It is 1756 in the small African village of Esaka in what will later become Nigeria.

11 year old Oluda Aquiano is sitting alone in one of his favorite places high up in a tree overlooking his family home.

He looks down at the crudely plastered buildings, their low roofs thatched with reeds.

The whole estate is surrounded by a wall formed from dried earth, baked hard in the fierce sun.

Chickens peck around, getting under the feet of the goats,

and somewhere in the distance there's the sound of the younger children play.

But most of all,

Aluda delights and listening to the voice of his mother, singing,

as she hangs out the blue calico clothes, she's just finished dying.

He watches as she enters a building and then returns now with a hoe slung over one shoulder and carrying a large wicker basket.

She calls out his name, but he stays quiet, one hand clamped over his mouth.

His mother, though, isn't fooled. She comes directly to the base of the tree and commands him to come down.

At first he objects, giving her the excuse that he's doing a very important job up here. Doesn't she remember how he recently spotted that stranger who entered their neighbor's yard?

What might have happened if he hadn't warned her? stranger who entered their neighbor's yard.

What might have happened if he hadn't warned her?

His mother laughs and tells him she has an equally important job for him.

She's going out to the fields and needs him to look after his sister.

Reluctantly he climbs down and goes into the largest hut.

The ground is covered in brightly colored mats. On one of the beds, a wooden platform

and strewn with skins and plantain leaves, his sister sits cross-legged, playing with her straw dolls.

She seems contempt, so Aluda leaves her to it, grabbing one of the javelins propped up against

the wall as he goes. Outside he practices launching the javelin at the tree. He hits

...