₦airaland Forum

Be Writertained Chronicle
Short Stories | Essays | Poetry

THEMES FOR SEPTEMBER TO DECEMBER 2025
We're calling on writers to submit works that reflect any of the themes below. All genres are welcome - fiction, non-fiction, or poetry.

SEPTEMBER – Faith and Creativity
This month, we celebrate Christian and Muslim creatives. Share stories, poems, or essays on how faith shapes your art, your life, or your creative journey.

OCTOBER – Country and Care
In honour of Nigerian Independence Day and Women's Health Awareness, we are accepting works that touch on freedom, identity, womanhood, mental or physical health.

NOVEMBER – Men and Meaning
We focus on men, especially male writers and stories that reflect men’s health, identity, vulnerability, fatherhood, or emotional strength.

DECEMBER – Light in the Margins
We're spotlighting disabled creatives and stories centered on disability. We also welcome Christian-themed works that reflect struggle, joy, faith, or hope.

SUBMISSION GUIDELINES

- Maximum word count for short stories and essays: 1,500 words

- You can submit up to 3 poems

- Submit your work as a .doc or .pdf file

- Include a short bio (50–100 words)

Deadline for each theme is the 25th of that month

SEND ENTRIES TO: Writertainpublishers@gmail.com

Let your voice be heard. Let your story travel.

Writertain Publishers is ecstatic to announce it has acquired Unfulfilled Promises, the emotionally charged romance by Audrey Timms that found a massive online following. With its digital popularity and heartfelt storytelling, the novel is now officially open for pre‑order in its debut print release.

Unfulfilled Promises explores the bittersweet journey of Oleng, a young girl raised in emotional neglect, overlooked by her successful mother and surrounded by conditional love. Into her isolated world comes Eric Conrad, her gentle confidant, whose kindness offers her the comfort she’s longed for. Their innocent high‑school friendship deepens into a first love that feels destined, until promises go unkept and silence overtakes hope.
What begins with whispered promises and youthful longing turns into betrayal, secrets, and heartbreak. Oleng is forced into unexpected adulthood, wrestling with shame, silence, and fractured trust. Unfulfilled Promises is both a tear‑jerking story of adolescent romance and a powerful narrative of resilience.
goodreads.com

“Audrey Timms writes with raw emotional honesty. Her characters linger in your mind long after the final page.”- Writertain Editorial Board

Writertain’s acquisition underscores its dedication to publishing stories that resonate deeply with Nigerian readers and beyond. The print edition of Unfulfilled Promises will include captivating design, author notes, and bonus content for early supporters.

Pre‑order is now open through https://selar.com/unfulfilledpromises

I was going through my old files — stories, articles, drafts — and found a 15-page book I started years ago. The working title?
Early Pioneers: A History of Nigerian Digital Books.”

Guess what I discovered?
Almost every early record I had started from Nairaland.

Before Okadabooks.
Before Bambooks.
Before this board was moderated by great minds like Cuddlemii and Humbledbygrace
It was Nairalanders, writers, readers, thinkers, who laid the foundation for Nigerian digital storytelling.

It starts with Seun Osewa, who gave us this open ground. Then came the storytellers like
AudreyTimms. EvaJael. Repogirl. Frank316. Kayemjay, Royver.
People like Mine Whitman, who held us down here before starting Naija Stories
Orikinla and David Dylan... Even Karo Oforofuo was present here before being part of Okadabooks’ growth.

We can’t forget the icons with cult classics who never got to publish:
RedMosquito. WhiteMosquito, Flakkydagirl,
These were not just usernames, these were voices. Movements in themselves.
Although we still have some writing and publishing like Larrysun, Rachaelfst (Toyin Taiwo), Shewrites (Sarah Iyare)...

And then we had the ones who gave feedback, built momentum, and encouraged others financially while writing their own stories like Queenitee. Princesa.
True OGs of literary support.

Today, many of these names are quiet.
Some burnt out.
Some ghosted by the industry.
Some simply disappeared from themselves.

And yet… we know the truth:
Nairaland started it.
This forum gave us everything. Before social media trends. Before content calendars. Before royalties.

So no, this is not a comeback post.
This is a survival post.


I started Writertain to document the movement; Nigerian writers telling stories outside the gate.
But the movement is fragile. And if we don’t hold it, it will vanish.

That’s why Writertain is evolving into a hybrid platform:
- Documenting stories.
- Supporting creatives.
- Creating space for Nigerian storytellers in all forms - books, blogs, scripts, audio, films.

And yes, we are prioritising Nairalanders.
If you’ve ever…

– Written a book no one read
– Sent a script to someone who ghosted
– Cried over a blog post with only 6 views
– Started a brilliant series and life got in the way

Writertain is for you.

We won’t offer false hope.
But we will walk with you.
Build with you.
Mourn with you.
Try again with you.

Let’s do the hard work. Together.

- If you remember any writers I didn’t mention, drop their names. Let’s honour them.
- If you're still creating, let us know — Writertain is building new ways to help.
- If you’ve stopped but want to return quietly, we see you too.

This isn’t nostalgia. It’s memory turned into mission.
Let’s bring it back, differently this time.

Infinityworks:
What would make you switch from Webnovel/Wattpad?

It's not really for Nigerians and that's a problem on its own

Next time your post is deleted check your account and see you've been banned by a BOT.

Whenever you post a link, it will come out to delete the post

Jaycobbs:
JOB ALERT!

Toba’s heart fluttered at the sight of the flowers in the man’s hand at the restaurant’s door. She had been so lost in work all day that she missed the opportunity to enjoy the beauty of that bloody day. The hearts of some would beat as they make their first step in their relationships. For some, it was the blood rushing to their head in realization that they’ve been in the relationship alone, thinking about the best gift for their partner who couldn’t make a simple gesture as sending them a message. For so many, it was the breaking of hymens or the pumping of blood through the same veins pumping sweats out of their pores despite the ACs, fans, or open windows.

The man holding the flower beelined towards her and she smiled, but stopped herself the moment he got near her. It was a greek horse. The bulky man wearing a hood noticed that she realized who he was and quickly moved the flower aside as his hands flew under his black jacket. She saw the little note in the flower, saw the woman turning towards them in wonder, and also saw the gun coming out of his jacket. In a quick succession, she pulled her shot handgun from her waistbelt, and didn’t need to do much targeting before she released the shot.

Soon enough, all around her were screams, scampers, table turning, people going for cover and the bulky man falling with a hole drilled in his head by her perfect shot. She should be excited about it, but she sighed. Now, she had to move to different city. She picked the small school bag buried between the rusty fridge and the dying oven as she removed her apron.

“I quit”, she said to her boss, who was cowering under the counter. For the first time, the tiny woman with 4 year wig wasn’t babbling about how inept Toba was. Her eyes were canvas of fear. Toba raced to the flower, picked the note within it, and dashed out of the restaurant, bracing herself for anything that might come her way. However, there wasn’t any surprise waiting for her.

When she was on a bike, she opened the letter and read it:
Happy Valentine, I hope this flower send you to hell or running
- The love you left for dead.

kay29000:
Hello Divepen1, can you make me one book cover a week from now till December? I'll pay you for the covers.

Chai. I didn't see this on time.

emusmithyy:
Okay, Thank You!

1. HOW TO BORROW MONEY FROM NIGERIANS
2. Utethe Smith, Emu
3. 18 Proven ways to ask for financial help when in desperate need
4. Money/Finance
5. I had worked as a school teacher for 10 years. I had always felt the nudge to leave where I was even if it was a better school that paid higher; just leave.

Yet, I stayed for more years. In 2023, I decided to leave against common sense, I had no job waiting for me.

Those months I stayed at home and taught me a lot about seeking financial help from others when I so needed one to push my dreams and life forward. I wasn't raised that way but I had little choice.

Making the decision to leave that job was the best at the long run because I got a better job that offered me more time, knowledge and resource.

This book is a compendium of my experience during those months when I was home without a job. I was a giver so it was hard for me to ask from people.

That frame of mind enabled me to coin ways of genuinely borrowing money from people when I needed it.

Just perhaps you have been failing to get help from someone because of your personality. In this book, you will find strategies that align with the beliefs of those people you need help from.

I will teach you kind ways to borrow money from people when you need money, especially from people you offer some level of service to. It's a quid-pro-quo relationship.

6. I like the image on the green one, then i like the MOCKUP on the yellow one.


I will appreciate this.

1. I really don't understand. That's the book cover already keh

sochey:
Ok, thank you.

I have a story I've been working on.

Title: The dead tell no tales.
Authors name: Sochima Ossai

Synopsis: It's about a young boy who commits suicide in a Catholic church. The story is being told in the voice of this boy's best friend who tries to uncover the mysteries behind the boys sudden death. According to him, the boy was cheerful, spirited and full of life so he couldn't understand why his friend could do such thing. So him and a girl who's also their friend starts asking questions. In the story, I want to elaborate on the concept of child abuse, mental illness in a parent, depression, anxiety and a lot of things happening in a family. Eventually, this friends finds out the ungodly events happening in the house of God led by the priest which the boy who died uncovered months before his death and threatened to expose the priest. The priest who didn't want his secrets revealed warned the boy and asks him to discontinue. They uncover the priest having a hand in the boys death. In the end, it's just this friend who is telling the story that pushed the boy off the parish tower because of a girl whom the both of them had fallen in love with.

Here...

Chapter 1

Adesola sat in front of the large mirror in her small but cozy apartment, sunlight pouring through the window like liquid gold. It danced across her glowing skin, highlighting the soft curves of her cheekbones and the fullness of her lips—a beauty so striking it seemed almost unfair. Her tiny apartment, while modest, was a haven filled with little touches of her personality: framed photographs of her past modeling gigs, potted plants she affectionately named, and a neatly organized vanity that sparkled with cosmetics.
Today, the stakes felt higher than ever. It was the morning of another rehearsal for the Crown of Elegance competition, and with every passing day, the buzz around the event grew louder. Winning meant more than fame; it meant earning the crown, a symbol of ultimate prestige and influence. Adesola knew this competition could change her life forever.
She carefully picked up her makeup brush, steadying her hand as she worked on her face. Each stroke was deliberate, almost meditative, but her thoughts were anything but calm.
Amara.
The name was like a pebble in her shoe, a constant irritation that she couldn’t ignore. Adesola’s rise in the modeling world had been meteoric, but Amara had been a towering presence long before her arrival. Their rivalry was the stuff of tabloid headlines, framed as the battle of two queens—Amara, the established star, versus Adesola, the audacious upstart.
Their history wasn’t just about competing on stage; it was personal.
________________________________________
The first real clash between Adesola and Amara had occurred at the Face of Elegance runway show a year ago. Adesola had been the underdog, a fresh-faced model with everything to prove. The crowd buzzed with excitement as the models prepared backstage, but it was no secret that Amara was the favorite to win. Her reputation preceded her: bold, confident, and charismatic to the point of intimidation.
Adesola, on the other hand, had entered the competition quietly. She wasn’t backed by a powerful sponsor or connected to influential industry insiders. What she had was raw talent—and that alone had caught the attention of the judges.
The tension between the two women had simmered all evening, but it boiled over moments before the final walk. Adesola was adjusting the delicate straps of her evening gown when Amara approached her, flanked by her entourage.
“Nice dress,” Amara said, her tone dripping with condescension. Her eyes flicked over Adesola’s gown, a shimmering gold piece that hugged her figure perfectly. “I suppose we all have to start somewhere.”
Adesola forced a smile. “Thanks. I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Amara’s smirk widened. “Don’t get too comfortable. This industry eats the weak alive. You might shine for a moment, but stars like me? We last forever.”
Adesola said nothing, but her silence was heavy with defiance. She knew better than to engage—her focus was on the stage, not Amara’s barbs.
When the final walk began, it was clear to everyone that Adesola wasn’t just another contestant. Her stride was confident, her presence electric. The crowd erupted in applause as she owned the runway, her gown glinting under the lights like molten gold. Even the judges seemed captivated, their eyes fixed on her every move.
But Amara wasn’t one to be outdone.
As Adesola reached the end of the runway, a sudden commotion broke the flow of the show. Amara, following right behind her, deliberately stepped on the train of Adesola’s gown, tearing the delicate fabric with a loud rip. Gasps echoed through the room.
Adesola froze, her heart pounding as humiliation threatened to overwhelm her. But instead of faltering, she did something unexpected.
With a steadying breath, she turned her head slightly, flashing a dazzling smile as if the mishap had been part of the act. The crowd cheered even louder, and the judges exchanged impressed glances. Amara’s attempt to sabotage her had backfired spectacularly.
Later that night, when the winner was announced, Adesola came in second. The crown went to Amara, but the audience knew who had truly stolen the show. From that day on, their rivalry became the talk of the industry.


***
Back in the present, Adesola put the finishing touches on her makeup, her reflection staring back at her with quiet determination.
“Today is another step,” she whispered, her voice steady.
At the rehearsal venue, the energy was palpable. Models, stylists, and photographers moved about like bees in a hive, their conversations blending into a lively hum. Adesola stepped into the room wearing a simple yellow dress that hugged her figure perfectly. Heads turned, as they always did, but she paid no attention.
“Fashionably late as always,” Kemi teased, handing her a bottle of water.
Adesola smiled. “Not late,” she said lightly. “Just perfectly on time.”
Kemi rolled her eyes but grinned. “You know Amara’s already here, right? Making sure everyone knows she’s the favorite to win.”
Adesola’s smile faltered for a moment before she forced it back. “Let her have her moment,” she said softly. “We’ll see who shines on the final day.”
During the practice walk, Adesola felt the familiar weight of Amara’s gaze. Her rival was unusually confident today, even for her. The sly smirks, the whispered exchanges with others, the subtle glances in Adesola’s direction—it was all too calculated.
“She’s plotting something,” Kemi said during their lunch break, her tone laced with suspicion.
“What do you mean?” Adesola asked, her brow furrowing.
“I overheard one of the stylists talking about her sponsor,” Kemi said, leaning in closer. “Apparently, they’re pulling strings to make sure she wins. Something about influencing the judging panel.”
Adesola frowned. She had heard of such things before—models backed by powerful sponsors using their influence to tilt the odds. It was a reality she hated but had always avoided.
“She can have her strings,” Adesola said firmly. “I have my talent.”
That night, Adesola sat by her window, the city lights twinkling like distant stars. Her tiny apartment felt even smaller as she replayed the day’s events in her mind. The pressure of the competition was weighing on her, but what lingered most were the strange dreams she had been having.
The woman’s face was always so vivid, her features glowing with a light that seemed to come from within. She spoke in riddles, calling her “daughter” and urging her to be strong.
“Who are you?” Adesola whispered into the stillness of the night.
The city offered no answers. Only the faint hum of traffic and the occasional chirp of crickets filled the silence.
Adesola closed her eyes, letting her head rest against the cool glass of the window. Somewhere deep inside, she felt a storm brewing, a quiet but insistent force that refused to be ignored. The path ahead was uncertain, but she knew one thing for sure—this wasn’t just about a crown anymore.
This was about something much bigger.

Long before you or I walked this earth, the gods of Nigeria shaped the world through feuds that echoed across the divine realms. Among these rivalries, none burned fiercer than the animosity between Oya, the goddess of storms, and Oshun, the goddess of love and rivers. Their story, whispered through time, begins with a bond both sacred and bitter: they were co-wives of Sango, the god of thunder.
Oshun was Sango’s delight. Her beauty glimmered like sunlight on calm waters, and her culinary mastery kept him returning to her with unbridled devotion. Every dish she prepared, every honeyed smile she gave, tightened her hold on his heart. Oya, powerful and proud, watched this affection from a distance, her emotions churning like the tempests she commanded.

In her desperation to capture Sango’s undivided love, Oya swallowed her pride and approached Oshun for advice. She saw the charm that radiated from her rival and believed Oshun’s wisdom could hold the key to winning Sango’s affection.
"Feed him your flesh," Oshun whispered, her voice honeyed and inviting, as she held up a small piece of what appeared to be her own ear. The act was bold, shocking even, but Oshun framed it as an ultimate gesture of devotion.
Oya hesitated. The idea was grotesque, but her longing outweighed her doubts. Trusting Oshun’s words, she sacrificed a piece of herself and offered it to Sango.
His reaction was immediate and devastating. Horror twisted his face, and he recoiled, his voice like thunder as he rejected her offering. Flesh, especially such as this, was forbidden to him. It was then that Oya learned the truth: Oshun had tricked her. The flesh Oshun had presented was not her own but that of a goat.

The revelation ignited a storm within Oya, one that mirrored the chaos in the skies. Her tears, born of humiliation and rage, poured into the earth, swelling into a river that roared with her anguish. Oshun, triumphant, transformed into a river herself, her laughter rippling through the waters as she mocked Oya’s pain.
For days, the rivers clashed, their fury unstoppable. It took the intervention of a divine arbiter to separate them, placing stones between their waters and creating an eternal divide. Though their forms were stilled, their enmity persisted, seeping into the fabric of time itself.



https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kZAIkIePjEw

Prologue

Long before Adesola—or even you or I—walked this earth, the gods of Nigeria shaped the world through feuds that echoed across the divine realms. Among these rivalries, none burned fiercer than the animosity between Oya, the goddess of storms, and Oshun, the goddess of love and rivers. Their story, whispered through time, begins with a bond both sacred and bitter: they were co-wives of Sango, the god of thunder.
Oshun was Sango’s delight. Her beauty glimmered like sunlight on calm waters, and her culinary mastery kept him returning to her with unbridled devotion. Every dish she prepared, every honeyed smile she gave, tightened her hold on his heart. Oya, powerful and proud, watched this affection from a distance, her emotions churning like the tempests she commanded.

In her desperation to capture Sango’s undivided love, Oya swallowed her pride and approached Oshun for advice. She saw the charm that radiated from her rival and believed Oshun’s wisdom could hold the key to winning Sango’s affection.
"Feed him your flesh," Oshun whispered, her voice honeyed and inviting, as she held up a small piece of what appeared to be her own ear. The act was bold, shocking even, but Oshun framed it as an ultimate gesture of devotion.
Oya hesitated. The idea was grotesque, but her longing outweighed her doubts. Trusting Oshun’s words, she sacrificed a piece of herself and offered it to Sango.
His reaction was immediate and devastating. Horror twisted his face, and he recoiled, his voice like thunder as he rejected her offering. Flesh, especially such as this, was forbidden to him. It was then that Oya learned the truth: Oshun had tricked her. The flesh Oshun had presented was not her own but that of a goat.

The revelation ignited a storm within Oya, one that mirrored the chaos in the skies. Her tears, born of humiliation and rage, poured into the earth, swelling into a river that roared with her anguish. Oshun, triumphant, transformed into a river herself, her laughter rippling through the waters as she mocked Oya’s pain.
For days, the rivers clashed, their fury unstoppable. It took the intervention of a divine arbiter to separate them, placing stones between their waters and creating an eternal divide. Though their forms were stilled, their enmity persisted, seeping into the fabric of time itself.
Centuries passed, yet the rivalry between Oya and Oshun never faded. Its echoes found new life in Fortune City, a place where mortals and gods once walked side by side. But the greed and power struggles of some gods—Oya among them—forced a divide between the mortal and immortal worlds. To maintain balance, the gods agreed to wield their influence through chosen mortal champions.
Every few decades, a mysterious competition would arise, cloaked in secrecy. To mortals, it seemed like a simple test of skill or strength, but for the gods, it was a battleground. The victor would gain dominion over both realms, tipping the balance of power.

This year, the stage is set once again. Oya, relentless in her quest for supremacy, has crafted a new scheme. She plans to humiliate Oshun by targeting her daughter, Adesola—a demi-god whose very existence is a testament to Oshun’s grace.
Adesola, however, knows nothing of her divine heritage. In Sun City, she lives the life of an ordinary young woman, her beauty turning heads but her heart burdened by struggles she cannot yet name. With no training, no knowledge of her powers, and no clue about the storm brewing around her, Adesola is far from ready for what lies ahead.
But destiny waits for no one.

Hi, all...
So, I'm posting a story that I just told on Youtube.
Here's the link:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NYauC4zLBls

However, I have a more comprehensive version that I will post here every four days or so. But would have posted it up for sale by then. Do enjoy the first few chapters

Bro.... Calm down.

You should have contacted a mod and read what really banned you in your profile.

How long have you spent on the forum?

You should know by now that if you post anything with a link, Antispambot automatically bans it.
Our job is to help revive the content.


Several authors have sold their books through Nairaland. So, I see no reason anyone should pick on you....


So, if you still feel the need to leave, Godspeed...

I've done this before, but once in a while I like to have fun creating book covers.

So, don't expect over-the-top-design, but I can be creative... And I'm creating only the front cover (for free)...
I can only do one cover at a time. So, if you need more, you might need to use another reply option.



Now, all I need from you are:

1. Book Name
2. Author name
3. Any word you want on it.. Like "Free Things are not really free... Except the person giving it wants to add it to his portfolio".
4. Book Genre.
5. Synopsis
6. Any idea you have for the book.
7. Any sample of book cover you have in mind (Don't worry, it can be a complex design


Let's enjoy it while it lasts...

sochey:
Nice!!

Thanks

Epilogue
Everything transformed quickly. The Queen invited the heroes to join the Queen’s guard training. Imoye enjoyed peace, with Queen Ademiposi expanding her army to protect all city roads. Baba Oje received many gifts and moved to live with the Queen.
Adio married Feyisara, Irede wed Suberu Oje, Olu and Tinuola married, and Ojo and Segilola became a couple. Suberu and the Prince grew closer.

From time immemorial, men and women have excelled when following their chosen paths. Destiny may guide them, but it's action that leads a person to where they truly belong.

Chapter 20
They fought valiantly, attacking the weak spots as Segilola had instructed. One by one, they gained ground. Villagers from Imoye called for their help, but Segilola remained focused, ensuring they didn’t stray from their plan.

However, the tide of battle soon shifted. The leader of the Ogaras, seeing his forces faltering, ordered all his men to converge on Irede’s group. Surrounded and outnumbered, they fought with everything they had, but their strength was waning. Adio’s voice cracked, and Irede could barely fend off the waves of enemies coming for her.

Just as they were about to be overwhelmed, a noise from the forest caught Irede’s attention. She turned to see Suberu, leading a large army. With renewed hope, the Oto group rallied. Suberu’s forces charged in, turning the tide of battle. By evening, the Ogaras had been defeated for the first time, marking a hard-won victory.

Chapter 19
Just when all seemed lost, Baba Oje appeared, limping toward them. "Ah! This is where you are!" he exclaimed, his voice a mix of relief and weariness. Tinuola had told him where to find them, but he was without any tools to help. "You’ll have to break the door yourselves," he said, sitting down as if the task was trivial.

With no weapons at hand, Adio voiced his frustration. "How are we supposed to do that?"

Baba Oje gave them a knowing smile. "You have more power than you realize. Adio, give us music. Irede, fight the cage."

Adio looked bewildered. "There’s no instrument here."

"It’s not the instrument," Baba Oje corrected. "It’s you. Sing."

Reluctantly, Adio began to sing, his voice shaky at first, but as the melody grew, so did Irede’s strength. She grabbed the machete, which had previously seemed useless, and with renewed energy, hacked at the door until it finally gave way.

Before they could make a run for it, Segilola stopped them. "We need a plan. We can’t just charge in. Our formation needs to be strong." She turned to Ojo. "This time, look for the weak spots, the places that give us an advantage. Even if the strongest people are guarding them, that’s where we’ll strike."

Though Ojo was still injured, he nodded, his determination matching Segilola’s. Tinuola, refusing to leave Olu’s side, vowed to help however she could. Despite Olu’s protests, the group prepared to enter the battlefield once again.

Chapter 18
Their peace was short-lived, however. Outside, the sounds of chaos erupted. Tinuola, wide-eyed and frantic, rushed to them with tears streaming down her face. She tugged at the cage, trying desperately to free them, but the door wouldn’t budge. The town had been overrun by the Ogaras, and there was no way for them to escape.

"Go!" Olu shouted at her, fear lacing his voice. "You can’t stay here. Get out while you can!"

But Tinuola refused, shaking her head in defiance. "I can’t leave you alone! What if something happens to you?"

Olu’s eyes softened, torn between fear for her safety and his desire to have her by his side. "Nothing will happen to us," he insisted, though his voice lacked conviction. Reluctantly, Tinuola obeyed and fled, leaving the group behind in the rising turmoil.

As the noise of battle drew closer, they grew more desperate. Ojo, his voice weak, muttered something about the Ogaras, but Irede was too busy trying to force the door open to listen. Adio joined her, pushing and pulling at the heavy gate, but their efforts were in vain.

Chapter 17
By the next morning, chaos reigned. When Balogun learned what had happened, he was furious. "Bring them to me!" he demanded, his voice echoing with authority. Within minutes, men had rounded up the group, though Segilola’s name was called last. She came hurrying, ready to face whatever wrath awaited them.

Balogun berated them, his anger palpable. Ojo, however, wouldn’t stop talking about the animal signs he had seen—birds leaving the forest, animals behaving unusually. "It’s not new!" Balogun snapped, dismissing him, but Ojo persisted, convinced of his observations.

Frustrated and unwilling to hear more, Balogun ordered them all to be imprisoned. Even his own daughter was not spared. Feyisara tried to resist, invoking her father’s name, but Balogun was unmoved. He threw them all into the cell, including her, despite her protests.

Inside the dim, confining space, Irede felt the loneliness press down on her. She had always been the one to fight, to push forward, but now, as she watched Segilola tending to Ojo’s injuries and Feyisara leaning on Adio for comfort, she felt a deep sense of isolation. She couldn’t help but wonder where Suberu was, and whether he had succeeded in his mission to reach the Queen.

As they settled into their confinement, a small comfort arrived in the form of Tinuola, a homely girl who brought them food. Her affection for Olu was evident, and despite the tension, there was a brief moment of levity as Olu mentioned they hoped to marry soon. "You’re not too old," Irede teased, though Olu shot back, "But not too young for marriage."

Chapter 16
With Suberu and Yomi gone to visit the Queen and confirm the truths they had uncovered, the group felt a heavy sense of uncertainty. Adio, deep in thought as their horse trudged along, couldn’t shake his unease. He had stopped singing, a rare occurrence, and Feyisara, riding beside him, noticed. "You’ve stopped singing," she remarked softly, her head resting against him.

Adio nodded, though he remembered she couldn’t see him. "Yes. I don’t know how we’ll tell the Chief the truth we know. And then there’s Balogun to face."

Irede, sharp as ever, called from her horseback. "Don’t forget about Balogun! He’ll want answers too."
The tension was thick as the group rode on in silence, save for the occasional rustling of leaves. The weight of their task hung over them, especially for Irede, who seemed to bear the brunt of everyone’s trust and expectations. Even when people tried to mock her, she was the one they listened to. Yet, the fatigue from the recent battle and their uncertainty about what lay ahead had silenced everyone.

Eventually, Feyisara sighed, breaking the silence. "Segilola can talk to her father, and I’ll speak with mine." Her voice was tired, her body aching from the ordeal, but determination underlined her words.

When they reached the Chief’s house, the reception wasn’t what they expected. Rather than relief or celebration, the air was thick with mourning. Soldiers had fallen in an ambush by the Ogara warriors, and the village had been thrown into grief. Segilola, still rattled by Ojo’s injury, seemed barely present, her focus consumed by worry for him. "I can only try," she said when Feyisara mentioned her father. It was clear her mind was elsewhere.

Adio glanced at the group. They were all exhausted, physically and mentally. "Let’s tell them after we’ve slept for a bit," he suggested.

"No," Segilola corrected him. "We’ll tell the leaders when we wake up. We have to warn them so people can be ready."

Though they were too tired to argue, Olu muttered something about needing sleep, and Ojo, lying nearby, murmured in agreement. The night wore on, and despite their exhaustion, they managed to spread word of what they’d discovered. Panic spread quickly through the village, and instead of preparing for battle, people began packing their things, ready to flee.

Chapter 15

After several attempts, the group finally reached the Ogaras, who were gathered around a fire. Irede felt the pressure to excel, knowing the Ogaras were feared fighters. Suberu's trust in her made her nervous, and Ojo emphasized the need for light so Adio could see Irede and vice versa.

The team faced a dilemma: Suberu proposed going near the fire, but Segilola and Ojo debated the plan's risks. Segilola insisted on accompanying Ojo, while Suberu and Olu would distract the Ogaras. The plan was eventually settled, and Segilola and Ojo set traps while Suberu and Olu created a diversion.

The execution went smoothly, with Olu's trick leading several Ogaras into the traps. Suberu and Yomi retrieved a torch and called for Irede. With Adio drumming, Irede felt invigorated, predicting the Ogaras' moves and fighting them effectively despite their aggression.

When the last Ogaras fell, Suberu announced they had found Feyisara. Adio and Feyisara embraced, while Irede, exhausted, began to collapse. Segilola, holding a torch and Ojo, left immediately to seek help. Suberu and Yomi mounted horses with captured Ogaras and headed toward the Queen's palace.

Before losing consciousness, Irede saw her team making their escape. "Farewell," she whispered as she drifted off.

Chapter 14
Unlike before, when Suberu tried too hard to win, he now focused on the group's training, leaving winning as a secondary concern. Segilola had taken over their regimen, leading with efficiency and precision. Despite Suberu being made the leader due to his zeal, it was Segilola’s authority that held the group together. Suberu showed his dedication by arriving early, bringing gifts, and motivating the group during long hours of practice.

Ojo, always experimenting, kept testing Irede and Adio with his strategies, which sometimes irked Irede enough to want to silence him. Despite this, the group discovered a critical tactic during their training: those who fought in support of Adio's music and Irede's moves gained a distinct advantage. Segilola was the first to try, defeating the boys effortlessly, and even Ojo won battles when supported by Adio's rhythm. However, without Irede, Adio’s music lost its strength.

The group grew stronger, and they began to work as a coordinated unit, thanks to Ojo’s guidance. Meanwhile, Irede received blessings to visit other clans for additional training, with the group often accompanying her to watch. As the Chief prepared for Feyisara and Ajanaku’s wedding, Adio found more opportunities to spend time with Feyisara.

Five days before the wedding, Suberu called the group together. "This is what we’ve been preparing for. Now, we show everyone what we’re made of," he announced. Ojo added his thoughts, warning them that something bigger was coming. "The animals are behaving strangely, birds are flying unusually, and the river is dirtier than usual. Something’s wrong."

Despite some skepticism, Segilola supported Ojo’s observations, deducing that the Ogaras were planning a larger attack. "They must have raised a new army. We need to fight them here," she urged.

Suberu agreed, suggesting they inform the Queen. But the group knew the Chief needed to believe them first. The urgency in their preparations heightened as the sounds of horns filled the air—Balogun’s men were already rallying.

Despite their success in practice, Balogun doubted their readiness for real battle. "We’re no longer the last!" Segilola protested, but Balogun dismissed their accomplishments, leaving them behind to guard the border.

Suberu and Ojo quickly realized that Balogun’s path wasn’t right. The Ogaras had left misleading tracks, and they suspected an ambush. "They’re planning something bigger," Ojo warned. Segilola pieced it together: the Ogaras had likely allied with a foreign army, and Feyisara was being held as leverage.

Determined to rescue Feyisara and stop the looming threat, Segilola devised a strategy. Though Adio initially doubted the plan, they made adjustments until everyone agreed. "Let’s win them first," Irede declared, steeling herself for the battle ahead.

With their new plan set, Suberu looked at the group. "We can do this." The fight for Feyisara—and their survival—was about to begin.

Chapter 13
Adio wasn’t one to just agree right away. When Segilola told him to act like a fool and wait, he frowned.
"I don’t see why I should," he argued. "I’ve worked hard. I want to show everyone what I can do, especially at Feyisara’s introduction."
Segilola shook her head. "You’ll ruin everything if you show your hand too soon. Trust me. We need to stay quiet for now, or they’ll prepare for us."
Adio crossed his arms. "I’m not afraid of anyone. I can take them on."
"You’re not getting it," Segilola snapped, her eyes narrowing. "This isn’t about fear. It’s about strategy. If they think we’re weak, they won’t be ready when we finally show them what we’ve got. We’ll have the upper hand."
Adio still wasn’t convinced, but he knew Segilola was smart. The others watched quietly, waiting to see if he’d listen.
After a moment, he sighed. "Fine, I’ll wait. But when the time comes, I won’t hold back."
"Good," Segilola replied with a grin. "We’ll make them regret underestimating us."

The group agreed to keep their true skills a secret until they were ready to show the world what they could really do.
Segilola presented a plan, and after some adjustments, the team prepared to implement it. Adio, though uncertain, was determined to rescue Feyisara. With the plan in place, they set out with renewed resolve.

Chapter 12
Realizing the potential of this newfound coordination, Suberu decided to test it further. He called Ojo to the center and had him fight Irede while Adio drummed. The results were even more impressive. Each beat of Adio’s drum seemed to empower Irede, making her fighting movements even more effective.

As Irede continued to demonstrate her improved abilities, the group’s expressions shifted from skepticism to realization. They understood that the synergy between Adio’s drumming and Irede’s fighting could be a significant advantage.

“What’s happening?” Adio asked, bewildered by the sudden change.

Segilola explained that whenever Adio played, Irede’s fighting skills improved, and the combination of their talents could be their secret weapon. Suberu, seeing the potential, proposed informing Balogun of this breakthrough. However, Segilola suggested they needed more training to ensure they were fully prepared before revealing their progress.

Despite initial hesitation, the group agreed to continue their rigorous training, determined to perfect their newfound skills. Adio, however, was more focused on showcasing his abilities during Feyisara’s introduction. He wanted to impress her and others by revealing the extent of his progress. But Segilola, ever the strategist, advised him against it. She believed it was too soon and insisted they keep their true strength hidden until the right moment.

Chapter 11
Segilola revealed that she was the one that told the other members.
Afterwards, Segilola vented her frustration about the preparations for Feyisara’s introduction. She explained how her father was trying to enlist help from the Chief of Kukoro and the Queen, but the Queen had refused to risk her troops for a matter that the local warriors should handle. Suberu, clearly exasperated by the group's lack of progress, decided it was time for a new approach.

“Adio, play something,” Suberu demanded, hoping to distract from the ongoing frustrations. Adio reluctantly picked up his instrument, but his performance was lackluster, drawing horrible looks from both Suberu and the others. As he played, Suberu’s frustration boiled over.

“Stop! It’s just noise!” Suberu yelled. “Irede, get ready. Let’s see if this noise can be useful.”

Irede rolled her eyes but took her position, preparing for a practice session. Adio, feeling disheartened, tried to play more purposefully, hoping to contribute something valuable. As he began, something unexpected happened: Irede’s strikes started to synchronize with his drumming. Her movements became sharper and more precise, almost as if they were being guided by the rhythm of his drums.

Suberu and the others watched in astonishment as Irede’s skill visibly improved. Encouraged by this development, Suberu instructed Olu and Yomi to spar with Irede. To their surprise, Irede outpaced them effortlessly, her speed and accuracy enhanced by Adio’s drumming.

Chapter 10
Despite her reluctance, Segilola continued to train with the group. Their efforts were met with consistent criticism from Balogun, but they persisted. Irede sought additional training from Ajanaku, who introduced her to Owoaje for a new style of training called "dance like a fighter." This unconventional approach proved effective, helping Irede and the group build confidence and skill.

As they trained together, the group began to bond and support one another. They laughed, raced, and celebrated their small victories, gradually improving their performance. Irede and Adio, in particular, found solace and motivation in their shared struggle.

One morning, Irede and Adio secretly met to practice, each determined to excel in their respective areas. To their surprise, Suberu and the others, having noticed their dedication, joined them for practice. The group's unity grew stronger, and their training became more focused and effective.

Chapter 9
Balogun's consistent training sessions for the group led to some progress, though the Oto band struggled. Segilola, despite her skill, remained disengaged due to her resentment toward her father. Her refusal to participate in group activities and her harsh criticisms of her teammates only deepened the divide.

In a heated confrontation, Suberu challenged Segilola's attitude, emphasizing the importance of effort and resilience. Segilola’s outburst revealed her frustration with her father’s expectations and her belief that her teammates were inadequate. Suberu and the others rallied to motivate her, stressing that perseverance was crucial.

The group sought advice from Baba Oje, who provided them with a confidence-boosting medicine and suggested that they find their own answers. Irede, newly empowered, challenged Suberu to a sparring match but was easily defeated, highlighting the gaps in her training.

Feeling demoralized, Adio turned to his music, hoping to impress Feyisara. However, his performance was dismissed as amusing rather than impressive, leading to further humiliation. Feyisara invited him to be a clown at her wedding introduction, which left Adio feeling deeply hurt.