THE CHIEF’S DAUGHTER (01)

PART 1: The Forbidden Union

The sun was slowly going down behind the hills of Mapendo village. Birds were flying home in groups, and the sound of drums could be heard from far away. The sky was painted with orange and purple colors, and the wind was soft and cool. It was the kind of evening that usually brought peace, but this one was full of noise, music, and movement.

The house of Chief Gidamu was full of celebration. People had come from different parts of the village. Some were sitting on mats, talking and laughing. Others were dancing near the fire. Women were cooking big pots of food. The smell of roasted meat, spiced rice, and fried bananas filled the air. You could hear children running and playing in the open space as music played from wooden drums and flutes.

It was a special day. Chief Gidamu had called for this celebration to prepare for something important. He was going to announce that his only daughter, Asha, would marry the son of Chief Baraka from the neighboring village of Nduru. People said the marriage would bring peace between the two villages. They believed the two families coming together would make both villages strong.

Many guests were excited. Some were whispering among themselves, saying how lucky Asha was to marry into another powerful family. Others just smiled and nodded, pretending to agree. Deep inside, not everyone felt happy. They knew something was not right. A few women looked at Asha and shook their heads quietly. But no one had the courage to speak against Chief Gidamu. What he said was final.

Asha had grown up under her father’s rules. She had been taught to be strong, to obey, and to respect her family name. But inside her heart, she was different. She had dreams of her own. She had feelings that no one knew about. And on this day, while people were dancing and celebrating outside, Asha sat alone in her hut with tears in her eyes.

She was not thinking about the wedding. She was thinking about Kito.

Kito was a young hunter. He was tall, strong, and kind. He lived a simple life in the same village. He was not from a royal family, and he did not have land or cattle. But he had something more important. He loved Asha truly and deeply, and she loved him too.

They had met many times in secret. Sometimes near the river. Sometimes in the thick bushes outside the village. Sometimes he would bring her small gifts—beads he made, feathers he found, or wild fruits. The last gift he gave her was a small wooden necklace. It was simple, but to her, it was more valuable than gold.

Now, as music played outside, Asha was holding that necklace tightly in her hands. Her heart was heavy. She knew what her father expected, but she also knew what she wanted. She stood up, looked around her small room, and took a deep breath.

“This is not my life,” she whispered to herself. “I will not marry someone I do not love.”

She picked up a small bag she had packed earlier. Inside were just a few things—some food, a wrapper, and the letter she had written to her father. She placed the letter on her mat, opened the door slowly, and stepped out into the night.

Outside, no one noticed her leave. The music was loud. People were dancing, drinking, and talking. She moved quietly, walking through the shadows, avoiding the main path. Her heart was beating fast, but her feet did not stop. She walked until she reached the big tree at the edge of the village. There, standing with his bow and arrows, was Kito.

He had been waiting for her.

“You came,” he said, his voice low and full of emotion.

“I had to,” she replied. “I cannot stay. I cannot pretend.”

Kito looked at her and smiled, though his eyes showed how worried he was. He knew the danger. The forest ahead was not safe. Wild animals lived there. People said no one who entered came back. But it was their only hope.

“I have some food,” he said. “We can make it if we stay together.”

“I don’t care where we live,” Asha said. “Even if it means living on trees and eating wild fruit, I would rather live free than be locked in a golden prison.”

They held hands and began walking into the thick forest. Trees stood tall around them. The sound of the village faded behind. All they could hear now was the wind, the crickets, and the sound of their own footsteps.

Back at the palace, a young servant was walking to Chief Gidamu’s room. He looked nervous. His hands were shaking. When he reached the door, he knocked gently, then pushed it open.

“Chief,” he said, breathing heavily. “Your daughter Asha… she is not in her hut. I saw her. She went into the forest with that boy… Kito.”

Chief Gidamu stood up at once. He did not speak for a few seconds. His eyes were wide, his chest rising and falling. Then his voice came out like thunder.

“Get the guards!” he shouted. “Find her. I do not care what it takes. Bring her back. Alive or not. She belongs here. Not in the wild!”

Everyone in the palace stopped moving. The music outside slowly faded. The mood of the celebration changed. People began to whisper. Some looked worried. Others were confused. But one thing was clear.

The chief’s daughter was gone.

TO BE CONTINUED…