The wedding ceremony was brief. A few elders from the neighborhood were called to witness it. No one asked questions. No one challenged the arrangement.
In Zima Town, people had learned to mind their business, even when something felt wrong.
Baba Akutu arrived slowly, leaning on his staff as usual. He wore the same simple clothing. Nothing about him suggested importance. Nothing about him suggested wealth. Nothing about him suggested that this moment, this marriage, carried any significance beyond what everyone could see.
Except his eyes.
When his gaze met Soma’s, something unspoken passed between them.
Something steady.
Something calm.
It unsettled her.
“Do you accept him as your husband?” one of the elders asked.
Soma’s throat stiffened.
For a moment, she wanted to speak, to say no, to run, to fight.
But then she remembered Felicia’s words.
“Do you want to stay in this house? Do you want food? Do you want shelter?”
Her voice came out barely above a whisper.
“Yes.”
“And you, Baba Akutu?”
The old man nodded slowly.
“I accept her.”
The words were simple, but the way he said them, it didn’t feel ordinary.
It felt intentional.
By afternoon, everything was over, just like that.
Soma was no longer part of Felicia’s house. No farewell. No blessing. Just a quiet exit.
As she stepped out of the compound with Baba Akutu, she glanced back once. Caro stood by the doorway, smiling faintly. Not out of kindness, but satisfaction.
And Felicia?
She didn’t even come outside.
The walk to Baba Akutu’s house felt longer than usual. The same streets Soma had walked countless times now felt unfamiliar, heavy, like she was crossing into something she could not return from.
Neither of them spoke until they reached the gate.
Baba Akutu stopped and turned to her.
“Are you afraid?” he asked.
