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| Photo culled from ** |
Chapter Two (2)
“Knowledge is like a garden; if it is not
cultivated; it cannot be harvested”
“Koko! Great Koko!!
Koko, the great wise old man” Dagar shouted at the top of his voice the
traditional greeting by all those who sought the counsel of the Great Koko.
“Koko! Great Koko!! The
Great wise old Koko, keeper of secrets, Guardian of Benda, Dagar son of Degar
seeks your good counsel. Show yourself wise one…” Dagar added, striking
continuously the gong in his left hand with a stick, singing the
fortune-teller’s praises.
But there was no reply.
Taking off his shoes, bag and sword, Dagar walked into Koko’s compound making
his way to the centre of the compound, where a lonely thatched roof hut, beaten
by age and time alike, stood amid the mystery that shrouded the milieu. Manning
the entrance into the old man’s lair were huge earthen pots each the size of a
seven year-old child. Dagar peered around once again but there was no one in
sight. Tired and drenched with sweat, Dagar pushed closer a stool and sat on it
to catch his breath while awaiting Koko’s return.
*
Before long, the cousin of death swooped in on him, flying off with his
mind and soul to the land beyond the sun and mortal comprehension. It was there
he met with the sage whose counsel he desperately sought. Dagar began the chant
all over again,
“Koko, Keeper of secrets, Guardian of Benda, I
greet you. I am the son of Degar, Dagar the warrior of Benda I seek your good
counsel.”
Koko shook his head
gently and grabbed his staff; with it he struck Dagar on the head, right on the
imaginary line that divides every man’s head in two. Fortune tellers, witches,
wizards and sorcerers call it the thin line between commonsense and
foolishness. Dagar protested reaching for the left side of his waist. But it
was not there.
Koko laughed out aloud,
“Dagar, the true
warrior!” He voiced mockingly. Sensing he erred, Dagar fell on his knees as a
sign of submission.
“Great wise one. I
seek…” he stuttered.
“I know what you seek.
The gods tell me what is in your path. Your wife bears a child drawn from the
waters of the gods and the earth of the forest”
Dagar shook his head
obediently listening with keen interest.
“Fear not great
warrior. But fear Dagar…” Dagar’s gaze widened. After a long silence, he began,
“The child she bears will bring you great fortune…” He paused, thought a little
longer, and then rose in earth-shattering rage bellowing, “Get away from here
son of Degar. Seeking to reap where you did not sow. Arrogant toad, dead
spirits, cast…ssh!” His voice dried up slowly and the old man fell into the
grey cold tender arms of slumber; muttering inaudible curses that Dagar could
not comprehend.
Dagar woke up and
walked slowly to the mouth of the path that led into Koko’s abode and dusted
off his feet as was customary. Still confused and angry, the warrior slipped on
his shoes, bag strap and the sheath of his sword, and went home in the silence
known only by a man who is lost.