Amina’s slippers flapped against the red earth as she ran through the narrow streets of Kawo. The evening sun dipped low, it was yellowish-orange sunset. Market women were packing up their tomatoes and pepper piles, and closing their kiosks shouting last-minute prices, but their voices faded behind her, the farther she ran. She didn’t dare look back. The footsteps were still there heavy, determined, too close. She held her wrapper tight so it wouldn’t loosen. Her heart was beating like talking drum. Earlier that same morning, she’d discovered the truth, her uncle had forged her signature to sell the small piece of land her late mother left her. The land wasn’t big, but it was hers the only thing she had. When she confronted the buyer, a tall man with a scar on his face, he had simply narrowed his eyes and reached for her arm. She darted into a side street, the one that led toward the old Guava tree. Children playing ten-ten paused to watch her fly past like a startled bird. “Aunty, what happened?” one called, but she couldn’t answer. The man was trailing behind her. The footsteps grew louder. Then a shout. “Amina! Stop!” She didn’t. She continued running, she then saw three men running toward her but behind them came a familiar motorbike. Her childhood friend, Musa, jumped off before the bike even stopped, his helmet crooked. “Amina, wait!” he called, raising both hands to show he meant no harm, and then she hid behind her friends back. The scarred man slowed, panting hard. “Madam, nobody wants to hurt you. I just wanted to explain”“Explain what” Musa snapped, stepping between them. The man took a breath. “Your uncle sold me the land. When you confronted me, I realized something was wrong. I was chasing you to tell you I already called the police. I want a refund I don’t want stolen property.”The man shook his head, embarrassed. “Madam, I’m not a thief. I just wanted to sort it out.” And for the first time that day, Amina laughed a shaky, relieved. The police would handle the rest, and the land her mother’s land would be returned.