21/12/2025
THE CHOIR MISTRESS - Episode 1
Ayetoro village was quiet, dusty, and alive in it’s own way. Children ran barefoot, women shouted across fences, and the sound of pounding yam and cooking firewood filled the air.
Among all this, Mercy Adeyemi stood out—not because she was loud or flashy, but because of her calm nature, her obedience, and her loyalty.
She was the kind of child everyone loved and would love to have. She is respectful to elders, gentle with her peers, and always ready to help.
Every day, she went to the river to fetch water for her family, a chore she carried out without complaint, humming softly as she walked along the narrow paths, her clay pot balanced perfectly on her head.
That fateful morning, Mercy arrived at the river just as the sun began to burn off the morning mist. The river shimmered under the light, shallow and familiar, a place she had visited countless times.
Children her age were already there, bathing and splashing water playfully at each other, laughing and shouting without a care.
Mercy smiled at them politely, greeting them quietly as she bent over to dip her pot into the flowing water. It was then, in that ordinary moment, that the river moved differently. The water wrapped around her legs as if alive, pulling her down before she could cry out.
Her little arms struggled, but the current was soft, firm, and unyielding. Mercy did not scream. She did not panic. Somehow, deep inside, she felt welcomed.
The other children panicked. They screamed and ran, nakęd and trembling, racing back into the village. “River don swallow Mercy o! River don swallow Mercy!” they shouted at the top of their lungs.
Within minutes, men and women had abandoned their chores and rushed to the riverbank, shouting her name, dragging fishing nets along the shallow water to try to rescue her.
But the river, though shallow, had swallowed her completely. Nobody could understand it. How could a river so calm, so shallow, hide a child entirely?
The River current was soft but firm, carrying Mercy deeper, yet she did not feel fear. She felt… welcomed.
The river was alive, and it spoke to her soul in a way no human voice ever had. Then, as quickly as she was drawn under, the world went quiet. The birds, the children, the village—all disappeared.
She found herself in a strange, deep place, underwater yet breathing as if the air itself had changed.
In the depths, the river revealed a hidden kingdom. It was an all-female world, illuminated by a soft, shimmering light that seemed to come from the water itself.
Women of incredible presence floated gracefully, each exuding authority, wisdom, and power.
They gathered around her, observing her closely. Their eyes were ancient, yet gentle. Mercy felt no fear, only awe. The leader of this underwater sisterhood spoke without words. The message was clear: Mercy had been chosen.
They explained, in ways that bypassed sound, that her calm, respectful, and loyal nature had made her suitable for a gift unlike any other. They would bless her mouth, her throat, and her voice so that when she sang in the human world, it would sound angelic, touching hearts, stirring tears, and healing pains.
The ceremony was beautiful, solemn, and intense. They moved around her in circular formations, chanting melodies that Mercy felt in her chest rather than heard with her ears.
Warm currents wrapped her, as if the water itself were molding her vocal cords and her very spirit, shaping her to become a vessel for music no human had yet known.
The ritual lasted what seemed like days, yet Mercy felt no time pass. They whispered their guidance into her heart: she must be faithful, humble, and always use her voice to honor the divine.
She must never sing for selfish reasons, and she must protect the secret of her gift, for it was rare and powerful.
When they were done, the women gathered closely and touched her lips lightly, and a warmth surged through her throat. She opened her mouth and sang.
The sound was soft, pure, and unlike anything she had ever produced. The currents of the water vibrated in harmony with her voice, lifting her gently. She felt her spirit stretch, her chest fill with light, and a power that was both thrilling and comforting.
Far above the river, searches for mercy went on for three days. Nets were dragged repeatedly through the water. People called her name continuously, their voices hoarse from crying and shouting.
Her parents were devastated, weeping in the village square, their hearts heavy with fear and despair.
On the fourth day, exhausted, the villagers gave up. They mourned her as gone. “The river has claimed her,” whispered her mother, clutching her husband’s arm.
Nobody could sleep that night; the memory of her small face, smiling as she went to fetch water, haunted everyone.
It was exactly one week after Mercy disappeared that the miracle happened.
After what felt like three days in the river kingdom, Mercy found herself gently carried back to the surface of the river. She emerged from the water, gasping but unharmed, her hair plastered to her face, her eyes wide with wonder.
The river had changed her forever. Her voice now carried the gift, the blessing of the underwater sisterhood, and she knew she could never be the same ordinary child again.
👉 To be continued in Episode 2
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