbaya didn't flinch, instead he gave a nod to some of his men. They dismounted from their horses and approached Bami, weapons at the ready.
Bami’s heart was pounding in his chest as the warriors closed in on him, but he refused to go down without a fight. He brandished his cutlass and shouted at his tribe to fight back. He then charged into the approaching warriors.
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