The Curse of Ogamba

Nabunjo spat near her. "Leave Ogamba, or we'll do worse next time." She grabbed a fistful of Fanta's hair, yanking her head up. Fanta hissed in pain.

"Do you hear us? Next time, we'll drown you properly," Basima threatened, cold malice in her eyes.

Fanta stared at them, chest heaving, tears cutting streaks in the mud on her cheeks. She realized they truly meant it. They'd kill me if they could. The truth hammered home: she had no future in this village. They'd torment her until they ended her life, or forced her to vanish.

A surge of raw survival instinct shot through her veins. She might be battered and half-drowned, but she still had enough will to escape. Summoning the last threads of her strength, Fanta suddenly twisted, wrenching away from the foot that pinned her. Basima lost her balance for a second, and in that gap, Fanta scrambled to her feet, ignoring the agony in her wrists and scalp.

"Stop her!" Handuza yelled, but Fanta was already darting forward. Mud clung to her ankles, slowing her, but adrenaline pumped wildly. She slipped past Chinwe, who lunged for her arm but grasped only a slick handful of her muddy dress. The fabric tore, but Fanta tore free.

She stumbled across the bank, chest burning. Must run. Must run. She didn't dare head back into the heart of Ogamba—that's exactly where they might chase her, and no one would intervene. Another memory of daily scorn told her no safe haven existed among the huts. The only direction left was the open path skirting the village, leading toward the forest's edge.

Behind her, the girls cursed, pursuing. Fanta heard them splashing, then pounding footsteps on the bank, hearts set on not letting her get away so easily. A strangled sob rose in her throat as she realized she was truly fleeing for her life now. Her limbs ached, mud dripped from her clothes, but terror fueled her.

She dashed along the riverside, each footstep slipping on damp soil. The morning sun glared overhead, intensifying the heat. Her lungs burned with each gasp. But she refused to slow, even when the ground cut her bare feet. The voices of Handuza's clique soared in rage behind her:

"Catch her!"

"Don't let the demon escape!"

"She's heading for the forest!"

The forest. The rumors of Okiya Forest haunted her. It was said to be a realm of spirits and hidden dangers, a place seldom entered alone. But now it was her only route. Better face the unknown there than let these girls corner me again. She forced her legs to move faster, ignoring the stinging in her knees where they'd bruised from the mud.

Fanta rounded a bend, panting. She glimpsed the outskirts of Ogamba on her left—rows of clay huts, a spattering of villagers who might see her flight. She prayed none would try to block her. Some indeed turned to watch the spectacle, eyes wide: Fanta, dripping mud, running as if possessed, with four furious girls in pursuit. Gasps and confused shouts rose, but no one intervened. They parted like startled goats, letting Fanta race past. The wind whipped her hair, still caked with silt, stinging her scalp.

She heard Handuza's voice ring out: "Don't let her vanish into the forest! She can't get away that easily!" Their footsteps thundered behind her. Horror flashed through Fanta: They're so close. She could sense their wrath, the raw hatred fueling them.

But the path ahead, away from the huts, sloped upward. She forced her battered limbs to climb. Up ahead, the trees of Okiya Forest loomed, their dark canopy like a forbidding wall. Tales of ghosts, wild animals, and lost souls abounded. In normal times, she'd never approach alone. Now, ironically, it seemed safer than the malicious presence chasing her.

She glanced back once, a mistake. The sight of Handuza's face twisted with fury, her cronies panting at her sides, spurred Fanta forward with fresh terror. Her chest burned, each breath a ragged sob. If they caught her again, they might not stop short of drowning her.

Within moments, the trees swallowed her. The path from Ogamba ended abruptly, replaced by thick undergrowth. Branches scratched her arms, tangling in her hair. Her heart pounded dangerously, echoing in her ears. She half-expected to be grabbed from behind at any second.

But the further she scrambled, the more the pursuit noise faded. She sensed that Handuza's group hesitated at the forest's boundary—fearful of rumored spirits. Indeed, a shrill curse from behind indicated their reluctance. Perhaps they realized going deeper might be unwise, or they believed the forest would devour Fanta for them.

She stumbled past a cluster of broad trunks, each step precarious on root-laced ground. Dappled sunlight flickered across her mud-streaked form. She risked a glance back. Through the foliage, she glimpsed vague shapes, but not as close as before. The hostile voices receded.

Relief mingled with fear. She was alone now, deep in a place few Ogamba folk dared roam. The forest hush enveloped her, contrasting sharply with the earlier chaos. She gasped for breath, leaning against a tree, tears mixing with caked mud on her face. The memories of those final moments at the river hammered her senses—their mocking laughter, the suffocating water.

But she had escaped them, for now.