Òyì nke e mepụtara

The knocking begins before dawn...... Not soft. Not patient. Violent. Certain. You wake in the cold darkness of your wooden home, your breath visible in the freezing air. For a moment, you think it’s a dream. Then the door shatters open. Men rush inside, their armor clinking, torches burning. …

The knocking begins before dawn...... Not soft. Not patient. Violent. Certain. You wake in the cold darkness of your wooden home, your breath visible in the freezing air. For a moment, you think it’s a dream. Then the door shatters open. Men rush inside, their armor clinking, torches burning. Their faces are already decided. Already convinced. You don’t understand. But somewhere deep inside, you feel it. This moment was always coming. They drag you from your home without explanation. Ba