Madam Ngoni headed toward my wardrobe and pressed her left thumb against a small, nearly invisible panel beside it. A green light scanned her thumbprint, and a compartment slid open, revealing a disc-like device. She picked it up and replaced it with another similar device.
I watched intently, my curiosity piqued. I had no idea what the device was for, but I couldn’t ask directly without raising suspicions. After all, Zahara had grown up in this world—she should know these things.
“Aunt Ngoni,” I began, approaching her with a polite smile, “now that I won’t be going to school for a while, are there any activities you’d suggest I do in my free time?”
She paused, her sharp eyes widening slightly in surprise. “Madam Zahara, you’ve never used that form of address before,” she said, her tone curious but not unkind.
My heart skipped a beat. Had I already slipped up?
But Ngoni’s expression softened. “But it’s alright. I don’t dislike you calling me that. After all, I’ve raised you since you were a child.”
Relief washed over me. From her words, I gathered that Ngoni had been part of the Nia household for a long time. This was exactly the kind of insight I needed—someone who knew Zahara’s life intimately.
“It’s alright,” I said, smiling warmly. “To me, you’re family. Please drop the honorifics—call me Zahara from now on.”
Ngoni’s eyes softened further, and she nodded. “Alright, Zahara. As for activities, you normally spend weekends with your cousin, Amani. You’re not really one for outings, but perhaps you could try making more friends. Other girls your age enjoy taking pictures and uploading videos on the Hue Network.”
“I’ll take your advice, Auntie,” I replied, filing away the name Amani and the Hue Network for later research.
“Good. Did you have breakfast yet? I’ll personally make you your favorite—matooke and groundnut paste,” Ngoni offered.
Her words caught me off guard. Matooke—a dish made from steamed green bananas—was a staple in Uganda. The fact that Ngoni referred to it by its Ugandan name confirmed my suspicions: Region D was undoubtedly East Africa.
“Is it alright?” Ngoni asked, her probing eyes searching my face.
“Ah, yes! I love it. Thank you. Let me help you,” I said quickly, trying to mask my surprise.
Ngoni chuckled. “No need. Ever since you were a child, you’ve never stepped foot in the kitchen. You wouldn’t know what you’re doing. Besides, the food made by the service machine lacks a personal touch.”
With that, she left the room, the disc device in hand. I picked up the Terminal and followed her, determined to learn more about this world—and Zahara’s place in it.
As Ngoni busied herself in the kitchen, I sat nearby, my attention divided between her and the Terminal. She spoke to someone through a wireless earpiece, her voice low and efficient.
“Alright, come in ten minutes,” she said, ending the call.
She opened the fridge, pulling out peeled green bananas and placing them in a clean pan. Watching her prepare the meal was like stepping back in time. The process was exactly as I remembered from my past life—washing the bananas, steaming them, and preparing the groundnut paste. It was comforting, yet surreal.
A few minutes later, the doorbell rang. Before I could react, a group of six neatly dressed girls entered, each holding a portable bag. Their attire was striking—a fabric that resembled refined leather but had a subtle shimmer.
“Good morning, Madam,” they greeted in unison.
“Good morning. Please, call me Zahara,” I replied with a small smile.
“They’re here to clean and maintain the house,” Ngoni explained from the kitchen. “Take the UnitDisc and see to the areas that need attention. I don’t need to supervise you.”
The girls nodded, and the one at the front stepped forward to take the disc device—now identified as a UnitDisc. They dispersed in different directions, their movements efficient and practiced.
“The food is almost ready. Go have a seat at the dining table,” Ngoni instructed.
I complied, settling into a chair at the elegant dining table. My attention returned to the Terminal, and I began searching for information about the different regions of Aetheris.
The screen lit up with a holographic map of Region D. My breath caught as I recognized the familiar contours of East Africa. The Nile River snaked through the landscape, its waters glinting under the simulated sunlight. But what truly stunned me was the massive body of water that dominated the southern part of the region—Lake Nalu, as it was now called.
The name was new, but there was no mistaking it: this was Lake Victoria, the largest lake in Africa. The holographic view zoomed in, revealing its pristine waters and lush surroundings. Wildlife thrived here—elephants, giraffes, etc. It was as if time had stood still for the animals, their habitats preserved and protected.
The map expanded, showing the merged territories of what were once Kenya, Tanzania, Rwanda, Uganda, Ethiopia, and parts of Central Africa. The borders were gone, replaced by a unified region where travel documents were no longer needed. Instead, facial recognition technology allowed seamless movement between areas.
Central Africa’s unique attributes were also highlighted—dense rainforests, vibrant cultures, and rich biodiversity. The Congo Basin, now a protected reserve, was teeming with life. It was a breathtaking sight, a testament to the Federation’s efforts to preserve the natural world.
As I marveled at the map, Ngoni approached with a steaming plate of matooke and groundnut paste. The aroma was intoxicating, and my stomach growled in anticipation.
“Here you go,” she said, placing the plate in front of me.
“Thank you, Auntie. Won’t you join me?” I asked, hoping to keep her close.
Ngoni shook her head. “I’m afraid not. I have to supervise the workers. But enjoy your meal.”
She left, and I turned my attention to the food. It had been so long since I’d had a proper meal, and the sight of the steaming matooke brought a wave of nostalgia. I took a bite, savoring the familiar flavors. It was perfect—soft, savory, and comforting.
As I ate, my mind wandered back to the map. Region D was undeniably East Africa, but so much had changed. The Federation seemed to have erased the past in this place, but the echoes of my former world were still there, hidden beneath the surface.
ns18.119.255.198da2
