BOOK ONE: ETA OBA – DAUGHTERS OF OKESERI

CHAPTER 1 – The Triple Dilemma

In the perfect little African kingdom of Emure, nestled on Okeseri hill beside the thundering waterfall Omi Aro, lived three beautiful girls named Tade, Tode and Tide. They were identical triplets who lived with their father, Jide. Jide had lost his wife, Detola, in childbirth, but he was endlessly grateful for his three girls, who were the light of his life.

The girls laughed often as they went with their father weekly to their cocoa farm. Most people could not tell them apart, but Jide knew each one of them intimately. When they were younger, they would try to prank him, hoping he would mix up their identities like everyone else, but it never worked. “Eta Oba (Royal three)” – Jide’s nickname for them – were best of friends.

Each one had a distinct role within their happy trio. Tade was the philosopher who spent too much time in her own head, often staring at the clouds. Tode was the fixer, quick with solutions, always carrying small tools and remedies in her pockets. And Tide was the protector of her sisters, her muscles strong from years of defending them. Not even the ‘Omo Adugbo’, the neighborhood bullies, bothered them anymore after the day Tide fought off two of them, beat them down, and stuffed their mouths with a handful of sand each.

One morning, a few weeks before their 16th birthday, Tade sat cross-legged on their sleeping mat, braiding palm fronds. “We are only two years away from the Akowusi ceremony,” she said, her mind wandering. “But what does it truly mean to become a woman?”

Every nine years, Emure held the Akowusi farewell ceremony, a coming-of-age celebration for girls aged 18 and above. During the ceremony, they would perform the maiden dance with symbols of their chosen professions, announcing their entry into the workforce.

Tode looked up from a small wooden box she was organizing. “What professions should we choose? What kind of women would we be? Father does many things for us, but… I don’t think he can teach us how to be women. How shall we prepare for adulthood?”

“Shhh…” said Tide, glancing toward the door. “Father won’t like to hear that. It might make him miss O-ma more.”

“I want to be a warrior when I grow up,” said Tide, flexing her arm. “Tode, you want to be a healer, and Tade, you have always wanted to be a leader, but can girls be those things in Emure?”

“Don’t know,” sighed all three girls at once.

“Threes!” they all shouted, dissolving into a fit of giggles. Whenever they said the same thing at the same time, they shouted “Threes!”

Tode set down her herb box with decisive precision. “We need a plan to prepare for what kind of women we should be.”

Tade replied: “And we only have two years to decide.”

“Why don’t we ask Eledua when we go to the Waterfall next week? He will know what we should do.” All three girls nodded. Eledua was the all-knowing God, and He always had an answer.

CHAPTER 2 – A Plan Unfolds: Inquiring from Eledua

The girls prepared a bundle of yams and vegetables to take to Omi-Aro on Bathinday, the first day of Emure’s five-day week. The other days were: Roaminday, Selinday, Kinday, and Farminday.

On Bathinday, everyone went to the Waterfall for worship, laundry, and communion with Eledua. On Roaminday, people traveled by foot, teleportation, or on the electric trains and buses that ran twice a week. The town square bustled with traders selling fried yams with akara, boiled eggs, and zobo juice, all served in biodegradable leaf packs and eaten with the right hand—a sign of good manners.

Selinday was market day, and the girls loved the trivia market most, bartering for fabrics, jewelry, and magical things. On Kinday, the community performed acts of kindness for one another, building houses and cooking meals for those in need. Farminday was the national work day, where everyone farmed cash crops like cocoa and yams, which could be exchanged for coins at the Coin Exchange for travel outside the kingdom.

On Bathinday, Tade, Tode, and Tide were joined at cockcrow by their friend Ima. The four girls walked in contemplative silence to the Waterfall. As they descended into the clearing, they were met by the thunderous sound of Omi Aro and the sight of people speaking only in whispers.

The girls stood patiently in line, feeling the cool spray on their faces. They watched worshippers leave with empty baskets, their offerings accepted by a mysterious fire that left golden dust on the altar.

Finally, it was their turn. While Ima went to the laundry area, the triplets turned into the holy-of-holies. They entered the sacred chamber and were amazed to see the sky with the sun shining down in a luminous light, so bright they had to shut their eyes.

The High Priest ushered them forward. They knelt and bowed their heads.

Tade prayed on their behalf: “Great God, we thank You for watching over us. It is almost time for the coming-of-age ceremony. We need your guidance to learn the things that our mother is not here to teach us. Please show us the path to becoming the women we are meant to be.”

They sat on woven mats, waiting. Suddenly, all three looked up, eyes wide with recognition, and said in unison, “The Library at Timbuktu!”

The High Priest cast them a gentle, scolding look. The girls quietened down, hearts racing.

“We must go right away!” Tode whispered.

“We must let Father know first,” said Tade.

“First thing tomorrow then,” whispered Tide.

“No,” answered Tode. “We leave next Roaminday.”

They handed their gifts to the priest. A flame fell from the sky and consumed their offerings, leaving golden dust. Excited, they left with their empty baskets, joined Ima for a swim, and floated out of the Waterfall on clouds of excitement.

CHAPTER 3 – Leaving Home for the First Time

On the following Roaminday, the girls were surprised to find Jide up before them.

‘E kaaro, Baami’, they chorused, curtseying and hugging him. As they made breakfast, Jide re-told the story of their birth, as he always did on their birthday.

“This birthday, he told them: “Your mother always knew you would be great women. She wanted three identical daughters and here you are! Happy 16th birthday, Eta Oba, my Three Princesses.”

“Mother was very wise,” mused Tade.

“And as beautiful as Moremi,” chorused the girls with Jide.

“Now go and get ready for your adventure,” Jide urged them.

They hurried to their room. “E ti tete se tan ni’yen?” Jide joked. His girly-girls were ready in record time.

He handed each a heavy leather backpack with her name embroidered on it. A lovely aroma wafted out.

“What’s in it, Father?” Tode asked.

“It’s a surprise. I always knew this day would come. It contains everything you need.”

At the Square, Jide purchased tickets and gold coins for their journey. As they boarded the electric train, he wrapped his arms around them. “Don’t be sad, Father,” Tide said, hugging him tightly.

“Never, Eta Oba. Edumare sent you on a journey. I know He is with you.” Taking their faces in his hands, he blessed them. “May Eledumare bless you, keep you and prosper your journey…”

They settled into their private carriage. As the train pulled away, they waved until they could no longer see him. Just before the station vanished from sight, they saw Ima running to see them off.

The rhythmic motion of the train lulled them to sleep. They were awakened by Ticketier, a polite robot that scanned their tickets and retinas.

“Can we open the backpacks now?” Tode asked.

They found lunch pouches with roasted plantains, sweet potatoes, and savory fish sauce, still warm. They ate happily with tigernut milk.

“Father is the best,” Tade said, followed by a loud belch.

“Tade!”

“Better out than in.”

“We need to be real Omoluabi,” Tode chided. “Belching loudly is not ladylike.”

“There’s no one here but us,” Tade teased.

“Good thing Father paid for a private carriage,” Tide said sternly. “We need to stop doing that in private so we don’t do it in public.”

They found a game of Ayo in their packs and played for a while, their strategies reflecting their personalities.

“How much longer?” asked Tide.

“It’s an overnight journey,” replied Ticketier. “We should arrive by morning.”

They told ‘Moonlight Tales’ until the sky darkened, then slept, dreaming of the adventure to come.

CHAPTER 4 – The Library at Timbuktu

Tade was the first to see it. “We are here,” she whispered, shaking her sisters awake. It was dawn, and the ancient towers of Timbuktu rose from the desert, glowing golden in the morning light.

They freshened up in the train’s “top and tail room” and disembarked, overwhelmed by the ancient atmosphere. They opted for a camel ride up the hill to the library, enjoying the novel experience of bobbing up and down.

Soon, they were sitting in the Great Library, directed to the section titled “Great Queens of Africa.”

“Where do we start?” asked Tide.

“I think we should ask Eledua,” answered Tade.

“You are so wise,” Tode said.

They bowed their heads in prayer. After a few seconds, they looked up and chorused: “Makeda!”

“Threes!” they whispered, giggling.

“Shhhh!” The Librarian warned sternly.

They scrambled to the shelves and found the manuscript of Makeda, the Queen of Sheba. They carefully pulled out the ancient scroll from its protective case.

The moment Tade’s fingers touched it, something extraordinary happened.

“Tode,” Tade whispered, her fingers hovering above the unfurled parchment. “Are you seeing this?”

Her sister looked up from examining the scroll’s edges, her practical mind already cataloging, analyzing. “The luminescence appears organic rather than chemical. See how it pulses? Like a heartbeat.” Tode moved closer, her healer’s instincts overriding caution. “The text is moving, Tade. Actually moving.”

“The scroll is alive,” Tode breathed, her scientific mind warring with wonder.

The scroll shouldn’t be glowing.

Tade knew this with the same certainty she knew the sun rose over Okeseri Hill each morning. Ancient parchment didn’t pulse with silver light. Dead languages didn’t shimmer and rearrange themselves into readable Yoruba. And yet, here in the deepest chamber of Timbuktu’s Great Library, the scroll they’d spent the better part of an hour searching for was doing all three.

“I know.” Tade’s voice was barely audible. The words on the scroll weren’t just rearranging—they were telling a story, unfolding like a flower opens to moonlight. She’d read about Queen Makeda of Sheba in other texts, but this was different. This was alive.

The words formed and reformed:

*She who seeks wisdom shall find queens*

*She who honors the past shall know the future*

*She who walks with Eledua walks through time itself*

“That’s not Ge’ez anymore,” Tide said from behind them, her warrior’s stance relaxed but alert. Of the three, only Tide could stand perfectly still and somehow seem ready to move in any direction. “It’s speaking to us. In Yoruba.”

Tade’s heart hammered against her ribs. “Agbe,” she breathed. “Baba told us about it. The old stories—”

“—about ancestors who could walk between moments,” Tode finished, her scientific skepticism warring with wonder on her face. “I thought they were metaphors.”

“Everything is a metaphor until it isn’t.” Tade reached out, her hand trembling slightly. The scroll was warm beneath her palm, alive in a way that made her skin tingle. Images began to form in the light above the parchment—not quite holograms, not quite visions. A desert landscape. A palace of stone. A girl with eyes like midnight and determination carved into her features.

“Is that—” Tide started.

“Makeda.” Tade’s voice was certain. “When she was our age.”

The light intensified, and suddenly the chamber filled with a sound like rushing water, like wind through ancient trees, like her mother’s voice singing lullabies she’d almost forgotten. Tade felt her sisters’ hands find hers—Tode’s grip precise and steady, Tide’s strong and sure.

“Together?” Tide asked, and Tade heard the question beneath the question: *Are we really doing this? Are we ready?*

Tade thought of their father’s words at the waterfall, of Eledua’s presence in the mist, of their mother’s dream that her daughters would do extraordinary things. She thought of the journey from Emure to Timbuktu, of every step that had led them to this moment.

“Together,” she confirmed.

The light swallowed them whole.

CHAPTER 5 – Young Makeda

The sensation was like diving into Omi Aro—a moment of suspension between air and water. The library dissolved, and they found themselves standing on solid, hot sand.

Solid, hot sand beneath her feet. The shock of it—the *realness* of it—nearly buckled her knees. Tide’s warrior training kicked in automatically: assess the environment, locate threats, protect her sisters.

They stood in a courtyard carved from honey-colored stone, surrounded by columns that seemed to touch the sky. The sun blazed overhead, different from Emure’s sun—older somehow, more severe. The air tasted of frankincense and myrrh, of spices she couldn’t name, of ancient power.

“We’re not in Timbuktu anymore,” Tode said unnecessarily, her healer’s eyes already cataloging everything: the architecture, the plants in clay vessels, the distant sound of voices speaking a language that shouldn’t make sense but somehow did.

“We’re in Sheba,” Tade whispered, awe coloring her voice. “We’re actually in Sheba. Look at the stonework—it matches the descriptions exactly. Those are the columns of Aksum. This is the Palace of the Queen of the South.”

Tide wanted to marvel at the architecture, at the impossibility of what they’d just done, but movement caught her eye. A door across the courtyard had opened, and a girl emerged—no, not just a girl. Even at sixteen, there was something in the way she moved that spoke of command, of contained power waiting to be unleashed.

Makeda.

The queen-to-be wore training clothes—leather wrappings and loose linen—and carried a practice sword with the ease of someone who’d been born with weapons in hand. Her skin was the color of burnished bronze, her hair bound in intricate braids that somehow remained perfect despite the obvious intensity of her training. But it was her eyes that struck Tide most—dark and deep and carrying the weight of destinies not yet fulfilled.

Those eyes locked onto the triplets, and Makeda’s hand went to her sword in one fluid motion.

“Who are you?” The question came in Ge’ez, but Tide understood it perfectly, her mind translating automatically—another gift of Agbe, she realized. “How did you enter the private courtyard?”

Tide stepped forward instinctively, placing herself between the sword and her sisters. “We mean no harm. We’re—” She hesitated. How exactly do you explain time travel to someone from the **10th century BCE**?

“We’re travelers,” Tade said smoothly, stepping up beside Tide. “Seekers of wisdom. We’ve come from a distant land to learn from the queens of old.”

“I will be queen one day, yes. Where did you come from and why did you call me Queen?”, asked the young Makeda.

The girls looked at one another.

Tode said: “Can you give me and my sisters a minute, please?”

“My sisters and I”, corrected Makeda

“Err.. Yes, pardon us, your highness”, replied Tode as amiably as she could muster, putting her arms around her sisters’ shoulders and pulling them close together. Huddled together, Tode told her sisters: “I think we traveled back in time to when Makeda was still around our age “.

“You think?”, Tide said.

“But if she is our age, that means she is not yet queen”, grumbled Tade. “What could we ever learn from her if she hasn’t yet done the things for which we wanted to meet her?”.

“Maybe we can learn about what qualities she had when she was our age that made her great as an adult”, said Tode.

“Time’s up!” Makeda snapped. “You need to tell me right now what you are doing here, or I will feed you to my lions”

“L-lions?” asked Tode, scared out of her mind. She hated lions.

Tade spoke up: “We are Eta Oba, sisters who have traveled back in time from a distant land to tell you about your future and help you become a great Queen”. She was embellishing the truth, but Tade realized she needed some time to figure out a way to get her sisters out of harm’s way.

Makeda’s expression shifted from suspicion to curiosity, though her sword didn’t lower. “Distant indeed. Your clothes, your bearing—I’ve never seen their like. And you speak the tongue of Sheba as if you were born to it, yet your faces tell me you’re from far beyond the Red Sea.” She tilted her head, studying them with an intensity that made Tide feel simultaneously seen and assessed. “Are you warriors?”

“I am,” Tide said before she could stop herself. Something in Makeda’s presence called for honesty.

A slow smile spread across the future queen’s face. “Good. I could use warriors in the morning. My instructors say I’m too aggressive.” The smile turned sharp. “I think my instructors are fools.”

“I can totally relate,” Tide found herself grinning.

Suddenly, Makeda erupted into a sonorous laughter “I like you”. She said, pointing her sword at Tide, while she continued laughing. “You should have seen your faces when I mentioned the lions..” she continued laughing, holding on to her stomach. Her attendants also laughed as if it was their job to laugh whenever the Princess laughed.

Makeda sheathed her sword. “Come. If we’re to train together, you’ll need proper weapons. And if we’re to talk of dreams and destinies, we’ll need sweet wine and honey cakes. In Sheba, we don’t face the future on an empty stomach.”

As Makeda led the girls towards the guest quarters of the palace, Tode felt the scroll pulse safely in her satchel. She looked at her sisters—Tade bright with excitement, Tide with warrior’s satisfaction—and knew this was why they had come. Not just to learn history, but to be part of it.

Makeda handed them some clothes “So you can blend in better” and took the girls over to introduce them to her mother, Queen Ismenie.

The Queen mother looked curiously at the girls, although she welcomed them warmly. The girls were not sure how Makeda explained them to the Queen mother, who looked as if she was about to say something to them but changed her mind.

As they sat down to a dinner of fresh baked fonio flat bread and melt in your mouth lamb stew, with fresh dates, followed by sweet wine and honey cakes, the girls couldn’t believe how good the food tasted.

Showing them to their room, Makeda said: “See you bright and early, Eta Oba. We will talk in the morning”. The girls yawned as a servant girl blew out the oil lamps that lit up their room and they fell fast asleep as soon as their heads hit the camel hair pillows that smelled faintly like home, although it was nothing like home.

The adventure had truly begun.

CHAPTER 6 – Training a Queen

“Kookarookoo!” crowed the cockrell at dawn.

Always the first to get up, Tade gently shook her sisters awake, only to find another servant girl standing by the door of the room.

“Is the Queen waiting for us?” asked Tide. Tode was having a hard time getting out of bed as usual.

“Her Eminence does not come out of her rooms until sun up. However, Princess Makeda is waiting at the stables. She leaves for her combat training at dawn”.

“This is going to be amazing”, Tide said, quickly freshening up at the bowl of water held out by the servant girl.

“What’s your name and where is Ayana from last night”, asked Tade, as she helped her sleepy sister Tode get dressed.

“I am Amara. Ayana will serve you in the evening, Ma”, said the servant girl as she did a deep curtsy.

“No, no, we are not royalty. We are just like you. There’s no need to bow to us or anything like that”, said Tide, as Amara smiled shyly curtsying again.

Shortly afterwards, the girls were on horse back, each one of them galloping along behind Makeda who rode her horse like a daredevil. Each of the girls was on a horse with female riders whom Makeda introduced as Minos. Minos were an elite group of female warriors who served the Queen and the Princess.

The combat training was on a plateau in the hills and after trotting up, the horses began a steady climb until they got to top of the hill, where they disembarked. The sun was up and the mountain air was crisp and cold.

Tade, Tode and Tide sat in silence as they watched Makeda train with the Minos, expertly wielding various weapons, which Makeda used deftly.

“Wow!” said Tide, without taking her eyes off Makeda as she trained. “Tade, do you think Makeda will teach me?”

“We don’t know how long we can stay”, said Tade.

“You’re right”, said Tide sadly.

” What harm is there in asking? There’s no time like this time”, said Tode.

When Makeda took a break to have a sip of water and chew on a piece of kolanut, Tide came up close and asked.” I would never be as good as you, but I was wondering if you could teach me how to fight with the sword, Princess”

“Are you sure? You could get hurt. I have many cuts and scars to show for all these years of training”.

“How long have you been training?” asked Tide.

“Since I was three years old and Father does not believe in training with blunt weapons, even at that age”, replied Makeda. “It’s the best way, because danger doesn’t give advance notice”.

“Preparation saves lives”, replied Tide, nodding.

A few minutes later, she showed Tide some basic moves and was surprised at how quickly she mastered them.

“You’re a natural”, laughed Makeda. “You will be a Mino is no time at all”

When the training was done, Makeda jumped on her horse which she called “Nefas” (wind) and led the four Minos. **The girls were carried by the Minos on their horsebacks**. **The other Minos came up behind to ensure their safety**. The descent seemed to take no time at all and soon, they could see the palace walls in the distance.

The girls went to their room to have a bath, and tried to take an inventory of what they had learned so far about Makeda, the teenage Princess who would grow up to become the famous Queen of Sheba.

“She’s fearless”, said Tide with admiration.

“She’s adventurous”, Tode responded.

“And she eats Kola nuts”, said Tade shuddering at the memory of the taste.

“Do we know enough yet?” wondered Tode.

“I wish I could stay here,” said Tide.

At breakfast, they told Makeda they would be leaving soon.

“Your story is strange, but I believe you,” Makeda said. “You have been some distraction from these tedious suitor ceremonies.”

“Suitor ceremonies?” asked Tide.

“On my 18th birthday, I must choose a husband. Suitors must pass a three-step test: beat the Minos in combat, beat me, and kill a lion.”

“No suitor has gotten past the Minos,” Makeda said mischievously. “The lions are in no danger.”

“I tried to tell Father I’ve seen my future husband in my dreams. A great and wise king from a foreign land. I must go to him.”

“Where is his kingdom?” asked Tode, fascinated.

“I am studying with traveling wisemen to locate it. When the time comes, I will know.”

She snapped out of her sombre mood. “Enough heavy talk. Tide, you want to learn poison arrows? We begin at sundown.”

Later, in their room, Tade said, “It is time.”

“Shouldn’t we say goodbye?” asked Tide.

“It is time,” Tade repeated.

They changed into their own clothes, stood against the wall holding hands, and chorused: “To the Timbuktu Library!”

They closed their eyes. Seconds later, they were back in the Library, the manuscript of Makeda in their hands.

The Librarian walked in. “You were not here a minute ago. Where were you hiding? Come back tomorrow. It’s time to go.” He shooed them out into the cool evening breeze.

“We were only gone a few hours?” said Tode quizzically.

“Who would believe us?” wondered Tade.

But they knew. They had walked with a queen, and they were forever changed.

THE END… FOR NOW.

#EtaOba #Afrofuturism #AfricanFantasy #TimeTravelAdventure #QueenOfSheba #Sisterhood #YABooks #Afrocentric

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