I AM BECAUSE YOU ARE - Oma-Ikor

Hello everyone, my name is oma-Ikor and this is my first time posting here. I hope you enjoy my little piece

https://ourpangea.wordpress.com/2012/09/13/ubuntu-i-am-who-i-am-because-of-who-we-all-are/
On this beautiful evening, I sit under the baoba tree puffing my tobacco into the air as I enjoy the beauty of the little chirping evening birds. I surmise on the sumptuous dinner my ebony black wife is preparing in the thatched kitchen. Oblivious of my surroundings, and still trapped in my imagination, the sound of joyful laughter interrupts my reverie. I look on to see my nine years old son, Nnamdi as he strolls alongside his friend Mustapha. They greet me as they spread the mattress conspicuously kept beside the baoba tree on the dry floor, each folding his legs and starring at me as though they wanted something; something they knew I could do. As I await their request, other children rushed out from their houses.Taking their seats, they scream "Papa Koro anyi akwukwo ifo". I am taken aback as I look at these joyful pleading faces.

https://www.quora.com/Why-is-the-oral-tradition-of-Africa-not-accepted-as-a-source-of-historical-information-while-Iliad-and-Odyssey-are-accepted-in-Greek
I dare not turn them down, no, so I blurted out ifo cha pi! which is the traditional way of preparing their aching ears for my story. And 'wo' came the resounding response from the already excited children. I cleared my throat, grabbed a cup of palmwine from my footstool, gulping to my satisfaction, I started telling my story.
"Once upon a time" I called, allowing my voice to trail off as I watch the avidity in the eyes of these young ones rise before me. There was a land, I continued, a land which I happened to know, my eyes wander from eye to eye, and finally rests on the tender eyes of Fatima as she stares at me with inquisitive disillusionment. I understood the look, a look expressing a somewhat disappointment at my choice of narrative ; for she had only come here to be entertained by stories such as I had told them the other night.Why on Earth have I chosen to tell them the story of a land I had known. She shifts swiftly, adjusting her head-tie. This land, I continued, is made up of three crossroads of equal diverse units , arrayed with the perfect touch of nature; a land expressing the work of a supreme Mastermind, subsisting grasslands,savannahs, giant hills,bright valleys , beautiful clattering waterfalls, rainforest, deserts, wildlife, foodcrops, and rich mineral resources.It is a land flowing with oil and gold. This land is made up of different people speaking diverse tongues, yet everyman understands his neighbor with clarity so crystal,and this is possible because they all speak one language - love. There is an overflow of joy in the air breathed by everyone whether they are in the fields under the scortching sun, or in the blasting rain. In this land the strongest force at work is the force of unity; the strongest belief is peace, love and faith.

https://www.pinterest.com/pin/346988346263313290/
I pause, sending my left hand crashing the intruder on my right leg- a mosquito. I continued, a land where a man's dream is changed from mere thoughts to flesh and blood ; a land of no mean man.
In this land only one song is sang, and that is the song of wisdom, freedom, togetherness, love,and peace. A song of alluring melody, a union of the oja,ogene, alghaita, kakaki, goge, agidigbo, bata drum, and the talking drum which echoes far into distant lands. An aesthetic wonder engraved in the letters of music. I pause as I survey the faces starring thoughtfully into my face. Music, I continued in a rising tone, heals the soul , the mind, and the body. I gulp the palmwine for the second time as my throat is getting dry.
On a certain day a dispute ensued, each crossroad claimed individual supremacy, the day turned into night. This ate so deeply into their hearts that they went into bloody wars as the thirst for power suppressed the cry of reason, religion, and culture which had in time past formed their slogan "I am because you are". Aah! exclaimed the children, each overwhelmed with emotions and pity. Their symbol of unity has been altered and every man faced himself alone. They turned the hands of religion, culture, and reason to elements of war- a very different agenda altogether. Each took pride in his livestock, farm produce, and his strength. All traces of humanity, empathy, and compassion were burnt down by the thirst for power.
Along these happenings rumours came from other lands to them of a ravaging plague killing scores of humanity. Yet, when the drum of unity sounded and the trumpet of war was blown, no one answered because no one remembered, and the fire of the plague burned.

https://theculturetrip.com/africa/articles/why-the-djembe-drum-is-one-of-south-africas-most-important-instruments/n a twinkle of an eye a giant was reduced to a limping dwarf. And the beauty of nature soiled because it had seen too much flesh and blood than it could swallow. It wailed for it could take no further.
Suddenly, I said with a pitched monotone, the scales fell from their eyes, they had let a stranger take their life blood, the bond of their existence, and there they laid at the verge of desolation. They sought among themselves solutions to defeat their common enemy - the plague. But first they rose and built themselves for they were broken. The slogan suddenly made sense, for if they had not experienced it the lesson would have been a billion miles away from being learnt. "I am because you are". Together they reasoned; we compliment each other, fight for each other, help each other when we fall. And most importantly this is the back-bone of our very existence. For without it, we are void of essence. Of what use then is man, if he takes pride in himself and lets others suffer to their last breathe? Then man is no longer human, but a beast.
By this time my audience has been increased by the presence of parents and youths who seemed to have been drawned to my story by some unknown forces. I continued, a man's wisdom is not measured by grey hair, but by his ability to handle and contain history to ensure the same does not repeat itself , for the enemy has no face, yet it knows our faces and will always strike our unity. I stood up and walked slowly away leaving everyone drowned in thoughts.

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