Episode 3 Script: The Picture that knew her

Episode 3: The Picture that knew her

By Grace Antiedu 

The river wasn’t in the village.

But Ama could hear it.

Each night, the sound grew louder -the gentle lapping of water against wood, the thrum of something vast and ancient stirring beneath the surface. Her feet felt damp when she woke up, her sheets cold and clinging.

She began speaking in her sleep, in a voice no one recognized. Her mother recorded her one night and played it back the next day.

Each night, the sound grew louder -the gentle lapping of water against wood, the low, hollow thrum of something vast and ancient stirring just beneath the surface.

At first, Ama thought it was the old pipes. Or her imagination.

But then came the dreams.

Dark waters spreading under moonlight. A small boat drifting on an unseen current. Something beneath, circling, waiting.

She woke each morning with damp feet. The ends of her sheets were soaked, clinging like they’d been pulled through a river. Her mother scolded her for not drying off before bed.

But Ama hadn’t gone near water.

Then, the sleep-talking continued.

Ama never talked in her sleep before, but now,  she mumbled in a low, urgent tone every night. Her mother recorded again one night, unnerved by how unlike Ama the voice sounded.

"She lives where I should lie. She breathes what I left behind. Give me back my name.”

No one recognized the voice. It wasn’t Ama’s. Her aunt, who had been visiting, stood from the table and left the house without a word, clutching her rosary.

And that night, Ama dreamt of the girl. Wet hair pasted to pale skin. Eyes wide and bloated. A name tag on her chest, water -blurred but almost legible.

And the girl whispered:“You’re in my place.”

The voice continued: “You live where I should lie. You breathe what I left behind. Give me back my name”.

The elders prepared for cleansing.

They burned the photo at the riverbank, scattering ash into the current. 

They poured libation and prayed to the ancestors, begging them to quiet the spirit of the girl lost decades ago.

Ama was already missing. She was later found by the river at dawn, standing in the water, eyes closed, mouth moving—but no sound.

When her mother called her name, two voices answered.

One from Ama’s lips. The other from beneath the water.

“You can’t keep both,” it said.“One name. One body. One soul”.

Her mother stepped into the river and pulled her out, weeping, chanting every prayer she knew.

Ama gasped, and the second voice vanished.

The end of episode 3. Coming up is episode 4. Keep watching,  subscribe,  like and share.