raindrops

african short stories and poems

Sylvia Agamah-Ochidi

in loving memory of my father Late Hon. Philip Audu Agamahwho inspired my literary skills

raindrops

Sylvia Agamah-Ochidi

Copyright © 2016

All rights reserved. Written permission must be securedfrom the publisher to use or reproduce any part of this book.

african short stories and poems

Contents

Inikpi, Father’s Love Child ................................... 1Dilemma ................................................................ 2Anansi, The Spider ................................................ 3Old Age ................................................................. 4Tortoise And Nothing ............................................ 5Rustic Nostalgia .................................... ................ 6Quietly Brilliant ..................................................... 7Ama, The Butterfly Keeper .................................... 8Virgo Afrikan .......................................................... 9Mr. Anus ................................................................ . 10Rainbow Wings ..................................................... . 11Sun So Blue ............................................................ 12Plate Chain Child .................................................... 13The Wise Beggar ..................................................... 14

Once upon a time, in the kingdom of Igala land, there lived a king. His people loved him very much because he was a good king. One day, strong enemies from distant lands threatened his reign with war. The strong enemies had conquered several foreign villages. Now the Igala king consulted his traditional priest to know if he will win the war. The traditional priest told him that he will win the war if he agrees to sacrifice his only child to the gods. The shocked and sad king couldn’t sleep or eat for three days. One afternoon, he called his daughter, “Inikpi!”. She ran to him and bowed before him in response. He told her he didn’t call her. She went back inside. He called her again. When she ran to him, he told her he didn’t call her. The third time he called her, Inikpi ran to him and said, “Father, please tell me what the matter is.” The king told her that she must be sacrificed to win the war. Inikpi agreed to be sacrificed for the sake of her people. The king won the war against the strong enemies and Igala people lived peacefully for a very long time.

inikpi, father’s love child

1

dilemma

Walking by the riverside,Imagining dark eyes,

Tiny fish in fresh water,Crocodiles struggling to feed,

Hippos in the deep,

Waiting for the night to come,Young maiden suddenly appeared,

In her flying dress,Balancing a water jar - and singing,

I tried to stop her just to say “Hello,”The water jar dropped, water flooded the green grass,Forcefully uprooting and clearing weed back to river,

Young maiden’s voice rang: “Father! Father!He has raped me!!”

I saw gigantic hands hold me by the throat,A man in uniform,

Manacled my hands,

Three years later,The man with gigantic hands died,

He left a letter, Urging me to promise him a grandchild.

~ Emmanuel Monychol

2

anansi, the spider

In the olden days, all the folktales which men told were stories of Nyankupon, the chief of the gods. But Spider, who was very crafty, wanted the stories to be told about him. So one day, Spider went to Nyankupon and asked that, in future, all folktales told by men might be Anansi’s stories instead of Nyakupon’s stories. Nyankupon agreed but on one condition: Spider, also known as Anansi, must bring him three things, the first was a jar full of live bees, the second was a boa-constrictor, and the third a tiger. Spider gave his promise. Next day, he took a jar and went to a bee hive. He murmured to himself, “They will not be able to enter this jar. Yes, they will be able...” The bees heard him and asked him what he was talking about. He told them that Nyankupon argued with him that the bees will not enter the jar. The bees yelled that they can and flew into the jar, Anansi sealed up the jar immediately. He took a long stick and went to the boa-constrictor. He mur-mured to himself, “Some people say he will not be as long as this. Other people say he will...” The boa-constrictor fell for the trick and got tied to the stick from end-to-end. Anansi sewed up his eyes half way and went to the tiger. He said, “You need to see the beautiful things I see with my sewn up eyes. I must sing about them.” Tiger replied, ”Sew up my eyes too. I want to see them.” Anansi sewed up his eyes and tied him up. Anansi, the Spider, fulfilled his promise to Nyankupon.

3

old age

Your teeth have fled their nest,Dust rules over the Holy Book,

Untouched buttons of your radio look on,Curtain folds are like a nurse’s starched uniform,

Your soup bowl has become a roach’s pool,Your appetite is painted in dull colours,

Your stick is the centre in the spider’s handcraft,

Vivacity basks in a second childhood,The sturdy voice that bounce on walls is now drained,

The kite-sharp eyesight simmers on dying fire,Your countenance is the light of a fast sinking sun,Muscles of steel now soft like newly ground corn,

Humor has abandoned your garden,Where are the mighty hands that lifted me when I fell?

Silent weeds strangle years,Tendrils of life are tangled up and bewildered,

Your worm-eaten garb sways in the wind,My eyes well up and rage weighs my throat down,

You are the mahogany never meant to shed his leaves.

~ Sophie N. Bamwoyeraki

4

tortoise and nothing

Near Tortoise’s miserable little hut there was a fine palace where lived a rich man called Nothing. One day, Tortoise and Nothing proposed to go to the neighbouring town to get some wives. They set off together. Nothing, being a very rich man, wore a very fine velvet cloth, while Tortoise had a ragged cotton one. On their way, Tortoise persuaded Nothing to exchange clothes for a little while, promising to give back the fine velvet before they reached the town. He delayed keeping his promise on one pretext and another - till they arrived at their destination. Tor-toise, being dressed in such a fine garment, found no dif-ficulty in getting as many wives as possible. Poor Nothing, with his ragged and miserable cloth, was treated with contempt. Nothing did not want to embarrass Tortoise in front his many wives. A woman took pity on Nothing and gave him her daughter. The other women mocked her for marrying a poor man. When they reached the cross-roads, Tortoise and Nothing exchanged clothes. The women were astonished to also see that the road that leads to Tortoise’s hut was bushy while the road that leads to Nothing’s palace was wide and beautiful.

5

rustic nostalgia

We used to dance and play,In the warm village rain,

We lived in hope of true love,From men so strong and brave,We sang our hearts out daily,As we pounded corn and rice,United together, dear friend,

A bond of heart and soul,

We trekked to the local school,With worn-out rubber slippers,

And old school uniforms,Inherited from graduated seniors,Then came the final year results,

We made it, we danced and smiled,We laughed and celebrated,

The urban filth of today,Headphones and high heels,Lipstick and push-up bras,

Handbags full of hate and pain,Loneliness and TV,

The cold social media playground,Make those rustic days,

A distant memory of milk and honey.

~ Sylvia Agamah-Ochidi

6

quietly brilliant

Oh, the Moon.Ready and poised to wax or wane,

Lady Moon.You roll on to perfect gain,

Full Moon.Your incompleteness is now healed!

Lady Moon, are you tired?You look so pale,

Art thou quiet for weariness?How you gentle wander,Until you slowly fade,

Dear Moon. You are quietly brilliant,

Does the world know,While she sleeps at night,That high in the dark sky,

Watches a silver glow,Until she wakes to daylight?

~ Sylvia Agamah-Ochidi

7

ama, the butterfly keeper

In a forest village, there once lived a young woman who was called Ama. A village surrounded by rocks, moun-tains and wildlife. Ama loved butterflies. Every morning she would go to her butterfly house to release the butter-flies into the sunlight. An amazing sight of colours in the wind. One evening, she went to fetch some firewood from the forest. She was shocked to see many dead animals lying around without wounds from predator attacks. Ama screamed and fled from the forest. When she got home she noticed that very few of her butterflies re-turned home for the night. Ama ran to the chief’s adviser to report what she saw in the forest. On her way back, in the midst of the sounds of numerous crickets, she heard her name. She looked around, there was no one. She heard, “Ama!” from above her. A talking owl! Ama’s legs froze out of fear. “Ama,” the owl continued, “mother of butterflies, black poison from distant lands flows to the village to destroy everything living. Tell the villagers.” Fifteen years later, Ama is yet to tell anyone what the owl said. The village is now a shadow of itself.

8

virgo afrikan

She is draped in thick robe of ofi caste,Cylinder of beads cascading, like torn rag,

Below her unadulterated pulpit,Where roll call of wanton congregation supplicates,

Of laali** and osun** painting of her umbilicus,At quadrangle about sunfall time,

Amidst mortal denizens,

She twirls and turns swiftly,Into spiraling silhouette of contorted crescent,

To the long drums of wooden skin,Till my eyes shutter to a briskly musing,

But she is AFRICA, the motherland.

~ Ehindola Peter

9

Mr. Anus

The Head told the other members of the body, “I want to be the leader because, if we want to look at a person, we do so through the Head. I have intelligence and wisdom.” The other members of the body told the Head, “We know that you have intelligence and wisdom, but you have ring-worm and you have lice; therefore, you do not deserve to be our leader.” The Hand also announced, “I want to be the leader because it is I who help the man. If provoked, I can defend the human body by administering shots. The head could be strong. But if someone is sick, I make him eat. If you need to cut something, you use me”. The mem-bers said to the Hand, “You cannot be our leader because you slap people, you hit people and you touch everything. Therefore, we do not give you the power.” The Anus boldly said, “I am the leader.” The members became very angry and told the Anus that, even if the power was given to every other member, they could not give it to the Anus. Anus said, “You will all know that I am the boss. I will go home and you shall seek me.” The Anus went home and closed his door. Five days later, the members decided to seek the Anus at his house. When they arrived at Mr. Anus’ house, they said to him, “Anus, it is you who should be our leader, we came to hand power over to you.” Anus accepted the offer. Mr. Anus pressed a button, and the man was able to empty his bowel and felt com-fortable.

10

rainbow wings

This I know,Not so long ago,Met I a butterfly,

Beautifully perched on my window glass,Brought to eye a tear I dry,

Every waking moment,Was time spent with my friend,The butterfly of morning light,

Colours of great interest,So fragile; so magnificent,

Enchanted butterfly!What stories you tell,

On your rainbow wings –A crawly caterpillar,To a stagnant pupa,

Now a soaring wonder,

Your flutters; gust of life,You are me –

A reflection of change.

~ Sylvia Agamah-Ochidi

11

sun so blue

Sitting here in a silent room,Reflecting to ease the doom,

Words marking my paper down,Rolling off like a falling crown,

My pain bleeds red as I write,What my heart hurts to hide.

In my throat a lump,All emotions numb,

Revenge is sweet,lifts me up on my feet,

More bitter words till I surrender,May they burn you like showers of ember,

As I write,I share my plight,

To you who made my sun so blue,Wish you never know I loved you.

~ Sylvia Agamah-Ochidi

12

plate chain child

I feel the pain,And see you,

With nothing to sustain,But this plate chain,

Handed down…I see you roam the streets,Belly empty, head hollow,

But a song,Rolling off the tongue,

Endlessly rung,Ding! dong! tongue!In its incoherence,

You gallivant the dusty roads,Roaming in windy abandon,

The ring of your laughter overwhelm the streets,Proud of the plate chain,

You, a street king...I see you;

A wretched contentment,And wonder…

~ Feyisayo Adeyemi

13

the wise beggar

One day a hungry beggar went to the house of a rich man. He asked for something to eat. The rich man invited the beggar in and gave him some fufu. The beggar ate the fufu very quickly. When he finished, the rich man asked, “Do you want more to eat?” The beggar answered, “No, thanks. That was enough, I’m full.” But the rich man gave the beggar a large plate of rice. The beggar finished the rice very quickly too. “Do you want more to eat?”, the rich man asked again. The beggar answered, “No, thanks. That was enough, I’m full.” But the rich man didn’t stop. He gave the beggar a bowl of pepper soup. The beggar quick-ly finished the pepper soup. “Why do you lie to me?”, the rich man asked, “Everytime I ask you if you want more to eat, you say no. But everytime I give you more, you eat it very quickly.” The beggar looked around. Outside the kitchen there was a large calabash. He filled the calabash with stones and asked the rich man, “Is this calabash full?” The rich man said, “Of course it’s full.” Then the beggar put some sand in the calabash that was full of stones. “Is this calabash full?”, he asked again. “Of course it’s full,” the rich man answered. Then the beggar got a big bowl of water. He poured the water into the calabash that was full of stones and sand. “You see” he said to the rich man, “Everytime I ask you if the calabash is full, you say yes; but everytime you say yes, I fill the calabash again. It’s the same with the food you gave me.”

14

CONTRIBUTORS

Emmanuel Monychol was born on the outskirts of a town called Tonj in South Sudan. He has studied in South Sudan and Uganda. He is currently taking a Masters degree (Media Management) in the United Kingdom.

Sophie N. Bamwoyeraki was born in south western Uganda, Mbarara. Sophie holds a Masters in Education and currently teaches at Kampala International School, Uganda. She has co-authored text books for secondary schools. She is currently compiling a poetry anthology.

Ehindola Peter was born in the northern stretch of Ondo state, Nigeria. He holds a B.A in English from Adekunle Ajasin University, Akungba, Akoko, Ondo state, Nigeria, with research focus on Post-Modernist Theory and Rheto-rics. He is currently a graduate student at the Centre for Peace and Strategic Studies (Institute of African Studies), University of Ibadan.

Feyisayo Adeyemi was born in Ondo town and studied English at Adekunle Ajasin University, Akungba, Akoko, Ondo state, Nigeria. He captures life in texts and frames. Feyi works as an SEO Manager and runs a blog that fea-tures literary expressions, art and culture: nantygreens.com

Sylvia Agamah-Ochidi was bor� in Lagos, Nigeria. She st�died Mass Communication (B.A) from the Universit� of Jos, Plateau state, Nigeria. She has a Diploma in Creative Writing (ALISON Cer�ified Lear�ing). She is a g�aduate of the Policy and Legal Ad-vocacy Cent�e (PLAC) Inter�ship Prog�amme where she was de-ployed to the Senate Committee on Rules and Business at the Na-tional Assembly, Abuja, Nigeria. She is also a cer�ified YALI (Young African Leadership Initiative) Green Champion.

Other books written by Sylvia Agamah-Ochidi: “Ama, The Butterfly Keeper”“Make a Difference”.