CHIBOK (COMPLETED)

CHAPTER THREE

She waited till the men and their captives were all gone. 

Aminat scurried out of the thicket, looking nervously around. The blazing sun was already heading for repose, westward it soared.

She staggered over some boulders as she tried to scale the gorge, finally heaving herself onto the shore. Aminat navigated underneath the shadows of trees to the moss herding palm tree 'bridge'.

Instinctively she looked back. There was nothing but trees—lots of trees and shrubs, she crossed the bridge almost losing her footings at the sound of a squirrels hopping the branches. The cold sand on the bank at the other end felt like therapy for her sore feet.

Birds were tweeting gleefully in countless tress, quite oblivious of the unusual traveller.

Past the tall colony of bamboo, she ducked under the rotting bough of a tallow tree, skirting a large anthill she would have actually fallen against had she seen it less sooner.

Days there were when she'd imagined the wild on a favourably pedestal, through the kaleidoscope of fantasy and flippant day dreaming. Reality was crueler than what she had in her mind, the wild was no friend of hers. Leaves were already leaving tokens on her exposed leg making them itch even worse. She resisted the urge to scratch back, knowing fully well that it would make it worse: blisters would form with time and in few days, she'd be dealing with open sores.

Looking back once more, she wondered if she'd made the right decision, and most frequently she doubted if leaving Lucia was a good decision.

Time whirl on, as the forest got less denser with every step she took. darkness gaining control just as well. In no time, the moon would be high up in an obsidian sky, what would she do then? How will she be able to negotiate the uncultivated side of the planet without proper light or shelter? Then, her eyes settled on something peculiar to civilization, a cashew plant! She must have ignored some in her long walk! With this comes the realization that was further buttressed by splatters and casts of cow dung amidst the grass: Aminat was not alone, it was only a matter of time before she meets with herds men.

"There will be no way for escape, if she is still around this vicinity, she'll certainly be found."

The last word one of the pursuers she'd narrowly escaped uttered still echoed in her ears as she stumbled through the bush, her feet, worn sore by the unforgiving blades and thistles, eyes hurting from tears and limbs too weak to move her any further.

The pale moon had begun sailing proudly above the exceptionally beautiful cirrus clouds, lending light to the dew that began forming on the grass, as time flew by and the lonely traveller in the unfamiliar terrain tried her best to make the smallest sound as she stole her way through.

The night was eerie still, except for the swaying grasses. The creepy quiet (if the undulating chirping and of crickets and the occasional call of nocturnal birds can be ignored,) reminded her of graveyards. With this reminiscent came the evil forebode and dread of an evil ghost sneaking up on her from nowhere in particular. The unfamiliar territory seems even more threatening, like the heaviness before a disastrous storm.

Aminat's stomach rumbled quite audibly, She held on to it as though the pressure will ease the hunger.

A startled hare busted off its cover at the sound of her footsteps, bounding away. Aminat's heart picked race at the sight of the fluffy oddball, hopping off; she lost her footing and found herself sitting helpless on the grass. It was just an animal.

Beyond the fall was the consciousness of a constant stinging pain the sole of her feet, she gave a voiceless groan as she collapsed on the grass. It was then she realized the thorny twig beneath her feet, she reached for it, her body protested in pain as she pulled it off.