—
MAMA KOKO AND THE SLAVE
In the old village of Oru, where the baobab trees whispered secrets to the wind, lived Mama Koko—the wise old healer whose spirit was older than the hills. People said she carried the stories of a thousand ancestors in the lines of her palms.One dusty harmattan morning, the villagers found a young man lying weak near the riverbank, his wrists scarred and his ankles chained. He had escaped from a distant land where he had been taken as a slave.The villagers feared trouble.“If we help him, his captors will come for us,” some whispered.Others shook their heads.
“He is not our trouble. Let him go his way.”But Mama Koko stepped forward, her wrapper fluttering like the wings of a wise bird.“No one is born a slave,” she said softly. “It is the world that tries to bind a free spirit. Bring him to my hut.”Reluctantly, the villagers obeyed–
HEALING THE BROKEN
For days, Mama Koko treated the young man—whose name was Jabari. She fed him pepper soup spiced with uziza leaves, rubbed herbal balms on his wounds, and taught him words in her language.
“Your body was tied,” she told him one night, “but your spirit
—
Mama Koko and the Slave
In the old village of Oru, where the baobab trees whispered secrets to the wind, lived Mama Koko—the wise old healer whose spirit was older than the hills. People said she carried the stories of a thousand ancestors in the lines of her palms.
One dusty harmattan morning, the villagers found a young man lying weak near the riverbank, his wrists scarred and his ankles chained. He had escaped from a distant land where he had been taken as a slave.
The villagers feared trouble.
“If we help him, his captors will come for us,” some whispered.
Others shook their heads.
“He is not our trouble. Let him go his way.”
But Mama Koko stepped forward, her wrapper fluttering like the wings of a wise bird.
“No one is born a slave,” she said softly. “It is the world that tries to bind a free spirit. Bring him to my hut.”
Reluctantly, the villagers obeyed.
—
Healing the Broken
For days, Mama Koko treated the young man—whose name was Jabari. She fed him pepper soup spiced with uziza leaves, rubbed herbal balms on his wounds, and taught him words in her language.”Your body was tied,” she told him one night, “but your spirit still roars like a lion.”Slowly, Jabari stood again—strong, proud, and grateful.—
WHEN THE RAIDERS RETURN
Weeks later, drums thundered from the edge of the forest. A band of slave raiders marched in, weapons glinting. Their leader shouted:“We know you hide a runaway! Bring him out, or your village burns!”Fear swept through Oru like dry grass catching fire.But Mama Koko stepped forward alone, her staff glowing faintly with carved ancient symbols.
“You come with iron and wickedness,” she said. “I stand with the ancestors.”The raiders laughed—until the wind began to swirl.The baobab trees trembled.
Dust rose in twisting circles.
The ground cracked like thunder.Mama Koko struck her staff on the earth.
“Enough!”
A roar erupted—a spirit wind so fierce the raiders were thrown off their feet. Their torches died. Their courage scattered like chickens before a hawk. Terrified, they fled into the forest and never returned to Oru again.—
A NEW BEGINNING
After peace returned, Jabari knelt before Mama Koko.”Let me serve you for saving my life.”But she lifted his chin gently.”You were not saved to serve. You were saved to soar.
Go, find your people. Build your own destiny.”The young man wept with gratitude. Before he left, he planted a young iroko tree behind Mama Koko’s hut.”This tree will grow in your honor,” he said, “as I will grow in my freedom.”Years later, Jabari returned—not as a slave, but as a leader, bringing gifts, knowledge, and peace between villages.And the iroko tree behind Mama Koko’s hut had grown tall, strong, and proud—just like the man she had helped set free.
—
MORAL OF THE TALE
Compassion is stronger than fear.A single act of courage can break chains that have held generations.Those who help the broken often raise future leaders.still roars like a lion.”Slowly, Jabari stood again—strong, proud, and grateful–When the Raiders Returned Weeks later, drums thundered from the edge of the forest. A band of slave raiders marched in, weapons glinting. Their leader shouted:
“We know you hide a runaway! Bring him out, or your village burns!”
Fear swept through Oru like dry grass catching fire.
But Mama Koko stepped forward alone, her staff glowing faintly with carved ancient symbols.“You come with iron and wickedness,” she said. “I stand with the ancestors.”The raiders laughed—until the wind began to swirl.
The baobab trees trembled.
Dust rose in twisting circles.
The ground cracked like thunder.
Mama Koko struck her staff on the earth.
“Enough!”
A roar erupted—a spirit wind so fierce the raiders were thrown off their feet. Their torches died. Their courage scattered like chickens before a hawk. Terrified, they fled into the forest and never returned to Oru again.
—
A New Beginning
After peace returned, Jabari knelt before Mama Koko.
“Let me serve you for saving my life.”
But she lifted his chin gently.
“You were not saved to serve. You were saved to soar.
Go, find your people. Build your own destiny.”
The young man wept with gratitude. Before he left, he planted a young iroko tree behind Mama Koko’s hut.
“This tree will grow in your honor,” he said, “as I will grow in my freedom.”
Years later, Jabari returned—not as a slave, but as a leader, bringing gifts, knowledge, and peace between villages.
And the iroko tree behind Mama Koko’s hut had grown tall, strong, and proud—just like the man she had helped set free.
—
Moral of the Tale
Compassion is stronger than fear.
A single act of courage can break chains that have held generations.
Those who help the broken often raise future leaders.
