When the Oyo Empire finally marched, the air grew heavy with the scent of impending storm. The Agojie did not wait. Under the cover of a moonless night, they moved like shadows through the tall grass. When the clash came, it was a symphony of iron and screams. Nawi found herself face-to-face with a veteran soldier twice her size. For a moment, fear paralyzed her, but then she heard Nanisca’s battle cry—a sound that seemed to pull the very soul back into her body. Nawi didn't fight like a soldier; she fought like a storm.
"In this place, you are not a daughter, a wife, or a slave," Nanisca said, her voice like grinding stone. "You are a blade." When the Oyo Empire finally marched, the air
They were the shield of the kingdom. They were the mothers of the future. They were the Agojie, and as long as they breathed, Dahomey would never fall. When the clash came, it was a symphony of iron and screams