A Collection of Stories: Volume Ii
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About this ebook
Deborah Mboya
I knew I wanted to be a freelance writer ever since I was in the twelfth grade in high school because I fell in love with writing when I wrote my first short story in the fifth grade. What I didn’t know was how I was going to, when I was going to, and what I wanted to write about. Special thanks to AuthorHouse for being a part of one of the most fascinating experiences and opportunities of my life.
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A Collection of Stories - Deborah Mboya
AuthorHouse™ LLC
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Bloomington, IN 47403
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Phone: 1-800-839-8640
© 2014 Deborah Mboya. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.
Published by AuthorHouse 04/03/2014
ISBN: 978-1-4918-5280-4 (sc)
ISBN:978-1-4918-5279-8 (e)
Library of Congress Control Number: 2014900922
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
EARTHQUAKE - HAITI
THE BIG FIVE MEET THE PRINCE OF ETHIOPIA
AKUJ
C-BOY
THE OLD LION OF KENYA
THE LION AND THE HYENA
THE TALE OF THE TWO TURKANA BROTHERS
THE POKOT GIRL
MZIMA
SAVING THREE ELEPHANTS FROM STARVATION
THE BAMBOO HUT ON THE CONGO
AN ETHIOPIAN ADVENTURE
SHEIK ISSA AND THE DANAKIL NOMAD
THE ETHIOPIAN WOLVES IN THE BALE MOUNTAINS
THE SLAVE RAIDERS OF THE SUDAN
THE HUNTERS OF THE SERENGETI PLAIN
THE WORLD’S FASTEST CATS
AN ELEPHANT TALE IN UGANDA
LUTEMBA
AN UGANDAN FAIRY TALE
ABIGAIL
MOSQUITO
ARO-CHUKU
THE TALE OF THE DIVINER IN THE MARKETPLACE
ON THE SANDS OF THE SAHARA
Special thanks to Children International for the opportunity to be a sponsor with your organization from December 2005-June 2010 and help Abigail Tembo in Lusaka, Zambia.
EARTHQUAKE - HAITI
Joel 2:10 The earth shall quake before them; the heavens shall tremble: the sun and the moon shall be dark, and the stars shall withdraw their shining.
Haiti is an earthly paradise that is blessed by nature. It is the place where the beauty of creation is always alive. In her valleys and plains near the seacoast, rich soil, so beautiful and rich for planting and sowing and building towns and villages, brings forth crops and minerals of wonderful bounty - sugarcane, cotton, cocoa, coffee, tropical fruits, different kinds of food plants, cereals, legunes, wheat, rye, barley, timber forests, coal, iron, copper, gold, and silver have been found in quantities which promise to pay richly for working. Haiti is also extraordinarily mountainous. All the mountains are clothed with superb forests and magnificent trees, several lakes and streams, ferns, shrubs, and lovely flowers.
Dawn comes almost unnoticed in a Hatian day that has no real beginning and no real end.
The hour makes no difference, whether people come or they go. Every morning, between six and eight o’clock, hundreds of country women may be seen riding into town on horses, mules, or donkeys to buy and sell fish, turkeys, fowls, geese, ducks, sheep, goats, parrots, pigeons, maize, beans, chili peppers, avocadoes, pumpkins, okra, wood, and charcoal, or carry a cargo of fruit on their heads for miles up and down a trail from the country’s market back home. Men return from a drive in the country. The road home is alive with people on foot, in buses, and pickup trucks. Grandeur of Jesus,
God Before All,
Mother of Christ,
they yell at the vehicles. Through the night, children cry, play on the beach, and fishermen drag their homemade boats up onto the wet sand or down to the water. Every morning, an entrepreneur drops by somebody’s house, the milkman brings the cow to the door, one has a chicken to sell for a dollar, another a crab for forty cents, four lobsters sell for three dollars, and fruits and vegetables are priced at a few pennies.
The annual festival, Mardi Gras, is the country’s most colorful spectacle. The air is filled with the excitement of merchants competing with each other in the construction and display of ornamental floats and citizens in costumes to celebrate the country’s people, their creativity, art, culture, religion, and music. Another tradition of the people is oral literature. According to an old Haitian folktale, the people were fearful of magic spells and evil spirits, so they practiced their ancestral religion from West Africa called voodoo, a mixture of Christian and African beliefs. From dawn to sunset, dancing, singing, shouting, and laughter mingled with prayers to the spirits along the path that led thousands of Christians and believers to their center of devotion and worship, the sacred waterfalls of Saut d’Eau, or fall of water,
to pray to the spirits to save them from disaster, to hear the verses of the voodoo priests, to find a loved one, to throw away their bad luck for good luck, to take the miraculous water home, or to get help for a good harvest next year.
We love the flute.
We love the drum.
We love the church.
But we adore voodoo.
The pilgrims swarmed to the palm groves with food offerings of eggs, rice, beans, cooked chicken, corn, and cassava to please the spirits. When superstitions mingled among the church, their masters decided to put an end to what they believed was black magic
more than religion and ordered the townspeople to burn down every temple, cut down every sacred tree, and destroy every object that was worshipped by their slaves in Saut d’Eau. The voodoo spirits heard about their master’s plans and made the half an hour hike up to the top of the steep, stony waterfalls exhausting and unbearable under the sun. The Christians failed to consult with the voodoo spirits to seek their approval before engaging in their activity and got lost on their way to Saut d’Eau. Many stories have been told about their mysterious disappearance, but people come to the palm grove in July to see the visions of Haiti’s African slaves who never deserted their spirits in the sparkling waters of the sacred waterfalls.
There is a folktale about a man who came to live on the island of Haiti. One day, while out hunting, he witnessed the practices of their voodoo religion. When his presence was discovered, he was captured and carried away to the council of Papa-lois and Mama-lois, their king and queen, who had the power to decide what to do with him.
We were worshipping the God, Voodoo, when this stranger wandered upon our camp,
his captive said.
What action should be taken?
Papa-lois asked Mama-lois.
In Africa, it is customary to sacrifice a live white rooster during worship ceremonies,
Mama-lois answered.
Papa-lois called the sacrifice of a live white rooster to a halt. Mama-lois took out a handful of coins and scattered them in front of the negro slaves to draw their attention away from the stranger, who watched them for a good opportunity to escape, then he ran for his very life. He did not stop running until he was back home. There is a Haitian proverb, A stumble is not a fall.
Every twenty miles of Haiti has a story of buried treasure, and every island in the Carribean has a story to tell about the pirates of the West Indies. Centuries ago, before nature took toll of all the islands and lands along the Carribean, there was a small, enchanted island located off the northern coast of Haiti that contained more buried treasure than any other spot in the Carribean. Since the dawn of American history, the pirates combed the sands of the magical islands in their private vessels searching for gold, they brought slaves from Africa to cultivate the plantations, and bought and sold sugarcane, cotton, cocoa, coffee, tropical fruits, wheat, rye, and barley.
Everybody joined them on board their vessels to engage in their piracy - powerless natives, great navigators, early geographers, English seamen, French corsairs, Dutch zeerovers, slaves, traders, pirate admirals, vice-admirals, and captains. The mighty King of Spain could not, with all his ships and men, put an end to their pirating along the islands harbors and ports. Their plan was to carry off their booty - gold and jewels - to some lonely island and divide the loot to be spent in one of the cities in the West Indies. Unfortunately, their pirating was put to an end when an earthquake tumbled parts of the island with scores of the pirates into the Carribean waters.
Neither the land nor Port-au-Prince, the capital of