THE RIVER OF WHISPERS

MAMA KOKO AND THE RIVER OF WHISPERS

Long ago, in a quiet village tucked between rolling hills, there flowed a river the people called Oshe Nwata — the River of Whispers. No one knew why it whispered, but they all agreed on one thing:Only the wise should approach it.And there was no one wiser than Mama Koko.One dry season, the river began to shrink. Fish disappeared, the banks cracked open, and the villagers grew afraid. “If the river dries completely,” the elders said, “our farms will die. Our children will starve.”So they called on Mama Koko.With her walking stick carved from iroko wood and her wrapper tied tightly around her waist, Mama Koko marched toward the river. As she arrived, the whispers grew louder—soft voices rising from the water, like secrets floating on the breeze.  “Return what was taken…” the river murmured.
“Return what was taken…”

Mama Koko knelt and listened. “Taken? By who?” she whispered back.Suddenly, from behind a rock, a figure stepped out—the River Boy, a mischievous spirit with skin the color of moonlit water. He confessed that a greedy fisherman had stolen the Calabash of Flow, a magical gourd that controlled the river’s strength.Without it, the river was dying.

Mama Koko nodded. “Lead me to the thief.”They traveled deep into the forest, where they found the fisherman hiding the glowing calabash in a pit. He trembled when he saw Mama Koko.”Why do you steal what belongs to everyone?” she asked.“I wanted the river to obey me alone,” he admitted.Mama Koko tapped her staff on the ground. A warm gust of wind swirled around them. “The river serves all, not one. And greed dries even the deepest waters.”The fisherman returned the calabash to Mama Koko, who carried it to the river’s heart. When she set it gently on the surface, the water swirled, shimmered, and suddenly—ROARED back to life.The river grew wide again. Fish leaped. The banks turned green. And the villagers danced with joy. From that day, whenever anyone approached River Oshe Nwata, they heard not whispers of warning, but whispers of gratitude:

“Mama Koko… keeper of balance… friend of the river…”