IKONGA!

12

**I'm sorry if this will be triggering for some of you but I had to show you guys how bad slave treatment was those days and how far some people had to go to defend themselves. Writing this  chapter was both sad and scary for me too but... it had to be done to get the book moving.**

The night before they found her.

Onaya's hands strained against the ropes biting into her wrists. Her chained feet faltered with the steps she took against the rough ground. She paused taking a moment to catch a breath. Everything was burning, her hands, her legs, her neck, her ribs and most especially her joints. Her throat was dry and stung when she tried swallowing saliva, the chilly night air was not helping in any way. Her head, it felt as if little men with nails were trying to make their way out. Her skull throbbed menacingly.

Thinking back to the last few days. Things had changed drastically. In one night, one fire, one slave raid, she had lost it all. She had strived to protect her people with all she had even resorting to decisions she never would have. 

But most of all she failed her father. His last wish was for her to take care of his people. Taking on the task of a male patriarch was not easy especially when it came to earning trust and demanding respect from the subjects. Nevertheless, she struggled with all the challenges and soon enough they learned to accept her. Never once did she bow her head down not even when she was challenged with an arranged marriage to see if she would preserve their way of life. But now, it was all she could do to keep the stinging tears away.

Almasi, her betrothed. Regardless of his vexatious infatuation, her inability to reciprocate his feelings and his annoying tendency to tell her what to do claiming to be her better half, she never wanted to lose him. They were to be wedded the following fortnight and now even that was lost. What still wounded her to no end was the fact that her father had trusted her and she failed him. The pain was like lodging a  stake straight through her heart. All she had to do was protect her people from the world outside and she failed miserably.

Life as how she knew it was gone and in its place was a cruel joke they told her was  survival that she was supposed to be grateful for.

'At least you get to live' 

Some of the other slaves would tell her.

'Hah-' she laughed softly but bitterly. How about her people? There were children and old people and the slave raiders had no mercy. They killed any resistance and plundered what they could. They tried their best to fight them off but it was a lost cause. Something ticklish was running down her cheek and soon she tasted the saltiness in her mouth.

Was she crying?

No.

She hardly cried.

Was she this broken? She closed her eyes and images of that horrible night came. The screams, the thick smoke, the fire-

Her train of thoughts was abruptly cut short when a whip landed on her back.

"Move." the guttural voice next to her ear sounded. Onaya turned to the source of the voice to meet a bearded face with a scowling vicious look. His teeth were bared in a growl and in the dim moonlight not even the poorest of eyesight would miss the yellowing teeth and stinking breath. Onaya had to suppress a shiver. She was stronger than this, much stronger. But then, who was she being strong for? herself?  

When the slave master didn't get any reaction except a blank empty stare. He raised his whip to deliver another blow. This one had Onaya dropping to her knees. An ominous silence fell and gasps were released by the other slaves in the line. Having the man spit on the ground next to her added to the humiliation.