PART 3 Nwaeke returns to the wild.

Nwaeke remained firmly wrapped around the old man's arm with her head resting in his hand between his thumb and his forefinger. She kept flicking her forked tongue to check out what was going on around her. A crowd still followed. The noise had not subsided either. There seemed to be a lot of excitement and she felt an occasional quick stroke as the children mustered enough courage to touch her. Some of the children were trying to find out how easy it would be to get the snake off gramps if they had to. They knew very well that the snake was not venomous, the chances of hurting gramps would only be by constricting him.
"My goodness, it is cold. The snake feels very cold, and it is hard." a voice called out. " I just touched the snake. Come and feel it." The children took turns touching the snake and concluded that getting the snake off gramps would not be so easy. The snake's muscles were firm.
They asked gramps how he would be able to get the snake off his arm, since it was hanging on so firmly. Gramps explained to them that the snake would get off when prompted to do so. His Nnaa had taught him how to handle snakes. He had taught him the features differentiating venomous vipers (Aju ana)from the python (eke). He warned them not to try identifying or touching any snakes, to call an adult, just like they did in this case, whenever they saw a snake.
It took many years for him to learn what he knew about snakes. He could identify different species of snakes. He had learned more about snakes at Agriculture school and had lived and worked as a teacher in remote areas where there were lots of snakes. He learned a lot about venomous snakes from the natives in those days. He even learned how to treat some snake bites. The grandchildren remembered this very well and that was why they ran straight to him when they saw the snake.
The older grandchildren found some of gramp's snake stories very interesting and tried to figure out the science behind some of them. They could not agree on any single theory and decided to do more research when they got back to school. The crowd filed through the gate leading to the backyard ( azu-uno) and proceeded through the cassava plot. Gramps stopped after crossing the cassava plot, at the edge of the small brush of small trees and shrubs.
Everybody stopped and the chatter stopped. The amateur photographers took their positions and were clicking away, getting good shots of the old man as he positioned to release the snake into the brush. "Gramps wait, gramps wait", they kept saying. The old man waited patiently, actually posing for them to get good shots.
He had always been very gentle and understanding with his grandchildren. At his age, he still remembered their names, who their parents were, and special things about each of them. In return, they respected and loved him very much for his easygoing ways and understanding. He is so unlike their grandmother who wastes no time spanking them when they deserved it. They loved grandma too, but in a different way. They knew where the boundaries were and never crossed them. Gramps and grandma were so different and each had special things about them that the children loved.
Coming home to Nnewi to celebrate gramp's ninetieth birthday was a big treat. It meant bringing the whole family together for a lot of fun activities with the extended family. Some nights the cousins stayed up late into the morning hours chatting with each other or practicing the dance routine they performed to the crowd at the birthday celebration for gramps. On that particular morning when Nwaeke was found in the chicken coop,some of the youngsters had gone to bed very late. They had practiced Kirk Franklin's Stomp late into the night. They wanted to get it right for the occasion and on the day of the celebration, they did a fantastic job and the crowd loved it very much.
Gramps leaned over and, and gently with his right hand touched nwaeke's head. The snake unravelled from his arm and slowly crawled into the brush. The photographers kept taking pictures until nwaeke's tail disappeared.
" Wow! that was cool," declared the young fellow who had discovered nwaeke partially hidden in the chicken coop. Everybody agreed that it was a very exciting and interesting morning. The story will be shared with friends and family in the years to come. The story of the day gramps removed a python (eke) with his bare hands.
The End.

PART 2---- The day Nwaeke got caught.

Nwa eke tried to hide in a corner in the chicken coop when daybreak came since she couldn't crawl away unnoticed. Unfortunately, she was noticed when the young vacationers trooped in as they always did, to check out the turkeys and ducks. They were rowdy and did not look where they were going. Nwa eke stayed very still to avoid being noticed, hoping that she would blend in with her surroundings. But they saw her anyway, letting out a loud shriek.
They ran frantically shouting and pointing towards the chicken coop, to the main house where their grandfather was relaxing in his recliner after breakfast. His older grandchildren, mostly college students were lounging in the palour with him, watching Nigerian movies which they love. On this particular morning, they were watching "Ukwa" for who knows how many times, and laughing at the gimmicks of the actors and actresses.
Their young cousins burst in, panting and ran straight to the old man. " Grandpa, Grandpa, Grandpa, there's a huge snake in the chicken house." It's huge, it's huge, they panted, gesturing with their hands to show how big. They remembered he wants them to speak igbo to him, and they changed to " aguo, aguo, (agwo). The double consonants remains problematic. That got the attention of the movie watchers who jumped up from their seats at the mention of a huge snake. They dashed outside behind their cousins, yelling and beckoning to the late sleepers to come see the huge snake in the chicken coop. Before long, the courtyard was filled with young people, their parents, some still in their nightclothes. There was a big commotion as people ran towards the chicken coop. There was cautious exitement in the air. Nobody knew what was hiding in there.
Gramps can handle it, after all he is grandpa and he had told a lot of stories of his adventures from years gone by.
Gramps to the rescue.
The old man got up from his easy chair, took his cane and came outside. For a ninety year old man, he was still in good shape and the grandchildren sometimes forgot his age. It is usually assumed that grandpa or gramps as they call him is invincible, knows everything and is not afraid of anything. He walked towards the chicken coop with his cane which he did not usually carry all the time. The crowd parted for him to pass, but the younger children continued in front of him as if they were not afraid anymore since gramps was behind them.
"Bia umu azia putanu grampa n'uzo" a voice called out.That was one of the college age grandchildren showing off his Igbo speaking skills. All of a sudden, igbo speaking broke out, from the youngsters visiting their grandparents, trying to outdo each other. " E-ye, putanu n'uzo osiso" " Unu ara anu ife, isi opupu (okpukpu)." I n'edebe isi ka monkey." Pronouncing (kp) or (gb) is always a big challenge for the igbo speakers.
At the entrance of the coop, the leaders stopped and moved aside for gramps to lead the way. They pointed at the corner where the snake's tail was visible. The old man looked around carefully, scanning the floor carefully before venturing inside. His sight was not as good as it used to be or as good as the children with him. He could not see very well in the dark corner where the snake was hiding. he looked back and asked for a flashlight or torch. " Wetanu torch, wetanu torch somebody yelled and the children echoed it over and over. A torch was rushed to grandpa as he moved cautiously closer to the corner, with one daughter close by flashing the bright light. He saw the snake and beckoned with his hand for all to hold back. There was silence, one could hear a pin drop. he peered until he saw the snake's head. "O bu eke." he declared, obviously relieved.
"What is eke?" What is eke?" broke out. Grandpa explained that eke is a non venomous snake, which keeps rats and frogs away. sometimes they come to eat eggs too, which is why this particular eke was there. " Will you kill it?" a voice asked. No! grandpa answered. I will remove it and take it to the backyard and release it to go back to the wild. The news was passed on the the people who couldn't get close enough and a commotion broke out as news broke out that grandpa is removing the snake with his hands.
Gramps got the eke to wrap around his arm, like his father showed hime many years ago when he was a child. He had lost his mother at a young age and hung around with his Nnaa ( as he called his father) a lot. He learned a lot of neat things from his father. He had told told his grandchildren stories of his adventures and times with his nnaa,and of the parrot his father owned who would perch on the compound wall by the ozobi and anounce who is passing, by singing out their names, or repeat what they said next time they came to visit, sometimes embarrasing people who have said bad things.---------

To be continued-----

Nwa eke wrapped tighlty around gramp's arm as the crowd trooped towards the backyard gate.
There was some concern that gramps may be constricted and he was aksed how tight the snake was holding on, just in case they have to get it off him, if the snake started acting up. Gramps let one or two people touch to find out. The snake felt like steel, they declared, eyes bulging with surprise. There was really concern in some quarters by this time.

THE DAY NWAEKE GOT CAUGHT.

This is for the children. It is based on a true story.

Eke: a small python ( constrictor), common in Igboland. They are harmless and were respected by Ndi igbo for their gentleness and job of eating pests like rats and other rodents. In some communites, they are not killed or harmed. Nwa: offspring, child.

---- The day Nwa Eke got caught.

One morning a snake, an Eke, who I will call Nwa eke, came to visit a site she had always visited to catch rodents or to steal eggs. The home owners raised a number of livestock ---chickens, ducks, turkeys and a few goats. There was always something there for the reptile visitor; rodents who come to feed on the poultry feed, or the eggs from the fowls. The elderly couple have very few people living with them so Nwa eke and his folk came and went without being noticed. Then in December 2002, the children and grandchildren of the couple trooped home to celebrate the 90Th birthday of their pa and all of a sudden the quiet environment turned into a mini zoo, with people coming and going in all directions, making a lot of noise. Even the chicken coop was not spared the activity. Little feet, big feet, some bare, and some in what looked like small canoes, trooped in and out, checking on the fowls, sometime scaring them and causing even more noise from the alarmed critters. Sneaking in and out of the bounty house became a chore for nwa eke and friends.They came at night and left or hid before daybreak until one morning when nwa eke came to get some goodies and got caught. Nweke tried to hide under the clutter in the corner of the chicken coop upon realizing that it was daybreak. Little did she know that although her head and most of her body was hidden, her tail and part of her side were visible. When those feet came in again with all the noise and chatter, nwa eke stayed very still. She heard a loud shriek and feet were moving very fast and in different directions as if they were running away from something horrible. There were shouts of ----s--n---a--k--e, s--n--a--k--e, and some were shouting --a--g--w--o, a--g--w--o, and then the noise died down briefly only to intensify as more feet rushed in, and now the feet were gathered in one spot and seemed to keep a safe distance from nwa eke. She flicked her tongue and felt the air. There were humans all over the place. Nwa eke remained calm knowing she was safe. She had been in this kind of trouble before and always got led away with a long strong stick, ever so gently. It surely won't be any different this time. Suddenly, she felt a human very close to her and moved her head to face the direction. Then she felt gentle stroking on her head and neck as if she was being invited for a ride. She took the cue and got on the hand, wrapping herself gently but firmly around the long arm. She liked the warmth of the old man's arm as he gently transported her away, her head peering out, tongue flickering occasionally to check out what was going on. The crowd followed, chattering like little parrots, repeating each others speech--------- " C-o-o-l, men, Gramps is the coolest guy I ever saw. " --------" Men, Gramps is like crocodile hunter, he's not scared of anything. Wait till I get back to school, I will tell all those scary cats about this."---------a girlish voice------I am scared for Grandpa, he is old and if he gets a bite, he may die from it, no good hospitals here, am so scared." Another voice retorts--------" What are you talking about ?----Grandpa said that this is Eke, a python, they are not venomous. If it tries to constrict Gramps, we'll just get it off him" Nweke relaxed as the ride continued. She had suddenly become a celebrity.---- To be continued

VIBRANT UMUIGBO GETTING DOWN.

Next generation Umu nnewi doing their thing at the 2004 NnewiUSa convention in Orlando Florida. They had a time of their lives.

Mothers are for.........

Mothers are for loving you
If you're good or bad.
Mothers are for sharing
Whatever makes you glad.
Mothers are for laughing
At your favorite jokes.
Mothers are for helping you
Get along with folks.
Mothers are for reading
Stories old and new.
Mothers are for teaching you
To always be kind and true.
Mothers are for watching
When you give a play.
Mothers are for clapping
In a happy sort of way.
Mothers are for loving
When you snuggle up so tight.
Mothers are for hugging you
With a sweet good night.
Love,
Nduka. (copyright) May 1994.




Back in 1994, precisely twelve years ago, a few days to mother's day, my son's fifth grade teacher sent home a large envelope with him addressed to me. Being a good student and a good boy overall,Iwas'nt worried about the contents of the envelope. A note inside read it : Dear Mrs Enemchukwu, I thought you may want to keep this, since it's so special, I laminated it for you". I pulled out an 8x10 laminated pink poster paper with a poem on it. The title was " Mothers are for....... and signed and dated by my son Nduka Enemchukwu . He stood there in anticipation, so I read the poem and pulled him close and gave him a big hug for writing such a sweet poem specially for me. I put it away in my scrap book where I put awards or such things from school or sporting events.With our hectic schedule, there was no time for dwelling on the poem at the time.
A typical day started with my return from work in the morning and the house buzzing with before school activities. The children would be almost halfway through getting ready for school by the time I get home and we hurry and get everyone out the door and see the bicycle riders off and I take the car riders and the baby to get in the the drop- off line before it becomes too long. Some days the line would be so long that I am usually able to get a good ten to fifteen minute cat nap before it is our turn to drop off. The two year old and I would then hurry home, bathe east breakfast and then proceed to
tidy up the house quickly . He looked foward to our time together because he had me all to himslf. After breakfast, we would watch for Sesame Street and other of his favorite children's program before we go to sleep. On good days he would let me get up to three hours of sleep, on bad days or when he was sick, it would be off and on cat naps on the couch in between watching Tv, playing or just trying to get over an ear infection or another uncorfortable problem. If I fell asleep in the middle of his favorite show, he would gently try to wake me up for the laughs. Then it's time for afterschool pick ups. First, the three bicycle riders arrive, full of ennrgy and excitement and stories to tell. The pick up line for the two car riders was usually long by the time I got there and the girls were tired and quiet on the ride home after standing in the blazing Florida sun wiating for their turn to be picked up. The evenings were usually spent at practice for Tennis, Basketball, Cross country depending on which sporting event they were involved in at the time. If there was no practice , they played in the yard and usually took the little one and I would manage another hour or two of sleep before homework, dinner and off to work. Even during the week end and Summer, when school was out, getting adequate sleep was a big challenge. Sports practice, YMCA swimming lessons, Tennis tournaments whch sometime took us to Tampa or Fort Lauderdale, Florida kept us on our toes. A few neighbors and friends from church whose children were in the same program, helped out once in a while and gave rides to my children allowing me time to sleep before working the night shift. Two occasions come to mind when I absolutely thought I would lose my mind. The two-year old had surgery, an out patient event that requred us to be at the hospital by seven thirty in the morning. Having no vacation time left, I pleaded with my supervisor to let me bring him to work with me so we could leave from work to his appointment in the morning. My request was granted and I took him to work which made him very happy. Being in an unfamiliar environment, it was difficult for him to settle down and sleep and he kapt demanding something to drink which I could'nt give him becasue he was NPO and was not allowed to eat or drink anything. Calming him down while trying to do my work was a big challenge.We went straight to the hospital from work, about a thirty minute drive and were almost late when we got there, despite the fact that my relief came in early so I could leave. They quickly prepped him and took him to the operating room. I fell asleep in the waiting room and the nurse woke me up when the surgery was over and asked that I come and stay with him in the recovery room. They knew I had worked the night before and gave me a recliner. We slept side by side while the nurses watched us like we were both in recovery. When he came to, they woke me up to hold him because he was crying for pain. They gave him some pain medication and we hung around for another two hours before they discharged us with instructuions and an appoitment slip for follow up.We drove home uneventfully but trouble started when we got home and the little gellow could'nt do all the things he used to do. He got frustrated and cried at the drop of a pin. Carrying him on my back with a wrapper used to work wonders because he enjoyed it, stayed out of trouble and usually fell asleep in no time. This time, I could'nt carry him because of his surgical wound so it was cranky town for the next few days.He cried if any of his siblings approached or touched him. Two days, I called in sick, then I took him to work with me for about three days. We were both relived when his wound healed and he could move around again and do things for himself.
Another hairy situation arose one day as I was cooking one hot summer day. Having been raised on beans, I continue to enjoy beans to this day, especially lentils and black beans. They have less carbohydrate and do not cause as much bloating as the black eye beans. I would cook beans (beanse) as my children called it trying to mimmick Nigerians, and serve it with rice and stew or with plantain. Every one enjoyed it. It usally took just a few minutes to cook the beans in a pressure cooker. Even when we made Chili from scatch, we cooked the Kidney beans with the pressure cooker which leaves the beans soft and intact and not mushy as the children describe over cooked food.
On that fateful day, we had come back from a morning of tennis practice and every one was exhausted and staying inside, away from the blazing heat. I started dinner early so we can eat and relax a little bit before it was time for work. I started rice in one pot, made stew and then started the beans in the pressure cooker. I sat down on the couch and fell asleep. Then I saw little people jumping up and down in front of me poiting to the kitchen and saying something. I thought I was dreaming. When I finally woke up, I realized something was going on in the kitchen. My children always tease me for burning food because I fell asleep on the couch. They had no idea how to handle this particular situation and I am happy they did'nt try.The loud whistling and hissing of the pressure cooker made me run to the kitchen. I was confused by what I saw. I stood there for a minute trying to figure out how to tackle the problem and the children kept yelling" Mom do something , do something. So I ran towrds the stove to turn off it off. The pressure cooker had blown its top and was sending a steady stream of hot liquid to the ceiling and the hot liquid was raining on the kitchen floor. I slipped on the thick liquid on the floor and landed sitting squarley in it while more rained on my head. I tried to get up, slipped and fell again. My children were dying with laughter and trying so hard to conceal it. Desperate to do something quickly, I crawled on all fours to the stove, reached up and turned it off. The whistling finally subsided and the upward spray stopped. By this time we were all rolling on the floor laughing. I was dripping with bean broth , in my hair, on my arms, on my face. The children kept apologising for laughing at me but it was so funny they could,nt help it. Funny, not really, that pot could have exploded or blown a hole in the ceiling. I never used a pressure cooker again since that close call.
The years went by really fast and middle school and high school breezed by and college is also becoming history and sometimes I wonder where the years went.
A few days ago, while putting away Aj's High school graduation notice in my scrap book,a pink laminted poster paper fell out and I picked it up and read it and it was the peom from long ago. For the first time,I noticed the rhyme, the thoughtfulness and the simple things that mattered to a ten year old and I was touched. No wonder the teacher laminated it and sent it to me to personally. I called the poet and asked him if he remembered the mother's day peom he wrote for me in fifth grade. " I wrote so many poems in those days Mom" he responded and I remember clearly the little notes he would bring home and I will show my appreciation and just put them aside on the table on night stand. I asked hime if I could share this special poem since he had signed and dated it. He was laughing at how seriously I was taking the copyright issue. I insisted that he copyright it before mother's day and he promised to do just that. With that I felt I had the freedom to share this special poem from a ten year old, now twenty two who thinks the world of his mother and the little things she did and does. My prayer is that he will one day be blessed with that special someone, who will think the world of him and who he will adore as he adores his mother.
To all the single Moms out there, pulling double duty to give their children a normal life, and to all the Dads who are filling Mom's shoes because Mom is winning the bread and is too busy or Mom is simply out to left field, this Poem is for you:

Mothers are for loving you
if you're good or bad.
Mothers are for sharing
Whatever makes you glad.
Mothers are for laughing
At your favorite jokes
Mothers are for helping you
Get along with folks.
Mothers are for reading
Stories old and new.
Mothers are for teaching you
To always be kind and true.
Mothers are for watching
When you give a play.
Mothers are for clapping
In a happy sort of way.
Mothers are for loving
When you snuggle up so tight.
Mothers are for hugging
With a sweet good night.>>>>

Nduka Enemchukwu
May 94.

ONE OF COLUMBIA'S LAST PICTURES

THIS PHOTO IS ABSOLUTELY BEAUTIFUL. BE SURE TO READ THE TEXT BELOW TO HAVE A BETTER UNDERSTANDING OF WHAT YOU ARE VIEWING. IT IS HISTORIC TO AS THIS IS THE LAST MISSION FOR COLUMBIA. PLEASE TAKE YOUR TIME TO GRASP GREATNESS. COLUMBIA CRASHED WHILE RE ENTERING THE EARTH TAKING THE LIVES OF THE CREW MEMBERS.

The photograph attached was taken by the crew on board the Columbia during its last mission, on a cloudless day.
The picture is of Europe and Africa when the sun is setting. Half of the picture is in night.
The bright dots you see are the cities' lights.
The top part of Africa is the Sahara Desert.
Note that the lights are already on in Holland, Paris, and Barcelona, and that's it's still daylight in Dublin, London, Lisbon, and Madrid.
The sun is still shining on the Strait of Gibraltar.
The Mediterranean Sea is already in darkness.
In the middle of the Atlantic Ocean you can see the Azores Islands; below them to the right are the Madeira Islands ; a bit below are the Canary Islands; and further South, close to the farthest western point of Africa , are the Cape Verde Islands.
Note that the Sahara is huge and can be seen clearly both during day time and night time.
To the left, on top, is Greenland, totally frozen.

Chinwe E

Remonstrance with the Snails. ( Annonymous)

Ye little snails,
With slippery tails,
Who noiselessly travel
Along this gravel,
By a silvery path of slime unsightly,
I learn that you visit my pea rows nightly.
Felonious your visit, I guess!
And I give you this warning,
That, every morning,
I'll strictly examine the pods;
And if one I hit on,
With slaver or spit on,
Your next meal will be with gods.

I own you're a very ancient race,
And Greece and Babylon were amid;
You have tenanted many a royal dome,
And dwelt in the oldest pyramid;
The source of the Nile!-
O, you have been there!
In the ark was your floodless bed;
On the moonless night of marathon
You crawled o'er the mighty dead;
But still, though I reverence your ancestries,
I don't see why you should nibble my peas.

The meadows are yours,- the hedgerow and brook,
You may bathe in their dews at morn;
By the aged sea you may sound your shells,
On the mountains, erect your horn;
The fruits and the flowers are your rightful dowers,
Then why- in the name of wonder-
Should my pea-rows be the only cause
To excite your midnight plunder?

I have never disturbed your slender shells;
You have hung around my aged walk;
And each night have sat,
till he died in his fat,
Beneath his own cabbage-stalk:
But now you must fly from the soil of your sires:
Then put on your liveliest crawl,
And think of your poor little snails at home,
Now orphans or emigrants all.
Utensils domestic and civil and social
I give you an evening to pack up;
But if the moon of this night does not rise on your flight,
To-morrow I'll hang each man Jack up.
You'll think of my peas and your theivish tricks,
With tears of slime, when crossing the Styx.
ANONYMOUS

Mbe agaba------Ajambene. Adventures of Mbekwu, nwaniga

Mbe agaba------ajambene
Mbe agaba-------ajambene
Ga -ga -ga- ga--- ajambene
Ga- ga -ga- ga-------ajabene
Jedo nkwu nke a--ajambene
Si ya i chalu o-ne---ajambene
O si n'ochalu ofu---ajambene------
This will introduce the series of stories about the adventures of Mbe ( Mbekwu, Mbediogu, Nwa -aniga), the hero of most igbo folklore and fables.
Coming up soon.

THE GOAT. Author Unknown.

The Goat.

There was a man, now please take note,
There was a man,who had a goat,
He lov'd that goat,indeed he did,
He loved that goat, like a kid

One day the goat felt frisk and fine,
Ate three shirts from off the line.
The man he grabbed him by the back,
And tied him to a railroad track.

But when the train hove into sight,
That goat grew pale and green with fright.
He heaved a sigh, as if in pain,
Coughed up those shirts and flagged the train.
Author Unknown.

MBEKWU----- MBE---- AND HIS CUNNING WAYS

To be continued------Mbekwu or Mbe (Tortoise) is the animal featured in most Igbo fable and folklore. Mbe, always portrayed as very wise and cunning, always tricking other animals and even humans must have earned that reputation because of the way he protects himself from danger and dangerous situations. The tortoise is always very careful and when approached suddenly or surprised quickly withdraws into his hard shell and plays dead until the coast is clear.

Here in Florida, there is a species of tortoise called Gopher Turtles and they are protected by the law. They live in underground dens which they sometimes share with other animals especially during the short cold spells of the winter. Gopher turtle dens can hold bunnies, snakes, even stray dogs. Once I had animal control officers remove a stray dog and her puppies from my property, it took them several hours of digging to get to the puppies. The tunnel meandered left and right with resting chambers. It reminded me of Alice of " Alice in Wonderland" and it was amazing that those puppies could get air for survival that deep in the burrow. They stayed near the entrance and hurried back when anything approached. They were whisked away to the dog catchers joint for fear they may habour rabies.

Gopher turtles are all over central Florida and they are bad news to a property owner because they have more rights than the property owner. They cannot be disturbed, removed or killed, no matter what. If they must be moved, the State will be called in to do it after collecting a handsome sum of money for the relocation. That means that a person with Gopher landlords must share the space with the landlords. The gopher turtle burrows his den where he chooses to. If it is noticed and covered up quickly, he goes back and digs it again with an attitude as if to let it be known that he did not like that joke at all.
Currently with about seven established gopher dens on my five acres, I occasionally come across the big landlords taking leisurely strolls across the yard or the driveway. They would stop, if grazing and casually size up the person or car before deciding what to do, lazily chewing on the wild flowers they love to munch on. They may withdraw their heads into their shells and just sit there, , or just keep on eating occasionally glancing in your direction. These gophers vary in size, from quarter sized newly hatched turtles which the hawks swoop down to pick up, to huge old timers, the size of a medium sized ikwe (motar).
Sometimes the gopher turtle would not withdraw his head into the shell when confronted , but would actually fight and defend himself and are therefore also called snapping turtles.

Occasionally, these creatures would become roadkill when hit while crossing a deserted country highway by a speeding driver who suddenly comes upon them. Many a driver have wrecked a car while trying to avoid or stop for some of these creatures. Stories have it that some country restaurants deep in the back roads actually serve gopher, rabbit, and opossum stew from roadkill in addition to deer and alligator dishes. The alligator and deer are taken during the short hunting season by State licensed hunters. I have not visited any of these restaurants but I hear that gopher stew is really yummy. Years ago my youngest son and his playmates / classmates came upon his friend's father cleaning turtle meat which he claimed was roadkill. An offer of the turtle stew when it was ready was declined. I would taste it if given the opportunity, just out of curiosity. I was once tricked into tasting Octopus. It tasted really good but I wanted to throw up when I found out what I had eaten.

Going back to the tortoise story, I have observed first hand why I think Ndi Igbo chose mbekwu (mbe) for their fables and folk stories.

To be continued.

A CAT'S CONSCIENCE.-------- AUTHOR UNKNOWN

A Cat's Conscience

A dog will often steal a bone,
But conscience lets him not alone,
And by his tail his guilt is known.

But cats consider theft a game,
And, howsoever you may blame,
Refuse the slightest sign of shame.
When food mysteriously goes,
The chances are that Pussy knows
More than she leads you to suppose.
And hence there is no need for you,
If Puss declines a meal or two,
To feel her pulse and make ado.
AUTHOR UNKNOWN

A NARROW FELLOW IN THE GRASS. (BY EMILY DICKINSON)

A narrow fellow in the grass
Occasionally rides;
You may have met him,--did you not,
His notice sudden is.

The grass divides as with a comb,
A spotted shaft is seen;
And then it closes at your feet
And opens further on.

He likes a boggy acre,
A floor too cool for corn.
Yet when a child, and barefoot,
I more than once, at morn,

Have passed, I thought, a whip-lash
Unbraiding in the sun,--
When, stooping to secure it,
It wrinkled, and was gone.

Several of nature's people
I know, and they know me;
I feel for them a transport
Of cordiality;

But never met this fellow,
Attended or alone,
Without a tighter breathing,
And zero at the bone.
Emily Dickinson

A BIRD CAME DOWN THE WALK by EMILY DICKINSON

A bird came down the walk:
He did not know I saw;
He bit an angle-worm in halves
And ate the fellow, raw.

And then he drank a dew
From a convenient grass,
And then hopped sidewise to the wall
To let a beetle pass.

He glanced with rapid eyes
That hurried all abroad,--
They looked like frightened beads, I thought;
He stirred his velvet head

Like one in danger; cautious,
I offered him a crumb,
And he unrolled his feathers
And rowed him softer home

Than oars divide the ocean,
Too silver for a seam,
Or butterflies, off banks of noon,
Leap, splashless, as they swim.
Emily Dickenson

THE TIGER by WILLIAM BLAKE

Tiger! Tiger! burning bright,
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye.
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies.
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand, dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder, and what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat.
What dread hand? and what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp.
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears,
And watered heaven with their tears,
Did he smile His work to see?
Did he who made the lamb make thee?

Tiger Tiger burning bright,
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
-------William Blake

NEW BLOG FOR THE YOUNG

THIS BLOG IS SPECIFICALLY FOR THE YOUNG and the young at heart.

The postings on this blog will be mainly for young people. Favorite Poems by well known and hardly known authors, then personal short stories, Igbo fables and folklore will make up the bulk of the postings.

I will start with poems about animals in English, then go to Igbo fables using Mbe or Mbekwu ( Tortoise) which teach life lessons to the young. Most Igbo fable and folklore use Mbe and his wife Anim and their friends and foes. The narration will be in English while the chorus part will be in Igbo, for example the
( nda, une, ajambene and tumangwe parts).