Women Of Steel | ✔

XIV

"You sly little weasel."

It is only when we are in the middle of the bazaar crowd that I realize Arewa's trickery. She turns to flash me a defiant grin and my own face remains unsmiling. A part of me is impressed at her stubborn loyalty and another part of me is hurt that she used me to get what she wanted, it seems like everyone around me wants me for their purposes but I have none.

"Is there even anything like the blood moon festival?" I ask when I reach her.

She lifts her chin. "Of course there is, I just spent our trek telling you everything about it."

"You are a master liar, Arewa." I tell her. She grins as if it was a compliment, I did not intend it to be one.

"Don't tell me that you did not sneak out to watch festivals you were forbidden to." She says.

"Ile Wura only celebrates a handful of festival, the new moon, the new yam and the merge." I list the festivals, ticking each one off my finger and I lift them in her face. "We don't celebrate the most mundane things, like the coming of age festival you told me about."

"We call it a birth date celebration," Arewa throws over her shoulder, an offended frown on her face. "gods, is there anything at all that you enjoy doing?"

I pause, giving her words consideration and when I splutter twice, she grins sharply.

"I thought princesses attended all the most glamorous festivals," She says.

"Well I didn't," I tell her a little too sharply. "I spent most of my time with my teachers and friends."

Although I wouldn't call the esteemed daughters of Tade's chiefs as my friends, we only ever spoke to each other because we felt every other girl was beneath our social status and ever since my fall from grace, I haven't spoke to a single one of them.

"Look!" Arewa screams suddenly, forgetting her guise as a boy, I sigh and glance at what she is pointing at; three young boys dance skillfully within a circle of fire and a small crowd screams each time one moves closer and closer to the flames.

I feel nothing but disgust staring at them, wondering if they are slaves too but when I look at Arewa, she is mesmerized by them. I glance away, thinking to visit Maami's stall.

After delivering her prophecy of doom, Maami had reverted to her jolly face and resumed chatting with Zahir, chirping in with a wink once to announce that Zahir and I would have beautiful babies as if she hadn't predicted my own death. I had been too shocked to say a word, now is my chance to speak to her alone.

It takes several missteps to locate her stall and when I do, disappointment settles in my chest when I see that it is closed. I lean back on the stall, closing my eyes for a second, then snapping them back open when a sudden scream pierces the air.

In the middle of the cacophony is a woman wearing a colorful dashiki and kicking at a little girl in chains, what is more shocking is that nobody pays heed to them, not even when the woman bends to tug at the chains, dragging the bleeding girl away.

Rooted to where I stand with shock, two fancily dressed women pass me, discussing with an air of superiority.

"Good slaves, hard to come back these days." The fatter one tells her companion, the latter shakes her head but says nothing. That is as much acknowledgement as the girl in chains gets.

My fists clench of their own accord but nobody gives me a stare either when I kick up a small cloud of dust.

"Why did you go?" Arewa asks when she finds me, still by the kiosk. "You missed the big finish, and —"