3 3. Guests.

"And where do you think you're heading, Safiya?" her mother asked sternly.

"Mother, please," Safiya closed her eyes, not ready to engage in a fight with her mother, at least not in this moment.

"I just need some air."

"Oh no, you wouldn't dare step out, not today of all days. It's your sister's wedding. Don't you have any manners left in you?" Her mother's voice fumed with anger.

Meka stepped forward and gently held her mother's hand. "Mama, please. She will attend, she just needs a moment to catch her breath. Besides, the guests haven't arrived yet."

Safiya let out a frustrated sigh as her eyes involuntarily rolled. The thought of sitting with strangers and having to wear a pretty dress seemed like an unbearable task to her. However, deep down, she knew that her sister Meka had a way of convincing her to do things she initially resisted.

"Meka, Safiya must wear the dress I sent," their mother insisted.

Meka glanced at their mother with understanding eyes and replied calmly, "She will, Mama. I'll make sure of it."

Her mother continued, determinedly stating, "And she must attend your wedding."

"Yes, Mama," Meka responded, her voice filled with gentle reassurance. She knew the significance of her sister's presence on such an important day, and she would do everything she could to convince Safiya to be there.

"Sometimes, I don't even know what has come over you, Safiya," she said with a pained expression. "Be the daughter I raised. You are not a tout, and I didn't raise you to wield swords. I don't know how I would cope if anything were to happen to you."

With those heartfelt words, she turned away and walked off.

Safiya looked away from the door, the pain gripping her heart tightly. Her eyes were filled with an almost unbearable sadness. Despite the distance between them, she could never bring herself to hate her mother. She understood the immense suffering her mother had endured over the years, which is why she felt compelled to take revenge as the only thing that could bring her peace of mind.

She knew that neither her sister nor her mother believed that their father had been killed and not die honorably at war, but Safiya was determined not to listen to them. She was determined to find the culprits and bring them to Justice.

"You're making Mama worried," Meka said, breaking Safiya out of her daze. "You should stop all this and just focus on being the girl that you are."

"She will be fine," Safiya replied firmly.

"Safi, please don't ruin my wedding. It will only give the villagers something to gossip about. Please, just wear the dress," Meka pleaded, walking up to her and giving her a gentle shake. "Today is my big day, can't you do this for me?"

When Safiya said nothing, Meka smiled and started walking towards the door. "I'll tell Sheby to return the dress. Thank you, sister."

Safiya is now left alone in her room, the sun streaming into her room casting shadows on the wall and on her skin. Her gaze is fixed on the wall.

The door made a slight sound, and Sheby walked in with the dress. She placed it on the bed and quickly left.

Safiya stared at it, her jaw clenching. Only for today, she would let her guard down and put it on. She was doing this for her sister.

"Hurry, the guests will be here soon. Make sure to keep things tidy," Safiya heard her mother's voice resonate through the courtyard.

Safiya had donned a flowing long skirt and wrapped another material around her chest, exposing her flat tummy. She chose not to adorn her hair with cowries, allowing its natural fullness to shine. Her face remained free of any makeup, with no trace of black substances on her lips or eyebrows. Yet, even without any enhancements, Safiya's remarkable beauty was undeniable.

As she stepped out from the hut into the compound, all eyes immediately turned towards her. The rhythmic beating of the drums came to a halt, and it seemed as if time itself froze, leaving only the soft footsteps of her bare feet and the gentle breeze that rustled through the air.

Safiya stood there, taking in her surroundings. The compound had been beautifully decorated for the occasion. Underneath the shade of the majestic mango tree stood a long wooden table, adorned with various delicacies. The aroma of pounded yam, roasted plantain, cooked cassava with palm oil filled the air, enticing all who were present.

The children were dressed in their best attire. The girls wore beautiful silk wrappers, wrapped around their waist and chest. They adorned themselves with beads on their necks and waists, and some even had cowries on their heads. Their hair was styled in braids or curls, many of the girls opted for cornrows as well.

As for the boys, they had their garments tied around their waists. Their silk wrappers were fashioned into shorts. A single bead hung around their necks, adding a touch of adornment.

The women, Including Safiya's mother, looked stunning in their elegant attire. Their clothing showcased vibrant colors and intricate details, reflecting their rich cultural heritage. It was a sight that exuded grace and beauty.

Her mother spotted her and a big smile instantly lit up her face. She looked stunning in her fine wrapper, elegantly wrapped around her chest and reaching her knees. Another one was draped over her shoulder, adding a touch of grace to her ensemble. Her hair was beautifully styled, with beads delicately decorating it.

As her mother walked towards her, she couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with emotions. "Oh, my dear, you look absolutely lovely," her mother exclaimed, her voice filled with relief and joy. "I was so scared that I would never see you in a dress again."

The mention of not wearing a dress anymore caught the attention of the gathering. Whispers and glances were exchanged, causing Safiya to feel self-conscious under the weight of their scrutiny. She took a deep breath, reminding herself that this day was for her sister and that she had to endure the attention, no matter how uncomfortable it made her feel.

Her mother gently touched her cheek before taking her hand and guiding her toward a wooden stool. "Come, my dear. Come sit. The guests will soon arrive."

Safiya's curiosity peaked, and she couldn't help but ask, "Where is Meka?" She wasn't accustomed to attending weddings, so she hadn't been aware that Meka would only emerge when the guests arrived.

"Oh, don't worry about your sister," her mother reassured with a smile. "She will join us when her suitors arrive."

Safiya's eyes widened in surprise. "Oh!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with a mixture of shock and understanding.

Safiya looked at her mother, who was now attending to other arriving guests. She sighed, feeling conflicted by the happiness radiating from her mother's face. She would have considered giving up on her mission because of that smile, but she couldn't. Her father deserved justice. The head warrior wouldn't have simply died in such a manner, especially considering there was no war on the night he left. She was sure of it, she was sure there was no war. There's a possibility that her father had been summoned by someone and never returned.

However, both her sister and mother believed that he had gone to save their land. These were the lies they had been fed. Nonetheless, Safiya was determined not to back down. Her father must receive the justice he deserved, and she wouldn't stop until she make it happen.

"They have arrived. The guests are here," announced someone, creating an uproar among the crowd. Now, with curiosity filling the air, the crowd stood up and gazed intently as a group of individuals walked in.

The gate, made of strong wood, swung wide open as a group of men entered. Their attire suggested their wealth and status. Amongst them, one man stood out with a large leaf placed atop his head, indicating that he was likely the suitor. He was tall, his hair neatly cropped, and his physique revealed well-toned muscles. A single wrapper draped over his shoulder, his bare chest remained visible.

Accompanying him were two men, presumably his guards, while another person followed closely, holding the leaf above his head. Several girls trailed behind, carrying baskets filled with fruits and foods such as pawpaw, plantain, yam, and plates filled with jewelries and cowries.

According to tradition , the man would pay the bride's price with both food and money. Goats and fowls were also brought in as additional offerings.

As the crowd drew nearer, whispers fluttered through the air. Safiya couldn't help but wonder: when had Meka met this person without her knowledge? He must be from another tribe, since she had never seen him before. This realization sparked her curiosity, and she yearned to know who he truly was.

Suddenly, an eerie silence engulfed the crowd, piquing Safiya's curiosity. All eyes turned to the gate as a man emerged, wearing a sword at his waist. His chest was bare and muscular, his skin a rich dark brown, and his hair cropped short like the suitors'. But as her gaze locked with his, she gasped. His jawline was sharp, his nose commanding, and his eyes, a deep, piercing shade of dark brown, held a menacing gaze. There was an air of fear surrounding him, causing the crowd to pause in anticipation.