?aiasha The Singing Bird And Her Friends?


From where you stand, you would think Aiasha stoops on a scudding ice berg as she sings. Her melodious voice pierces the vault of heavens like the quivering of a violin. She looms, obviously emerging to a clearly sight, and you now just find out she’s leaning on Boubo.

Lean on me
when you’re not strong,
I’ll be your friend
I’ll help you carry on
for it will be long,
till am gonna need
Somebody to lean on

You see Big Boubo, revels Aiasha, “It so solemnly strikes my sweet soul on the, ‘lean on-carry on-, be long-, to lean on’ each time I sing this sweet song.

“That’s alliteration and pun and alliteration all through Aiasha” said Boubo.

Thanks for the compliments. I guess the artist must have been a sentimental poet.

The song still hums in resonance. “I always feel celestially uplifted at it and I fly without wings each moment I know it applies to us because we’re friends.”

I doubt it Aiasha. You’ve always flown on your wings. {Chuckles} Well, I must thank you for being always there for me.

You’re a great friend Boubo. I wonder what life could’ve been without you baby.


Ok. Boubo baby boy!

Nice beautiful birdie baby. Could you try a little assonance next time?

A lill’assonace next time?

Ya, next time, any time, time time. And now is the time. My father used to say, that the beginning of tomorrow is today, and my fatty momma says, {moving in sway to imitate her}, “one step at a time, do what you can do today and never say I can’t do it, unless you’ve tried to do it and tried well enough.

“Alright sweetie” thinking thoughtfully, “let me try, but e-m—can I recite Ostar’s Graceful Night. You see, the sun is setting in splendour still…..

Na-na-naaaa buddy! Ostar has done it for himself there and erected himself a statue here. When we do whatever we can do well enough, we erect our statues and we live memorably ever after. You can do it ok. Just believe you can and no matter how little. What’s important is how well.

Oh Boubo you drive me crazy with your inspirational words. Give me a big hug, big heart, a lo-ve-lieee biggie-huggie sweetie.

Aiasha skids to Boubo’s bosom and hugs him the much her fingers could go.

I just feel like staying here forever, there’s a comeliest warmth here my dear!

A big shot Aiasha, you make me jumpy by this bill and coo. However I like the last part, “….like staying here forever, there’s a comeliest warmth here my dear! A-L-L-I-T-RA-T-I-O-N!

Oh my God, really?

Yeah buddy!

Never knew, well, I would love to do it consciously purposeful.

Oops, consciously purposeful? Where did you get that?

Right from my heart, it just rings and that’s how I feel getting something rightly done, you know. Ok. Hold your breath ‘am coming out consciously purposeful.

Ok. Alright ‘am holding it on.

Sleep deep sweet heart
Of bliss and peace tonight
The spoils for our toils is rest
Till the morn dawns in blest

Oh my God, oh my God it just rolled. Can’t believe it. Am done Boubo! Heaved Aiasha satisfactorily.

Do you know what!


You’re ingenious and I bet you, you’ve just recorded a poetic monument a-n-d what’s the title?

E-m, let me seee…Nightie Nightie. Na! It’s Good Night. I prefer Good Night to Nightie Nightie. It’s Good Night Boubo, it’s Good Night. It’s Good Night ok.

By now the nightly darkness has descended upon earth. Every creature has gone in except for the nocturnal ones that have just woken up either to walk, stalk or work. The darkness now talks:

Hey Aiasha, what was that you said is the title of Nightie Nightie? Blurred the sleepy elephant.

Don’t tell me you were somnambulating while i was reciting, Boubo. It’s Good Night Boubo!

Thanks Sweetie. Good night too Aiasha. I love you.

With a gentle slump, Boubo slumps in slumber.

Hey Boubo stop, stop, stop it. I didn’t mean good night, i meant Good Night. Don’t just sleep, but stay up a little while. Let’s eeem, {looking to the moonlit golden sky} do the game of the sky, like counting the stars, chasing the moon, orrrrr…..ok. Boubo wants to sleep. Shssssssssss! Let somebody not wake him up. Ok Boubo sleep. Sleep Boubo ok. I’ll sing you a lullaby to dream sweet dreams. I love you too Boubo, though I wish you were awake with me, but good night with Good Night.


Sleep deep sweet heart
Of bliss and peace tonight
The spoils of our toils is rest
Till the morn dawns in blest

At length the melodious serene sound gives way subtly as sleep scoops Aiasha away too to a wonderful world of dreams. Soon the morning breaks with beauteous buds of flowers unfolding. Leaves glistening at the touch of the tender morning sun smiling on their dew-drops. Sweet fragrances intermingle with gentle breeze as it combs the trees and their boughs. The morning rendition of the birds’ choirs echoing the beauty of life as…..

Oh my God and the good morning my good God… as Aiasha wakes up.

Is it morning?

Yeah, wake up and see All Things Bright and Beautiful!

All things are bright and beautiful, whispers Boubo. “Aiasha, Aiasha….

Ya baby

Look at me in the eyes

Ok. There my eyes gooooo

I don’t want to regret never ever have told you. All things are bright and beautiful to me because you are my friend. You have been so lovely and most caring. I love you Aiasha.

Aiasha clasps her fingers over her chest and weeps joyfully. Her eyes closed as she asks.

Why do you love me Boubo?

I do because you are Aiasha.

Oh my God! Whispers Aiasha. You’re the best thing Boubo that has ever happened in my life. You are my angel Boubo. I thank God we’re friends and Boubo all things are bright and beautiful today and always because you’re always there for me. I love you Boubo.

You’re most highly welcome sweetie. Is morning time and let’s get back to work. Grandpa says you wake up with the morn, work with the sun, and then rest with the moon.

Oh my God it rolls. I bet you it does. Just like that: with the morn, with the sun, with the moon. It really rolls Boubo.

Thanks. That was my grandee. So, let’s do what we should do.



And what’s the concept Aiasha?

Diligence to the end!

Come o on!

They shake hands and legs in a most stylish way and bombom too. Aiasha falls headlong, chuckles and stands to clap of her hands. Then, they set out to work. Boubo pulls some logs of wood and begins to fix a hut. Aiasha gathers reeds and leaves to make a nest. Diligence! And dutifully they work and work. Aiasha working skilfully and painstakingly as her nest takes a highly net-worked L shape. Boubo hums indistinctly. Aiasha pleased with her work slides in and out and in and out again. Boubo’s hut is ready too. Aiasha lands.

What a monumental edifice you’ve got here Boubo!


Oh my God, it’s amazing!

Well, I appreciate, but I bet you Aiasha. Your hut…. Wait a minute. I mean your nest is a fantastic artifice. Can’t help staring at it.

Thanks Boubo.

Thanks too Aiasha.

Aiasha jumps on Boubo’s face and hugs him. Meanwhile at the background, it seems to be that, ‘There’s Fire on the Mountain’ for everyone is on the run! Every wings and legs are either reinforcing or building a shelter against the heavy pregnant gloomy cloud, but the Tortoise and his kinsmen.

“Hai shelly Buddies, just hold firm your shells and ignore the crying clouds. We can’t cringe ok. If it floods eventually and you sail, say ha-ll-ooooo to our Tortleton families wherever; but whatever, let hope not die in you before you die. Till then, go about your abnormal business, though every control is under alarm, but whatever ever happens, that’s the destiny”.

So and so happens as Okirah dashes in hurriedly in a dazzling iridescent plumage.

Hey hey hey Juliet! Enough of that kissie kissie and come over here and help me fix something!

Aiasha and Boubo are embarrassed at Okirah’s rudeness and lack of courtesy. She stands aloft in pride on a tree branch waiting for Aiasha to come over.

Em, good day Okirah, and how do you do? Boubo said courteously.

Ah! Did anything speak right now? Okirah said contemptibly, displaying her most colourful feathers.

Oh my God! ‘Am sorry Boubo. Never mind, I’ll settle it ok.

Settle my foot, you love-stricken insignificant creatures! Will you or not help me fix a nest Aiasha?

Boubo rises furiously and makes for the tree on which Okirah perches. Aiasha sticks her sticky legs on the ground and wedges Boubo back. Her legs making a parallel furrow forward.

Hey Boubo stop it Boubo. Boubo stop. Okirah isn’t worth the sweat! Aiasha pleads. Please ‘am sorry, ‘am sorry, and ‘am so sorry.

At this, Aiasha breaks up, hangs it up and sits on Boubo’s foot to weep. Boubo now stops to console her

‘Am sorry too Aiasha. I didn’t mean to hurt you sweetie

Sweeeee….. what? Snaps Okirah.

Is ok sweet heart. Ok just do it as you want it; concedes Boubo.

Oh dear buddy Boubo! Thanks, but that’s Shakespeare. No, William’s, “As You Like It”. Alright. Thanks as I would want it. Ok Okirah, i’m coming over at once without my tears again.

With or without whatever, I don’t care. Okirah chirrups, preening herself.

So sweet a sass. Whispers Boubo disapprovingly.

Ok Okirah, let me see your reeds and leaves, Aiasha demands with tears.

Reeds and weeds? Sorry I came with none and how dare you think I would carry such dung along!

Am sorry….

Sorry my foot, and use your stuff. Okirah cracks

Oh my God….

Aiasha is at the verge of throwing in the sponge. Her heart throbs. Aiasha’s heart is breaking. In a jiffy a text flashes on her from one of the literatures she read, “…. to ignore and despise an injury or calumny is a far more effectual remedy than resentment, fighting and revenge.” So she sets out consciously purposeful, dutifully bold, and decisively revealing the cuts, the joints and the strokes of a perfect nest.

Next is the winding and the basketing. And at the same time you bear the L-concept consciously purposeful in your mind as you knit….

So what’s the crazy concept? Queries Okirah uninterestedly

…. So that when tightly tied and hung inversely, neither wind nor storm can sunder your slumber or saunter.

Wait, wait-wait-wait, save your breath. Just hold it there, ‘am done with it. Have learnt it, have learnt it, and have learnt it more than you do. So just hand it over to me, ‘am gone. Splutters Okirah irritably and most indignantly.

All the while, Boubo stoops downwards moping upwards at the drama of the tree.

What a little beautiful beast! Thinks Boubo silently

A little more, Okirah please. I love you Okirah, a little more of the tutorial on the basketing please. I wouldn’t want you to be shut off and out in the wind or rain, i lo….

Love my foot Aiasha. You think ‘i’m that cheap eh? Stay clear out of me and…. Well, well, well thanks for nothing anyway. Of course i could just make this in a straight blow so don’t swell your head you’ve done something laudable ok. Okirah brags.

Braggadocio! Whispers Boubo.

Okirah I don’t mean…. I mean you’ve just got a weapon here. Is suicidal to think you’ve got a nest. That’s half-baked Okirah. A little more patience please, let’s at least make a short L of it.

Count me out of it. And if you’re thinking of keeping me in this stinking place any longer, forget it!

With this Okirah veers off and disappears in the thick air of the dark cloudy rumbling sky.

Oh my God, oh my God, Boubo Okirah’s gone, she’s gone, O dear she’s done too” mourns Aiasha.

“He who is hasty is in danger of stumbling and hurting his foot” mumbles Boubo as he still looks pityingly at Okirah’s shadow in the air.

That’s Solomon’s proverb, but dear my heart is so broken. Why me, why me Boubo. She’s so beautiful, and if only she were also amiable, she would pass for a benign goddess”. Dreams Aiasha.

What’s ‘amiable’ Aiasha?

It’s being cheerful and friendly, and good-natured and good-humoured just like you Boubo. Just being nice, you know.

You’re just saying it Aiasha. I feel greatly flattered!

No buddy, you’ve been more a friend than words could say, a congenial companion.

And turning to where you stand as if speaking to you she says,

You see oh dear buddy, Boubo would say no to Aiasha if Aiasha tends to be stupid, and Boubo gives Aiasha a big sweetie huggie hug if Aiasha does a thing well!

Besides Aiasha makes me more to believe in myself, that I can do and not that I can’t, that ‘i am strong and not weak, that ‘i am brainy and not a dunce, that i am beautiful and not ugly. Above all she says that three elements constitute the word, ‘Friendship’. The middle ‘end’ like virtue is the most important and deserves definition from the out set. When the end is good, we can through the last ‘Ship’ sail safely with mast of sincere faithfulness over the storms of the first ‘Frailty’ to a congenial companionship. You see, i still ponder on these wonders as i waddle and wander where and how my dear Aiasha came by these…..

Boubo is still talking to you when Aiasha screams to him.

Boubo, watch your baaa-ck!

My back? He turns fear-stricken.

Na. your trunk Boubo. Back off to your shelter. The storm is come! Aiasha quivered.

They scurry to the safety of their shelters as the rains let loose in torrents and pellets of ice-drop. Thunders are drumming within the wombs of the clouds, often coughing out fiery sparks like cannon balls. The lightning brandishes strokes of flashes hither and yon. The winds are awoken from slumber and in irritation they sweep everything they can lay hands on in a furious gust!

Is a tempest Aiasha. Hold the fort and be strong! Trumpets Boubo.

Ok Boubo. Be strong too and don’t jump out of your skin. Errr- and know that Shakespeare wrote The Tempest. I guess it is the second to the last of his plays.

Yoh Aiasha. I ponder and wonder if some one is somewhere writing on this one now.

Perhaps a wanderer might do it. Aiasha suggests

Or a hunter says Boubo.

They laugh as the rainy darkness thickens. Is now far into the night. You can hear Boubo snoring away peacefully, but Aiasha is not sleeping. Aiasha is crying and praying.

Oh my good God please keep Okirah safe wherever the storm buffets her. May she neither be strangled nor drowned. Oh my dear God i love Okirah. She’s so beautiful and queenly, just a little rude, but i believe she will grow out of it. Can’t hate her please save Okirah oh darling God. I know you’ve got to save her because you’ve got to save her because you’ve got the whole world in your hands. Promise me you will, just a little more promise….

Turning to Boubo

Hey Boubo are you there? Are you there, are you….? Em, do you remember where it says, “Be still and know that I am God?” do you Boubo? Dooo, or are you stilled already? Oh Boubo is stilled already because he lies down and sleep comes at once. Aiasha too shall be stilled for God of the birds will save Okirah. Hey, everyone I’ve got it. Is Psalm 46. A whole of it, a whole of lot of it and verse ten says it all! Wait; did I say God of the birds? Yeah, i did and it makes a lot of sense, though he’s also God of Boubo and you, you know what i mean. Eehm, let me put it into a kind of song in dedication to my dear Okirah.


I see the trees in sways
In dance of the stormy winds
As noon shuts her smiles
At the claps of the thunders
While the lightning flashes and snaps
The dark crying crawling clouds
The birds holding close their feathers
As their wobbling fluttering nests
Toggled against the tempests
But you little fledging birds
Burn up all the bridges
For God of the beautiful birds
Would the winds ‘neath your wings
When it is o’er with the storms

♥with love, Aiasha

A ghostly dawn succeeds the ghastly night. Wearied of her mournful vigil, Aiasha sleeps of deep still. Floods surging in surfeit and wrecking whatever its razing tongues could lash. Some homeless creatures either hold some standing trees tenaciously or float on logs of woods upon waters. However, floating resignedly upon waters too are Kwubenki, the elder spokesman of the Tortoiton family and few others. Close to him is Mbekwu, ramshackled like an out-done boxer with bumps all over his heads.

Eehm, who there you are, or are you not Mbekwu? Queries Kwubenki drolly.

Wwwwe-ll, i was Mbekwu, but now call me either without ‘m’ or ‘kwu’ preferably without the latter, because the metamorphosis is strictly sinister. He bemoans.

Hey, boy what has come over you? Is that a fit of temper or what? What’s up shelly buddy?

My head! Pointing at the protruded bumps saying, “That’s what’s up boss.”

That’s silly as a wheel boy. Let’s first try to get out of this mess first.

Not at all; not as silly as that boss. Remember that, ‘whatever ever happens, that’s the destiny’, so lets stay till whatever completely happens on us Kwubenki.

Fears grapple the rest at this pessimism and they gawk.

No no no! It has of course dawned on me that Kwubenki makes no meaning again. Though that was my native name, but do spare your breath next time and call me only ‘Kwu.’ Ok. The other suffix is been knocked off too. Gone to the seas!

A haa-awhoo-awhaaa…. Laugh-coughs Mbekwu, holding his etching shell together.

Wait a minute buddy. That’s not all. This is not destiny buddy. It was misleading of me, and gullible of you and us. Just the boomerang buddy and you can put the blame on me buddies.

Yoh boss! Yo yo, i like the last part of your funeral speech. That’s Akon you know, that’s him niggar. That’s the vibes, ‘you can put the blame on me.’ as we die.

I do boy, i do know but let not hope die in you before you die. Don’t you remember or is your brain been knocked off too.

Reverberating instrumentally behind the scene is You Can Put the Blame on Me. Then, unfolding gradually, is the panorama of the wreckage. Ok. Hold your breath because I know what or who your mind is searching for. OKIRAH!

Of course here i am squatting in squalor, be-dra-g-g-l-e-d beyond recognition. Look at me and see if there’s still any Okirah in me. No. nothing! So you may address me therefore as i am now. Irah, Irah! Very much close to ‘irascible’ because that’s what i am. Annoying! An annoying ugly thing, that’s me or don’t i annoy you? Well, I know i do. So remove the first two letters from my name for nothing is ok again with me. Besides, I can’t shout HELP! Somebody h-e-l-p!! Because ‘am annoying.

Like the whispers of a hungry cave, Okirah’s voice echoes in Aiasha’s wearied dream land, ‘HELP! Somebody h-e-l-p!!’ and she starts and pants and scurries off her nest.

‘HELP! Somebody h-e-l-p!!’ certainly no body is somebody but meeeee. So wait Okirah, Aiasha is woken up from thousand slumbers by your voice. Hang on Okirah and don’t hang up ok! Hey, let some other somebody tell Boubo ‘am not shutting him out. Out-out-out in the cold, but will be back. Back-back-back to Bouboooo. Wait a minute that sounds a kind of song. Let’s seeeee- doo reee miiii faaaa-aaalacious! And that means out of place because someone is somewhere right away not singing, and someone has got to put some songs in her, and that’s me. ‘Am the someone and a little help makes the difference. That’s the way of the Lil’Smile buddy. Sparing some seconds starting someone smiling!

At the background, rescue mission is on. All Animalitarian Societies are ‘all hands on deck. Constructions, renovations, rehabilitations are all on at the same time. The sun peeps through the wetted clouds, shivering over the ruins. And like a stage light, it casts prominent rays on Okirah! Aiasha runs by.

Hey! Hi buddy there’s something Okirah about you. Are you or are you not Okirah, Okirah?

It might have been. ‘Am a loser!

Na! Far from it buddy. Losers don’t breathe. Besides, the sun is coming out to burn away the cold and to dry our tears.

Whose cold and tears? Nothing about it is ours, but all mine. Never mind, ‘am breathing my last and don’t care about the sun either.

Is all ours buddy. When one of us is in pain, all of us are in pains. And i do care about you. I love you and i mean it when I say i do.

Tears stream down Okirah’s cheeks.

I was always either too busy for you or too proud because i have beautiful feathers and can fly higher….

Oh my God, Okirah stop, stop, stop, s-t-o-p Okirah!

….but never knew you have a most simple, sincere and scintillating soul! And above all, you have love.

You kill me Okirah. Lean on me first, let me take you home.

Like a soft rising sun, the music Lean on Me reverberates as Aiasha makes to give Okirah a helping hand. Okirah for the first time turns to you with eyes dilating.

Would you rather i did?

Hey buddy. Piggie backie, piggy Okirah lets whoosh.

Okirah still stands bemused when Aiasha scoops her up and off they zoom beneath the tree upon which Aiasha pitches her nest. Boubo watches the oncoming marathon astonishedly.

Hei-hei-hei, hey buddy what’s after you? What has come over you? Or is this an Aiasha-Run-Round sort of game?

Don’t be silly Boubo. It’s Okirah. It’s Okirah that’s over me and not any of your grotesque questions. I’ve got to fix her first, first!

Boubo is at once hurt and his glowing spirit droops. He rises to go.

Oh my God, Boubo! Boubo please don’t walk away. Don’t go please. Good bye isn’t really good when tears fall like rain. Boubo please do stay, for i can’t be Aiasha again if you’re gone.

And when the rain falls and causes floods, someone’s got to be be-dra-ggled! Okirah allergically drooled.

Boubo still walks slowly away.

Boubo tomorrow dies when you walk away and today’s but a gloomy day. I hurt you, and ‘am so sorry. Wouldn’t mean to shout on you, i was only on edge and i….

I was the stinker! Okirah cuts in again droopingly.

Oh my God, Okirah stop please. Boubo I didn’t mean to hurt you. Please stay and tell me you’ve forgiven me, ‘am sorry please….

And he who is hasty is in danger of tumbling his tusks and hoaxing his trumpets. Okirah drools.

Aiasha extends her hands in a miserable gesture, tears trickling and waiting on Boubo to turn back. Suspensefully, Boubo steers around.

Sweetie ‘am so sorry if i have saddened your heart. Friends are forever and i wouldn’t ever turn my back on you again.

I wondered who could’ve been able to pull you out if you fell into the flood as Aiasha did on me. Okirah taunts.

Ignoring Okirah’s post traumatic silly utterances

I believe you Boubo, and if no other one does in the whole wide world, i Aiasha do. I will always stand by you chivalrously as a friend as we walk side by side.

Oh Aiasha, you drive me crazy with your words. Give me a big hug, big heart, a lo-ve-lieee biggie huggie, sweetie.

Ha! I got it. Those are my words. Buddy Boubo and a….

Oh yeah, and a kiss! Okirah pre-empts.

The sun now smiles gracefully, glistening over fields and plains in a bridal brilliance. Birds singing in an orchestrated formation while beautiful butterflies dangle and hover over beauteous flowers. Younger buds peep at their fairy wings, giggling and pushing to blow. The cloud is dry now and crispy in a splendid azure template. And down, down, down, trees, the big no less than the small sway in dance as Aiasha and Boubo titivate and preen Okirah to shine again in sheen! Boubo showers water on Okirah while Aiasha basks too as she washes her. Okirah skips around, gulps water involuntarily and makes off. Boubo fires a small ball of water and shoots her down.

Be-dra-g-g-l-e-d!! Aiasha teases.

Be-dra….Okirah gulps another bout of water and rotates her eyes like a frightened ugly owl

Oh my God. Somebody’s scary! Aiasha pricks.

God my oh! Not more than Boubo’s jumbo park of dung. Okirah cackles pointing at its heap.

Boubo fires more water balls at Okirah. She picks up and dodges craftily till she lands into the dunghill!

Oh my God Boubo! Aiasha faints.

Be-drrrrrrrrrrrrrra-ggled, brrrrrrrrra-gga-do-cio! Okirah simmers in the paste as she splatters the shit all over.

Boubo takes off but stumbles over Aiasha’s foot. Aiasha wakes.

Oh my God, have i missed a thing?

‘Too close a bowling.’ Boubo pants

Okirah emerges in all ridicule. She ‘bla bla bla’ and shouts triumphantly

Wheee! Winners don’t quit and quitters don’t win. Quitters are losers and losers don’t breathe. I breathe. Therefore ‘am not a loser.

Interesting! Mumbles Boubo

Could make up a soulful song, i bet you Boubo

Song? Okirah asks with surprise

Song! Yeah come on buddies, hands in hands, shoulders to shoulders. Though we don’t have our dancing shoes ready, but our dancing steps are providentially with us. So….

So first things first Aiasha. Boubo harks back.

O dear, I almost got it so wrong there. Yeah, first things first. So O….

Kirah is first! Don’t you see it? ‘Am the first, ‘am the winner, ‘am scary or not. I scared off someone’s breath and it was a knock out. I bawled the biggest ball ever with Boubo. That was on the hit too and I errrr of course made a dunk of myself in a basket of dung. It was all me and now, ‘am first again. First on em….? What ‘am i not saying, on em…..em?

On the need that cleanliness is next to godliness. Aiasha garnishes.

Oh godliness? Sheepishes Okirah.

Oh yeah and we will help. The waters are on the way Aiasha, so keep your hands on the plough.

On the plough? No, on the plume. Come then o waters on me and make me washed like the clouds where you come!

Seriously poetic, but not from the skies now. Watch out Okirah. Here it comes! Boubo’s spewing fires of waters.

Fires of waw….

And the water catches up with Okirah’s loquacity. Aiasha washes and cleanses her till she comes anew. Latter, Boubo gathers some sticks and makes a little fire and they set Okirah close to it.

Washing and setting? Okirah broods

Yap yap! Chirrups Aiasha

But why do you Boubo bother about me too?

Because the friends of our friends are our friends

And when one of us is sick, the rest of us are sick. Aiasha twitters

What of when there are fires in the eyes? Okirah muses

Whose eyes?

In your eyes. In both of your beady eyes. I can see fires in your eyes. Besides I can see me too by the fires. Then what of me?

Ooooh, there we go! We sit right there in your eyes by our little fire.

Aiasha turns round and round as would a beautiful maiden in a pretty gown before a mirror, and says

Hello me and Boubo in Okirah’s eyes why do you turn around too and says hello, ‘me and Boubo in Okirah’s eyes?


Really! Boubo assures

Why is it so? Why do i see me in your eyes and you see yourselves in my eyes?

It’s because of Ifunanya. Aiasha says

What’s Iphiyana?

O dear not Ifya or whatever. It’s Ifunanya. It’s a native of Africa, Igbo precisely and literally means ‘to be seen’. It however means love properly.

You see to love someone, one sees another first, beholds that charming qualities in him or her, cherishes them in the heart whereof love comes. Boubo concludes.

And this is why we see ourselves in the eyes of every fellow that we may love all in charity in view of every virtue; and if someone doesn’t mind let’s run around our fire and celebrate our friendship with a song.

So what’s the title of the song, Aiasha?

Fires of Ifunanya! Okirah chirps

Hurray it’s dancing time, so let’s rock and roll it!!!


Like tongues of fires
Hands-in- hands as friends
We whirl round and round and round
In gust like the wind

Shake and shake your tail
And shake off the frail
We might though march our toes
With our dancing shoes

But it does not hurt
When there’s love in the heart
Oh my God and O my dear
Thanks always for being there

In making me live
By showing some love
Here we see us in our eyes
Whirling round Ifunanaya’s Fires

Ifunanya makes our burden light
Ifunanya makes all bright
Ifunanya bears no wrongs
And makes us fly without wings

I might be worthless to some other one
But in my true friends I’ve won
A comely pride of place
In a graceful love and grace

Health and wealth don’t measure
Nor class and beauty sure
All you’ve got is nothing
If your heart is not loving

Oh sweet Ifunanya
Thanks for your Ifunanya
And let the fires burn
And keep on the run

Ifunanya makes flower blossom
At a touch on every bosom
Ifunanya makes life full
Ifunanya makes life beautiful

Thanks for being here
Because you care
Have you felt the heat?
Let’s rock, roll and rock it


Move-roll-roll Boubo
Move-roll-move jumbo
Rock-roll-rock Aiasha
Rock-roll-rock Okirah
O-o-o roll it
Awh, control it
Shake your body
Tubby buddy
Let the fires burn
And keep on the run
If you feel the heat
Roll to the beat
Till sweet sleep
Lures to the deep

Really, they are rocking and rolling it! But the gust and the vigour diminish as earth draws close it curtains of darkness gradually. By now too, the dancing steps come at variance with the dance tune. Boubo is a dancer to watch. He rocks in and out the track, drowsily and dangerously he steers.

Watch it Boubo. Aiasha cautions.

Ya. I watch it!

You watch what, but what do you do and where do go? Alarms Okirah

Nothing. No where. ‘Am only rolling it here as the band rolls.

But we say you control it!

Ya, I control and roll and rock at the same time.

….drowsily and dangerously he steers towards an edge and would crash land at some further steps. Aiasha overtakes him to peep beyond.

Oh my God! She shouts

What’s down Aiasha? Okirah inquires

Rolling off a cliff upon monstrous rocks!!!

Em, well’em, I guess is all rocking.

Stop kidding Okirah! Pull Boubo back by the tail. ‘Am pushing ahead….I mean pushing back by the head. Pushing back, backing push, backing off and backing on.

Ok. All hands on Boubo babe! ‘Am watching my back, but back me up Aiasha.

Alright Okirah, let’s moooove!

‘Am moving- ‘am rolling it. Boubo snores. Virtually enjoying the swing, Aiasha and Okirah pant heavily. Boubo still sways indefinitely to the band. Boubo is heavy and Boubo might not move so long as the band rolls.

Are we or not rocking it? Boubo revels.

That’s the symptom. I bet you everybody. It’s acute somnambulism. I guess it is infectious because I don’t know who’s the somebody pushing me too. Okirah blabbers from bewitchery of sleep.

Stop Okirah and don’t look back when you lay your hands on the Boubo.

Or on the plough? Well, Boubo’s much more a plough now than ever. Whispers Okirah.

Hey. Stop it. You don’t whisper a point when you’ve got one. You assert it ok. And is high time the music stopped. The day is far spent and the night is come to our rest.

Turning to you, still pushing Boubo and panting, she nods in an anticipated affirmation as she asks, ‘Isn’t it true eh? Isn’t it not true buddy? It is t-r-u-e! That’s what ‘am saying pal. Thanks for your perseverance, your affable presence, patience and most congenial companionship thus far. You’re faithful. Thanks too for being there for us. You’re fan-ta-taa-tastic! And turning to the band….meanwhile here is no match to your imagination, not even in its wildest ratiocination! Could you have known that it has been a live band and that the Tortoitons and Tortletons are well represented; if the stage lights are not driven on the background? Mbeku conducts. Kwubenki kicks and dances seriously in the limelight till he lately notices your eyes are fixed on him.

Ah zum zum zum, peew-pawrrr. I got no dance again. He recoils shyly as he drums on his belly pum pum.

Hey! That’s ocules serventes buddy! Yeah, it means serving the eyes, but you shouldn’t….

Yap! You don’t whisper a point when you’ve got one. So, do the dancing the best you can. Okirah cuts Aiasha short.

Of course, do-do-do-dooo whatever you do well, but at the right time most importantly.

And what are we saying Aiasha?

That the spoils of our toil is rest. So let’s give the world a moment of peace and a respite to our body and soul.

Good night everybody till the morn dawns in blest.

So the light begins to dwindle, casting out the gloomy faces of the wearied band crew. Some drunk with sleep drop at spots. Some ridiculously recline on their instruments. A monkey drops her tambourine; sleep-walks to a standing microphone and sleeps off. Dramatically the light fades off with the crashing of the monkey as the pole tinkers away on the stage. The night is dark, but its darkness is graceful. So peace flows like a cave. And like the clinking of fallen icicles from the cave top, Boubo’s voice ruptures the serenity.

Errr, where’s the band?
Rolled off!
And the rest?
Gone to sleep
And you?
Standing by you
Yeah buddy Boubo
Oh my God sweetie sweetie!

Okirah’s mimicry tickles them and they all crackle

Even in darkness i can see light
At night there’s hope of morrow
Of life, of love and of might
In a vessel of friendship to row
Even in the ripples of storm
Love holds us on to the oars
Soaring to sure shore of morn
Of honour and feats and glories

Thanks for being there
With ♥ Aiasha, Boubo & Okirah

14 thoughts on “?aiasha The Singing Bird And Her Friends?” by ostar (@ostar)

  1. Brov…I really think you should try and split your stuff in two. It’ll be a lot more easier and fun to read. For me anyways.

    No offense meant.

  2. Dance of the forests, Palmwine drinkard, Famished road.. These books, I was never able to make sense out of. And your…poem/play/ story, is on top of the list.
    May be you operate in another frequency sha.

  3. @ Kayceeeeeeeeee sorry where did you get them?
    @ Seun you got it?

  4. @ Kaycee would like to know if this is an imposition or compliment
    @ Seun thanks and or scared of the width?

  5. That he wasn’t able to make sense out of the story. Me too.

  6. You show what a philosophical thinker you are. Some of it I understand, but this type requires several reads. Thanks for sharing.

  7. @ lovelineb would sincerely like you to learn that criticism should leave one with the feeling of having been helped and not dragged to the mud. Would you understand what you don’t read if I may ask or like hitting with the club (argumentum ad barculum)?

    “That he wasn’t able to make sense out of the story. Me too.” on Kaycee’s hallucinations? (Dance of the forests, Palmwine drinkard, Famished road.. These books, I was never able to make sense out of. And your…poem/play/ story, is on top of the list. May be you operate in another frequency sha.”

    Let both of you tell me where you got these on me and I prove you read not, but knot some points cheaply!

    Sublime frequency indeed!

    1. I don´t get it. If you are perfect what are you doing here then?
      Why do you keep attacking people when they comment on your post?
      I think you should go and learn how to write, because you still have a lot to learn.
      Or maybe you are writting these books for yourself.

  8. The Muse bless you more honourable Scribe sir!

    1. Honourable Scribe @ Myne!

  9. Great shot at it! I did it around 11 or there about.
    So you get at the frequency mentioned a priori.

    Thanks for the eagle-eyed corrections. I am smiling!
    A reward: Mohamed Ali, in order to enjoy the best
    out of his opponents would taunt, “why do you beat
    this face eh…”

    Why ‘am I here? A bird of passage seeking real reeds
    for its nest. A phoenix that needs re-incarnating fires
    (criticism) not quibbles.

    Fervently yours in ink!

  10. Despite the non-orthodox style of narrative, I actually enjoyed the story to begin with, and thought it was quite delightful. But as it went on, the charm began to wane, and I did not finish reading.

    Maybe you should have just made this a poem…

  11. @ Tola I will definitely work on that. Any suggestion, or would it be just a long ‘long’ poem?
    Homeric? Thank you so much.

  12. interesting

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