Moremi's Escape

                                                                                                                                                Prologue

The night was pregnant with danger and the scent of blood filled the ever whispering woods as Baderin pressed her trembling hands against the blood-soaked blouse folded on Moremi’s punctured belly, she watched as her cocoa-toned skin began to pale under the moonlit rock that sheltered them ever so slightly. Her breaths were more shallow and strained, she noted lifting the cloth gently to check the bleeding.

‘It looks better…, not that bad bad ’ Baderin said as she observed the narrow hole drilled into Moremi’s lower belly, she spat out the plant herb she had grinded in her mouth and placed it over the wound.‘Well .. That should hold for now’ she said, tying the blouse gently around the wound.

‘Moremi, Moremi’ she called, tapping the slightly older lady who groaned in return. ‘We need to get on the move, the dogs are on the loose.’

Moremi inhaled sharply, she looked down at her amateurish patched up belly and dropped her head back against the cool rock. “Give me a minute,” she murmured.

“We don’t have a minute.” Baderin warned, her voice rising just a bit to match the tension in her heart, she was starting to hear the dogs bark and she knew the Ugbo men were not far off.

“Okay… okay… leave me here,” Moremi whispered. “You go. Head for the river. At least one of us has to make it—”

“No.” Baderin interrupted her, her voice hardening. “I’m not leaving you here for them.”

Moremi tried to argue, but the words barely formed on her lips. “You know what happens if they catch us.”

“Oh, I know.” Baderin answered as she tucked a stray strand of Moremi’s long, damp hair from her face, her fingers brushing against her soft cheek. She studied her face—the sharpness of her jawline, the deep brown of her nut-colored eyes, the faded traces of red on her lips as she feigned a smile, a protective painful smile that reminded Baderin of her Sister.

                                                                                                                                         Chapter One

Baderin hopped across the crocodile-infested river, landing precisely on the safe zone she had marked on the ground. A triumphant smile spread across her face as she settled onto the earth, watching her tall, darker-skinned friend, Moyo, make her attempt. Moyo moved quickly over the marked regions, keeping pace with the wind. But as she neared the final stretch, her momentum faltered.

"Nooo! Your second leg must not touch the ground!" Baderin shouted, reminding her wobbling friend of the rules. "If your second leg lands, I take the victory!"

Moyo steadied herself at the last moment, making the final leap. Whoosh. The wind whistled as she crashed just outside the marked zone.

Baderin shot to her feet, throwing her arms up in celebration. "You should know by now that I'm the longest jumper in this village!" she jeered, poking Moyo's belly.

"That was close! I'm getting better. I'll beat you next time," Moyo responded, pulling herself up from the ground.

"Well, let's go again!" Baderin challenged, waving her hands in front of Moyo’s face.

"It’s late," Moyo replied. "The sun is setting, and you know it's not safe after dark. We should head home before it fully sets."

Baderin knew what Moyo meant. Just three years ago, kidnapping raids plagued the village so frequently that the king had imposed an evening curfew. It finally stopped—abruptly—after Princess Moremi was taken.

"Okay," Baderin sighed.

"My dad says they hide beneath palm fronds, making them unpredictable," Moyo muttered, retying her loose blouse.

"Well, my sister believes they are the gods' punishment when we fail to honor them," Baderin countered.

Moyo paused. "Wait… Baderin, didn’t your sister send you to fetch maize for dinner tonight?"

"Oh no—mine! I forgot!" Baderin grabbed her basket, bolting toward the farm.

"Hey, be quick and get home. I’ll stop by tomorrow!" Moyo shouted after her.

….

The family farm was only a few miles from her home. Baderin worked swiftly, plucking maize, knowing how much effort her sisters had put into preparing dinner—especially since her father and brother were returning from their travels today. She was halfway done when she heard it.

Footsteps. The maize stalks rustled, parting. Something moved through them. She froze. It could be the bush rats her father often complained about… but something about the way it advanced shook her. This wasn’t a creature scurrying away. It was coming toward her. Her breath tightened in her chest. The masquerades had returned.

She gripped the small stick her father used to prop up a falling plant and steadied herself. Then she saw him. Tall. Shrouded in palm fronds. His face was unseen. Instinct kicked in. She lunged, aiming at any part of him she could strike. But he was quick—he caught her midair.

She didn’t hesitate. She drove the sharper end of the stick into his uniform. He crumpled, groaning in pain. She took off. Her feet flew over the field. Her heart pounded, breath hitching, muscles burning. The town was close—the lights flickered in the distance like beacons calling her home. She was going to make it.

Then—

A shadow rose in her path. Taller. Broader. She pivoted, trying to escape his reach. The club swung. It struck her chest with a sickening crack. The force sent her crashing onto the earth. Her mouth opened to scream. Nothing came. Pain consumed her. Her vision blurred. The towering figure stood over her, his silhouette swallowing the dim glow of the moon. His foot slammed into her side. Everything went black.

                                                                                                                                         Chapter Two

"It's happening today. Yes, it has to happen today," Moremi reassured herself as she set the water pitcher down in front of the room assigned to her and three other wives of Dadeyemi. She separated the water into portions and had just begun washing when Baderin, Dadeyemi’s latest addition, approached.

She was young, probably in her late teens. A strikingly pretty, dark-skinned girl with a gentle face, marred only by the black eye and busted lip Dadeyemi had inflicted on her two nights ago.

"Stand up, you witch!" Dadeyemi had bellowed that night, striking her once more. "How many times do I have to tell you not to speak or sing in a language I don't understand?" His voice had rung through the chamber.

"I’m going to kill you, you ungrateful witch!" he shouted, kicking her repeatedly until he ran out of breath. She had laid there, half-conscious on the ground, barely moving.

Yet here she was now, seemingly untouched by the past, except for the lingering fragility in her movements. She was new to this—barely two weeks into her captivity compared to Moremi, who had endured three years of this life.

Baderin sat on the empty stool beside her, crossing her legs slightly over it. Moremi continued washing, pretending not to see her.

"She must be sizing me up," Moremi thought. "Trying to decide if she can trust me. And I understand—she’d be foolish not to. This palace is a den of thieves and backstabbers, where women would do anything to gain Dadeyemi’s favor. How does she see me? Do my dark brown skin and sharp eyes hint at my defiance? Or does my long plaited hair, slim face, and deep red lips betray my strength, speaking instead of the soft royal upbringing I left behind?"

Her thoughts danced in her head until Baderin finally spoke.

"Good afternoon, ma."

"Good afternoon," Moremi replied. "How are you settling in?"

Baderin adjusted the blouse over her bruises. "I'm trying," she said in a low, breaking voice. "I miss home. Today would have been my sister’s wedding."

Moremi paused before responding. "Oh really? What is she like?"

"She looks a lot like you," Baderin replied. "Braids her hair in straight lines like yours. Her name is Desola. I bet she misses me."

She forced a smile, but Moremi could see the ocean of sorrow roaring beneath it. Baderin pressed her nails into her palm, grounding herself before asking:

"What about you?"

"What about me?" Moremi asked cautiously.

"Where are you from?"

Moremi hesitated. She knew exactly where she was from, but on a day like today—when she planned to escape—it wasn’t safe to share too much.

She had spent months memorizing the tunnels that ran beneath the rock enclosing Ugbo village, making it an inescapable fortress. She had studied the guards' night patterns, packed only the essentials, and, right now, she was washing for appearance's sake. In her mind, she was already past the compound, beyond the farm fields, through the tunnels, across the forest, and finally past the river to the east—a symbol of her freedom.

"I'm from Ile-Ife," she finally answered, keeping it vague. But she couldn't push away the image of her husband’s face.

"I had a husband," she murmured, almost to herself. "I see him and my little son, Olu, every night in my dreams, calling me home."

"What did he do?" Baderin asked.

"He was a warrior in Ile-Ife. A good one," Moremi answered, a soft smile forming.

“I hope you get to see them again” Baderin said

"Hope is a dangerous thing to have here” Moremi said, reliving the pain she felt in her heart every morning she woke up here “ so be careful who you trust. This place is full of green snakes in green grass."

For the first time since their conversation began, Baderin smiled—a radiant, breathtaking smile.

"Hopefully I can trust you" I need a friend."

….

The half-moon claimed its place in the sky and Ugbo village fell dead silent, except for Dadeyemi’s snoring—a deep, grinding sound like rocks rubbing together—Moremi made her move. She slipped out from beneath her wrapper and reached for the small cloth bag she had stashed away—food, medicine, and water packed carefully for the journey back home.

Avoiding the sleeping women, she tiptoed into the moonlit compound. This was the moment. Swiftly, she cut across the courtyard and past the compound entrance. She knew the night watchers would be patrolling the far side of the village at this hour, so she hurried across the village square, pausing briefly as two guards passed.

"Compound, farm, tunnels, forest, river," she whispered to herself, recalling the path to safety.

She had seen many escapes. None had reached the river before the dogs caught them. She had once watched a boy’s hands get chopped off and fed to the beasts as a warning to the others. Her heart pounded as she neared the farm field, ready to disappear into the crops. But just as she was about to slip, she collided with a guard.

"Hey!" he shouted.

"He wasn’t supposed to be here," she thought.

She lunged at him, knocking him down, fists flying. He caught her punches and returned his. Then, in a swift movement, he pulled out a knife and plunged it into her lower abdomen. Moremi gasped, swallowing the pain. He shoved her off, watching her groan on the ground. He was unfastening his shorts when—

CRACK!

Baderin appeared from the shadows and smashed a rock against his head. He crumpled instantly. Moremi struggled to sit up. "What are you doing here?"

"I saw you leave and followed you," Baderin answered breathlessly. "What are you doing?"

"I'll explain later—we need to move. Is he dead?"

Baderin stared at the bleeding guard. "I...I don’t know."

"Hey, hey, help me." Moremi grasped her arm. "I have an escape plan, but we need to get to the tunnels—fast. If they see this, they’ll bring out the dogs."

                                                                                                                                           Chapter Three

Baderin’s mind struggled to process what was happening. This had to be another one of those wild dreams—one where she’d wake up to another morning of servitude. Yet, something was different. Why was she sprinting through an unfamiliar tunnel? Why did she feel like she was free and why in the god's name was her sister Desola, holding her hand?.

Confusion clouded her thoughts as she burst through the tunnels into the embrace of the crisp forest wind. It slapped her face, carrying the scent of damp earth and whispering freedom. She could hear the rushing river to the east—that was when she woke up.

"Moremi, Moremi—what’s happening?" she gasped, scanning the darkened forest.

"We’re escaping," Moremi panted. "We need to move fast. We have to get to the river."

She let go of Baderin’s hand, resting against a small rock.

Baderin turned to her, noticing the way she staggered. "What’s wrong?"

Moremi pulled aside her blood-soaked blouse, revealing the ugly wound. "I was stabbed."

"Oh no. Oh no." Baderin’s throat tightened. Not now. Not when they were this close to freedom. "Come on—I’ll help you."

Moremi leaned against her, and Baderin wrapped an arm tightly around her waist, guiding her down the forest path.

"Drop me here," Moremi rasped, pointing to a small rock shed. "I don’t think I can make it. Even if they don’t catch us—and they will, with the dogs—how am I supposed to cross the river?"

Baderin pressed a trembling hand to Moremi’s wound, feeling the warmth of her blood beneath her fingers. Her cocoa-toned skin had paled under the weak moonlight, her breaths shallow, each one a battle. They needed to cross the river. Fast. But Moremi was fading.

"Leave me here," Moremi whispered. "You go. Head for the river. One of us has to make it—"

"No." Baderin’s grip tightened. "I’m not leaving you for them."

Moremi tried to argue, but the words barely formed on her lips. "You know what happens if they catch us."

"Oh, I know."

Baderin tucked a stray strand of Moremi’s damp hair behind her ear, her fingertips brushing against her cheek. She studied her—the sharpness of her jawline, the deep brown of her nut-colored eyes, the faint traces of red still clinging to her lips. She reminded her too much of her sister. She wasn’t leaving her behind.

"Listen," Baderin said, tapping Moremi’s arm to keep her awake. "You brought medicine, right? I’m going to patch you up. It’s going to hurt like hell—but once I do, you need to head for the river."

"What about you?" Moremi murmured.

"I’ll give you a head start. I’ll distract them another way."

"Listen, you don’t owe me anything. You don’t have to do that," Moremi protested.

"No, you’re wrong," Baderin said, loosening the small bag Moremi had packed for the journey. She threw some leaves into her mouth, grinding them between her teeth.

Moremi’s eyes flickered with something unreadable. She nodded slightly. "There’s another way. Up the hill." She lifted a trembling finger toward the rugged path winding above them. "It’s dangerous—you have to run fast. It leads to a cliff, so you must not miss the jump. If you make it, you’ll land in the deep end leading to the river. Not even the dogs can follow beyond the riverbed. The moon is high, and the waters are turbulent tonight."

Baderin worked quickly, pressing the chewed leaves against the wound, securing it tightly with fabric."Okay. How do you feel?"

"Not better," Moremi admitted, breathing through the pain. "But this is it. I’ll be fine."

"Drink some water and eat something—you need all the strength you can get right now," Baderin instructed. She glanced toward the woods.

Voices. They were close. "I need to go distract them. Head for the river now."

Moremi grabbed her hands. "Thank you."

Baderin smiled. Then she turned—toward the voices, toward the torches, toward the dogs.

"May Esimirin guide you."

….

The Ugbo guards spotted her instantly, their flickering torches cutting through the darkness. "Over there! Over there!" Ten men and five snarling dogs surged forward, their footsteps pounding against the earth.

Baderin didn’t hesitate—she bolted up the hill, up the rugged path Moremi had shown her. The dogs followed. The men pursued. She was fast—but the dogs were faster. The gap between them shrunk in minutes, their teeth snapping at her heels.

She twisted through the trees, misdirecting them. One lunged—sinking its fangs into her buba. She ripped herself free, letting the fabric tear away from her almost naked body as she neared the cliff. There was no time to think.

She leaped—

The longest jump of her life. The men skidded to a halt, unwilling to follow her into the abyss. One lost his footing, screaming as he plunged to his death. Before Baderin could feel relief, she heard another howl—

The dogs. One had jumped after her. She landed hard, tumbling down the footpath, scrambling for balance. The dog was closing in, its growls fierce. She dived into the river.

The cold slammed against her body like stone, the current gripping her, threatening to drag her under. She kicked, fought the pull, each stroke pushing her closer to the shore. Her lungs burned. Her limbs ached. She couldn’t breathe. She lifted her head as the river dragged her deeper.

"Control your body. Control your body."She instructed herself.

She hadn’t survived all that just to die in a river. Finally, she reached the other side. She dragged herself toward the riverbed. They could not follow her here—at least, not yet.

But it wasn’t time to celebrate. "Moremi must be somewhere close."