The Girl and the Crocodile Chief

A Child of the River

Luyando had always been different from the other children of Namuswa.

She was quiet, thoughtful, and drawn to the river in a way no one else was. While the other girls helped in the fields or prepared meals, she would sit by the water’s edge, watching the currents shift and swirl.

*"The river is speaking,"* she once told her grandmother, Bana Chikondi.

Her grandmother’s sharp eyes darkened. She took Luyando’s hands in her own.

*"The river speaks only to those it has chosen,"* she said softly. *"But those who hear it must be careful, for the river does not call without reason."*

But Luyando was young and did not heed her grandmother’s warning.

Every evening, she returned to the river, her feet sinking into the damp earth. She listened to its whispers, traced the ripples with her fingers, and watched the dark shapes that glided just beneath the surface.

One evening, as the last rays of the sun painted the sky red, she saw something strange.

Near the water’s edge were deep footprints. But unlike a fisherman’s steps, these tracks led into the river—and did not return.

A cold shiver ran down Luyando’s spine.

And then she felt it—a presence watching her.

She turned.

Two golden eyes stared at her from the water.

She did not move. She did not breathe.

The crocodile was massive, its scales black as the river at night. But it did not lunge. It simply watched, as if weighing something deep within her.

Then, without a sound, it disappeared beneath the surface.

Luyando stood there, heart pounding, knowing she had seen something not of this world.

The Vanishing Villagers

Fear spread through Namuswa like wildfire.

People were disappearing.

It began with Chimuka, the fisherman. He had set out one morning to fish and never returned. His boat was found floating empty, his net still brimming with fish, but Chimuka was nowhere to be seen.

Days later, it was Bwalya, the weaver. She had gone to the river to rinse cloth and never came home.

And then, one by one, others vanished.

By the time the fourth person was gone, the village had stopped sleeping peacefully.

*"The Crocodile Chief is angry,"* the elders whispered. *"We have taken too much."*

A meeting was called under the great baobab tree, where the village leaders sat in council.

*"What must we do?"* the headman, Mukulubwe, asked.

Some said they must make an offering.

*"A goat, perhaps?"* one elder suggested.

*"A sacrifice,"* another voice whispered, darker than the rest.

The village fell into silence.

And then someone spoke the words that would change Luyando’s fate forever.

*"The river has already chosen."*

*"Luyando is always near the water. Perhaps she is the one it wants."*

The Chosen One

Luyando’s mother screamed when they took her.

The village men tied her wrists with vines, their faces hard but afraid.

She struggled, tears streaming down her face, but it was no use. The decision had been made.

*"We offer her to the river!"* the priest cried, burning incense at the water’s edge. *"Great spirit, accept our gift and leave our people in peace!"*

Luyando clenched her fists.

*"This is wrong,"* she wanted to scream.

And then the wind rose.

The trees shook violently. The river boiled as if something beneath it was stirring.

And then—a voice that rumbled like thunder.

*"STOP."*

The villagers gasped.

A massive shape emerged from the river, water cascading off its glistening scales.

Golden eyes burned like fire.

The Crocodile Chief had come.

A Deal with the River

The villagers dropped to their knees, trembling.

The Crocodile Chief’s deep voice rolled over them like distant thunder.

*"You have grown greedy,"* he said. *"You take and take, but do not give back. And now you seek to sacrifice an innocent to cover your own sins?"*

Mukulubwe, the headman, fell prostrate in the sand.

*"Great one, forgive us!"* he cried.

The Crocodile Chief’s golden eyes flickered toward Luyando.

*"She is not your sacrifice,"* he said. *"She is your salvation."*

Luyando’s heart pounded.

*"What do you mean?"* she whispered.

The Chief’s gaze softened.

*"Come with me, child. I will show you the truth."*

Luyando turned to her mother, who wept bitterly.

*"Go,"* she whispered.

And so, Luyando stepped into the water.

The river rose like a living thing, swallowing them whole.

The Guardian of the River

Luyando awoke in a world beneath the water.

Here, the river was alive—luminescent fish swam like stars in the current, and spirits drifted through forests of golden kelp.

The Crocodile Chief, no longer a beast, stood before her in human form—tall, dark, his golden eyes burning with wisdom.

*"You must become the river’s voice,"* he told her.

And so, she learned.

She learned how the river breathed, how it wept, how it raged.

Years passed like days.

And then, it was time to return.

Return to Namuswa

The village of Namuswa had suffered in her absence.

The river had abandoned them.

And then, one evening, Luyando emerged from the water—tall, radiant, her eyes glowing with golden light.

*"I bring a message,"* she said.

*"Respect the river, and it will bless you. Betray it, and it will take back."*

And so, she taught them.

And the river forgave.

THE END.