Dzidzor was furious.

She was so furious that there was a red sheen over everything she saw. Her hunter lied to her, right to her face. He made promises and he did not keep them leaving her stranded in this place, with no way of going back home to him.

Did he not want her? She was intelligent and would soon be a Vodun. She could read almost as well as he and that was after just 2 years of learning. Was she not attractive enough? Maybe she had been too bashful?

He was a bastard, a stupid lying bastard, she would think in her rage, trying and failing to vilify her hunter, but these thoughts did not stop her from standing in the waiting area for six hours every Saturday. She stood there in every weather; she would go back to her room with her face in a different shade that it was 6 hours ago, she would go back shivering in wet clothes when it rained and her hair would be in disarray every single time. She would curse him and insult him and hope for his death with tears in her eyes and acid in her heart but come the following week, she would still go and wait for him. He did not even write; he had completely and absolutely abandoned her.

After a while, she stopped being sad and started becoming angry. She would not cry, she would not moan in pain, she would just stand there and then at the end of the day, she would go back to her room, completely silent. One day, when it was raining, she got back to her room without looking back.

Now she was fuming. She looked in jealousy as parents would come and see their kids with food and love and books and various gifts. They would hug and kiss each other and then laugh loudly at jokes, slapping their knees, some even rolling on the floor. Her mates began to notice her as she stood in the waiting area alone week after week and taking pity on her, they would ask her to join their family. She would politely decline their offer and then continue staring at the entrance, hoping and praying that her hunter would just come. She would be satisfied if he came just once, only once. Seeing his face would set her raging heart to rest but he never came so she would walk back to her room, lie on her bed and try to imagine his face. Then like clockwork, the following day was entirely dedicated to her studies.

When they first got here, most were afraid, few were hopeful and fewer still were excited to be there. The new students were not much, about fifty in number, give or take 5 students. They were given a tour of the establishment. It wasn’t just a school; it was an entire community with protective agreements around it. This town was no different from the towns that she knew of, there were tall buildings, short ones, even huts, much like her hunter’s own.

Anyone without any spiritual connections could not enter the place, even if they wanted to. The community was within a deep dark forest with the doorway obscured at the base of a tall tree. What provided extra security was there were several hundreds of trees just like the first one. One had to know the exact tree to enter the community.

The most impressive building was the school itself. It was wide, about the width of three mansions standing side by side and it stood at an impressive 100 floors. It seemed to not only touch the sky but was a part of the sky. It had a reddish-brown hue that glistened and sparkled in the sunlight. It was called the Red Hut because it began from a simple hut made of clay and palm fronds but the name had not been changed to “preserve humble beginnings”. The actual hut was preserved on the ground floor with bright tape and agreements about it to prevent vandals from getting near it. The student dorms were located on floor number 30. It was above the various classrooms and training centers but below the administrative floors. There were 5 floors dedicated solely for apartments and habitation for the staff and students of the school and each floor had a dining hall. She did not know what to expect, but she did not expect to see modern technology. There were elevators, escalators and advanced alarms and security systems; by far the fanciest place Dzidzor had ever seen. The rooms were huge, almost as large as entire circumference of the hunter’s house, without the illusion agreement of course. She shared a room with six other girls, they introduced themselves but since she hardly spent time with any of them, she forgot their names. Each had a bed, arranged in a circle about the circular room with their wardrobes also arranged circularly in the middle of the room. Each student had a desk and chair, a lamp apart from the main lights on the ceiling, a mat and a window which was behind their bed. There were also curtains about their beds to maintain privacy. Each dorm had three bathrooms for two students to share. Dzidzor saw a huge white bowl with a shower head and a tap on it that could sit about 4 people which she got to know as a bathtub. Apparently, one was to lie in it with water inside. When she asked why, the girl she was sharing the bathroom with gaped at her like she had asked the most ridiculous question. There were two WCs and shower tubs for each girl surrounded with marble walls for privacy. Dzidzor had not seen such things in her life and as silly as it might’ve sounded, she found herself getting more and more uncomfortable with this place. She had never been to school; how would she know what to do and at which time? Would she get kicked out if she made a mistake? All the uncertainty scared her as well as the fact that she was the oldest in her room, in fact oldest of her year. Most of the children were about 12 years while she was 16 years of age, almost a grown up. This fact made her expect more from herself, if she wasn’t as good as any of them, it would give them a reason to laugh at her, and she would not allow that to happen.

Two weeks into being sent to the school, lessons hadn’t begun yet. They were learning the history of the school, as well getting themselves better acquainted with their surroundings and each other.

The official name of the school was Wagadu, named after an old empire better known to everyone as the Old Ghana Empire. Wagadu is based off the culture and the practices of its ancient namesake before it got invaded by the Muslims. Though most of the Soninke people converted, few were resilient and escaped the fall, migrating to Modern day Ghana where they tried to rebuild their civilization but the magic of the cultures they came to meet was too strong for them to overcome so they decided to intermarry and assimilate into the culture of the indigens to survive. As time went on, the Soninke people had ended up becoming a part of the Èʋegbe people but had integrated the magic and culture of the Old Ghana Empire into it so skillfully that no one can tell where the empire’s magic ended and where the Èʋegbe’s began. The need for a safe haven came about when wars, disputes and colonization arose. Children were left with no one to propagate culture and teachings to and thus a school was established. Wagadu ended up becoming the epitome for learning of African and other forms of magic for people all over, and not just for Èʋegbe’s and Ghanaians.

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As it was the first time Dzidzor had heard of anything like this, she paid rapt attention of every single detail brought forward to her while her mates used this time as a socialization front to get new friends and take advantage of the school’s wonderful facilities. She thought it was due to that fact that their parents went to this school as well and had told them. Or that they did not have to prove anything because of what their parents had already achieved. However, admission to Wagadu was dependent first and foremost on blood line before magical abilities. There were many normal children here, but due to the abilities of their parents, grandparents or even great grand-parents, they were allowed admission. There was even a family where the last person in the family who had magical abilities died almost 200 years ago and yet still the descendants were allowed admission. Their knowledge of magical abilities would help them prosper in the magical community.

Most at times, people with magical abilities were called witches and wizards, powerful medicine men and women and even magicians. They were all acceptable ways that they could be referred to but formally, people with magical abilities were called Afas and people without magical abilities were Anfas. It did not matter on magical ability but admission to Wagadu, if you went, are going to or will go to Wagadu, you were Afa, if not then you were an Anfa, no questions asked. Dzidzor did not know what she was, although the hunter had told her that her hands were blessed by the earth. All the same, if a person had magical abilities, with or without being admitted to Wagadu or any other magical school, they were Vodun.

After they had been properly briefed on history, schedules and what not, they were to be prepared for an orientation party where they would pledge allegiance to Wagadu and the spirits who served there. Dzidzor saw the way the other children dressed, they were always draped in the latest fashions, colorful and rich with family and cultural heritage while Dzidzor always wore plain clothes. She only had one dress suitable for the formal occasion, the kente dress the hunter got her and her black flats. Her hair was still in its traditional threaded style and she decided to keep it that way since she did not have any money. She could get money from Agatha but she did not want to see her again, as she did not like her. Agatha also never came to look for her, which was fine by her. She was fed three times a day at Wagadu and books and other important supplies that she might need appeared in her wardrobe when she needed it.

The day before the orientation party, as she was ironing her dress, her bathroom mate stood by Dzidzor, her face a look of displeasure and disgust. Her name was Esi and she was from Kumasi. She was 13, a bit older than everyone else in the room and more beautiful too. She was lighter in complexion and a bit shorter than Dzidzor. She was spoiled with all the things she needed by her family. She was always impeccably dressed and had lots of shoes, Dzidzor often wondered if she really had one pair of feet. Her hair was straight, like a white woman’s own and it was long, down to her back. She avoided water on her hair often and Dzidzor wondered why.

Esi stared at her for a long time, until Dzidzor stared at her right back her hands on her hips, daring her to say anything. Esi dared.

“You are not wearing that are you?” she pointed to the kente dress Dzidzor was ironing.

“Yes, I am. Any problem?”

“Ewuradze Nyankopon, of course there’s a problem!” the other girls in the room heard her outburst and began to laugh out loud “Don’t you have any other clothes?”

“I do, but this is my best” Esi’s jaw dropped. Upon seeing her reaction, the other girls began to laugh hysterically.

“Herh you people are making noise” Esi snapped turning to the other girls. They kept quiet immediately, their snapping turtle mouths silenced with her air of superiority “If you don’t have anything nice to say shut up.”

“I have nothing nice to say to that” one of the girls said, they began to laugh again but a loss less loudly this time.

“Looks like you’re going to be stuck at Level 1 for a long time.”

Levels were not based on age or how long one had stayed in Wagadu, it was dependent on how much one had learnt or improved in their lessons. If you were not improving, you could be stuck at one Level for the rest of your life. Technically, lessons at Wagadu ended at Level 5 but one could attain higher levels with personal training and learning or further education at highly niched places scattered all over the world. Most people ended personal growth at Level 5 as there was no need for higher level to get jobs and perform great feats. The highest house she had heard of was their headmaster, who was a Level 10. Wagadu wasn’t like a normal school, you could leave at any time you wanted, and there was no highest Level. It was required, however for students to study for at least one year.

The girl who Esi flipped off decided that she did not want to have a conversation with her anymore so she resumed looking at a fashion magazine with the other girls in the room.

“Don’t mind those girls, they’re foolish”

“How do I know that you’re not foolish as well?” Esi rested her hand under her chin, feigning to be deep in thought.

“Because I’m trying to help you, not laugh at you” Dzidzor thought about this for a while. She honestly thought Esi was just some stuck up girl from a rich family who went around helping people because it made her family look good but then Dzidzor needed help. Maybe she would accept her help this one time and then get a job later on to take her through. Dzidzor shrugged, telling Esi that she should go on and help her.

Esi opened her own closet, muttered some words and then reached in. What she brought out was the most beautiful kente dress she had ever seen. It had long sleeves made of lace which looked like it hugged the arms of the wearer and it brushed the ground when she moved. The skirt of the dress had an A-shape and then a small waist which perfectly hugged Dzidzor’s. At the back, the cut dipped to the middle of her back and it was made to accentuate her slender back and shoulder. It did not show her cleavage but it gave everyone a view of her long neck and cheekbones. The colors of the kente were mostly dark which brought her natural dark chocolate color.

“Vodun made this?” Dzidzor said breathless.

“Daabi,” Esi said, still looking at Dzidzor like there was more to be done “My stylist made this, I just copied it with your measurements” Dzidzor wondered how rich would she have to be to have a stylist “It’s the wardrobe, it has some agreements on it. It’s the first thing we’ll learn after orientation”

“Oh wow.”

“How new at this are you? Your parents didn’t tell you about magic or what?”

Dzidzor looked away, her stomach feeling sour and bitter “I don’t want to talk about it” Pity flashed Esi’s face but she did not say anything.

“It’s left with your hair.” Esi said, mischief glinting in her eyes.