Akata Witch by Nnedi Okorafor

eyes.
    “What has the Supreme Being endowed you with, eh?” he said. “They say your kind has one foot set in the physical world and one foot in the wilderness—that’s what we call the spirit world. Do you believe you have that ‘here and there’ quality?”
    “No,” she said.
    “Believe it. To be Leopard and albino is often a rare gift,” he said. “Can any of you guess what she can do?”
    “That’s easy,” Chichi said. “She can make herself invisible.”
    “And why is that?”
    “Because she has the natural ability to go into the wilderness whenever she wants. That’s what makes her invisible.”
    “She can mess with time, too,” Sasha added. “For the same reason. Time doesn’t exist in the wilderness.”
    “Right, but that is a more difficult skill to harness. Sunny, all these things experienced Leopard sorcerers can do. But they will need their juju knives, powders, and other items to do it. You can do these things without any of that, once you learn how.”
    “Don’t forget the premonitions,” Chichi added. “That’s what happened with the candle, right, Oga ?”
    “Right,” Anatov said. “Because you can go into the wilderness, you are susceptible to wilderlings showing you things for whatever reason.”
    “Wilderlings?” she said. Her mouth went dry.
    “Creatures, beasts, and beings from the wilderness,” Anatov said.
    “So, because I’m a Leopard albino, I can—”
    “Yes. Certain attributes tend to yield certain talents. Very, very tall people tend to have the ability to predict the future through the stars. Very, very short people tend to make plants grow. Those with bad skin usually know and understand the weather. Abilities are things people are able to do without the use of a juju knife, powders, or other ingredients like the head of an ebett . They just come naturally.
    “That’s enough for now,” Anatov said. “Orlu, Chichi, last lesson I had you go out to the street folk and talk to them. I wanted you to see them, to understand how it is they live. I had you go out with sacks of food. So?”
    “We went out and helped,” Orlu said. He looked at Sasha as he said it. “But two men tried to rob us. Chichi blew lockup powder on them. We left them on the side of the street groaning with cramped muscles. We were lucky they only had knives.”
    “Knives?” Sunny cried.
    “But most of the people we met, they were either homeless or just too sad to go home or were trying to find home. They were happy to see us,” Orlu said. “Well, maybe they were happy to see the food we brought them.”
    “They thought we were angels,” Chichi said.
    “And did you sit and talk with them?” Anatov asked.
    Orlu and Chichi nodded.
    “What did you learn?”
    “That all those people . . . they have stories and lives and dreams,” Orlu said.
    “And that sometimes right is wrong and wrong is right,” Chichi added.
    Anatov nodded, looking pleased. “Sasha, from what I understand, the scholar you worked with in the United States, José Santos, sent you and his other students backpacking from San Francisco to some small town deep into Mexico?”
    Sasha nodded. “For two months. I perfected my Spanish. We were robbed three times at gunpoint. . . .” He laughed. “It was great.”
    “I met José once, years ago. I admire him,” Anatov said. “Now, you two—you four—are my students. My job is to guide you.” He looked mainly at Sunny as he said this. “You will learn about yourselves from me, you’ll learn new and old juju, and I will help you, if I can, to pass your levels. And I’ll send you out there into the world to catch your lessons. Fear? Get used to it. There will be danger; some of you may not live to complete your lessons. It’s a risk you take. This world is bigger than you and it will go on, regardless.”
    What kind of thing is that to tell your students? Sunny wondered.
    “Today’s lesson is camaraderie,” Anatov continued. “I want you to go and