–Water War and Village Wahala
Dust and Silk
The sun had barely begun its descent when Amaka's voice shattered the compound's peace like a thunderclap.
"WHO USE MY WATER?!"
The question wasn't even a question. It was war.
The bucket in front of her was bone dry — the very bucket she had painstakingly carried from the stream under the wicked afternoon sun, sweating like a goat on slaughter day. She had tied her wrapper and arranged her soap and sponge, ready to bath and cool off from the heat, only to find nothing. Not even a drop.
"WHO USE MY WATER?!" she screamed again, louder this time.
Children playing ten houses away stopped. A rooster flapped its wings and ran. Somewhere, a radio shut off.
"Amaka, what is it again this evening?" her mother, Mama Ifeoma, called from the kitchen.
"Mama leave me!" Amaka snapped, hand on her waist. "Before I go break bottle for somebody head today!"
Neighbors had started gathering, peeping through doors, peeking out of windows. Nobody liked Amaka's mouth when she was angry, but everybody loved the drama.
From the side hut, Chidinma emerged like the devil's assistant — casual, drying her face with a towel.
"Ah ah, why are you shouting like goat that lost its way?" Chidinma asked, her tone smug.
Amaka's eyes narrowed. "Chidinma. CHIDINMA. You dey ask me stupid question when na you use my water!"
Chidinma gave a fake gasp. "Me? Your water? Am I your housemaid?"
Amaka took a step forward. "You dey mad? You dey craze? I go slap the makeup wey poverty no allow you buy off your face!"
People started murmuring. Mama Ejima was already dragging a plastic chair to sit and watch.
"I thought it was community water," Chidinma said, shrugging. "Is it written 'Amaka & Sons Ltd' on top?"
"You must be sick in the head," Amaka hissed. "So because the sun bleach your brain, you now think my sweat is public donation?! When I dey fetch that water, where you dey? Opening your rotten legs for cockroach?"
Chidinma's mouth dropped open.
"Ehn?!" she shouted. "Amaka! You have insulted me today!"
"And I go insult you tomorrow too!" Amaka fired back. "Thief! Parasite! Water-bandit!"
"Your water that smells like your bad attitude? Go and fetch another one now. Or you want me to urinate inside bucket and fill it for you?"
Amaka charged like a bull, but Mama Ifeoma rushed out and blocked her.
"Amaka! Do you want to kill somebody in this compound?"
"Mama leave me!" she screamed. "This girl go learn respect today! You go use my water and come dey run your mouth like who get mouth odor?!"
"You better control your daughter," Chidinma said, folding her arms. "Before she turns into community nuisance."
Amaka scoffed. "Better nuisance than community mattress."
The compound exploded with gasps. One boy dropped his slingshot. Even the village idiot clapped twice.
Chidinma lunged forward. "What did you just say?!"
"Try am!" Amaka roared. "Touch me and I swear you go wake up inside stream!"
Mama Ifeoma was holding Amaka's wrapper from behind like reins. "My friend, enter house! Don't drag this family name inside gutter."
"Mama! Family name already dey soak because of this girl!" Amaka shouted. "She's a disgrace! The only thing she sabi is to stand near boys and form innocent when her record worse than NEPA light!"
"Ehn ehn," Chidinma growled. "At least boys talk to me. You, they just use you to play Ludo and pass time!"
"Because I'm not cheap like you!" Amaka shouted. "You, they use water meant for spiritual cleansing to bath your cursed body!"
Gasps again. This time, even the chickens paused.
"I go slap you now!" Chidinma yelled.
"Slap me na! Make your hand fly off like leaf in harmattan!" Amaka retorted, spreading her arms.
"I will deal with you!"
"You no fit! You can't even deal with your hairline!"
Mama Ifeoma raised her broom. "Both of you, get inside! Before I use this broom to sweep sense into your head!"
Amaka hissed and turned away dramatically, adjusting her wrapper like an angry queen.
"Rubbish," she muttered. "She go use my water again make thunder no reset her brain."
Chidinma turned and stomped off too, shouting back, "Nzuzu! Go and fetch another one with your yam leg!"
Amaka flung back, "Better yam leg than your broomstick destiny!"
As both girls disappeared into their houses, the crowd slowly dispersed, whispering and laughing. Mama Ejima folded her chair with satisfaction.
"This evening sweet pass Super Story," she mumbled.
✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿
The sun had stretched its arms across the sky when Amaka stormed out of the compound with a bucket in one hand and rage in the other. Her slippers slapped the muddy path with every angry step, her wrapper tied tight around her chest already damp with sweat and frustration.
That foolish girl—Chidinma.
She'd fetched the water before dawn. She'd carried the bucket on her head, breathless and aching, just so she could warm it for Mama's bath. But no—Chidinma, the self-proclaimed house princess, had used it. Just like that.
"God punish poverty!" Amaka hissed, dragging the bucket roughly. "Na me go fetch, na me go suffer—nonsense!"
As she approached the stream, her wrapper clung tighter to her thighs, soaked by the dew and the early-morning humidity. Her arms moved briskly, dipping and scooping, splashing angrily as if the water itself had offended her. Her brows were drawn so tight you'd think they were stitched.
She didn't hear him at first.
But she smelled him—clean, citrus and oud. The scent of money. It sliced through the thick village air like a perfume commercial in a local market.
She turned slowly.
There he was.
Mr stranger
White shirt, neatly tucked into fine trousers. His right hand sleeves rolled up to reveal a Rolex, his skin glowing like it had never known village dust. His posture screamed mainland, but his eyes wandered with the curiosity of a man far from home.
He cleared his throat gently. "Excuse me."
Amaka blinked.
He tried again, this time with a soft smile. "Sorry to disturb you… I've been trying to ask someone—this stream… is this the water everyone here bathes with?"
Amaka looked at him. Up and down. Her eyes paused at his shoes. Clean. She smirked faintly. He was definitely new.
But she said nothing.
She simply bent again and continued fetching, her wrapper clinging like second skin. Her silence screamed louder than her anger.
Tunde stepped a bit closer, hands in his pockets. "I suppose I'm speaking to someone," he added with a light chuckle, that British accent rolling off his tongue like silk.
Still, she said nothing.
"I'm new here," he said, now lowering his tone like he was genuinely trying. "I'm curious… is this the same water everyone uses? It's just… I saw kids swimming in it. And now you're fetching it."
Amaka stood up slowly, her bucket now full. She turned sharply, chin raised. "Yes. And any problem with that, Mr Stranger?"
Tunde blinked. Then smiled. "Actually, no. I just wanted to know how the water system works around here."
He extended a hand. "I'm Tunde. Tunde Adewale."
Amaka looked at his hand like it was a snake.
Then her eyes met his—direct, fiery. "Amaka."
He nodded. "Amaka… yeah!."
She ignored him, moving to adjust the bucket, preparing to lift it onto her head.
"Well," he continued, awkward now but still polite, "I don't really know my way around here. I'd appreciate it if I had someone to show me a few things."
Amaka scoffed. "Yes, you don't know your way. That one is clear."
He chuckled, eyes trailing—just once—down her body. The soaked wrapper left little to the imagination. He caught himself, cleared his throat, then raised his gaze respectfully.
"Sorry if this sounds strange, but… how old are you?"
Amaka squinted at him. "What do you want to do with my age, Mr. Rich Stranger?"
"You just look… young."
She frowned. "I'm nineteen. And I'm not a child."
Tunde smiled, amused. "You look your age, then."
She said nothing. Just bent and lifted the bucket again, water spilling a little as she adjusted her balance.
He moved closer instinctively. "Let me help you."
"No need." But she didn't stop him either.
Their hands met briefly as he steadied the bucket on her head. The contact was electric, just for a second—then it passed.
She stepped back. "I'm fine. Thank you."
"Will you be around here often?" he asked, hopeful now. "Maybe we can talk again. I could use a friend in this village. Someone… from here."
Amaka raised a brow. "Friend? With me?"
"Why not?"
She smirked. "I'm not like those girls you're probably used to, Mr. Tunde Adewale. Be careful, this village will show you pepper."
He laughed again, hands up in surrender. "I'll take my chances."
She turned, walking away, the bucket balanced perfectly, her waist swaying with practiced ease. Tunde watched her go—eyes still on the curve of her back, the fierceness in her step, the confidence that didn't match her age.
"Wow," he muttered, shaking his head, "she's… something."
From the path above, one of his guards called out to him, but Tunde barely heard. His eyes were still on Amaka, the girl who didn't smile, and didn't give a damn about who he was.
And for some reason… that made her unforgettable but she's still a child to you.
✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿
The sun was already tilting westward when Amaka got home, dust clinging to her skin like a stubborn stain. Her wrapper was slightly damp from the stream, and the weight of the water she'd carried earlier still dragged in her shoulders.
Her mother was already in the backyard, tying up bundles of fresh ugu and scent leaves into portions for the market.
"You just dey come?" her mother asked without looking up.
"I met Ngozi on my way ," Amaka lied quickly, already stepping inside.
"Go baff! Before you enter my house with that dust!"
Amaka didn't argue. She stripped off her wrapper, tying a towel over her chest and quickly filled a bucket of cold water outside. The first splash made her gasp—village water was never gentle—but she has to be clean
Ngozi's house was barely five compounds away. Her mother was outside roasting corn while humming an old Onyeka Onwenu song.
"Amaka!" she greeted with a big smile.
"Good evening, Mummy Ngozi!"
Ngozi was inside, lying sideways on a raffia mat, fanning herself with a torn fan she'd inherited since SS2.
"You finally came," she teased as Amaka dropped beside her dramatically.
"I get story for you today ehn," Amaka said, fanning her neck.
Ngozi sat up quickly. "Wetin happen?"
"Before that. But I miss Chisom?" Amaka asked, her voice suddenly softer.
Ngozi blinked. "That girl ehn… she get wahala, but I miss her small. If no be that belle—"
"She for still dey with us," Amaka finished.
Both girls sighed. The silence that followed was the kind that only old friendship allowed.
"Remember that day Chisom pour the teacher garri inside his shoe?" Ngozi asked suddenly, laughing.
"Jesus! And he no know until he wear am. And the sugar start to melt!" Amaka cackled.
"The man dey shout say, 'Who put sugar for my leg!'"
The two girls howled with laughter, clutching their bellies.
"Aah secondary school was sweet o, even with the cane. Now see us. Everybody just dey marry like say na race." Ngozi rolled her eyes.
"I no blame them. No university here, and all these boys dey use sweet mouth confuse person."
Ngozi scoffed. "But you know your mama no go ever agree for you to date. She dey always say she no want make you make mistake like her."
Amaka nodded slowly, lips pressed together.
"I go wait," she said. "I'm not even willing or ready to marry sef."
Ngozi leaned against the wall, eyes narrowed. "Okay now. Wetin you wan gist me? You been say you get story."
Amaka's face lit up. "Ngozi... you no go believe who I see for stream."
Ngozi raised one brow. "Who?"
Amaka shifted closer like someone about to reveal a secret. "That stranger dem dey talk about. The rich one."
Ngozi gasped. "You saw him?! For stream?! Ehn ehn talk talk!"
Amaka raised both hands. "As I dey fetch water like normal person o. The man just show. Tall. Fine. Fresh skin like say he dey bath with goat milk. Chei!"
Ngozi clutched her chest. "Amaka!"
"I'm telling you. That man neat pass woman. And he dey smell nice. Not like perfume wey dey choke... proper soft scent. And he no dey talk anyhow. Calm voice. English too sweet—no be all this gorrrhveherrh kind English boys dey force for market."
Ngozi's mouth was wide. "He talk to you?"
"He did. Said I should be his friend in the village... help him around."
Ngozi sat up like she'd been stung. "He said he wants to be friends with you?! Amaka! You ignored him?! You get mind! Rich man like that fit dey give you money every weekend just for greeting o!"
Amaka eyed her. "Ngozi… have you forgotten Chisom?"
Ngozi paused.
"You want make I carry belle all because of 'Hello'? Me? Amaka? For where?"
She mimicked him: "He even stretch him hand make I shake am. I dodge am o! Before I touch him, my destiny go bend. I say—make this belle not locate me o!"
Ngozi burst into loud, rolling laughter. "Amaka!! I forgot! I swear! But you try sha. You really ignored him?"
"I just waka. Like say nothing concern me. But inside my mind... my leg dey vibrate."
Ngozi kept laughing. "Lucky you. I never even see his shadow before, and you dey see his sweat glisten for sun!"
Amaka hissed playfully. "Abeg shift. He's just a man jare. Even if... that man fine. No be joke. Like film character. You go fear beauty."
Ngozi lay back down, still giggling.
As they lay on the raffia mat under the fading light, two village girls dreaming, joking, remembering, one thing was certain—something new had entered Amaka's world, and though she acted like she didn't care, a part of her had already taken note of the stranger's soft smile and cleaner-than-clean hands.
✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿