Chapter Thirty-Eight: Memories of Home
- Hadiza Bagudu
- Jul 18
- 8 min read
Updated: 6 days ago
Rabbeh was grinning to himself, satisfied with the turn of events and with good reason too. Things were looking good. When Hayah died a few months back, he was devastated and apprehensive that his secret plans for world conquest were truncated, but now sitting on his lush royal bed with his new wife cuddled up in bed, occasionally providing valuable advice, his plans were back on track, and he couldn’t have been happier.
Rabbeh had been obsessed with control ever since he was a kid. He hated the fact that he was treated like a slave in his own father’s house, and his father was the king. Even though his father never acknowledged him as his son, he was a prince, nonetheless. When he finally escaped the palace and joined the army, he was happy to discover that the general he was serving under hated his own father as much as he did. He was willing to join in on the General’s plot to depose his father and take over the throne as a means to an end – Rabbeh also had designs to kill the General and take his place as king later. But then fate intervened in a strange way, and he found himself on the run again as a fugitive. It was then he decided to organize a rebel army so large and powerful enough that it would be capable of conquering any kingdom in its path, even the most powerful of them: the Kanem-Borno empire! It was his own personal holy grail, but after he got it, he wanted more. He realized that he didn’t just want one very powerful empire; he wanted to rule the whole world. He wanted everyone to bow down to him and kiss his feet. That was why he wanted to use Hayah to conquer the Sokoto Caliphate. Having two powerful empires under his control would have been the first step towards world domination. And wouldn’t that have been nice?
But just as he was about to embark on that part of the plan, Hayah died and crushed his dream. But fate intervened again, this time in a good way. His new wife was also a noblewoman from a powerful kingdom and a very shrewd woman at that. In the past few months, he had studied her and gave her as much power as she wanted, in order to see the kind of woman she was. He was impressed. He even indulged her in carrying out her petty vendettas in order to gain her trust. He remembered the old saying, ‘You never really know a man’s real character until he is in the position of power.’ It proved true in her case, the past few months had revealed her true nature. She was as diabolical as anyone could get and he thought she was well equipped to be his partner in crime. He was going to use her as much as he wanted and then dominate her completely afterwards. At the moment, she was going to be his ticket to another very powerful kingdom Fombina! After conquering Fombina, he would crush the likes of Gombe, Bauchi, Kano, Zaria, and Katsina. By the time he arrives Sokoto, he would be unstoppable.
Abdou was miserable. He had been running from his father for many months; it now seemed like ages ago, and he was tired. He knew very well what his father was capable of and was sure that Rabbeh had people on his tail. He hated himself even more for involving his innocent little sister with his problems. She did not deserve this. Because of him, she lost her husband and gained her father’s hatred, which may not seem like a big deal to some, but her father being Rabbeh, that could mean death or something worse.
He heard about his father’s marriage to Talatu. Bad news travels fast. At first, he thought his father would be in a good mood because of the marriage, which could serve as a window of opportunity to go to him and ask for forgiveness, but only two days earlier, two of Rabbeh’s bounty hunters cornered him in Madagali and almost killed him in the fight that ensued. Had it not been for his excellent swordsmanship, he would have been dead and his sister probably raped and then killed. But he was able to kill them and escape with her.
“Hush Hauwa, it will soon be over, I promise.” Abdou tried to calm his sister down to stop her from crying. They were hiding in a filthy hut somewhere outside of Mokolo. She had been crying since the day of their escape and was having a hard time adjusting to the different environments they found themselves in almost on a daily basis. She was a spoiled princess not used to life on the run. Even though his father raised him with an iron hand to be a fearless warrior, he spoiled her rotten. She was a real daddy’s girl and that was proving to be a handicap.
“No, it will not!” she snapped. “You say that every day and we are still on the run.”
“You know that father’s men are after us and they almost killed us a few days back. We have to keep moving.”
“Why can’t we just go back to him and ask for his forgiveness. He wouldn’t say no to me.”
“Are you crazy? He will kill us.”
‘No, he will not. Father loves us and we are his children.’
He walked over to where she was sitting and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Listen to me, Hauwa, no matter how much father loves us, he loves power even more. Your husband, Hayah, meant more to him than we ever would and we killed him. Father will not hesitate to punish us severely. So, stop dreaming of him showing us mercy and start thinking of how we can take care of ourselves.”
“Why do you keep saying we? You killed him!”
“Shut up,” She started to cry again. “With any luck, he would die from one of his unending battles and we would be safe
That made her wail even harder.
It took Fantah over a week to ride all the way to Balda. She was given only a horse and a few silver coins. She gathered a few of her clothes and took them with her. She was deeply embarrassed, but the pain of losing Hayah would always surpassed any embarrassment or fear she would have. She used her extraordinary nomadic Fulani memory to navigate her way home. She rode through the small villages and large towns, just as she remembered from their way to Baghirmi. She also rode through thick and dangerous forests, risking animal and bandit attacks. She couldn’t care less, wasn’t she past caring, anyway? She would happily welcome death in place of what she was feeling at that moment.
When she reached Balda, she stood at the top of a hill on the outskirts of the town. To her amazement, it still looked like the town she had left a few years back, despite the effects of the war that took place before they left. From where she was standing, she could see Hayah’s palace in a state of deterioration from the distance and she was filled with nostalgia. She could remember every good and bad memory she had lived in that place. She remembered Asabe and Ladi, and how they had died horrible deaths. They were good-natured girls and did not deserve what happened to them. They were like sisters to her and she loved them dearly. The thought of never seeing them again, of never setting her foot in that house again, of never ever seeing Hayah again, to feel his touch, hear his voice... brought tears to her eyes. She stood there and cried her heart out for what seemed like an eternity and then she mounted her horse and rode all the way to Ndokula.
She wasn’t sure they would still be there. Her people were never known to stay in one place for more than three years at a time. And when she left, they were preparing to move on. Even if they were still there, she was not sure if they were going to welcome her or how they were going to react to seeing her.
She wondered about her father and mother. Were they still alive? Did they still think of her? Would they welcome her or send her away? The thought of the social damage she had dealt her family by running away the way she did preoccupied her mind. She must have brought incredible shame to her family and suddenly, she realized her father would never be able to hold his head high among his people again.
She thought about Diddi and her husband and their unborn child at the time she left. She wondered how they were faring. Did they still think about her, how many children had they borne now? Oh, how she envied her.
Her thoughts also drifted to her cousin, Sa’adu. She wondered if he had moved on. Was he married now? Probably with children? Would he be happy to see her looking this miserable? She felt so ashamed at the thought such that she started to cry again.
The forest looked the same. The grass was just as green and the trees were just as big as they were when she had left years ago. The air was moisture-filled, though, a sign it would soon start to rain, but she didn’t care. A few moments later, it started to rain, but she kept riding through the blinding torrential downpour. She had lost any fear of death, any kind of death. Her horse had served her faithfully on her journey back home and was beginning to show signs of weariness. Mercifully, the downpour subsided to a drizzle. Suddenly she could recognize the familiar sights leading to Ndokula; the strange but unique bushes on the outskirts of the village, the footpaths of the shepherds, and so on. She saw one cow, then another, then a herd of cows. But because of the rain, the shepherds were out of view – probably taking succor from the rain at a hidden place not too far away - so she couldn’t tell if it was somebody from her own clan or not. Her heart started to beat faster. She was anxious to know if her people were still there or she would only find an empty forest where her people had once settled a few years earlier, or maybe a completely different clan altogether.
As she entered the village, she felt a surge of relief when she noticed the familiar structures that she had left years back. The village had grown larger though, almost a town now, with even a few permanent red mud buildings. Even in the rain, she could see some people moving about either to collect the rain water or stoke the fire in the cattle stalls to warm the animals. Some of them stopped and stared at her in disbelief. She recognized a few of them, but did not stop nor utter a word. She rode until she got to her father’s compound.
Her father was at the entrance, herding his cows in, when he glanced up and saw her. They both froze for a few moments that seemed like an eternity before she slowly dismounted from the horse and then stood there staring at him. Her father had aged a lot, more from pain than from natural causes. He even had a little stoop in his posture. Her heart filled with pain for him and tears started to flow freely from her eyes again.
“Fantah am?” he said quietly, his voice hoarse.
“Na’am Baba am.” she answered and then ran towards him. He opened his arms and hugged her. They remained in that embrace for a long time, crying. All the anger and the pain she had caused him over the years evaporated in an instant as he took her hand and led her into the house. She could barely walk; her legs numb and heavy. Her mother, who was in the kitchen cooking, saw them and ran out to hug her. They stood there in a warm embrace despite the rain.
[End of Chapter Thirty-Eight]
✦ Thank you for reading
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