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Jb Da Silva Usman, Ikeja (2025)

07/09/2025

Ogbanje - Episode 10
~The Gathering Storm~

The morning after the flood attack, Amaka sat silently in Tunde’s room. Her clothes still smelled faintly of river water, though everything had dried. Her face was pale, her eyes red from lack of sleep.

Tunde paced restlessly. His Bible lay open on the table, but his mind was heavy. He stopped, looking at her. “We can’t fight her alone, Amaka. Last night proved it. We need reinforcement.”

Amaka’s voice trembled. “Reinforcement? From who? She’s not just an ordinary queen. She is the queen of the marine kingdom.

Tunde took her hand firmly. “Then we need people who know how to battle kingdoms.”

That evening, they went to see Pastor Elijah, a man widely respected on campus. He was known not for loudness, but for deep authority in prayer. Some said when he spoke, even cult boys trembled.

When they explained everything, Pastor Elijah didn’t flinch. He listened quietly, eyes closed as though seeing beyond their words. Finally, he opened his eyes and said slowly:
“You are not fighting a mere spirit. The Ogbanje Queen is an ancient covenant keeper. Once she marks someone, she claims them for her kingdom. That’s why she fights so hard for you, Amaka.”

Amaka’s chest tightened. “So what do I do? Will I ever be free?”

Pastor Elijah leaned forward. “Freedom is certain but not cheap. The covenant must broken, and the Queen dethroned. This isn’t just deliverance; this is war. Are you ready?”

Tunde answered for both of them: “We’re ready.”

Meanwhile, in the unseen world, the Queen sat on her watery throne, her rage unquenchable. Her voice echoed through the dark caverns of her kingdom:

“They dare to summon allies against me? Then let us show them the weight of a true kingdom!”

With a wave of her hand, spirits began to gather: pale maidens with flowing hair, warriors forged from water and shadow, whispering winds carrying curses. The Queen’s laughter filled the realm. “Let them bring pastors, let them bring prophets — none can overthrow a throne that has stood for centuries!”

Back in the physical, Pastor Elijah prepared. He called two other ministers: Sister Grace, a quiet intercessor known for hours of prayer, and Brother Kunle, a fiery evangelist. Together with Tunde and Amaka, they formed a small circle that night in the campus chapel.

The atmosphere was tense. The lights flickered. Outside, the wind howled strangely. Amaka could feel her heart pounding, every shadow seeming to move.

Pastor Elijah raised his voice: “Tonight, we do not pray for survival. Tonight, we declare war. This Ogbanje Queen has troubled too many lives, but her time is up!”

The group began to pray. At first, it was steady, calm. But soon, the room shook with power. Tongues of fire echoed. Scriptures were declared. Songs of warfare rose into the air.

Amaka prayed harder than she ever had, tears streaming down her face. For the first time, she wasn’t just praying out of fear — she was praying with anger, with defiance.

Suddenly, the air grew cold. A scream pierced the chapel. The Queen appeared — not as a faint shadow, but fully formed, towering, radiant in terrifying beauty. Her white hair floated around her, her crown burning.

“You dare?” she hissed, her voice shaking the windows. “You bring these mortals against me?”

The room shook violently. Some of the chairs toppled. The Queen raised her hand, and water seeped up through the chapel floor, snaking toward the praying group.

Amaka froze. “She’s here…”

But Pastor Elijah didn’t flinch. His voice thundered: “The earth is the Lord’s, and the fullness thereof! You have no legal ground here, Queen of shadows. By the covenant of the blood of Jesus, we break your hold!”

The Queen screamed, covering her ears as if the words burned. The water halted, trembling.

But then she laughed bitterly. “You think your little prayers can dethrone me? I have ruled for centuries. I will not bow to a handful of mortals!”

With a wave of her hand, figures began to appear behind her — a host of pale maidens, their eyes glowing. The chapel filled with the scent of river water and decay.

Amaka gasped. “She brought an army!”

The pressure in the room was suffocating. Some of the prayer warriors staggered, clutching their chests. Sister Grace groaned, collapsing to her knees, whispering weakly, “The oppression… it’s heavy…”

Tunde grabbed Amaka’s hand, raising it. “No! We won’t fear! Greater is He that is in us than he that is in the world!”

The battle raged. The Queen hurled waves of water that smashed against the walls. The prayer group countered with scripture, each verse breaking the force like invisible shields.

Brother Kunle’s voice was like fire. “Every ancient covenant, break! Every throne of darkness, scatter!”

Sister Grace, though weak, began to sing softly — a worship song that cut through the chaos. The more she sang, the more the spirits trembled.

The Queen roared, furious. “Silence her!” She sent two maidens rushing at Sister Grace. But before they could reach, a blinding light erupted from her — invisible chains shattered, and the maidens dissolved into mist.

Amaka’s strength surged. For the first time, she stood boldly, stepping toward the Queen. Her voice rang out, trembling but strong:

“You don’t own me anymore. I am not your daughter. I belong to Jesus!”

The Queen staggered as if struck. Her form flickered, her crown dimming.

But the battle wasn’t over. The Queen lifted her arms, screaming: “If I cannot have you, then I will drown this entire campus!”

The walls of the chapel trembled. Water burst from the floor, flooding higher, sweeping chairs away. The group held onto each other, fighting to stay above it.

Amaka’s heart raced. “She’ll kill everyone!”

Pastor Elijah raised his staff (a simple wooden cross he always carried). His eyes blazed. “No flood is greater than Calvary! By the name above every name, I command — enough!”

He struck the ground with the cross.

A shockwave burst through the room. The flood froze, then drained instantly, vanishing into nothing. The Queen screamed as her form cracked like glass.

But before she vanished completely, she hissed:
“This isn’t over. I will return. And when I do, I will not come alone.”

Her form shattered into mist, disappearing. The chapel fell silent.

The group collapsed, exhausted, soaked in sweat. Amaka clung to Tunde, shaking. “She’s not finished… she said she’ll come back.”

Pastor Elijah sat heavily, breathing hard. “Yes. This was only a battle. The war isn’t over. She will gather more, but so will we. Heaven has not abandoned us.”

Amaka’s heart was heavy with dread, but also filled with something she hadn’t felt before — courage. For the first time, she wasn’t running. She was standing.

As she looked at Tunde, she realized: no matter how dark it became, they would face it together.

And in the unseen realm, the Queen retreated to her throne, cracks still glowing across her body. Her voice echoed in fury:

“If they want war, I will give them war. Let the kingdoms of darkness gather!” She roared!

👉 To be continued in Episode 11

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07/09/2025

A Mermaid Love Story - Episode 6

That night, the whole village was restless. The sea had not calmed since Adanna disappeared beneath the waves. The wind howled, trees bent, and the waters pounded the shore like a warning drum.

The elders sat in a circle, their faces lit by fire. Fear gripped their hearts, but anger drove their tongues.

“We cannot wait again,” Old Okoro said. “That mammy water will bring ruin. We must cut Chinedu off before the gods punish us.”

Ebuka leaned forward, his eyes shining with wicked satisfaction. “I told you all! He has chosen her over us. If we allow him to continue, the sea will swallow our homes and we will all be wiped off from the surface of the earth. Tomorrow, we act he added.”

But far away in his small hut, Chinedu sat alone, staring into the darkness. He could still hear Adanna’s last words:

“You will have to choose — your people, or me.”

Tears burned his eyes. His heart wanted to run into the sea and never return. But his mother’s frail voice echoed in his memory too. She had once said: “Son, no matter where you go, remember you belong to this land.”

How could he choose? How could he tear his heart in two?

By dawn, the villagers gathered at the beach. The storm clouds still covered the sky, thunder grumbling like a hungry stomach. Chinedu stood alone at the edge of the water, his eyes red from sleeplessness.

When the elders arrived, the people formed a circle around him.

“Chinedu,” Elder Nwankwo said sternly, “we will not waste words. You must denounce the mammy water today. Swear before the gods that you will never meet her again. If not, you will no longer be one of us.”

The crowd murmured in agreement. Mothers clutched their children, men held charms in trembling hands.

Chinedu’s voice shook, but he stood tall. “Elders… my people… I cannot do what you ask. I love her. She has never harmed me, never harmed us. She only gave me joy.”

Gasps echoed through the crowd. Some spat on the ground, others wailed.

“Abomination!” an old woman shouted.

Ebuka stepped forward, pointing a finger at him. “You hear am! He don confess! He no belong to us again. Tie him and throw him into the sea! Let him die with his mammy water!”

The men surged forward, but before they could reach him, the waves erupted.

Adanna rose from the ocean, taller than they had ever seen, her hair whipping like storm clouds, her eyes glowing with sorrow and fury.

“Leave him!” she cried, her voice shaking the very sand beneath their feet.

The villagers stumbled back, screaming. Children hid behind their mothers. Even the elders trembled, clutching their charms.

Chinedu’s heart leapt. He ran forward, falling to his knees at the water’s edge. “Adanna!”

She looked at him, her face wet with both sea and tears. “Fisherman… they will never stop. As long as I remain, they will come for you. As long as you remain, the ocean will rage against them.”

Chinedu shook his head violently. “No! Don’t say that! We can fight, we can run—”

But Adanna pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him. “No, my love. We cannot run from who we are. You belong to the land. I belong to the sea. Our love was real, but it cannot exist in this world.”

Her words shattered him like glass. He grabbed her hand, clinging desperately. “Don’t leave me. Please, Adanna, don’t leave me.”

Her tears flowed like rivers. She cupped his face tenderly, memorizing every line. “I love you, Chinedu. More than the waves love the shore. But love is not always enough.”

The sea roared louder, rising higher, threatening to swallow the village. The people screamed, dropping to their knees. “Please, mammy water, spare us!” they cried.

Adanna closed her eyes. She kissed Chinedu’s forehead, her lips cold like rain. “Forgive me.”

Before he could speak, she pulled away and sank into the water.

“No!” Chinedu screamed, leaping after her. But the villagers grabbed him, holding him back as the waves dragged his canoe and nets into the deep.

“Let me go!” he cried, fighting like a madman. But the more he struggled, the more they held him, until finally he collapsed, sobbing into the sand.

The storm slowly calmed. The sea grew still, almost mournful. The clouds parted, and the sun shone weakly on the broken scene.

The elders, shaken, declared: “The gods have answered. She has left. The village is safe.”

But for Chinedu, nothing was safe again. He returned to his hut, but it felt empty. His canoe lay broken on the shore, his nets lost forever. The laughter that once filled his days was gone.

At night, he wandered to the water’s edge, calling her name. Sometimes, he swore he heard her voice in the waves. Sometimes, he dreamed of her arms around him, only to wake up cold and alone.

Weeks turned into months. Chinedu grew thin, his eyes hollow. The villagers avoided him, whispering behind his back. Some said he was cursed. Others said he was already half-dead.

One moonless night, he took his paddle and walked quietly to the sea. He pushed an old canoe into the water and climbed in.

“Adanna,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “If I cannot live with you on land, then I will join you in the sea.”

He paddled until the village lights disappeared behind him. The waves rocked him gently, as if welcoming him home. He closed his eyes, tears mixing with the salt air.

“Adanna… I’m coming.”

The next morning, the villagers found the canoe drifting empty on the shore. Chinedu was never seen again.

Some say the mammy water finally claimed him. Others say he drowned. But the fishermen who sailed far into the deep swore that on quiet nights, when the moon kissed the waves, they saw a man and a mermaid together, laughing softly, holding each other in the silver light.

And so the story lived on—of a poor fisherman who loved a daughter of the sea. A love too deep for the world, but not deep enough to escape its cruelty.

💔🌊

The End.

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07/09/2025

The Keke Driver – Episode 8

Morning broke slowly in Chike’s compound. The c**k crowed, women swept their front yards, and children in uniforms rushed off to school.

But in Chike’s mansion, silence reigned.

For hours, he sat on his balcony staring into space, his once proud face now haggard, beard overgrown, eyes red from sleepless nights.

The whole neighbourhood had noticed. And Nigerians love gist.

At Mama Chika’s food stand, women gathered.
“Una see am yesterday? Chike wey we know as gentle keke driver, now him dey talk to himself for road.”

Another added, “Hmmm… you no hear wetin my niece tell me? She talk say dem see am for beer parlour dey shout for small pikin face. Ritual money dey worry am, I swear.”

Mama Chika hissed. “I pity am. But e go soon cast. E never tey wey him dey carry children for keke wey uptill now we no see the children… now all of a sudden, him turn to big man overnight. Something dey fishy.”

By evening of that day, almost everybody in the area was whispering:
“The Keke Driver don use small children wey him dey carry for him keke do ritual.”

The neighbourhood youth chairman called a meeting.

“Make we reason this matter. Our Odogwu Chike, him money come too fast. Plus, children dey miss anyhow for town. We need to know if na him dey responsible.”

One young man shouted: “Na him! I swear! That day when my junior brother pikin miss school, I see am climb Chike keke last!”

Another interrupted, “Na lie jor! You dey accuse person anyhow. Na only Chike get keke that year?.”

Arguments broke out. Someone shouted in pidgin:
“Abeg, make we no dey fear. If na true say na ritual money, God go expose am.

Meanwhile, Inside his house, Chike battled unseen forces.

The children had stopped whispering at night. Now they screamed.
“Uncle Chikeeee! We dey here! You use our bl00d for money and you no go ever enjoy the money!”

He stuffed cotton wool in his ears, blasted loud music, even poured schnapps on the ground to appease spirits. Nothing worked.

At one point, he broke all the mirrors in his house because the children’s faces kept appearing in them.

Neighbours heard glass breaking and his mad screams.

“E don spoil finish,” one of them said. “Na spiritual wahala we dey witness so.”

Desperate, Chike visited a local pastor.
“Man of God, abeg pray for me. Dem dey disturb me for night.”

The pastor, seeing his flashy car and gold wristwatch, smiled. “My son, your problem get solution. But first, sow a seed of faith. One million naira.”

Chike’s eyes widened. “Ah-ah, Pastor, one million naira just to deliver person from evil spirits?

The pastor insisted. “Deliverance no cheap.”

Frustrated, Chike stormed out. “Na everybody dey chop my money! Even pastor sef want chop bl00d money.

One evening, a man named Baba Musa, who once trusted Chike with his daughter, came knocking.

“Chike,” he said, his face stern. “Where my daughter? Since that day wey she enter your keke, we never see her again.”

Chike stammered. “Ehh… maybe she waka go another place. How I go take know?”

But Baba Musa’s eyes narrowed. “Chike, if you no talk true, God go judge you.”

That same night, Baba Musa reported to the community leaders that he suspected Chike of knowing about missing children.

The next morning, elders summoned Chike.

“People dey talk. Children dey miss. You dey live large life overnight. As elders, we gatz ask you — wetin be your source of income?”

Chike’s heart almost stopped. Standing before the elders, sweating like a thief, Chike opened his mouth to lie — when suddenly, he heard it again.

The children’s voices.
Right there in the meeting hall.

“Uncle Chikeeee… tell them the truth…”

Chike froze, eyes wide, staring at nothing. Elders exchanged glances.

One of them whispered, “This boy don dey confess with spirit.”

Another muttered, “Blood dey him hand.”

The hall grew tense. The walls of Chike’s secret were collapsing.

👉 To be continued in Episode 9

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07/09/2025

🌳 COMING SOON! 🌳

A story that will touch every heart, stir deep emotions, and remind us of the struggles and strength within every home.

“Tears Beneath the Mango Tree” 💔✨
A tale of love, loss, betrayal, survival, and the unbreakable bond of family.

This isn’t just a story—it’s a journey filled with lessons that every household can relate to. Get ready to laugh, cry, and reflect as the episodes unfold.

👉 Stay tuned. The first episode drops soon!

06/09/2025

Ogbanje - Episode 9
~The Queen Strikes Back~

For three days after the battle in the river, Amaka felt free. For the first time in her life, she could sleep without nightmares. She could walk through campus without hearing whispers in her ears. She even laughed again, something she thought she had lost forever.

Tunde stayed by her side, protective but also relieved. “You see?” he teased her one evening. “I told you freedom is sweet.”

Amaka smiled, her hand resting lightly in his. “I almost don’t believe it. After everything, it feels… too good.”

But peace never lasts long when an enemy has been shamed.

That same night, the hostel was shaken by strange screams. Girls ran out of their rooms, terrified. One girl swore she saw a pale maiden standing at the end of the corridor, hair flowing, eyes glowing. Another claimed she woke up to find water flooding her bed, though no pipe had burst.

Within hours, rumors spread across campus. “Ogbanje dey disturb hostel.” Some laughed nervously, others prayed, but most were afraid.

Amaka knew immediately. Her stomach sank. “She’s back.”

The Queen had been defeated, but not destroyed. In the unseen realm, she gathered her strength, furious at the humiliation. If she couldn’t drag Amaka back, she would strike another way: by attacking everyone around her.

Two days later, tragedy hit. Amaka’s close friend, Esther, was found unconscious in the library. Witnesses said she suddenly screamed and collapsed, her body shaking violently as if drowning in an invisible water. She was rushed to the clinic, but the doctors found nothing physically wrong with her.

Amaka held her friend’s hand, trembling. “This is my fault… she’s after me, but she’s using them.”

Tunde gripped her shoulder firmly. “No. This is the Queen’s trick. She wants you to feel guilty, to weaken you. Don’t let her win.”

But Amaka could already feel the weight of fear pressing back into her chest.

That night, Amaka’s mother called. Her voice was weak, trembling.
“Amaka… strange things are happening at home. Your father woke up drenched in water. I… I saw a woman with white hair in the sitting room. She was smiling at me.”

Amaka dropped the phone, her knees buckling. The Queen had gone beyond campus — she was reaching into her family.

Meanwhile, Tunde began to face his own attacks. At fellowship one evening, as he led prayer, a violent wind swept through the hall. The lights flickered, chairs rattled, and several members began convulsing, speaking in strange voices.

One of them, a boy barely sixteen, turned to Tunde with glowing eyes and hissed, “She will never be free. You will die with her.”

Fear gripped the fellowship. Some ran out screaming. But Tunde planted his feet, raised his Bible, and shouted, “Every tongue that rises against us is condemned in Jesus’ name!”

The boy collapsed, the wind ceased, and silence fell. But Tunde knew — the Queen was no longer hiding in her realm. She had declared war openly.

Amaka’s freedom began to feel like a curse. Wherever she went, people suffered. Strange accidents followed her. One lecturer nearly drowned in his office when water inexplicably burst from the ceiling. A girl in her class fainted after claiming to see Amaka’s “shadow moving differently from her body.”

Students began to whisper.
“Is she not the one causing all this?”
“Better avoid her, before wahala go catch you too.”

Amaka felt isolated, guilty, and terrified. She wept in Tunde’s arms one night. “Maybe I should just give up. If going back to her will save everyone else, maybe that’s what I must do.”

Tunde pulled back sharply, his voice stern. “Don’t ever say that again. That’s exactly what she wants. If you go back, you won’t just lose yourself — you’ll lose your soul. And she still won’t stop hurting others. The only way is to fight her to the end.”

Amaka looked into his eyes. His determination gave her strength, but deep down, fear still gnawed at her.

That very night, the Queen came for them directly.

Amaka woke to the sound of water dripping in the hostel room. At first, she thought it was a leaking pipe. But when she turned, she froze. The floor was covered in water — rising quickly, filling the room like a river.

She screamed, shaking Tunde awake. He sat up, eyes widening as the water rose to their knees.

And then they saw her.

The Queen, standing at the far end of the room. Tall, majestic, furious. Her crown blazed with unholy fire, her white hair floating as if underwater.

“You thought you could defy me, child? You thought a mortal boy could protect you?” Her voice thundered. “Now, both of you will drown together.”

The water started rising higher and higher till it reached their chests. Amaka clung to Tunde, gasping. “She’s going to kill us!”

Tunde raised his voice, trembling but unyielding. “The Lord sits enthroned over the flood! The Lord is mighty to save!”

But the Queen only laughed, her eyes burning. “This is my water, my power. Here, your prayers are weak.”

The flood surged, sweeping them off their feet. Amaka struggled to breathe, choking as water filled her lungs. Tunde held her tight, refusing to let go, even as he was dragged under.

Just before darkness swallowed them, Amaka cried out from the depths of her soul:
“Jesus, don’t let me die here!”

Suddenly, the waters split. The flood froze in mid-air, suspended like glass walls. The Queen staggered, her power trembling.

From the center of the room, a light burst forth — brighter than anything they had ever seen. It wrapped around Tunde and Amaka, shielding them.

The Queen screamed, covering her face. “No! Not again!”

The light pulsed once more, and with a deafening roar, the waters collapsed — gone in an instant. The Queen’s form flickered like smoke, then vanished, leaving only silence.

Tunde and Amaka collapsed on the wet floor, gasping for breath. Both were trembling, soaked, but alive.

Amaka held his hand tightly. Her voice shook. “She won’t stop, Tunde. She’ll keep coming until one of us dies.”

Tunde looked into her eyes, his jaw clenched. “Then we must end this. Not just pray for survival. Not just run. We must destroy her — completely.”

Amaka’s eyes widened. “But… how?”

Tunde’s voice was steady. “We’ll need help. This battle is bigger than us now.”

He glanced at the shattered window, where the moon shone faintly. His heart burned with determination. If the Queen wants war, then war she would get.

But far away, in the unseen realm, the Queen sat on her throne again, her eyes blazing. She whispered to the shadows:

“Gather the others. If one kingdom falls, another will rise. They have chosen war… then they shall have war.”

👉 To be continued in Episode 10

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06/09/2025

A Mermaid Love Story - Episode 5
~The Betrayal ~

The ocean was calm that morning, but Chinedu’s heart was not. He paddled his canoe into the sea like always, eager to see Adanna. Yet something heavy weighed on his chest — the memory of her warning.

“They will come for us, Chinedu.”

Her words echoed in his ears as he reached the familiar spot. Soon enough, the water rippled and she rose, her face glowing like sunlight on water.

“Fisherman,” she said softly, “why do you look troubled?”

Chinedu forced a smile. “No, nothing. I just dey think of the future.”

Adanna’s eyes softened. She moved closer, her tail splashing lightly. “As long as we have each other, we will survive. Don’t let fear steal our joy.”

Her words comforted him, but far away, at the edge of the shore, Ebuka crouched behind a palm tree, watching. He had brought two other young men along this time. Together, they peeped through the leaves, their eyes wide with both fear and envy.

“See am with your own eyes,” Ebuka whispered. “She is real. The mammy water dey with am. When I talk, una no believe me. Now una don see am with una eyes abi?.”

The others nodded, trembling. One of them whispered, “But Ebuka, she fine o. I never see woman wey fine like that for my life.”

Ebuka hissed. “Na that beauty go kill us if we no act fast. She dey bewitch Chinedu. Tomorrow, it may be another person. We must tell the elders tonight.”

And so, while Chinedu and Adanna laughed together, sharing stolen moments of love, his enemies were already sharpening their knives with words of betrayal.

That evening, the elders gathered at Okoro’s compound. The air was tense, the moon casting long shadows. Ebuka stood in the middle, his chest puffed like a c**k ready for battle.

“I followed him again today,” he began. “And this time, others followed me too. We all saw her with our eyes. She is real! A mammy water, sitting with Chinedu like husband and wife. If we keep quiet, she will destroy our village.”

The elders exchanged uneasy glances. One of them, Elder Nwankwo, frowned. “Are you sure of what you are saying, Ebuka? This is not a small matter.”

Ebuka stamped his foot. “I swear on my father’s grave! She is real. Let these two men confirm it.”

The others nodded quickly, fear and excitement mixing in their voices. “Yes, we saw her. She is very beautiful, but not human. Half-fish, half-woman.”

A heavy silence followed. Then Old Okoro cleared his throat. “If this is true, then we must act fast before it is too late. Mammy water does not give love freely. There is always a price. Maybe Chinedu has already given her his soul. Tomorrow, she may demand our children. We cannot fold our arms and watch.”

The elders murmured in agreement. They decided to confront Chinedu. If he confessed, they would drive him away from the village.

But while the village prepared its judgment, Chinedu sat with Adanna at the edge of the sea, dreaming of a future that might never come.

“Adanna,” he said quietly, “if I leave everything behind and follow you, will your people accept me?”

Her eyes darkened. “No. They will not. To them, you will always be an outsider. But I will fight for you, Chinedu. Even if it costs me everything.”

Her words pierced his heart. He took her hand, kissing it gently. “Then I will fight too. Let them say whatever they want. Na you I choose.”

Adanna’s eyes glistened with tears. “I don’t deserve your love, Chinedu. You are risking too much.”

He smiled faintly. “Love no dey count cost.”

But at that very moment, shadows moved on the shore. Ebuka had returned, this time with four elders and some strong young men carrying cutlasses and charms. They hid behind rocks, watching.

Suddenly, one of the elders shouted, his voice like thunder:

“Chinedu! What type of abomination is this?”

Chinedu froze, his heart leaping to his throat. Adanna gasped and sank half into the water, her eyes wide with fear.

The men rushed forward, pointing their fingers at him. “So it is true! You are sleeping with mammy water! You have brought curse to us!”

Chinedu stood in his canoe, his chest heaving.

“No! It is not a curse. This is Adanna. She means no harm. She is not what you think.”

But his words only fueled their anger. Ebuka stepped forward, smirking. “See him defending her. He is already under her spell. If we don’t act now, she will finish him and then destroy us all.”

The elders began chanting prayers, calling on the gods of the land to protect them. The young men raised their cutlasses, though fear shook their hands.

Adanna clung to the edge of Chinedu’s canoe, her voice trembling. “Chinedu, I told you! They will never accept us!”

The waves began to rise, restless, responding to her fear. The villagers panicked.

“See! The water is angry!” one elder cried. “This is the beginning of our destruction!”

Chinedu raised his hands desperately. “Please, listen! She is not our enemy! She loves me, and I love her. Why can’t you understand?”

But no one listened. In their eyes, he was already lost.

Adanna’s eyes filled with tears. “Chinedu, they will not stop until they separate us. The spirits warned me… now it is happening.”

Chinedu held her hand tightly. “Then let them come. I no go leave you.”

The villagers threw charms into the water, their chants growing louder. The waves roared angrily, splashing against the shore. The sky darkened as clouds gathered, thunder rumbling in the distance.

Fear spread quickly among the villagers. Some began to retreat, but Ebuka stood firm, his eyes blazing with triumph. “Tie him!” he shouted. “If we capture Chinedu, the mammy water will leave him!”

The young men rushed forward with ropes. Chinedu raised his paddle, ready to fight, but Adanna screamed, her voice echoing like thunder across the sea.

At once, the waves rose high, crashing violently. The villagers stumbled back, terrified.

Adanna’s eyes glowed, her hair floating wildly around her face. For the first time, Chinedu saw the full power of the sea inside her. She was no longer just a woman—she was the daughter of the ocean.

“Leave him!” her voice boomed. “If you touch him, the sea will swallow this village!”

The villagers fell back in fear, but Ebuka shouted above the roar. “You see? She threatens us already! This is how it begins!”

Adanna turned to Chinedu, her voice breaking. “Chinedu… I cannot hold them back forever. The more they fight, the more the ocean will respond. One day, it will take everything.”

Chinedu’s heart pounded, torn between love and fear. He held her tightly, his voice trembling. “Then what do we do, Adanna? Tell me!”

Her tears mingled with the waves. “The time is coming. You will have to choose—your people, or me.”

And with those words, she sank beneath the waves, leaving Chinedu trembling, his canoe rocking violently as thunder cracked across the sky.

👉 To be continued in Episode 6

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