Asante

The birds chirped happily where they were perched on the branches of the trees and the trees clapped their hands in joy as Moriah, a buxom fifteen year old girl, made her way leisurely to school that morning. She was overjoyed that it was a new school term. Moriah just loved school; she couldn't seem to get enough learning. The different subjects taught by their teachers were a marvel to her. They opened her eyes to different worlds which only existed in her dreams. She especially admired the intelligence and beauty of their female teachers, who were rather few among their male counterparts as in Moriah's village and its environs, female education was greatly frowned upon and downplayed. 

Mrs Williams untied the apron strings attached to her floral print cotton dress and hung up the apron on a nail behind the kitchen door. She carried the pot of 'asaro', a native yam pottage dish, to the makeshift table her husband had roughly made to serve as their dining table. She smiled at the little square hand made table mats her daughter had made. Hmmmn! Trust Sade to be ever resourceful!  This was by far the smallest apartment they had ever lived in; a mere two bedroom cottage-like structure hurriedly put up by the university where her husband currently serve

"E fun wa ni 'yawo wa, ebe ma l' a nbe yin o! Omi nmbe l' agbala wa, iyawo o r' odo mo o..." The 'wives of the house' chanted endlessly at the entrance to the door of Aduke's house. It was the customary way that the husband's people came to seek for their newly wedded wife after the bride price had been sorted out.  From there, the husband is given unhindered access to his wife, after having paid his dues. The entire womenfolk from the bride's side would then hand over the new bride to her husband's people who have come for her. Usually, the bride was accompanied by

 Mama had dared not challenge the bold woman for she knew the outcome of such a challenge; she would only incur moe insults from the women that day. So, she had fetched her water quietly and gone home peacefully without uttering a single word to the mockery of the women. "Don't turn yourself into a laughing stock, Moriah!" her mother said as she remembered the incident at the river, which she never told anybody, not even her husband. 

Agbekoya rolled his bicycle to a stop. He secured it by leaning it against the dwarf coconut tree along the path. He ran hastily after the group of girls on their way to the riverside. He had spied his wife, Moriah, his friend, Agbede's daughter, among them. He called her name hoarsely and the girls all turned back.  There was a titter of murmur among the girls as Moriah was pushed backwards towards him. One of the girls even slapped her on the buttocks as they turned back to continue on their journey to the river, leaving Moriah to her fate as she faced her intende