Legend has it that with the invasion of the Spaniards into Venezuelan lands, many indigenous communities went into the jungle to protect themselves from that latent threat that brought with it death in all its dimensions, the Warao indigenous people was one of the cultures that I look for as escape route to the Orinoco Delta.
The Orinoco River with its torrents of water allowed to give shelter and security to these numerous families of Indians who little by little were populating their hillsides and villages, the inflow of these waters flowing into the Pacific Ocean allowed to be navigable by boats, schooners, sloops and Canoes that were common back then.
A cacique whom they called Kaidamo in Warao language, formed a community in which he was their leader, had the total domination of the entire population, owed him respect and obedience, this privilege allowed him to have more than one wife, among some of them There was a very young woman with magnificent features and jet black hair, dark as night.
The name of this beautiful Indian was "Imaya", which in warao means, as the night, Kaidamo, had enabled several warriors to provide security to the entire community including their wives in private, in that sense had ordered exclusively to take care, monitor and protect his younger wife Imaya.
One day the wisiratu, who was the Cacique's counselor, doctor and sorcerer, had revealed an omen to him from a dream he had had the night before, suggested that he be in the jungle for five days in a row to counteract that strange prophecy that He approached his family, being necessary to pay homage to the spirits of the jungle.
One afternoon Imaya manages to deceive the warriors who served as guard in the Cacique's quarters, and embarks on her journey down the river relieving her sadness for being imprisoned, tears in her eyes sprang from the anguish of not continuing to live that way, she wanted to be free , walk without fear and without anxiety of being watched.
At a distance from their journey they enjoyed the song of the macaws, toucans and other birds that they found in their way, at that moment they felt happy observing on the horizon the tricolor flocks of herons, citrons and parrots, it was a wonderful scene that very few Sometimes his eyes could admire that paradisiac place.
The charm offered by that evening was not long; when suddenly an image of a crystalline-looking man begins to emerge from the water a few meters from where the beautiful Imaya was, petrified and unable to move, she felt a panic that slowly took over her entire body, she could not pronounce a word any.
Faced with this event hills his eyes commending themselves to the spirits of their ancestors, a mysterious voice made her react "come, do not be afraid" I could not believe what I had just heard, the mysterious character appeared extended his hands in an invitation, which In turn, he made the beautiful Indian feel no fear.
The mysterious voice was heard again for the second time "I am Okarima spirit of water, do not fear" Imaya agreed to his invitation taking him from his hand, his bare feet were standing on the water, slowly he was submerging until the water hidden his beautiful Black jet hair, his emotion grew more when he felt he could breathe underwater.
Without uttering a word I enjoy the most beautiful landscapes I have ever seen, Okarima's company filled him with security and courage during the ride offered, at some point he thought it was a dream, touched his hands squeezing several times and found that everything What was happening to him was reality.
The spirit of the water felt the passion and freedom that the lovely native woman longed for, this time her voice felt more natural when asked; Do you want to live in this world? Imaya without thinking much answered him; Yes, I want to live here forever! Fascinated, I watch as her body transforms little by little and her mind connects to Okarima.
From that moment Imaya leaves instead on the surface of the river turned into tonina, what some call dolphins, the Warao tell that at the moment of being born the young cry like new born children, this to remember that at some point it was a beautiful india.
This History compiled by the Msc. Cesar Antonio Zambrano.