Ukukoro

There are certain stories that do not make sense but I just love to hear them; some may refer to them as stupid stories, they could be but who cares? I will listen with rapt attention while they are being  told and it is scary sometimes but I cannot help myself.

I come from a very remote part of Abia State, it is remote because we still do have light, you still find a lot of mud houses with roofs made from straw, people still depend on streams for water and you will still find women who tie only wrapper on the chest to the market. The church is still referred to as “mison” i.e mission.

People still walk long distances to farms, the markets and the churches, there are few vehicles and a few bikes and I have simply not seen any keke napep there, maybe there are a few now, who knows?

Each village has its own stream and there are usually myths around them, I love to believe those stories and even when I think it sounds superfluous or ridiculous, believing them makes me interested in them; I don’t want to lose interest.

My own village stream is called “Ukukoro”, of course “Ukukoro” has a deity that is worshipped by some people; yes we still have idol worshippers in my little town of Lokpanta. (Evangelisers please take note)

No one goes to that stream after a certain time because it is believed that the person may disappear. But thinking deeply about it and asking a few questions, I believe that the reason behind it is that a lot of people were captured for slavery along the pathway to the stream at a certain time back in the days and the time was usually between 12noon and 4pm.

There is a small river before the almighty Ukokoro, this river is like a servant to the Ukukoro, you have to wade through it to get to the main stream. While wading the river, you see fishes move freely and you begin to wonder why there are so many fishes and they are not scared of being caught; the answer is quite farfetched, you dare not hunt any animal in Ukukoro’s territory, if you do, there are repercussions. There are monkeys there too, which a lot of people claim to have been attacked by. The monkeys too cannot be hunted and you also do not attempt to kill a snake there; all the animals belong to Ukukoro and are all protected.

When you finally get to Ukukoro, you certainly would be amazed by God’s creation, flowing into the stream is very clean water which source is not known, you just see the water but no one has dared cross over to that other side of the stream to see the source of the water fountain.  The water is clean and clear and the villagers drink it straight up, no boiling and no filtering. Just pour into the “ite mmiri” (clay water pot) this clay pot gives the water flavour and keeps it cool, the experience is out of this world.

But then, there is one more rule to keep at the Ukukoro, you must fetch water with the local bowl called “obara” made from a particular produce of a tree. I call it produce because it is not a fruit, it cannot be eaten, it just grows big and round like watermelon and it is green. It is usually cracked open and separated into two, the insides removed and the two sides kept away to be dried by the sun. It turns brown when it is dry. That is the only thing allowed to go in the water. There is a belief that if anyone tried to dip any other type of bowl or a bucket into the stream, that Ukukoro would certainly pull the person into the water and it would be the end of that person. Never to be seen again; taken by Ukukoro. (Again, I think it was the villagers' way of keeping the water clean) I am sure that they had to come up with some scary story that would deter people from polluting the water. I chose to believe the pulling in one. Lol

Also when provoked, Ukukoro gets angry and dries up, I have seen this happen and the villagers suffer at this time; they trek very far in search of water in other villages. Before Ukukoro comes up again, a lot of sacrifices would have been made to appease it. ( I am sure science must have an explanation for the drying up)

I know all about this stream and many other facts about my hometown that I am proud of myself. My parents made sure that we were grounded in things about our community, I did not understand it then but now I do and I am grateful for the effort that they made.

I will also tell you about our Otiudu Market, the shrine that is close to my father’s house, the unpopular well, the strange people of the mountain and the attempt at digging a borehole by a particular government agency.

You may be wondering why I chose to write about this and I’ll tell you why. Do your children know where they come from? What do they know about their place of origin? Are they proud of their heritage?

Not having an identity leads to lack of self confidence which could pose a problem later in life. It is never too late, teach your children about their culture, their people and their heritage, but that is only if you know.