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Wendy, Kelechi and Sammy begged me to stay one day longer, but with a smile, I turned them down. If I knew I would experience all this again, then staying back would have been a better choice. While on the bus, I had forgotten about the busy but enjoyable days in Surulere. I salivated while imagining the sweet aroma and flavour of my mother’s indigenous dishes. How I would sit comfortably to roll down Amala and Egusi soup down my throat was all that combed through my mind. The bus finally came to a halt in my town and the driver horned us down. With the fresh breath of air coming from the Ameku stream, I jumped down—a proud son of the soil—and plied the untarred Amobolobo road towards my community. Drawing nearer were the increasing sound of screaming and landed punches. What’s going on, I asked a passerby. The Iweres and the Amajiris are having a clash again, he replied. I came closer to take a better view, and by the two corners leading to the village square, were two unlucky Amajiris who had crossed the path of the Iweres. They lay down begging for their lives while the Iweres surrounded and served them with incessant blows and all manners of beating. There was no pity in the Iweres’ eye. So, I decided to mind my business, leave the Amajiris to their fate and keep walking home. As I took a sharp turn to do that, my eyes caught something. By the corner of a nearby house sat a girl looking seemingly in her seventeens. She was wrapped in icy fear and was stealthily attempting to untie the Hijab on her head—to avoid detection. Oh! Another unlucky Amajiri, I thought. I stood for a moment thinking of what to do. I knew I had to make a swift move or the fate that awaited her could be awful. But being an Iwere, would she even trust me to save her? I walked hurriedly towards her. On seeing me, she tightened her hands round her head and locked them deeply between her knees, muttering gibberish. All I could make out of it was—please don’t harm me, I am an only child. I wish she knew that a saviour was standing before her, and I stood, thinking of the best gesture or words with which to gain her trust. In my most calm nature, I spoke out politely. I will stand by you, I said. On hearing this, she lifted her head with fear still in her eyes. I held out my hand slowly towards her, and to my surprise, she grabbed it. Hm... I breathed in relief and helped her to stand. She locked her fingers in mine and walked with shaky legs while we made for her home. As we walked through the village square to cross over to her community, we bumped into some Amajiris looking at us from the corner of their eye with suspicion. My heart throbbed as I struggled to compose myself. Is she your sister, questioned one of them. Yes, I replied courageously. Immediately we got to her compound, she unlocked our hands and ran into their old hut. I walked after her and when I got in; I saw her embracing her mother, who was lying down, sick with age. It was a heartfelt moment. After a while, her old mother turned to me. Stranger..., thank you for bringing my jewel home, she slowly said, and I returned her words with a glaring smile. I am Sheila, her daughter said to me. And I am Simon, I replied. She moved her hand into a chest and reached out to me. Take this bracelet, it was my father’s good luck charm, said she. I took it, made for the door and was leaving. She ran towards me, jumped up and hugged me tightly. I never knew I would make it home in one piece, I will never forget your kindness, she said in a crying tone. I felt her chest beating against mine and for the next three minutes; she cried silently on my shoulder, not ready to let go.