MODUPE (A Complete Short Story)

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  • #1085246 Reply
    Ifeoma Isabella okeke
    • "Posts"502
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    Once there was a village in Nigeria, West Africa where the people farmed in a lush valley. The villagers lived in homes made of dried mud, which the woman decorated.

    Surrounding the village were fields with crops and beyond was a deep river the villagers called (Baba) which means Father. The river provided for the people. The men used it for fishing and irriagting crops, the woman washed clothes on its banks and the children played in its waters.

    In the rainy season, however, it overflowed and the people were afraid of its power. They had to built a dam which held back the water where the river would held back beyond the fields.

    There was an elderly man in the village named Modupe, which means “I am Grateful”. Modupe was a quiet, man, a widower, whose grown children lived in other villages. He moved to the brow of the mountain overlooking the entire valley and he lived alone.

    He built a hut and cleaned off the land to grow vegetables. The people in the valley loved and respected him.

    One year at harvest there were unusually heavy rains, but the crops had done well and no one (expect Modupe) paid attention to the river.

    One day Modupe looked at the river and saw that it had become swollen straining the dam and there was no time to run down and warn the people of the flood. Yes it would be too late and all would be lost.

    Modupe thought of his friends, their crops, homes and every lives were in danger, if he did not find a way to warn them. Then an idea came, he rushed to his hut and set in on fire. When the people saw his home burning they said, “Our friend is in trouble, we must sound the alarm and go to him”. Then according to custom “All” men, women, and children went up the mountain to see what they could do.

    When they arrived, a loud crashing noise behind them made them look down into the valley. Their homes, temple, and crops were distroyed by the river.

    At first the people started to cry over their loss, but Modupe comforted them. “Don’t worry” he said “My crops are here, we can share them while we build a new village”.

    Then everyone began to sing, dance and give thanks, because they remembered in coming to help a friend, they had also saved themselves.

    To Love others is the greatest gift of all.

    Always be grateful….

    (c) Omaisabella

    #1085265 Reply
    • "Posts"18941
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    Thank you for this great piece

    #1085266 Reply
    • "Posts"254
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    Nice bt short story

    #1085277 Reply
    Ugochi Sunday
    • "Posts"1669
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    Thumbs up. it ain’t easy

    #1085288 Reply
    Chinonso Nnamuka
    • "Posts"236
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    Why care about the shortness instead of the lesson @Oluracheal

    #1085291 Reply
    • "Posts"761
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    #1085295 Reply
    rhyne bryne
    • "Posts"2552
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    Nice one

    #1085312 Reply
    • "Posts"3550
    • ☆☆☆

    Nice piece

Viewing 8 posts - 1 through 8 (of 32 total)
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