
Bayajidda
As a child, despite an earful of warning, I’d be found with my arms splayed out into the mouth of the well, my heart pounding on the ledge, part thrill, part fear; lost in the dank, dark drop, the scattering of moss running down into the ancient secrets of its unfathomable depth, and the rippling slice of sky after the crash of the bucket. The air would ring with the wail of mosquitoes and the chirp of crickets, an absurd duet. It is this lightness of being flushed with the blood of the moment that Bayajidda must have felt when, with one great heave, he struck the serpent’s head clean off of its neck as it reared up, in faraway Daura. Bio: Ridwan Badamasi writes from the ancient city of Kano in northern Nigeria. He is a Biochemistry undergrad in Bayero University. His works have appeared in Praxis Magazine, Konya Shamsrumi, Salamander Ink Mag. and elsewhere. You can find him on Instagram: @ridhwanbadamasi