“Good afternoon,” Amara greeted them, trying to smile.
“Good afternoon,” one of the hunters replied coldly. “We are looking for the woman who went to the river early this morning to fetch water. She left her pot there.”
He looked directly into Amara’s eyes.
Amara’s heart was beating very fast, but she controlled herself. She took a deep breath and replied calmly, “I do not know who went to the river this morning. I have been here since early morning, pounding cassava.”
The hunters looked inside the small hut, but saw nothing suspicious. Amara stood firmly, praying silently that they would leave.
After a few seconds, the hunters shrugged and turned away, leaving Amara’s compound.
Amara quickly shut the door and leaned against it, her chest rising and falling fast.
She knew she could not keep the mermaid in her hut anymore, or the hunters might return and search her house.
That night, when the moon was shining in the sky and the stars were blinking brightly, Amara called her children, Chijioke and his younger sister, Nenna.
“Chijioke, Nenna,” she whispered, “Mama is going somewhere. I want you to lock the door from inside and do not open it for anyone until I return.”
“Mama, where are you going at night?” Chijioke asked, worried.
“I will come back soon, my son. Just do as I say,” Amara said, touching his cheek.
The children nodded, and Amara covered Nene the mermaid with a large wrapper, tying it around her to hide her fishtail. She opened the door gently, looked left and right to make sure no one was watching, and then carried Nene on her back like a baby.
Nene was weak, but managed to wrap her hands around Amara’s neck as Amara carried her through the small bush paths toward the river.
Amara was frightened as she walked. Every sound of crickets and frogs made her heart jump. She was afraid of meeting someone on the way, but she kept moving.
Finally, they reached the river.
The moonlight shone on the water, making it look silver and beautiful.
Amara went close to the water and carefully placed Nene down by the riverbank. Nene was breathing heavily, her hands on her big belly.
“Thank you, Amara,” Nene whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks. “You saved me and my baby.”
Amara knelt beside her, tears in her own eyes.
“I pray you will be safe, Nene,” Amara said.
Nene managed a small smile and then slowly crawled into the water. As soon as the water touched her tail, it shone brightly and her strength returned.
She turned and looked at Amara one last time.
“Amara, your kindness will never be forgotten,” Nene said softly.
Then, with a soft splash, Nene swam away into the river, disappearing beneath the water.
Amara stood there for a long time, looking at the quiet river, the moon reflecting on it.
Then she turned and walked back home, her heart heavy but peaceful.
Seven days later, Amara woke up in the middle of the night because she needed to relieve herself outside. She tied her wrapper around her waist and opened the door quietly so she would not wake her children.
As she stepped outside, she suddenly stopped.
In front of her door, she saw three gold boxes shining under the moonlight.
Amara looked around quickly, but there was no one there.
She bent down and touched the boxes. They were real and heavy.
Amara was confused. She carried the boxes inside her hut and placed them in a corner.
She could not sleep that night, thinking about the boxes. Who had dropped them? Who did they belong to? Should she keep them?
She decided to wait for the owner to come and ask for them.
But days passed and no one came.
One day, Amara opened the boxes and found that they were filled with gold, coral beads, and silver coins.
Amara secretly sold some of the golden beads, and with the money she bought a bigger house in the village. She bought new clothes for her children, and they began eating good food every day.
People in the village began to notice that Amara was looking beautiful. Her children looked healthy, and she was no longer wearing old clothes.
Amara became the wea
