Hello everyone.  Ever since my introduce yourself post, I have been working very hard, trying to increase my audience and quality of my writing while also creating posts that impart the lives of my fellow steemians Thankfully, I believe that I have achieved most, if not all of these in the less than month I have spent on this platform. 

I woke up this morning and found out that my found out that I gained 6 more followers overnight; meaning that in less than a month since I registered, I finally clocked my 200th follower. 

When I started off on Steemit, I made a note to self that Steemit would be the dumping ground of sort for all my creative juices. So, I formulated the ultimate heist of all time. To punish you undeserving human kind. I decide to grow my audience; with the aim of developing an inter omnipresence so that I could eventually and unexpectedly turn on my hordes of followers by boring them on end with my tales of magic and wonder

So today. In celebration of me crossing the 200 follower mark, I would be  announcing the chapter by chapter publication of my first novel with the working title "Fireflies in The Dark Continent" which attempts to tell the acrimonious tales of a handful of Africans about 30-40 years before the scramble for Africa hit full gear.

I have been writing down these stories since 2014 but chronic laziness and life's many distractions have meant that the novel remains only about 30% done. But I still believe these are stories worth sharing and I hope that posting them on Steemit would finally provide the light in my belly that I have been looking for to finally tame the story.

Note that the stories and places in the book are fictional and the time frame is not strict; the primary objective is to entertain and educate about African culture, governing systems and beliefs during the period and not necessarily to be historically accurate.

 I would be posting a fresh chapter at least once every two-three days. Do enjoy!

Prologue

The mood is melancholy, it has been so for a couple of years now. But this is unlike ever before, there is a dark gloom radiating from the center of the great capital. The events of the last couple of days has left tributaries of blood which when coupled with the heavy downpour had left the entire metropolis feeling like a river of blood.

Rumors abound that the Wakosi armies, in their countless numbers had  been mustered, armed to the teeth and grinding down hard and fast toward this swarming metropolis of 500,000 or more soon to be ghosts and slaves.

Many have started to panic and started to flee into the country side. Not like that is a great option as we find ourselves surrounded by enemies; but for some, running with the hope of hiding is better than the hopelessness of being trapped here when the Wakosi arrive.

There was a slight glimmer of hope though. The Onikoye still has five battalions; but recent happenings have made his allegiance to the crown ever less ascertainable. The erstwhile Mashori; the treacherous Ologbanle now ruled supreme over what remained of a fast crumbling empire.

Murderers! They all are. These men were once looked up to by all as our heroes and protectors. Somehow, ambition and curiosities for power had now destroyed their illusions of grandeur and perfection. The wolves had shed their sheep cloaks and murdered our innocence in cold blood.

The Field Marshall; the powerful Arofunje is in a heap somewhere far from home. Suicide they say, by poison. An unfitting death for someone of such rank who let his Empire down so much. A pretender has taken his place, but what remains of the army is too small and too disjointed to stop darkness and death from overpowering us.

For months now there has been nothing but executions, flayings, lynchings, suicides and assasination among the ruling class. The peasants had not been left out as factions fought factions leaving hundreds dead. What has happened to the illusions of peace this ancient city? what has happened to all the joy? the carnivals? the pageants, festivals and dances?

Even in the face of this gloom and death. There was still going to be one more set of executions. Mine!

A group of ruffians, visibly tortured and covered from head to toe in blood are led into the city square by cracking whips. I can hear people shouting and screaming, some in protest, others in anger. But their words won't doom or save me and my comrades.

We have been judged and like many before us our treacherous bloods split over the shrine in the market square would hopefully appease the gods and the smoke from our burning shaved hair would chase away the evil from this land.  

We are ordinary slaves whose actions are said to have brought down a thousand year old empire. We were hated by all and everyone wanted  us dead. The usurper wanted us dead to cover his tracks. He was being merciful by commanding us to be beheaded.

The usurper had spoken. The emperor's words cannot be rescinded even by the gods. What about the words of a treacherous usurper who had stolen, lied, cheated and killed in his pursuit of the throne? 

The events of the previous weeks still lay fresh in everyone's minds.   The unnamed man has been named, a greater swine, the cause of all the troubles in the empire. Even more hated than the usurper.  

Whips’ cracking at his back, the nameless man looks up at the bodies of all of his comrades, clean shaven heads all lying on the floor. Together, they had achieved a lot; they had shaken a mountain. His mind went back to his childhood. Such innocent years, his wife, his family, all he had ever loved and the many things he now hated.

There is no going back from here. He takes a deep breath looks into the eyes of the people surrounding. Sooner or later they would meet the same fate as him, every single one of them. Taking a deep breathe he tries to forgive them but he can’t. Alas he’ll die bitter. The monstrous rock on which he would soon lose his head looks dauntless as the empire was seemed. 

Alas! This is where he is going to meet Alamda.  But could he really? He is so far away from home and there are no swamps in this town.

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