Mother Village Chapter 1 May 2026

Koffi had heard this story every Dry Season for fifteen years, always from a different grandmother, always with the same ending: “You are not from Lapazza, child. Lapazza is from you.”

The old women of Lapazza said the village was born from a single tear. Not a tear of sorrow, but of exhaustion—dropped by the first mother, Yema, as she collapsed after walking for three moons with a child on her back and another in her belly. Where the tear hit the cracked earth, a spring burst forth. Where the spring flowed, the baobab grew. And where the baobab cast its shade, Lapazza took root.

The Old Wall was higher than he remembered. Or maybe he was smaller. He climbed it anyway, scraping his knees on stones that felt warm, almost feverish. At the top, he paused. mother village chapter 1

Koffi pulled back. The crack was gone.

It was small, running along the base of the baobab’s eastern root—the root that pointed toward the Ashen Grove. He had never seen it before. But when he knelt and pressed his ear to the bark, he heard something that made his blood hum. Koffi had heard this story every Dry Season

Koffi looked back at Lapazza. From here, it looked peaceful: round huts with thatched roofs, smoke curling from cooking pits, children chasing a lame goat. But he saw what others didn’t. The wells were shrinking. The goats gave sour milk. The babies were born with gray eyes that turned brown after three days—except now, they stayed gray.

Now, at the edge of the Cassava Field, he held the leaking gourd—his mother’s favorite water gourd, the one with the gourd-bird carved into its side. It wasn’t leaking water. It was leaking a thin, silvery sap that smelled of milk and thunder. He had never seen sap like that. Neither had Tebo, who had crossed himself with ash when Koffi showed him. Where the tear hit the cracked earth, a spring burst forth

A voice. Not the whisper of ancestors or the creak of old magic. A woman’s voice, clear as a bell, saying: “The first mother didn’t weep from exhaustion. She wept because she had to leave one behind.”