In Efon Alaye, a quiet village by the river and the sea, everyone spokes in hushed tones about mami water. Some called her beautiful, some dangerous, but all knew she was powerful.
Children played by the river, fishermen hauled their nets at sunrise, and at night, if the moon was full, strange music would drift across the water. It wasn’t music from human mouths—it was soft, haunting, and full of longing.
However , Those who listen said it was mami water calling.
Some villagers avoided the river at night, afraid of her beauty and power. Others, like Amara, felt an irresistible pull to know her secrets.
Chapter 1: Amara’s Curiosity
Amara was fifteen, with bright eyes and a mind full of questions. Her grandmother, Ireti, was the village healer and keeper of old stories.
She told Amara of mami water from the time she could walk.
“She is beautiful,” Ireti would say. “Hair like the night sky, eyes that hold all the seas, and a voice that can heal or destroy.”
Amara never feared these stories. She felt drawn to them. Every morning, she helped her grandmother gather herbs, tend the sick, and learn songs that were said to honor water spirits.
One evening, as a storm rolled over the village, Amara felt a strange tug in her chest. Her grandmother’s words echoed:
“When the river sings under the moon, go. She is calling you.”
Amara left the small hut where she lived alone. The wind tugged at her clothes, carrying the scent of rain and salt. She walked to the riverbank, her feet sinking into the wet sand.
A faint melody floated on the breeze. It was soft and beautiful, unlike any human music.
Her heart pounded as she approached the water.
And then she saw her reflection and another.
A glowing figure rose from the river. Her hair flowed like seaweed, eyes shimmering like stars, and skin shining with a light that seemed both warm and cold.
“Amara,” the figure said, her voice like water spilling over rocks, “you heard my song. Why are you here?”
“To learn,” Amara whispered. “To know the truth.”
The spirit smiled, and Amara felt the pull of the river stronger than ever. She reached out, touched her hand and the world around her melted into swirling water and light.
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Chapter 2: The Underwater Realm
When Amara opened her eyes, she was underwater but she could breathe as if the air itself had turned to water. The world beneath the river was breathtaking.
Fish shimmered like rainbows, coral glowed faintly, and ruins of ancient temples rose from the riverbed. Jellyfish floated gracefully, casting gentle light.
Every current seemed alive, carrying voices that hummed like memories.
“This is the realm of mami water,” the spirit said, gliding beside Amara. “Here, every drop of water holds memory. Every life, every joy, every sorrow it is all remembered.”
Amara’s eyes widened. “Why show me this?”
“Because humans forget,” the spirit said. “You waste rivers, pollute streams, and take without care. The water remembers. And when it is forgotten, it reminds you.”
The spirit guided Amara to a circle of glowing orbs. Each orb held a scene from the human world: villages flooded, fishermen struggling, children crying for clean water.
“You see the consequences,” the spirit said. “Water is patient, but even patience has limits.”
Amara shivered. She realized how little her village and the world—truly respected water.
Chapter 3: The First Warning
Suddenly, Amara felt herself pulled back to the riverbank. She gasped as she saw the village. The river had grown wild, furious with rushing water destroying everything in its path.
Trees were uprooted. Huts were half-submerged. People ran, screaming, trying to save what they could. The river had become a living, angry thing.
Amara ran toward the chaos. She healed the injured, calmed children, and guided families to higher ground.
All the while, she heard mami water’s voice in her mind, giving her strength.
“This is not punishment,” the spirit said. “This is a reminder. Respect life, or it will remind you in ways you cannot ignore.”
Amara helped villagers build barriers, moved the sick to safe spots, and whispered the protective songs her grandmother had taught her.
Even in fear, she felt a deep connection with the river, as if it were listening, learning, and judging at once.
Chapter 4: Learning the Ways of Water
After the flood, Amara returned daily to the river. She studied the currents, listened to the whispers, and learned how mami water guided life.
She discovered that rivers had moods: calm and gentle one day, restless and wild the next. The river responded to care or neglect, to gratitude or greed. Every plant, fish, and bird was part of her lesson.
She began teaching other villagers the songs of mami water—chants to bless the water, to honor it, and to ask permission before taking from it. Slowly, the village started to change. Nets became lighter, crops healthier, and children laughed without fear of the river.
Amara realized that learning from mami water wasn’t about magic—it was about understanding balance, respect, and the invisible connections between all living things.
Chapter 5: The Covenant
One quiet night, under a full moon, mami water appeared again. She stood on the river, glowing softly.
“You have learned well,” she said. “You have begun to honor the water. But remember, humans often forget.”
Amara bowed. “We promise to protect the rivers, the streams, and the creatures that live in them.”
The spirit nodded. “Then the waters will remember your care. Life and water must flow together, in harmony. Break this covenant, and the river will remind you.”
With that, she vanished beneath the moonlit waves.
Chapter 6: Songs of the Village
Years passed. Efon Alaye thrived. Villagers respected the rivers, planting trees along the banks, cleaning streams, and teaching their children the songs of mami water.
Amara became the village healer, combining herbs and the river’s wisdom. She taught people that the songs of the river weren’t just music they were lessons about life, balance, and respect.
Sometimes, at night, a soft melody drifted on the breeze from the river. Villagers paused to listen, smiling.
They knew it was mami water, reminding them that water carries memory and that every choice mattered.
Amara often whispered to the river, “Thank you for trusting us, for guiding us.” And in the gentle lapping of the waves, she felt a quiet approval a bond between humans and water that would last for generations.
