"Shush, Adama. Your voice is too loud. Don't disturb them". Batanu advised with hands covering her sister's mouth.
"Stop being a weirdo and take your hands off me". Adama mumbled, eyeing her sister.
"I am not weirdo Adama, those are our ancestors. You have to respect them". Batanu defended.
"Those are figurines, Batunu. They are made of wood and not our ancestors, stop speaking gibberish", chided back Adama.
Walking over to the figurines inside their grandma's room, Adama stretched her hands to touch them but her sister stopped her.
"Stay away from them" Batanu screamed, pushing her sister away.
Her scream jolted their parents from sleep and they ran over to see what made the sound.
On getting to their children, they found Adama on the floor while Batanu was in a defensive position.
"Didn't I warn you both never to go into Grandma's room?" queried their father with eyes blazing.
"It wasn't Adama's fault. I came in first and she followed suit" explained Batanu.
"And why did you think it wise to challenge my words?" Their father asked calmly.
"Grandma's voice called to me. I had a dream before we came here and she told me I am next in line. She said you know what it means but may not acknowledge it".
"Next in line to what?" Asked their mother. Facing her husband. "What's our daughter next to?" she asked again. "She is just 9 years old". She exclaimed.
"Baby, calm down," Mr. Zakau said, while he tried holding his wife.
"I am calm, honey, I am. I know you don't like talking about your mother and I respect that, but our child is involved now and I need to know what she is next in line to" Mrs. Zakau demanded.
"Can we all go to the sitting room, please? I will explain while we are seated". Mr. Zakau pleaded.
Adama stood up from the floor and walked out with her little sister, Batanu. Their mother followed suit while their Dad closed the door before joining them.
When he got to the sitting room, he met his wife and children seated together. He cleared his throat and sat on the other chair facing them.
"Grandma is a healer. It is an ancestral gift passed down from one generation to another. There are some rituals she does and the use of concoctions and herbal stuff to heal people. She had powers to resurrect someone if the person was killed unjustly and growing up in such a way wasn't fun for me."
Looking at his family, Mr. Zakau's shoulders slacked as he continued.
"I was 14 years old when my father became sick. But my Mum didn't heal him, instead, she gave him some herbs to sustain him and she buried herself in more work."
Gulping hard, he lifted his face to see his wife close to him. He hugged her and they sat together.
"I was angry and left home. I didn't understand why she didn't heal him but after some years. I got to know. She sent me a message when we had Batanu and I can't forget the words written".
"Some people can't be healed especially if they are destined to die from an ailment. It is like preventing someone from being hit by a car because you dreamt about it. Saving that person will disrupt fate and it changes the person's life and makes it worse".
"I thought about it and wondered why she sent the message then, but now I know". Staring at his family, he continued.
"She knew Batanu would have the gift, that was why she wrote." Sighing deeply. He added.
"Since Batanu has the gift and she already said she wants to be a doctor, I will teach her the little I know and see how the rest goes, but I am sure our ancestors will lead her through".
"Wait, Dad, you mean those figurines are truly our ancestors?" Adama asked with eyes open.
"Yes, they are. If anyone with the healing power dies, their soul turns into a figurine. It is our ancestral collection and our little secrets. You can't tell anybody about it" Their father explained.
"Our little secret," the children mumbled.
Walking closer to their parents, they hugged them until Adama broke the silence.
"My little sister is a superhero and I am her guardian. I can't be told otherwise, Superman must be jealous right now" Adama spoke, as everyone chuckled.
"But you know you are just 2 years older than me," Batanu whined as Adama poked her.
Before they could start chasing each other, their mother stood up and asked everyone to be in bed before she counted from 1 to 3.