Image source: Geograph
Warm winds from the north ruffled the elephant grasses along the windy path, heralding the evening’s slow but inevitable arrival. The sun ignored the winds, his face brimming with smiles at the camaraderie expressed by the two travellers on the lonely path. The two travellers were different in many ways yet they walked as one, talking about everything in general and nothing in particular. It was a sight the sun wanted to remember while it had its night rest.
One of the traveller was the sight of a young man cursed to age faster than others. His gait was belaboured by the burden he bore on his back; a burden he and his kind was cursed to bare for life. Some would say it was a blessing but that’s another story. He measured his steps, making up for his slow pace by the continuous out-pour of jokes, jests and ramblings that drew delight from the prickly face of his companion.
His companion was a short springily fellow, who kept a measured distance from him. There were quills on his back. He was not the time people associated with for fear of the pricks on his back. However, the other traveller felt protected by his burden and often collided with him as they traversed the narrow path.
As if signalled by an unheard trumpet, the grasses began to quiver, their fright expressed in their hasty fluttering. The wind began to gather, forcing stones and dusts and twigs to levitate in its wake, consuming all in its path. The sun knew what was coming and hid its face behind the clouds as a little schoolboy would scurry behind his mother when he sensed danger.
In the absence of the sun, the wind grew bolder. It formed a small whirlpool that grew as it approached the travellers on whose faces some invisible had painted a dark shade of fright. Just as it seemed the wind would force a path between them, it stopped. A creature stepped out of the whirlpool. It was Agwu, the Igbo trickster god.
“What do we have here? A tortoise and a porcupine travelling together?” Agwu asked in jest as his laughter rattled the earth. “I would curse you guys with madness but I’m in need of assistance. If you guys help me, I would bless you with wisdom beyond measure. If you don’t, I would curse you and you offspring with madness. You see, I am thirsty and I want a drink from the Otamiri River. I want one of your to give me a lift to the river by carrying me on his back.”
The two travellers looked at themselves and then at Agwu with dread in their eyes.
“Great Agwu,” The tortoise began, “My grandfather told me a lot about you. You are greatly reverend among my kind. I would carry you to the river but I fear that would not help as I am very slow due to the burden my kind have been cursed with.”
“Great Agwu. I would also carry you but as you can see, my back is riddled with quills. It would not be a comfortable journey.” The porcupine added, seeing as the tortoise deflected responsibility.
“You fools! I would make you all go mad if I don’t get a drink from the Otamiri River!” There was thunder in Agwu’s voice.
“I have a plan!” The tortoise announced with a shaky voice. “Why don’t you carry me,”he began as he turned to the porcupine, “and I would carry Agwu. You cannot hurt me due to my shell.”
“I have a better plan. The quills on my back are no ordinary quills. If you pluck one of them and make a wish, the wish would come to pass. The only condition is that you have to close your eyes while making the wish.” The porcupine countered after thinking for a while.
The faint smile on Agwu’s face was made even brighter by the porcupine’s suggestion. He plucked one of the porcupine’s quill and the tortoise did the same. The tortoise wished for a safe trip while Agwu prayed from the satisfying taste of the water from the Otamiri River.
While the two creatures were engrossed in making their wishes, the porcupine snatched the quill from the tortoise and drove it into the flesh of his neck. He cupped Agwu’s hands under the flow of rushing blood. Agwu thought the gurgling sound was from the small water fall at the river. He put his hands to his lip and tasted blood. His anger boiled but a god could not turn down blood. He finished the blood on his hands and turned to lash at the porcupine.
The porcupine was already far way off, running as fast as he could, knowing Agwu would not be pleased with the trick he just played on him. Behind him, he heard Agwu lash out at him and threaten to deal with him but he had no fear in his heart. Agwu had drank a tortoise’s blood. He would be as slow as a tortoise. The only thing on his mind were the favourite words of his father:
If you cannot please the gods, trick them.