The journey was undertaken without much thought or planning, but there were no signs of a town ahead or behind them. Abu Huraira and the others had no torchlight except for their phones. Their minds were completely unsettled. The fuel in their car had run out, leaving them stranded in the middle of the bush with no clear path forward or backward. They were fleeing danger, but in this dense forest, there was nowhere to hide if they encountered something terrifying. In a short time, they grew thin and weary.
"I don’t think it was a good idea to leave the car behind tonight. We should sleep as we usually do, and if possible, continue the journey in the morning," Dawud said, nodding in agreement with Abu Sufyan’s explanation.
"That makes sense. Let’s sleep, but if we eat the last of the bread and those dry donuts, I’m certain hunger will destroy us tomorrow if we don’t find a way out of this forest. We don’t have any other means of cooking," Abu Huraira said, shaking his head.
"May Allah help us. In the small bag at the back, there are plenty of cookies and chewing gum. We haven’t touched them yet. If you want, we can also take the bread Baba Ladi left, though it’s starting to get stale," Abu Huraira added. No one spoke that night. They slept in the back of the car, all of them cramped and uneasy.
By dawn, after performing the Subh prayer, they set out on the path they thought might lead somewhere, though their hearts weren’t fully convinced it was the right way. They had no other choice.
Silence hung over them for nearly fifty minutes. The path they believed would lead them out vanished before their eyes. They were astonished to see a vast sea ahead. Since they had abandoned the car, it couldn’t cross water, and they hadn’t taken this route before. Abu Sufyan glanced at the watch on his wrist—it was 5:30 PM. They had been walking since morning because their car had no fuel. They carried bags of flour and drinking water, along with the burden of prayers. They were utterly exhausted. If this path didn’t work out, would they have to turn back? When would they escape this forest? So far, they hadn’t encountered any wild animals, only a few birds and insects, except for one lone jackal. Everyone was lost in their thoughts until Abu Huraira spoke.
"Get up, let’s keep moving and see if we can reach the end of this river. I don’t even think we’re in Nigeria anymore. If we can cross this water, we might find a way out of this endless maze of paths. Honestly, I’m tired of this whole journey." Dawud let out a heavy sigh.
"Exactly, let’s go around it. Since there’s water, by Allah’s grace, there must be a town nearby." They continued along the riverbank, but it seemed endless, with no sign of its end, no matter how far they walked.
After about an hour, with no sign of the river’s end, dusk fell as Maghrib time arrived. They stopped to pray, using the river water for ablution. After praying and reciting from the Holy Quran, they sat waiting for Isha prayer. They turned on the torchlight on Dawud’s phone, which was bright and could even charge another phone. They pressed forward, unwilling to sleep by the riverbank, hoping to find an open, safer place.
The chief of the town was restless. In seven days, a sacrifice was required—a person brave enough to cross the sea and enter their town. Yet, there was still no sign. No one from the town had crossed, and no outsider had arrived. If the week passed without finding someone to sacrifice, the chief himself would be slaughtered, and his family burned alive. In his twenty-three years of rule, this was the first time the deadline was seven days away with no one found. They had sent seven boats, but there was still no news. The chief paced alone in his room, his eyes red with worry. He wanted to end this dark tradition, but he hadn’t found a way. Despite his efforts, the town’s priest wouldn’t allow it. The chief was the longest-serving ruler; others lasted three to seven years at most. In distress, his wife looked at him with an expression he couldn’t decipher and spoke to him.
