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Pastoral

Legend of Wawadomea: First Wave of sails

There are dreams I like to forget. These dreams came, went and when I wake I find myself still wallowing in my own reverie. These dreams gave me illusions and changed the way I perceived the pirates. After the quick fight with the cannibals of Juren, a small island off the coast of the bigger island of Shark, the Lifnante decided to have some rest on the nearest land. We had sailed for many days without the sight of land and everywhere was the sign of gloom. Some pirates drank themselves to stupor, staggering, some heading for their beds and some picking fights as usual. I could see Sundjata peer through his binoculars and my curiosity got hold of me. There was only one way to find out what this young pirate sought. I quickly ran to the Ships head, scaling the stairs, two at a time.

“Hallo” I cried.

“Well, hi!” He replied after lowering the lens to see the intruder. I shifted a bit, trying not to show my unease. He must have noticed. “Dont worry little fella, there’s no cannibal around here.” He said reassuringly. Goodness, he always read my mind. The encounter with the cannibals was bloody and I wish not to experience such again.

“So what were you staring at?” I asked stupidly, faking a smile.

“Oh!” He grunted. “A legend has it that here, just somewhere near this piece of ocean, the Snake Fish lives here and if this legend is true we might likely meet them”. He was trying to speak correctly, perhaps he did for I felt fear grow in me. I shuddered at the thought of big living monsters. What excitement does he derive knowing that a disaster was out there, waiting for the Wave? That was Sundjata, always making serious issues trivial. Then a shout of land rented the air from Crocker, the ships heralder.

“Ahoy, Ahoy! Lande! Lande!! I sighte lande!” He yelled, excitement written all over him. I saw the pirates all rush out from their hideouts, arranged in different groups whispering, talking almost at the same time. The Lifnante came out with his silver plated binoculars. At one swing of his strong hands he raised it to his face.

“Aye! That is some land, some good land. Well done boy” he said. “All to sails!” Then like a sounded bugle everybody moved to their duty posts.

Ay Cap’n, rented the quietness of the ship. Such an effort it was for the ship was directed towards this strange and lonely island, sitting on a volcanic rock. Small tug boats were lowered and some pirates paddled away. I was in a boat with Sundjata and five other pirates. From the boats we could see the island close in. Glittering sand, white beaches, and fine shiny pebbles. It seemed that no man ever set foot on the island. The hinterlands harbored a forest and from our closeness we could hear the birds cry. Behind the forest, the Volcano stood majestically, bidding us welcome, extending Greek gifts to us. My excitement gave way to uncertainty. I wasn’t sure I wanted this.

“Stay with me boy, leave not my side for any reason.” I heard Sundjata whisper. Sincerely my whole being longed for the woods and for freedom, some quietness from the noisy pirates. Glancing over to Sundjata, I could see two pistols dangle about his sides and a sword hidden in his pants. I looked up and smiled mischievously at his glare. Then the boats hit the beach sands, and all climbed off running up the sands, trying to out run the others, to reach the riches and warmth of the island before anyone else. It was a holiday from the long sea voyages and a happy one.

Night was on her way trifle shy. Anyone who ever took solace on the Night betrayed himself. Don’t mind me, I actually stole the Lifnante’s quote book. But Night cares for no one, and cold nights are cruel to those who took refuge in her arms. I heard the Lifnante give orders for camping. All about the island many camps were set for the coming evening. Some pirates stayed back on the Wave, and those were sick or older pirates and slaves who worked in the Wave. The camps sprang up in few minutes and then cooking for the night commenced. Some fish caught from the sea were cooked in coconut oil and many more were smoked on bonfires. The smell of fish cooking in coconut oil aroused my appetite. It was long since I ate properly cooked food! Some pirates played soft tunes with guitars, whistles and every musical instrument they had on them.

I got a plateful of fish and with delight I set about eating. It was then that I saw a movement in the forest. Like a flash, something moved through the woods. Again and again, I saw it. I decided to investigate, but my courage failed me. Reporting to the Lifnante and the merry pirates would spoil the calm and cool evening merriment. I saw the movement again. Now I was sure that something was out there and my mind played no games. I dropped my plate and walked up to Sundjata. He was playing cards with some pirates.

“This is pay back. Now it will cost you another Nickel,” he growled, laughing at his opponents. The pirates were all talking…

To be continued

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Kindness: The Lion and the Mouse

Here is one of the oldest and best loved stories of kindness paid and repaid. From it we learn that compassion lies within the power of both the mighty and the meek. Kindness is not a feeble virtue.

One day a great lion lay asleep in the sunshine. A little mouse ran across his paw and wakened him. The great lion was just going to eat him up when the little mouse cried, “Oh, please, let me go sir. Some day I may help you.”

The Lion laughed at the thought that the little mouse could be of any use to him. But he was good-natured lion, and he set the mouse free.

Not long after, the lion was caught in a net. He tugged and pulled with all his might, but the ropes were too strong. Then he roared loudly. The little mouse heard him and ran to the spot.

“Be still, dear Lion and I shall set you free. I will gnaw the ropes.”

With his sharp little teeth, the mouse cut the ropes and the Lion came out of the net.

“You laughed at me once,” said the mouse. “You thought I was too little to do you a good turn. But see, you owe your life to a poor little mouse.”

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Grandmother’s Table

Good evening everyone. This story was adapted from the Brothers Grimm and I’ll like to share it with you.

It may be that the older we get, the more this story will mean to us. But we should learn it while we are young, for the sake of the generation coming before us. We should also teach our younger ones, not just by words but by our actions.

Once there was a feeble old woman whose husband died and left her all alone, so she went to live with her son and his wife and their own little daughter. Every day the old woman’s sight dimmed and her hearing grew worse and sometimes at dinner her hands trembled so badly the peas rolled off her spoon or the soup ran from her cup. The son and his wife could not help but be annoyed at the way she spilled her meal all over the table and one day after she knocked over a glass of milk, they told each other enough was enough.

They set up a small table for her in the corner next to the broom closet and made the old woman eat her meals there. She sat all alone, looking with tear-filled eyes across the room at the others. Sometimes they spoke to her while they ate, but usually it was to scold her for dropping a bowl or a fork.

One evening just before dinner, the little girl was busy playing on the floor with her building blocks and her father asked her she was making. “I’m building a little table for you and mother,” she smiled. “So you can eat by yourselves in the corner someday when I get big.”

Her parents sat staring at her for some time and then suddenly both began to cry. That night they led the old woman back to her place at the big table. From then on she ate with the rest of the family, and her son and his wife never seemed to mind a bit when she spilled something every now and then.

***

Image from Knoll .com

Categories
Poetry

Moonlight

Spherical white gold
With memories impressed,
Up the dark skies
Riding on the clouds
And sometimes to stand
To light the woods,
And the vales and heights
Creating bold-
Caricatures of trees,
Images of the land
The moon light
Gives illumination
To the world at night
So the clouds may glow white

Categories
Poetry

Once upon a time… 


Once upon a time you preferred the silence to my love
Then trees leaves fell, they fall quietly and so you went

Once I held your hands in deep love and we walked the paths, 

And you told of our future but now you will not see me anymore

We played together, you were my favorite and I was your cherish

But where are you now, where are we dear? 

Old memories is all that lay on my paper 

Once I knew you, once I loved you and once we had all

But that was once upon a time… 

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First Words of P’Ville, SummerTown 2

                     images                       Summer had a lake which shone with the sun light

The shivering of the waters were seen even in the nights

By the roadside were carts drove were green and yellow flowers

And at some corners of the streets the crimson Rose stood taller

Than the street fencing which was immaculately painted white

From the vales down the road Summers castles on hills stood in sight

A part of the city harbored caves which the lost made their abode

Summers had villains, criminals who obeyed a Frog in the Woods

Swamps hid the other remnants of villains and burglars

Summers beauty reflected not on her inhabitants but on her clement weather

When it rained, it was more like melted sweet creams

So the city looked up to more creamy rain storm with glee

The Diamond Lake gave the town a feel of sea

And down the Burrows, Agui the cock  lived

…to be continued

 

 

 

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Amuse: Poetale of a town boy

is.jpg

I have become the village belle

Just that in fact, I am not a girl

Nene was so good in eulogizing me

She sang of my praises even when I did nothing

She told the villagers about my escapades in the city

She told them of my big eye glasses and how it fit my face

And how it seem that the glasses wore the face instead

Now she told them the stories I was ashamed to tell

And how I wore long pants with a string they call beletu

Okay, the sweet memories I kept in this hamlet

Seem to outweigh my disapproval of the city life

I forgot that picking other peoples mango fruits

Was a great taboo, if so I am guilty… I just remembered

When the evenings came in the countryside

Nene will be the first to come take me for a walk

She will tell me to hide in the tree silhouettes

And not to let the wild boys of the hamlet see me

Why she said so I can not really tell

Well, I could feel the boys treat me with distaste

The evening was not like the town nights

The hamlets were lighted with the kerosene lamps

And smell of peoples dinner rented the air,

As we passed some of the windows on the huts

Nene will tell me, hold your nose akpiri

And she will laugh out loud in the darkness

I see her white teeth shine but not her

For Nene was chocolate brown and the night will not discover her

The trek to the village square were they sold palm beer and pork,

Where Mallams sold also the tasteful Suya which scatter my head

Was quite interesting… crickets buzzed in the darkness

And bright stars glittered up the dark, cloudy skies

Nene will let me use my little savings to buy those sweet things

And she will yell out big brother each time she wanted to deceive me

But the pain always was to go home when it was time,

When we returned from our evening walks

For warm showers and spicy hot soups

I feel the joys that come with me staying away from the city

Commentary.

Beletu: Belt

Akpiri: long throat

Suya: grilled meat with crushed ground nuts and spices.

Image designed by petro: http://www.designsbypetro.com

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Rainmakers’ tales: 2 tales of Oke- Iroegbu

When I am not making the rain fall
And flood the villagers huts and farms
And to make the river banks overflow
So that the forests pathway is swampy
And the great crocodiles are washed ashore;
Then I will be watching the glittering stars
And talking about the stars, the night and moon
Well, the night is never complete without a tale
For the sleepy little ones,
But this time, no reading from a book
I shall tell you of the Forest and her folks
… Oke- Iroegbu

(a)
Once when the Forests owned all the land
And the Forest King has loved the greens
For it spread, such that the white mountains
Were covered with green grasses and plants
The Wind truly loved the look on the Mountain
For during the Winter, she had grown terribly cold
That she felt absolutely nothing even for the Wind
Then she had no dimples, no smiles, no blushing
Then it was only the Tomato that blushed about
Tanners, farmers, pupeteers called out to her
And all she could was smile and blush deep red
The Ice King wooed the Mountain and usually
Gathered about her face to give her a warm kiss
But this never went down well with the cool Wind
Now that the Ice King has gone with his captains
And Summer has come, the Forests came with their greens
How awlful, the Wind felt all year round
Seemed he was just a big time born loser!
But the true logic being that the Mountain
Was never meant for this young Wind

(b)
Now it was the tradition that the young men
Cut wood in the neighboring green forests
Before they can be allowed to chose a maiden
There was no axes in the town and near hamlets
And men were desperate for things
Even when they are not ready and ripe for it
Mirtle was a young man, despised and frail
Naturally dull, but deep inside he was a man
The youth of the hamlet, saw him as a weakling
And infact unfit for this great competition
So he was abandoned, and the other men
Went deep into the hearts of the green forest
Looking for wood, for there was no axe then
Then came dwarves walking about the hamlet
Without food or warm clothing
And night came upon them daily
And they starve and want warmness
And no one cared or even looked at them
For the villagers loathed the dwarves
But not all of them were villains
The weak Mirtle might be weak physically
But he had compassion and love
And knew what it meant to be cold
Not from the treacherous night weather
But from the hatred that lurks in peoples hearts
Mirtle gave his food and warm cloths
To some of the dying dwarves
Sharing with them till he had none
One night, the Chief Dwarf presented a gift
And lo! An axe, not just ordinary
And so Mirtle had wood and a fair maid
For his kindness to strangers in need

I knew you got the message, I had imagined and made this story to teach about love and kindness. Abraham entertained angels without knowing it.

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Folk: The sunny Forest

Once in a quiet sunny forest
The cruel Sun starved the Earth
And her little furry inhabitants
Of drinking water and comfort

The Owls & Wolves yawn in hunger
No one was able to decipher
Why the Sun brought her asunder
As all was thirsty for water

The forests dwellers hatched a plan
One of travelling to the village of men
Across hills & valleys thru strange land
And numerous tribes, peoples and clans

Such was the painful and heavy strife
For the bigger animals couldn’t thrive
The little animals ran for their dear lifes
From both the bigger animals and the Suns strafe

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The Old Man and The Bulb

I met an old man
Walking down the lane
Passing thru the barn
With a face, bold and stern
He dropped his stick
And I watched him stoop
His body rattled, weak
And down the steps, I took a hop
“Hello sire, lemme help you”
He looked up, a bright smile
“Oh, goodness, my son, bless you
i had been on the road for miles!”
The evening was cold
A storm was on its way
“Please do come inside
And I shall bake you some cake”
The face brightened the more
And thru the steps I led him
Taking our time as we head to the door
The sun sets, the clouds dim
And then the winds blew
Snow balls fall in drunk circles
And the road was full of white hue
I set the little brown kettle
And soon it was whistling
“Sire, you can stay the night”
I saw the hope in his eyes, dwindling
“Thanks for your hospitality”
He smiled again with some pain
The bulb up the ceiling kept shining
And I see glares of the old man
Take a side look, once and again
After tea and very hot shower
He lay on the bed, with his eyes on the ceiler
I sensed the unease, and made for the bed
“Sire, is anything the matter?”
He grunted and calmly shook his head
“Nah son, but I kept watching
This little light shining up there
I prefer to sleep on something
Afar off this little Sun up there!
I dont know what holds that”
He pointed to the bulb, carefully
Trying to let me see
Why the bed should be moved
Fearing should the hand
Holding the bulb decides to let go
What might become of him