A long time ago, in the ancient kingdom of Bayiké, there flowed a vast river called the Muya River. But it was no ordinary river. It was home to fascinating creatures, half human and half fish. The people of the village called them the people of the waters, and they had lived there for generations.
Every morning, children ran to the riverbank, their little feet kicking up dust. “Look, look, the mermaids are coming!” a child would cry, pointing at the water where blue scales sparkled beneath the surface.
The adults also gathered to admire the peaceful sight as the people of the waters swam near the surface, sometimes greeting the humans. The fishermen carefully steered their boats around the areas where the water people swam. There was a kind of unspoken agreement. The river was shared, but peace never lasts forever.
One fateful morning, Emmea, one of Bayiké’s most respected fishermen, rose early to cast his nets. The sun had not yet risen, and mist still floated on the surface of the water. As he threw out his nets, they fell into an area where children of the water people were playing.
“Human, you are too close to our children!” shouted a merman, his voice full of warning.
“I have been fishing here for twenty years. These waters belong to everyone,” replied Teméka as he pulled on his net.
“Not where our children are swimming!” growled the merman, his face darkening.
