There’s a hill standing against my path
This lonely morning, part of the cold forest
Birds sing in trees, when sunrise in the mist
Green and brown grasses escort my twisting path
There’s a hill standing against my path
This lonely morning, part of the cold forest
Birds sing in trees, when sunrise in the mist
Green and brown grasses escort my twisting path
Happiness is a state of emotion of being joyful. Real happiness comes from the inside. It is a function of love, peace, contentment and gratitude.
The breath we have is enough reason to keep us happy!
Don’t forget that happiness is free. So stay happy for the simple things you see.
I never knew today was Ekpo (masquerade) day in Umukwu, Ovim. I was having a little nap when the noisy drummers arrived with the masquerades.
When I was growing up I witnessed many masquerade carnivals and took particular interest in Ebulu–ogu – the biggest and stout masquerade. They are known to be merciless and stubborn. This is evident in their imposing looks. A masquerade’s size may signify that the wearer is either huge or small and could be strong or weak physically and spiritually, as the case may be. Masquerades have different nicknames and come in different shapes, colors and attires. They normally move in groups and it is rumored that lonely masquerades are most dangerous and are always on a revenge mission. So here’s a tip: if you ever come across a lonely masquerade, run away!
Masquerades gather in each village square with their drummers to dance and entertain people. Afterwards they are offered gifts, food and drinks. They usually don’t speak and are armed with sticks and machetes.
In Igbo land, masquerades are perceived as messengers of spirits. It is believed that masquerades possess supernatural powers and when a man dress as one, becomes controlled by spirits.
Tip 2: It is taboo to unmask or beat a masquerade. It is a serious offense and may have grave consequences!
I remember how these masquerades turned me into a sprinter. They hit people with their sticks. Each time I encounter them, I had to outrun them or get beaten!
I will be back with poetry. See ya.
I met a fluffy looking insect
In the cold early morning
Resting by the door step
Looking comely and pretty
And I said “What a beauty!”
He looked rude and saucy
For he twisted to a corner
When I spoke to him
Kept mute and ignored
Then I knew he was also proud
Sunrise, lizards and birds watch
Predators seeking for a quick meal
I knew pride may come before a fall
And when I came to warn him
I saw a circus of ants and he among them
This morning I and Jindu traveled back to our village. Thanks to the holidays we have enough time to explore and enjoy the quiet countryside.
We took the 6.30AM bus and arrived 10.23AM. It wouldn’t take that long but for bad roads and many checkpoints. It is common for Governments to abandon capital projects here.
Now it is a cold evening and I may write a poem before retiring. Have a good night everyone.
Celebrate with love and gift hope to all that may need it. 🌲❤
As we progress to the year’s end, remember to enjoy the people God has put in your life. Drop all forms of disagreements and grudges, be humble to serve others, let things you can’t control be and try to help people. Forgive and see things from different angles. Never forget to spend quality time with your family.
Call someone, send love notes, text messages and gifts to people. Don’t worry if the love you give is not reciprocated. But be happy and contented. Someone appreciates you.
As we reflect on the significance of Christ’s birth, remember to take care of yourself too and to have adequate rest for the coming year.
Let’s have a merry 2019 Christmas Eve! Love ❤😊🌲
*image from American University of Beirut
“Tonight the stars will guide us to the baby
Take your cloaks, it will be a long journey”
One magi summoned his excited companions
It was dark but they prepare their camel train
Cold airs spread the late evening mist
As they marched through sand and dust
Winds soared, it was darker up the clouds
Sometimes they rode, at times they walked
And when they grew weary and faint
They let themselves and camels rest
Taking their water cans to drink from it,
Greeting shepherds traveling East
Three they were, with starry happiness
As their guide and strange compass
“Ah! What beauty are those glittering stars,
Can you see, one outshines the others!”
Quickly they rose to continue with their quest
Stars glitter as they journey through the desert…
Love is when you stare into my eyes
To smile when we got no reason to
It gives me pleasure to love you, masoyina*
And I cherish that I do every sunset
Masoyina*: Hausa language for my love.
Harmattans graceful blankets slowly descend,
Blowing dry brown dust upon our hamlet,
On misty mornings and smoky evenings
Sunlight rays peep through leaves
Playful squirrels own the branches
Mushrooms sit amused when nuts fall
A tree is straightened while it is still young.
Proverb from Burundi
Here is an image of two beautiful African girls. In Africa life is simple. This two girls posed for a picture, one smiling and the other hands on her head. What do you make of this image?
There’s twinkling stars across the dark night,
Tiny, shiny dots adorning the wide firmament
Then sang the Whistling pines a song, so sweet
That the Woodpecker with his beak started a beat
And all became amazed, even the Nightingale family
Now up the dark skies three bold stars shine gracefully
The shepherd was about to tell his daughters a tale
“Freda, Brenda, look” and upon his weary face a smile
“Do you know why they shone more than the others?”
“Because they are to guide the Magi to the Master?”
“Ah! Exactly!” The shepherd answered, nodding
And he went on to tell of the Galilean
That once graced and blessed this earth
It was that time of the year to celebrate His birth
The night was cold, wool blankets warm
But all slept well dreaming of Bethlehem
When I was growing up I was fascinated each time we traveled to the countryside. It was fun as I could query the roads with my eyes and count palm trees as we went.
Welcome to Akara, the biggest town in Isuikwuato. The name may sound familiar to Nigerians as it shares same pronunciation with the local name for bean cakes.
Akara junction is a melting pot for travelers. People traveling to places like Uturu, Ovim, Abiriba, Ohafia, Igbere, Arochukwu, Bende and other parts of Abia pass through this route. Many people from all parts of Nigeria live and do business here. The junction is known for her egusi biscuits (tasty melon seeds, crushed and smoked with pepper, oil, and other ingredients). Yummy!
It is also known for its bush meat and palm wine restaurants. Sometimes hunters display Nchi (Grasscutter) and Ele (Antelope) for sale. The surrounding bush and forests makes hunting a lucrative business. I am not a fan of hunting. I think the government should protect the forests or regulate hunting and logging businesses. It is common to see all kinds of exotic wild animals trapped, killed and sold as meat or raw materials. Also, large expanses of forest land is cleared annually for settlements and farmlands.
There are super markets and hotels to serve travelers. Hospitals and small factories are also sited in the vicinity. There’s a bank and a thriving market. One thing you must know about Isuikwuato people is: they are friendly and welcoming.
The first image was taken last week, on my way back to Aba. Reflecting on the nostalgia traveling brought, I still feel like an excited kid each time I pass through this junction.
Have a great holiday everyone.
Let’s dance in the rain
Throw our worries to the wind
Raise your hands
And dodge my water blow,
Gather the rain water
Return my punch
Let this flow turn to dance
When clouds gather
That’s a great sign-
It must be the rain!
Or the comely evening
But let’s wait,
If it’s the rain’s herald
Will you dance with me?
Now the wind has come
First drop and another,
A little storm and showers
Yet, I’m King of the rain fight
And I’ll make you my Queen
If you would dance with me
A shepherd had a faithful dog, called Sultan, who was grown very old, and had lost all his teeth. And one day when the shepherd and his wife were standing together before the house the shepherd said, “I will shoot old Sultan tomorrow morning, for he is of no use now.” But his wife said, “Pray let the poor faithful creature live; he has served us well a great many years, and we ought to give him a livelihood for the rest of his days.” “But what can we do with him?” said the shepherd, “he has not a tooth in his head, and the thieves don’t care for him at all; to be sure he has served us, but then he did it to earn his livelihood; tomorrow shall be his last day, depend upon it.”
Poor Sultan, who was lying close by them, heard all that the shepherd and his wife said to one another, and was very much frightened to think tomorrow would be his last day; so in the evening he went to his good friend the wolf, who lived in the wood, and told him all his sorrows, and how his master meant to kill him in the morning. “Make yourself easy,” said the wolf, “I will give you some good advice. Your master, you know, goes out every morning very early with his wife into the field; and they take their little child with them, and lay it down
behind the hedge in the shade while they are at work. Now do you lie down close by the child, and pretend to be watching it, and I will come out of the wood and run away with it; you must run after me as fast as you can, and I will let it drop; then you may carry it back, and they will think you have saved their child, and will be so thankful to you that they will take care of you as long as you live.” The dog liked this plan very well; and accordingly so it was managed. The wolf ran with the child a little way; the shepherd and his wife screamed out; but Sultan soon overtook him, and carried the poor little thing back to his master and mistress. Then the shepherd patted him on the head, and said, “Old Sultan has saved our child from the wolf, and therefore he shall live and be well taken care of, and have plenty to eat. Wife, go home, and give him a good dinner, and let him have my old cushion to sleep on as long as he lives.” So from this time forward Sultan had all that he could wish for.
Soon afterwards the wolf came and wished him joy, and said, “Now, my good fellow, you must tell no tales, but turn your head the other way when I want to taste one of the old shepherd’s fine fat sheep.” “No,” said Sultan; “I will be true to my master.” However, the wolf thought he was in joke, and came one night to get a dainty morsel. But Sultan had told his master what the wolf meant to do; so he laid wait for him behind the barn door, and when the wolf was busy looking out for a good fat sheep, he had a stout cudgel laid about his back, that combed his locks for him finely. Then the wolf was very angry, and called Sultan “an old rogue,” and swore he would have his revenge. So the next morning the wolf sent the boar to challenge Sultan to come into the wood to fight the matter. Now Sultan had nobody he could ask to be his second but the shepherd’s old
three-legged cat; so he took her with him, and as the poor thing limped along with some trouble, she stuck up her tail straight in the air.
The wolf and the wild boar were first on the ground; and when they espied their enemies coming, and saw the cat’s long tail standing straight in the air, they thought she was carrying a sword for Sultan to fight with; and every time she limped, they thought she was picking up a stone to throw at them; so they said they should not like this way of fighting, and the boar lay down behind a bush, and the wolf jumped up into a tree. Sultan and the cat soon came up, and looked about and wondered that no one was there. The boar, however, had not quite hidden himself, for his ears stuck out of the bush; and when he shook one of them a little, the cat, seeing something move, and thinking it was a mouse, sprang upon it, and bit and scratched it, so that the boar jumped up and grunted, and ran away, roaring out, “Look up in the tree, there sits the one who is to blame.” So they looked up, and espied the wolf sitting amongst the branches; and they called him a cowardly rascal, and would not suffer him to come down till he was heartily ashamed of himself, and had promised to be good friends again with old Sultan.
Listen and ride through nostalgia
Friendship may restore old memories
Of joyful love and companionship
This is no poetry neither is it political, but a personal note, a soliloquy and thoughts that bother me.
I perceive corruption every day and it seems people are too timid to stand against it. Most are afraid of something. And I’m aware of this something. Maybe I’m a little afraid too, but I’m uncomfortable with it. I’m just worried for my beloved country.
Believe me when I say that the best jobs are reserved for the best. Whose best? The elite and their children of course, and their generations unborn! Someone may have the skills and education but may not secure a befitting job. For those who have the audacity to think out of the box, the environment and system suppress them with no support, no capital, no hope, with nothing. What will those diploma and degrees become, a decoration for the room? Why waste so much time in acquiring an education that may not be relevant to future personal growth? Should focus be on how to use education to find or create jobs or to remain in the status quo of learning to read and write and discover theoretically what biology and finance means?
It’s funny at times that this country has much mineral, human and arable resources but show little progress. A particular African country can boast of much oil wealth but rank as one of the poorest countries in the world; with high infant mortality rates, unemployment levels and poverty rates. There’s much poverty and suffering in the midst of wealth. To be honest, governments are incompetent and can’t manage these resources efficiently. The bottom line is that corruption has laid hands on public wealth and it will be a Herculean task to cut those hands off!
Youth empowerment is the order of the day. Governments, administrators and their representatives design all sorts of youth empowerment schemes. Somewhere below the Lower Niger a leader even donated wheelbarrows as empowerment tools for the youth and some people celebrated him. Wheelbarrow to graduates, what for? Okay let’s assume some youth may find a way to make good use of these but on which good roads will they ply on? I can’t imagine.
Public property is in disarray. Roads are death trap! Electricity is in shambles and I’ve to wait for days to use them, public water facilities are not functional. Health systems is bad. Educational institutions and agencies run on outdated curriculums and practices. Salaries and pensions for public workers owed for up to 2 years but levies and tax collection enforced as defaulters are quickly arrested and prosecuted. Justice is unjustified. Wait, can you imagine that when a government official pays salaries that people praise them? Why are they the government at the first instance? Who put them there? Why should we be grateful when they do a fraction of their jobs?
A friend said that the son of the poor will only know when the Army, Navy and other Armed Forces are recruiting but won’t know when Central Banks, Development Banks and other important Government agencies are recruiting. Very true! Recruitment is shabbily done. A job for 10 people is advertised, 20000 applies for it. Then the selection committee selects their own. Unemployment continues to be the song of the day. Worse, applicants go through rigorous processes and may have suffered so much stress and financial losses. At the end they likely will not get the job! Most recruitment drives are for formality sake.
Now on a serious note, why would some public and private firms set a recruitment age for youth especially in the finance sector? They say you mustn’t be above 27 years of age at time of application. I know age limits are set to reduce the number of applicants. But I strongly think that this is discrimination. Let everyone play on a level ground. Companies should choose the best from their applicant pool even as they encourage younger people to apply. Why is it common to see engineering, medical, environmental, political, languages graduates working in financial institutions when finance, accounting, management graduates walk the streets in search of jobs? How do Africa grow when things are continually done upside down?
Sometimes I’m confused, other times I’m angry. I hope these trends don’t linger longer. I also hope that before anyone decides to take this post personal, that such person understand that any resemblances of situations, persons, places and events mentioned here may be accidental and not intentional.
Dance for me, throw your light
Upon the darkness in this box
Make these great shadows a hoax
Fire your joyful flames up
So you may read words my pen drop
Gather your heat and strength
Waltz with the wind, feel the warmth
Dance again when you lick the air
Mock me when you burn my hair
But let my cheerful words sink
As fine ale, a thirsty man may drink
Will you stare into my eyes when I say I missed you,
To see the strings that hold my heart melt before your gaze
And the fire in my soul dance for the joy of beholding you?
Will you hold these tired hands and caress it
As a skilled guitarist would with his instrument
To assure me of undying love even as age chastise us?
Joy is my love when I see your happy self look at me
Conveying words that only my gladdened heart see!
It’s grandeur how trees culture mushrooms,
Gathering all little termites to themselves
And providing their needs of shelter and food
Their branches are playground for monkeys and flies,
They shed leaves which serve as bed for worms below
Birds nest and sing from the farthest of leaves,
Squirrels hide and seek, throwing nuts at strangers
For man; they are food, shelter and warmth
Their roots are seats for weary travelers
Their fruits are snacks for playing children
And when they breath out, they give life to all
Trees are important members of our community, therefore shouldn’t be taken for granted. Trees play a vital role in our world.
A great king of a land far away in the East had a daughter who was very beautiful, but so proud, and haughty, and conceited, that none of the princes who came to ask her in marriage was good enough for her, and she only made sport of them.
Once upon a time the king held a great feast, and asked thither all her suitors; and they all sat in a row, ranged according to their rank–kings, and princes, and dukes, and earls, and counts, and barons, and knights. Then the princess came in, and as she passed by them she had something spiteful to say to every one. The first was too fat: ‘He’s as round as a tub,’ said she. The next was too tall: ‘What a maypole!’ said she. The next was too short: ‘What a dumpling!’ said she. The fourth was too pale, and she called him ‘Wallface.’ The fifth was too red, so she called him ‘Coxcomb.’ The sixth was not straight enough; so she said he was like a green stick, that had been laid to dry over a baker’s oven. And thus she had some joke to crack upon every one: but she laughed more than all at a good king who was there. ‘Look at him,’ said she; ‘his beard is like an old mop; he shall be called Grisly-beard.’ So the king got the nickname of Grisly-beard.
But the old king was very angry when he saw how his daughter behaved, and how she ill-treated all his guests; and he vowed that, willing or unwilling, she should marry the first man, be he prince or beggar, that came to the door.
Two days after there came by a travelling fiddler, who began to play under the window and beg alms; and when the king heard him, he said, ‘Let him come in.’ So they brought in a dirty-looking fellow; and when he had sung before the king and the princess, he begged a boon. Then the king said, ‘You have sung so well, that I will give you my daughter for your wife.’ The princess begged and prayed; but the king said, ‘I have sworn to give you to the first comer, and I will keep my word.’ So words and tears were of no avail; the parson was sent for, and she was married to the fiddler. When this was over the king said, ‘Now get ready to go–you must not stay here–you must travel on with your husband.’ Then the fiddler went his way, and took her with him, and they soon came to a great wood. ‘Pray,’ said she, ‘whose is this wood?’
‘It belongs to King Grisly-beard,’ answered he; ‘hadst thou taken him, all had been thine.’ ‘Ah! unlucky wretch that I am!’ sighed she; ‘would that I had married King Grisly-beard!’ Next they came to some fine meadows. ‘Whose are these beautiful green meadows?’ said she. ‘They belong to King Grisly-beard, hadst thou taken him, they had all been thine.’ ‘Ah unlucky wretch that I am!’ said she; ‘would that I had married King Grisly-beard!’
Then they came to a great city. ‘Whose is this noble city?’ said she. ‘It belongs to King Grisly-beard; hadst thou taken him, it had all been thine.’ ‘Ah! wretch that I am!’ sighed she; ‘why did I not marry King Grisly-beard?’ ‘That is no business of mine,’ said the fiddler: ‘why should you wish for another husband? Am not I good enough for you?’ At last they came to a small cottage. ‘What a paltry place!’ said she; ‘to whom does that little dirty hole belong?’ Then the fiddler said, ‘That is your and my house, where we are to live.’ ‘Where are your servants?’ cried she. ‘What do we want with servants?’ said he; ‘you must do for yourself whatever is to be done. Now make the fire, and put on water and cook my supper, for I am very tired.’
But the princess knew nothing of making fires and cooking, and the fiddler was forced to help her. When they had eaten a very scanty meal they went to bed; but the fiddler called her up very early in the morning to clean the house. Thus they lived for two days: and when they had eaten up all there was in the cottage, the man said, ‘Wife, we can’t go on thus, spending money and earning nothing. You must learn to weave baskets.’ Then he went out and cut willows, and brought them home, and she began to weave; but it made her fingers very sore. ‘I see this work won’t do,’ said he: ‘try and spin; perhaps you will do that better.’ So she sat down and tried to spin; but the threads cut her tender fingers till the blood ran. ‘See now,’ said the fiddler, ‘you are good for nothing; you can do no work: what a bargain I have got! However, I’ll try and set up a trade in pots and pans, and you shall stand in the market and sell them.’ ‘Alas!’ sighed she, ‘if any of my father’s court should pass by and see me standing in the market, how they will laugh at me!’
But her husband did not care for that, and said she must work, if she did not wish to die of hunger. At first the trade went well; for many people, seeing such a beautiful woman, went to buy her wares, and paid their money without thinking of taking away the goods. They lived on this as long as it lasted; and then her husband bought a fresh lot of ware, and she sat herself down with it in the corner of the market; but a drunken soldier soon came by, and rode his horse against her stall, and broke all her goods into a thousand pieces. Then she began to cry, and knew not what to do. ‘Ah! what will become of me?’ said she; ‘what will my husband say?’ So she ran home and told him all. ‘Who would have thought you would have been so silly,’ said he, ‘as to put an earthenware stall in the corner of the market, where everybody passes? But let us have no more crying; I see you are not fit for this sort of work, so I have been to the king’s palace, and asked if they did not want a kitchen-maid; and they say they will take you, and there you will have plenty to eat.’
Thus the princess became a kitchen-maid, and helped the cook to do all the dirtiest work; but she was allowed to carry home some of the meat that was left, and on this they lived.
She had not been there long before she heard that the king’s eldest son was passing by, going to be married; and she went to one of the windows and looked out. Everything was ready, and all the pomp and brightness of the court was there. Then she bitterly grieved for the pride and folly which had brought her so low. And the servants gave her some of the rich meats, which she put into her basket to take home.
All on a sudden, as she was going out, in came the king’s son in golden clothes; and when he saw a beautiful woman at the door, he took her by the hand, and said she should be his partner in the dance; but she trembled for fear, for she saw that it was King Grisly-beard, who was making sport of her. However, he kept fast hold, and led her in; and the cover of the basket came off, so that the meats in it fell about. Then everybody laughed and jeered at her; and she was so abashed, that she wished herself a thousand feet deep in the earth. She sprang to the door to run away; but on the steps King Grisly-beard overtook her, and brought her back and said, ‘Fear me not! I am the fiddler who has lived with you in the hut. I brought you there because I really loved you. I am also the soldier that overset your stall. I have done all this only to cure you of your silly pride, and to show you the folly of your ill-treatment of me. Now all is over: you have learnt wisdom, and it is time to hold our marriage feast.’
Then the chamberlains came and brought her the most beautiful robes; and her father and his whole court were there already, and welcomed her home on her marriage. Joy was in every face and every heart. The feast was grand; they danced and sang; all were merry; and I only wish that you and I had been of the party.
Good morning. I promised to take some shots during my morning walk. I’m not a good photographer though.There’s a thick fog this morning. These kind of buildings are common in the village. It hasn’t been long since the mud house went out of fashion. With high rate of poverty, it’s hard to afford good housing in rural areas.In Africa it’s custom to say greetings to people you meet on the way. In Ovim we say Ndewo and Iboola as greeting. If you won’t greet, people might think you’re uncultured. So this is a tip: whenever you’re in Africa make sure you say hi to people.I saw some soldier ants on their early morning drill. These little guys are notorious. I recall my experience when I was living with my late granny. Each night I had to pour insecticides around our poultry cage to keep them away. They are known to hijack food stored in the house. They even steal livestock too! I caught the sun rising. You can see the hill top on the background. As the village is located on a valley, it’s easy to capture the surrounding hills from any location. If you go closer then you can find out how big the hill is. I’m not passing through that route today. Maybe some other time. Ovim is characterized by hills and valleys. There are many trees too. Most common is the palm which grow wild and in clusters. As the dusty harmattan wind gradually appear, green shrubs dry and turn brown.By the roadside there’s a pool. In the past, I’ve seen people drink from it. Some streams, ponds and rivers in Ovim are designated ‘no fishing zone.’ Older folk believe Ovim is situated on a rock. Further up the road there is Orie market. As we can see the stalls are empty because today is not a major market day. People from all over the state buy and sell here. There are bars where people go to drink local palm wine, beer or soft drinks. They also sell pepper soup. This is the entrance to our Eze’s home. Eze is a traditional ruler in Igboland. Igbo people are republicans and believe in equal rights and privileges. Igbo customs do not regard kingship much as it’s believed that all male is king in their homes.I’m going back to town today. See you all later.
Airy evening for all tree dwelling fellows
Sparrows sing, Robins bass as crickets chirp
Two happy lovers sit listening
Hello everyone. I promised to post more about my hometown. I’m having issues uploading images, so I’ll do that once I’m back to town.
I’m back to Ovim Isuikwuato, my hometown. It has been a long week for me, marking and grading students’ math exam. Coupled with the noisy neighbourhood, the stress nearly overwhelmed me. Thank God it’s Friday.
Now far away from work and town’s hustle bustle, I can feel myself heal. The surrounding hills – notably Ugwu Uwaoma, make this village cold at night and early morning. It’s hot sometimes but with the Harmattan wind there’s an unequal balance between cold and heat. The only problem here will be sunflies. Ach, little vampires and I, a fair skinned person attract them a lot. But I have learned some ways to keep them off: wearing long sleeves (not effective for they attack the face, neck and legs too), using insect repellent creams (these makes one sweaty) and a more traditional way – smearing scent leaf juice all over myself.
One reason I love this quiet countryside is that it inspires me a lot. Blue skies, wonderful sunset and sunrise, ancient rocks, magnificent waterfalls, exotic bird watching and observing manmade roads cockroach up breathtaking hills. I even imagine myself the sole monarch of numerous anthills and the wild forest. Aha, how lucky I would be! I’m grateful for all the beauty I see. I feel attached to the streams, rivers, waterfalls, hills, forests, wildlife and happy, peaceful people. I’m thrilled by simple things. There’s a full moon out here and a host of insect choir. It’s good to be home!
BTW, this image was taken during my last visit. As I arrived late this evening, it was too dark to take pictures. I’ll try to in the morning. Have a good night everyone.
I stumbled on this and think it is worth sharing. Thank you Miracle Kelechi for the reminder that there is more to life than worries.
Soft wool, fluffy pillow, starry night
Three fellows bidding a shepherd sleep
Crickets sing from cracks in the wall
Do you know why there is no king in the animal kingdom? Here is a story narrating why. I wrote this poetale a longtime ago. Have fun.
Once upon a time
In a land far away,
Across seven rivers
And seven hills
Lived a clan of animals
They knew no strife
No envy, no rivalry
Between the animal clans
For then there was no king
No ruler, no master of any sort
But animals who lived freely,
Tilled their land as they wished
And lived as they wanted…
Suddenly some stronger animals
Felt they could bully the little ones
So many animals started trespassing
On the rights of others, taking others lands
Destroying harvest of crops
And even hijacking others wives!
So Anarchy spread
Her blanket of no good
Upon the animal clan
Until the Cricket suggested
That all animals should meet
To resolve this…
During the meeting
Every animal sat quietly,
Waiting for others to talk, first
Mumblings filled the arena
Guilt of crimes wont let anyone speak
So the mosquitoes, carefree buzzed aloud
“Wait!” the Cricket yelled
“I greet you all”, he began politely
“The way to solve this problem
Is to appoint a King who will rule us
Someone who will bring justice
And fairness to all, big and small”
“Nice idea”, his relatives called after him
“Now I am the brain of the meeting
I should be allowed to nominate
My humble self as the King of the clan!”
“What?” an angry Elephant trumpeted
“You little thing, so minute, so irrelevant!
How dare you even think of that
When someone like me is here?
I should be the King undisputed!”
“You all must be joking!” the Giraffe laughed
“How can you be the King
When you are round like a football
And can barely move a leg?”
The Giraffe made fun of the Elephant
“No no no, it just doesn’t fit you
Well, take a look at my height,
I even interact with the moon
And when angry I eat her half!
I should be the King instead!”
The whole clan went dead with silence
They thought the Elephant would retaliate
So they waited for the worst to happen
But nothing happened…
“Let me be the King”, the ape called out
“None of you is capable of tree climbing
And infact I can dance up the skies
Do you know this feeling of tree dwelling?
The skies are my playground… Can’t you see?”
“Talking about playground, you don’t belong!”
The bald Eagle whined…
“I live in mountain peaks
Where none of you can reach
Or dare to reach, I am the master-
Master of the blue clouds and wind
Make me your King!” he demanded
“Talking about flying you are not alone in it”
A feeble mosquito stood to talk
“How many of you can sing in a human ear
And make him mad so that he slaps himself?”
“No way, who speaks now?” the Lion growled
“The kingship belongs to I and the pride
The pride is strong and courageous
And can defend and take care of the clan
My roars frighten our enemies
My claws are perfect killing machines!”
“No sir”, a scared animal said
“Was it not one of your pride members
That ate an innocent sheep the other day?
We can’t let you be our King”
Someone supported from the crowd
“So what do we do right now?”
Let us then nominate from those
Who showed interest in the position”
An elderly Parrot suggested
“Please everyone should pick a candidate”
To the crowds surprise
Everyone pointed to their kith
The Giraffes to the Giraffes
The Apes to their kind
The Pride to the Lions
And so on…
And when no progress was made
Everyone nominated himself for Kingship
Since everyone wants to be King
They all left fighting and arguing
And so is the animal clan to this day
In much disagreement and confusion!
Ah. It’s December the first again. The Year’s last born month. 😊
Good morning everyone. I wish you all a great month and merry Christmas in advance! 😘