05/04/2026
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WHEN THE MEN WERE TAKEN
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Chapter 7: The Weight of the Journey
The forest felt different at night.
During the day, the trees had looked tall and protective.
But now, in the darkness, they felt like silent giants watching every step the group took.
Amina sat with her back against a rough tree trunk, her legs stretched out in front of her.
Every muscle in her body ached.
She had never walked this far in her life.
Back in Kawuma, the farthest she usually went was to the farms near the river with her father.
But this journey was different.
There were no familiar paths.
No laughter.
No safety.
Only darkness, tired feet, and the heavy knowledge that somewhere ahead, the people they loved were suffering.
Beside her, Musa slept lightly, his breathing uneven. Even in sleep, his body twitched as if he were reliving something terrible.
Tariq sat a few steps away, watching the forest carefully.
Adjoa noticed.
“You don’t sleep?” she asked quietly.
Tariq shook his head.
“Not much.”
“Why?”
The boy’s eyes stayed on the trees.
“Because when I slept in the forest before… they found me.”
The words hung in the air like a warning.
Adjoa didn’t ask any more questions.
A cold wind brushed through the leaves.
One of the women, Efua, pulled her cloth tighter around her shoulders.
“I’m not used to this cold,” she whispered.
“In the village the fires always keep us warm.”
Amina nodded slowly.
Everything felt different away from home.
Even the air.
Even the silence.
For a moment, her thoughts drifted back to Kawuma.
She imagined her mother sitting outside their house, staring at the road.
Waiting.
Praying.
Hoping.
The image made her chest tighten painfully.
I will come back, Amina promised silently.
And I won’t come back alone.
At dawn, Tariq woke everyone.
“We should move before the hunters realize we changed direction.”
The group slowly stood up.
Their legs felt stiff and heavy.
Musa struggled the most.
His body had already been through days of suffering before they met him.
Amina noticed him limping slightly.
“Your feet,” she said.
Musa tried to hide it.
“They’re fine.”
But when he took another step, he winced.
Amina gently pulled him aside.
“Show me.”
He hesitated before lifting his foot.
The skin was torn and blistered.
Some parts had even started bleeding.
Adjoa frowned when she saw it.
“You cannot walk like this for four days.”
Musa looked down.
“I have to.”
“No,” Amina said softly.
“We help each other.”
She tore a small piece of cloth from the edge of her wrapper and carefully wrapped it around his foot.
It wasn’t perfect.
But it would protect the wounds for now.
Musa looked at her with quiet gratitude.
“Thank you.”
Amina simply nodded.
Then the group started walking again.
The forest slowly began to thin as the morning passed.
More sunlight reached the ground now.
Birds returned to the branches above them.
For the first time since leaving Kawuma, the forest felt slightly less threatening.
But the journey was starting to take its toll.
Efua’s breathing grew heavier.
Another woman, Ama, had developed a painful limp.
Even Adjoa, the strongest among them, looked exhausted.
Hunger made everything worse.
Their small supply of food was shrinking quickly.
At midday they stopped briefly beside a narrow stream.
Everyone knelt down to drink.
The cold water felt refreshing.
But it also reminded them of something painful.
Their food bag was nearly empty.
Adjoa opened it and stared inside.
“Only two pieces of cassava left.”
A heavy silence fell over the group.
That food had to last the entire day.
Amina broke the cassava into small pieces.
Everyone received a tiny portion.
Barely enough to quiet the hunger in their stomachs.
Musa looked at his piece.
Then quietly handed it back.
“You should take mine.”
Amina frowned.
“No.”
“You need strength.”
“So do you.”
Musa shook his head.
“I already survived the mountains once.”
“You didn’t survive them,” Amina said gently.
“You escaped.”
The boy hesitated.
Then slowly ate his share.
They continued walking through the afternoon.
Step after step.
Hour after hour.
The mountains finally became visible through the trees.
Tall.
Red.
Rising sharply against the horizon.
Seeing them made everyone stop.
For a long moment, the group simply stared.
Those mountains were where the prisoners were kept.
Somewhere inside them…
Amina’s father and brother were working in dark tunnels.
Maybe starving.
Maybe injured.
Maybe losing hope.
Her heart pounded painfully.
Adjoa stood beside her.
“That’s where they took them.”
Amina nodded.
“Yes.”
But Tariq suddenly raised his hand.
“Wait.”
Everyone froze.
“What is it?” Amina asked.
Tariq crouched down slowly.
He touched the dirt with his fingers.
Then he looked up.
“They found us.”
Fear returned instantly.
“What do you mean?” Ama whispered.
Tariq pointed to the ground.
Fresh footprints.
Large ones.
Boot marks.
Not theirs.
Not old.
Very recent.
Musa’s face turned pale.
“The hunters…”
Adjoa looked around quickly.
“How close are they?”
Tariq studied the ground again.
“Close enough.”
A cold silence fell over the group.
The hunters had followed their trail again.
And this time…
They were much closer.
Amina looked toward the mountains rising ahead.
Then back toward the forest behind them.
Their time was running out.
Adjoa gripped her stick tightly.
“So what do we do now?”
Amina took a slow breath.
Her voice was calm.
But determined.
“We stop running.”
Everyone stared at her.
“What?” Efua asked.
Amina’s eyes hardened.
“If they are tracking us… we turn the hunt around.”
Adjoa’s eyebrows lifted.
“You want to trap the hunters?”
Amina nodded slowly.
“Yes.”
The forest grew quiet again.
Because now the journey had changed.
They were no longer just travelers.
And they were no longer just prey.
Now…
They were preparing to fight.
💬 If you want Chapter 8 tomorrow, comment:
“FIGHT BACK” or “STAY STRONG”
Because the next chapter reveals whether Amina’s dangerous plan against the hunters will succeed… or cost them everything
