Akhenaten & Nefertiti
Rebecca's archaeological adventure makes an honourable mention in our Flash Fiction Challenge. A refreshingly, imaginative entry by this young writer boldly walking in Spielberg's footsteps!

After all this time, it still works,” I said to Fatima, who sat next to me in the rubble, covered head to toe in dust like I was. The gold artifact in my hand was as dusty as it was beautiful. Was it a compass? A watch? I still couldn’t tell. But if the ticking was anything to go by, it still worked.

Two miniature hands sat on the face of the curious object; one fixed, pointing upwards, or was it due north? I wasn’t entirely sure, as we’d lost our compass earlier in this expedition. The moving hand pointed to each quadrant every second or so.

“This must be it!” Fatima exclaimed, causing me to turn my gaze from the artifact to her. Tears that had been welling in my eyes finally dropped. I didn’t realize I was tearing up. I didn’t even know why. Maybe exhilaration from finally finding the famed Aten’s Gate. Maybe just plain exhaustion. Trudging through dunes under the desert sun sure takes its toll.

A pebble hit my head. Then a few more fell on us from above. This felt all too familiar. Scary. I looked up to see a crack forming overhead and the walls collapsing upon us. As a large hunk of stone came plunging down, I did the only thing I could.

I turned the hands of Aten’s Gate.

~•~

About four days ago, one of our archaeology professors called for an emergency class with us, the final years. Only ten of thirty of us showed up.

She addressed us sternly, her usual playful demeanour nowhere to be found. “Which one of you is interested in getting A’s in both Field and Ethnoarchaeology?”

Both? Who wouldn’t be?

Hands shot up immediately, mine being one of the first. I raised the two, just so she could see my willingness.

“Great. Even more, you don’t have to do the final year project, if you go on this expedition.”

Getting to have fun while acing both of those treacherous courses threatening to drop me from a first class CGPA and not having to do project? Where do I sign up?

“There’s a catch though. You must be ready to fly out tomorrow morning. Crack of dawn. It will be grueling, it will stretch you, and midway you may regret it, but once you get on that plane, there’s no turning back. We stop only to refuel. Three days tops.”

Plane? Fatima, my best friend in the department since first year was standing beside me and glanced at me. There’s no way we’d be able to afford any flight– not even a flight from Ibadan to Lagos. We that were currently running our feeding schedule on 1-0-1? Doing the project would be cheaper anyway, or so I thought.

I stood there in the lab next to one of the many shelves that displayed intriguing findings and antiques, watching as a couple of my course mates left. It sure sounded out of reach, almost like she gathered us to mock or tease us, even. Maybe she meant it as a sarcastic way to urge us to go read or take our projects seriously.

“This woman call us here dey whine us sha,” I heard someone mumble as they walked out.

For some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to move. Whether it was due to the fact that I had just wasted my last two hundred naira on keke for a completely useless meeting–okay, not completely useless, since I got to see Akin, my department crush– or the fact that she seemed fairly serious about whatever it is she was proposing.

Fatima dragged a nearby stool close and sat. I followed suit. It didn’t make sense to be standing when we still had a long trek back to Awo Hall. Akin was leaning against one of the side benches, arms folded across his chest. A pretty picture.

“…Egypt, and air travel will be covered. We need to scour a very specific part of the Royal Tomb of Akhnaten. I have the coordinates already. I just need eyes and hands on the ground.”


Fatima grabbed my thigh. “Air travel will be covered, ke?” She whispered excitedly. “Is this how I’ll jand for the first time?”

Prof continued, ignoring our excited chatter. “And did I mention, $1000 for the person who finds the Aten’s Gate.”

“The people that said archaeology is a stupid course definitely didn’t know jack!” I squealed back to her.

At the time of this announcement we were only six in the group. To think that I only waited to catch my breath…

“The plan is simple. We search the tomb, sorry, aid in restoration and dating of certain parts of the tomb, but the most important mission, is finding this.”

She pressed a button on the remote in her hand and the screen behind her came on. There’s an image of a gold compass of sorts. Or was it a clock? I couldn’t quite tell. A pretty dainty thing.


“This. We must get it back. It’s very important. Everything hinges on getting this back. A lot of money is going into this project and it must not be a waste. Also, you’re not to discuss this with your course mates that aren’t here. It’s a field trip. Nothing more should be said. I have NDAs prepared. You’ll sign them.”

Wow. A project so hush-hush we need NDAs for them?

“Lara, come hand them out,” Prof. Adeosun called. It took me some seconds to register that it was me she was referring to. Fatima had to tap me, even. The rep was standing there, why call me?

I made my way to the open briefcase she featured and pulled out the neat stack of sheets. There were other papers in there, and a writing caught my eye. There were half-folded sheets that looked very similar to the unfilled documents I was holding. They had markings on them, like they’d been filled. I could have sworn that one peeking out had my handwriting on there. If I could just pull it out and–

“Lara, please pass them out now,” Prof. Adeosun said and I responded promptly.

The seven of us, Prof inclusive, left the university that night in an 18-seater bus that took us to a makeshift helipad.

Fatima frowned on seeing the helicopter. “I thought she said plane?”

“Either way a win is a win,” I responded, choosing to focus on the positives.

I was asleep during the copter’s refueling, and they’d handed Fatima my plate of jollof and chicken.

“Lara, wake up, you need to eat something.”

I somehow knew she was going to say that, but I didn’t say anything.

“Thank you,” I replied instead and proceeded to dig in. I looked at the row of seats opposite ours and saw Akin chewing on some bones. Ew.

“What? Have you –”

“…Never seen a man eat before? Yeah whatever.”

He looked shocked that I took the words out of his mouth. To be honest, I don’t know why or how I did that. I just knew that was what he was going to say.

Soon enough, the Airbus landed in a barren-looking valley. Nothing but sand all around, punctuated by what looked like ruins. The scene looked like it was snatched out of a Manual of Egyptian Archaeology.

We stood, mouth agape, like our course mates, utterly stunned at the reality of being on one of the oldest Egyptian archaeology sites.

It was surreal. It was magical. It was unnervingly familiar.

As Prof handed out tools and repeated instructions on how and where to search, I barely paid attention. Somehow, somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew exactly where I was supposed to go.

~•~

Everyone chose to go in the opposite direction my mind was pulling me towards. It didn’t make sense, but to me it did.

“Lara, why not let us go with the group first, instead of splitting up from the get-go?” I looked at Fatima. She clearly didn’t understand what was at stake.

“No, Fatima. Trust me on this. Have I ever led you astray before?”

She rolled her eyes. “Except that one time when you made us take the wrong turning at Mokola.”

I laughed and started heading towards the East. If I hurried down, I’d make it in time. In time, before…

A loud crash cut my thoughts short. I saw that in the distance, where my mates once stood, now lay a pile of rubble. My vision blurred with tears as I turned tail and ran towards the ruins of the inner chapel. If I could just lay my hands on the Aten’s Gate, I could turn back the hands of time.

To four days before all of this.


GLOSSARY
Dey (Nigerian Pidgin English): is.
Whine (Nigerian Pidgin English): pulling legs/ teasing.
Shá (Yoruba): discourse particle.
Kẹ̀kẹ́ (Yoruba): Tricycle or bicycle.
Kẹ̀ (Yoruba): questioning sentence-final particle.

Rebecca Ogunnaike
Rebecca Ogunnaike

Rebecca Oreoluwa Ogunnaike is a fourth-year medical student at the University of Ibadan, Nigeria, where she serves as a serial volunteer and student leader. In addition to her medical studies and community involvement, Rebecca is a gifted writer and a creative force, excelling in various forms of creative expression; from poetry and songs to fiction and articles. She began writing at ten and has gone on to win several local writing competitions. Building worlds from words is her favourite pastime when she’s not on ward rounds or with her nose in a book,

Rebecca was aTeambooktu longlisterin our 2024 Kene Offor-Teambooktu Poetry Challenge and a member of our Honourable Mentions list for the 2025 Kene Offor-Teambooktu Flash Fiction Challenge.

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